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undeadcannibal · 1 year

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Summary: While escaping with a cult vehicle, you forget to turn off the radio and are captured and turned over to Jacob. Only this time, you wake up somewhere you don’t recognize, tied down to a chair and left to the mercy of Jacob Seed -- and his hunting knife.

Pairing: Jacob Seed/Reader

Genre: Smut, one-shot

Word count: 1,891

Warnings: mentions of brainwashing/conditioning, slight(?) dub-con territory, knife play, ‘nsft’ content, AFAB reader, no use of y/n, spoiler free, not beta read

A/N: Look at me, finally touching up and finishing a draft from 5 years ago. After finishing Far Cry 6, I had the urge to replay Far Cry 5 and recalled this old draft I had. Figured why not rewrite it and post it, y’know? Hopefully y’all will enjoy this little piece. ( Gif credit: xxx )

It was too late when the realization of the mistake you'd made sunk in.

After managing to sneak off with one of the Cults' trucks, you'd forgotten to turn off the radio. Before you could switch it off, you could hear the familiar song begin to play throughout the speakers. Within little time, you could feel the brainwashing effects being to take over you...

Shortly after the first lyrics rang out, your head began to ache; vision blurring red at the edges whilst confusion was soon overcome by a surge of pure, animalistic rage. Jacob had - unfortunately - done well with conditioning you. Once the effects began to kick in, there was nothing you could do to stop it. You could only hope that no one knew where you were so he didn't send any of his hunters after you. It'd been some time since you'd received his last message for you on the radio. Maybe he'd been so pleased with your last round of 'culling' he felt he didn't need another round of it so soon. You really doubted that though.

Beginning to lose control of your muscles, your body began to twitch and jerk before going slack entirely. Your vision starting to fade as well. Grunting, you watched as your vehicle began to veer off from the street into the woods. Barrelling through bushes and small trees. You couldn't see much after that, your head falling back to slump against the headrest of the driver seat.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of the truck's tires rolling over rough terrain, then the impact of steel colliding with wood and glass shattering.

------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------

When you finally came to, you couldn't recognize your current surroundings. However, you were able to determine it wasn't any of the locations Jacob had taken you to before.

Instead of filthy cages with humans - and sometimes animals and corpses - inside of them in the sweltering sun, you were in a dark room with dim lighting. And, as you began to struggle, you also came to discover that your limbs had been tied with a rough rope-like material at your wrists, thighs, and ankles.

Quickly glancing around the room, your eyes eventually adjusted to the dark and you managed to notice a small table nestled off in the corner. A leather-bound book with the cults' insignia stamped on it in the middle laid atop it as well as that damn small wooden box Jacob used. The same one that played the same song that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place...

You had to find a way to get out of here immediately.

Attempting to jerk and struggle in your binds, you briefly wondered if you would be able to wriggle your way out of them if you tried hard enough.

"Funny thing about the vehicles..."

Stopping all movement entirely, your blood ran cold and you could feel the hair on the back of your neck and arms raise with fright.

You didn't need to see who it was to recognize the owner of that voice.

Jacob Seed was a bastard that was difficult to forget.

The sound of heavy footfall nearing you made sweat begin to bead at your temples. You really weren't eager to discover what he had in store for you tonight.

As your breathing picked up and your pulse quickened, you finally saw him step into the light. Standing in front of you with a strict posture, his expression unreadable as ever.

"When we first got them, John suggested equipping them with tracking devices," Jacob explained as casually as if he'd been discussing the weather. "I told him there was no point at first, but eventually he talked me into the idea, so we decided to add 'em anyway."

Your jaw tensed and relaxed periodically whilst he spoke to you.

"Guess they proved to be pretty handy after all, huh?"

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. Jerking your arms once more in retaliation.

"Fuck you, Jacob."

"Oh," He tutted at you, clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. "Don't worry, we'll get to that part soon enough. But first--" He reached down to a strap attached to his thigh, producing a large Bowie knife with a black handle.

You watched him laugh at you as your eyes frantically flit back and forth from his face to the knife he was wielding.

Jacob stepped forward and slowly began to walk around you. Stopping just behind you before you felt the nipping edge of sharp steel press against your clavicle through the flimsy blouse you'd chosen to help yourself blend in. Swallowing the lump in your throat, did your best to remain still. Even as Jacob began to move the tip of his blade up to your throat. Scraping it across the delicate flesh there before moving to repeat the same motion across your throat and the underside of your jaw and chin.

