#fc5 reader insert

[swampbrick]

chapter one of in place of hymns should be up this week I am positively vibrating with excitement

the chapter is?? roughly 95% complete, including editing! very very hype about this 🥳

[seedling-spark]

Okay, so I just had a new idea for a FC5 fic:

FC5 oc/reader x John fic

OC/reader is in Hope county looking for their mom, turns out she joined a cult! Follows OC trying to get mom out, realising she's gonna have to be sneaky about it, and then going into the cult to see if she can get her out that way.

Romance with John (relationship develops while she thinks she's manipulating him, but he is fully aware of what she is doing and having a fun time trying to woo her)

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Where the Moonlight Shines (Part Four)

Summary:  You’re a junior deputy in Hope County, Montana when things go to hell in a handbasket with the local cult. It’s months before help arrives in the form of the Avengers, taking you down a road you never expected.

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of the battle, you learn what comes next for you and your friends and what happened to Faith. 

Features: Mentions of canon typical violence, torture, and brainwashing

Pairing: Platonic!Natasha/Reader; Platonic!Wanda/Reader; eventual Platonic!Bucky/Reader

Series Warnings: Canon typical violence; depictions/mentions of torture; depictions/mentions of brainwashing; will add more as they become relevant

Notes: As always, listen to the warnings. I have two outtakes planned at the moment, including one that is an offshoot from this chapter

This is a crossover between Far Cry 5 and the MCU

Word Count: 2256

The sky was streaked with pink and orange as the sun began to rise above the horizon. You sat in a rocking chair on the front porch of the Rye home, baby Carmina sleeping in your arms. Kim was getting some much needed rest and Nick was still helping with the emergency response in the form of getting people set up in the abandoned houses that now dotted the county, starting in Holland Valley. Your rag-tag team was helping in any way they could. Mary May and Jerome were putting together a list of names of people who were unaccounted for. Grace had taken Boomer with her when she went to help see if there were any holdouts from the cult hiding out in bunkers. 

You, Staci, and Joey were the only ones who were being forced to sit on the sidelines. You did your best to soothe him. You wished your powers could heal the mind, if only to help him. He had been your first love, when you were younger and held so much optimism. You heard Natasha before she sat down beside you, a cup of coffee in hand. Wanda had arrived with Bucky not long after Natasha had brought you back to the Rye’s. You had had a difficult night sleeping, plagued by nightmares and the fear that victory was only a dream. 

“How do you feel about New York?” Natasha asked, before taking a sip of her cup of coffee. You glanced at her.

“I’ve been a few times,” you said.

“How would you feel about living there, at least temporarily?” she asked. You frowned. You took one of Carmina’s tiny hands in yours, smiling as the sleeping infant grasped one of your fingers. You needed the distraction. You had a feeling you knew where Natasha was going with her line of questioning.

“This is my home,” you told her. The other woman let out a sigh, remaining silent for a moment as she thought about her next words. 

“You’re enhanced. The therapy you’re going to be going through...it's intense,” she told you. You looked at her, your expression neutral.

“You think I’ll hurt someone,” you said. 

“We can’t rule out the possibility. If you were a normal civilian, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Most of those affected by Jacob’s brainwashing will be treated here in Montana. You’re the only one we know of who is enhanced,” she said. 

“This is my home. They need me,” you said, before standing up to head inside as Carmina began to fuss. 

As you moved about your day, you found yourself lost in thought. Joey and Staci were heading to Missoula in the afternoon. It was amazing how quickly Stark’s money could get something set up. You supposed the Avengers had a plan for these kinds of things after Sokovia. You remembered hearing about the response team on the news, in what felt like a lifetime ago. You didn’t want to leave your home. You knew Staci would be taken care of, but you worried. You worried about Hudson, about Staci, about everyone. No part of the county had been untouched by the madness. 

You had moved to Hope County to stay off the Avengers radar, only to end up on it anyway. Avengers had been in and out of the Rye home, which had become a base of operations for them and for the Resistance. You had spent part of your day writing down locations where you knew bodies were buried, because you had buried them. Your Aunt Rae-Rae. Your cousin Ryan. Eli. A list of the dead on your side, the ones you knew of. You wrote down what had happened to the group that had come through looking for a man’s sister. 

Staci stood, a shell of himself, with Joey’s arm around him. They were by the car the would be taking them to Missoula.

“Stay safe Rook. Stay in touch,” Joey said. You nodded.

“You have my number. My e-mail. I’ll get you my address too,” you said softly. 

“I’m going to go check in with Captain Rogers. Agent Barton is driving us up with that Spiderkid,” she said. You nodded, pulling her into a hug. You knew what she was doing. You watched as she walked toward where the Captain stood before you turned your attention to Staci. He had wrapped his arms around himself. 

“It’s going to be okay, Pratt. I promise,” you whispered as you pulled him into a hug.