Unable to help yourself, you found yourself breathing faster. Almost panting even whilst your thighs pressed together. Unsure if your reactions were fear or arousal based at that point.

Your knife play kink really picked the worst time to flare up, didn't it?

Jacob Seed could kill you with a flick of his wrist. Have your throat sliced and you'd be able to do nothing but cough and gurgle as you'd slowly asphyxiate with your own blood...

Yet, you never felt the horrible sting of the blade piercing your throat.

Instead, you felt Jacob pull his blade away. Watching curiously as he knelt before you and began to slice through numerous parts of your pants until was satisfied. Peeling away the filthy denim till he had you in nothing but your underwear for bottoms.

"W-What the fuck do you think you're doing, you fucking pervert?!" Baring and gritting your teeth at him, you lunged forward only to be stopped short by your bindings. Unable to do anything as he smiled up at you.

"Don't act like you weren't just squirming when I had my knife against your throat, Deputy. Besides," He smirked, glancing down at your lower body for a brief moment. "I'm trained to recognize the small reactions you might not know you even do. Don't worry though, pup. Secret's safe with me."

Not bothering to wait for your reaction, Jacob slid his knife beneath the waistband of your underwear. Slicing through it before repeating the same on the opposite side. Afterward, he grabbed the remaining shreds of your panties, bringing them up to examine the cloth without an ounce of shame.

As you groaned and turned your flushing face away, you could hear him make comments that had you biting your tongue.

"Can't deny it, girl. The crotch of these are soaked."

Jesus fucking Christ.

Maybe you'd have been better off if he'd just slit your throat...

Surely anything was better than this humiliating and arousing situation.

Slicing away the cords restraining your thighs, Jacob freed them only for him to stand up then.

With your legs apart, you forced yourself to stare up at the ceiling as he leered over your naked form. Bright, cold eyes unable to look away from your flushed and glistening slit.

"Look away all you want, there's no denying you're clearly gettin' off on this just as much as I am..." Jacob taunted as he knelt before you again. Though, this time, he didn't move in with the hand that was wielding his weapon. Instead, he reached down and spread you open with a calloused thumb, causing you to gasp and your muscles to go taut. Unwilling to cave and give him any sort of further reaction.

Still, that didn't stop him from making things worse with his words. Verbally taunting you as his thumb seized spreading you to instead drift up. Circling your puffy clit till it was wet with your own juices before he moved away. Stroking the thick pad of this thumb all the way down to your hole then gliding it back up to your clit again. Repeating the motion over and over till your back was slightly arching off the chair you were tied to. Your hips weakly jutting forward in a poor attempt to chase the pleasure his thumb was providing. Yet, Jacob seemed to be as cruel as ever. Pulling his hand away right before you could grind yourself against it.

God, you were going to need so much therapy after all of this...

Huffing through your nose, you watched with wet, fearful eyes as he removed his bare hand and returned with the hand wielding the knife. Holding it by the blade-end skillfully as he brought it between your quivering thighs and held it inches away from your cunt.

Quickly shaking your head, you pleaded, "Please, for the love of God, Jacob... I'll let you kill me, just any other way than t-that."

The tears that'd welled up in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks as you tried not to sob and hyperventilate.

Jacob didn't move as he glanced up at you with a cold, halting expression.

"Stop your whining, pup. I'm not going to hurt you. At least, not in the way you're thinking..."

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Shaking in the chair, you could only watch as Jacob finally moved. Pushing the handle of the knife against your mound and moving it up and down your slit. Every so often, he would pause at your opening just so he could push the slightest amount of the end of the handle inside of you. Fucking you once, twice, three times with the first few inches of the handle before pulling out. Smearing your arousal all over your slit and clitoris till your thighs shook and your mouth finally parted. A soft cry left you as he continued to work you over with the end of the knife.

"J-Jacob..." You panted, glancing at his face and back to the blade between your legs.

"Shh... it's okay. I know whatcha need, Dep'."

Now, Jacob was only grinding the edge of the blade against your wet slit before he finally brought his other hand over. Using his thumb again, Jacob circled and worked your hypersensitive clit until you were openly whining and moaning. Your body finally gave in and writhed for him within its bindings as you pleaded for more with red, flushed eyes.

By all means, you shouldn't have been this close to cumming because of Jacob Seed, of all people in Hope County.

Yet, you couldn't hold your orgasm off any longer.

With a disappointed and wanton cry, your hips began to rock back and forth as you desperately fucked yourself against Jacob's hand and knife. Thick, muscular thighs quivering as waves of pleasure began to overtake you. Thankfully, he didn't stop moving and was at least kind enough to help you ride it out. Continuing to stroke and grind against your moving mound till you begged him to stop. Transparent and slick cum covering not only his hand and knife but your thighs and the chair as well.

"Good girl~" Jacob cooed whilst wiping his knife clean on the front of his pants.

"Was it that hard to just give in?"

Yes.

Yes, it absolutely fucking was, you thought to yourself.

#jacob seed #far cry 5 #far cry #jacob seed x reader #reader #fanfiction #one-shot #'nsft'#cw: knife play #my writing

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ghostoffuturespast · 2 months

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22 March 2024 - Friday Field Notes

Rabbitbrush (top), Spring Mountain Parsley (bottom left), Fringed Sage (bottom right)

The Spring Equinox was earlier this week and while the calendars might say it's spring, some days it doesn't necessarily feel like it. The prairie is beautiful, but it's a harsh place to live sometimes. There is limited water and the climate alternates frequently between extremes. So even though the calendars say spring, the prairie is slow to wake up. The patient sort, the prairie knows to wait.

Most people might think it's too early to start even thinking about gardening, but that depends on the types of plants you're planting. Many domesticated garden varieties of plants and agricultural crops have been selectively breed to reduce seed dormancy for human benefit. The seeds from domesticated plants germinate more readily and more consistently than their wild cousins. Which makes them easier to grow, harvest, and eat, but because of that they require a lot more babying and care. Wild plants are much tougher.

Seeds are living organisms, the offspring of plants, and they contain everything a seedling needs so it can germinate and grow. Wild seeds are incredibly patient, they will wait months, sometimes years, before they will even consider growing. Some have armor so thick that it has to be chipped away at by rocks and ice, freeze and thaw cycles, before water and air can even get to the seed. Others contain acids and hormones that have to be used up between specific temperature ranges before they'll even think about sprouting. While others, not fully developed, are knocked off the fronds and petals of their parents, children that brave the elements and just prefer to wait and see. Wild seeds do not rely on a calendar, because they know and can feel when it is truly spring. When it is safe for them to finally venture out into the world and grow.

I have no idea if this Rocky Mountain Bee Plant that I planted will grow this season. It's suggested to do fall plantings so it'll overwinter. It has a very thick and tough seed coat. I'm hoping the abrading I did and the snow might help it along a little. If not, it'll be a surprise for next year.

A couple of Pronghorn lads enjoying the trail.

CW: dead animal, road kill below cut

This Beaver was hit by a car trying to cross the road. Underneath the road there is a storm drain that connects a retention pond and feeds into the creek at the site that I work at. The storm drain is grated off, to help improve the flow of water and to make sure detritus doesn't get stuck in the channel, which increases the chances of flooding. Because this Beaver was trying to follow the water and because the drain was grated off, they had no choice but to cross the heavily trafficked road. It's unfortunate that urban infrastructure often does not consider the needs of all living things. Grating off that storm drain means no wildlife can use it as safe passage.

I salvaged the tail from this Beaver for educational purposes for work, the rest them was too far gone to keep, so my coworker and I moved them off the road and onto the shoulder a safe distance away from any cars.

Most likely this Beaver will first become food for scavengers, Coyotes and Corvids, before it starts to decompose. Insects will lay their eggs on its rotting flesh so their larvae will have something to eat, perhaps the fur will become a part of someones nest, and then the bones will bleach. Crumble to dust and return to the soil to feed the billions of microorganisms beneath. It will help the plants grow. Maybe some day, it might even help another Beaver live.

It's sad this Beaver died, but in nature nothing is wasted and nothing is forgotten. Life and death are so inextricably linked and one does not exist without the other.

And heck, maybe that Beaver tail I kept might inspire a future engineer. Help them build a better and more compassionate storm drain.

#nature #friday field notes #little ghost on the prairie #plants #seed dormancy #spring season #short grass prairie #rabbit brush #spring mountain parsley #fringed sage #pronghorn #beaver #cw: dead animal

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