“You don’t know that,” he said.

“It’s over. We won. We’re safe. Jacob can’t hurt us anymore. These people are here to help us. The world’s top specialists are here to help us, Staci. The Seeds will never hurt us again, I promise you,” you said. You felt his shoulders shake as he let out a sob that rocked his too thin frame. You held him tight, a few tears of your own falling. You were trying to stay strong. For Staci. For Joey. For everyone around you. You were their leader. 

Goodbyes were hard. Part of you was afraid you wouldn’t see either of your friends again. Security had been hard to come by in the months since the Seeds had taken over. Security in food. Security in knowing things would be okay. As the car disappeared from view, you went for a walk on the property. You had a tree you liked to sit under. It had enough cover around it that you wouldn’t be seen by any Peggie patrols in the area, something that you didn’t have to worry about anymore. 

You found yourself thinking of Burke. The damned fool who had set into motion the series of events that led to this all. Part of you wondered if Cameron Burke had never set foot in Hope County things wouldn’t have gone south the way they had. You knew in your heart that it would have happened, with or without him. The cult had become more brazen in the days leading up to the attempted arrest. Three bodies had turned up in the span of a week and getting a warrant for the Seed properties had been a struggle with how many connections John Seed had made in the county. They had been taunting the Sheriff’s Department. 

You stood up sometime later, brushing the dirt from your pants. You needed to walk. You needed a distraction from the thoughts that raced around in your head. You knew someone had been watching you from a distance. Someone was always watching you. You understood why. But that didn’t mean you liked it. 

While you needed to escape your thoughts, you needed to talk too. You needed someone to reassure you. Someone to tell you that you’d be okay, that no matter what happened next, you’d be able to return home in the end. You spotted Wanda Maximoff not far from you, keeping a polite distance while keeping you in her line of vision. 

“Wanda?” you called. She looked at you, and you took a breath before continuing as she moved toward you. You felt at ease with her. From the moment you’d met before everything came to a head, you’d felt safe with her. 

“Wanda...will I be...will I be allowed to leave? After I’m fixed...if I’m ever fixed?” you asked. She looked surprised at your question. You hadn’t brought up the topic of your conversation with Natasha with anyone. You knew when you’d be leaving, but that was the extent. 

“You aren’t a prisoner,” she said. You looked at her with a look she couldn’t decipher. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, like a puzzle that was difficult to put together. 

“I sure feel like one with a babysitter every time I want to take a moment to myself,” you said. She sighed. 

“It’s for your safety and that of others. We’ve tracked down each person who...who completed the trials and survived the fight. They’ve been secured. We’re going to get them help, get you help. We have experience with this,” she said.

“Why aren’t they coming too? Why am I the only one going to New York?” you asked. 

“I thought you and Natasha talked about this,” she said, confusion evident in her expression. You nodded.

“We did. I understand why I’m going to New York. I don’t understand why I’m the only one,” you said. 

“You’ve got powers. You pose far more danger to civilian doctors than the others. It won’t be just civilian doctors, but it’s safer for you to be treated under the supervision of the Avengers. We have the facilities to handle anything that happens during your recovery. These people, their lives are here. Families are here. Some are from out of state, yes, but it will be easier in the long term to have them in one location to monitor progress. You’re an exception,” she said. You sighed. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew people far more qualified than you were making the decisions. You had another pressing question, one you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to. 

“I have another question. Did Faith survive?” you asked. She looked surprised at the question.

“I’m sorry,” she said. You nodded. Rachel Jessop had been one of your best friends in the county before she got caught up with the cult. You wanted to cry, but your tears had long since dried. You had all been pawns in Joseph’s twisted game. 

“We were friends...when we were kids I mean. Before all this. I tried to convince her to leave once, in person. Jacob had brought me with him to a meeting. I had only just finished the trials. I was told to help Faith with something and I tried to talk her into leaving, into taking me with her. She slapped me and told me I should stop thinking like that, and that eventually I’d see that Joseph was right. She didn’t tell Jacob. A small act of mercy. I’d tried it when she had me in Bliss a couple times, but she was always able to redirect me then,” you said. 

“You would have been punished?” she asked. You let out a small laugh. It held not emotion, only the resignation that came with the reality you had faced. 

“I’d be lucky if I survived. You don’t...you didn’t leave the Project alive. The times I was back with the Resistance...it was because Jacob allowed it. It was a cat and mouse game. He’d catch me, chip away more at conditioning me, and let me go back until he called me back again,” you said. 

The two of you continued to walk in silence after that. You felt more at ease around her. You knew of her powers, she had been upfront about it when she introduced herself to you. You wondered how she was coping with this all. It couldn’t have been easy for her to be around all of the suffering, around the pain caused by the Seed family. But you didn’t feel like it was your place to ask her about it. As the sun started sinking below the horizon, you felt at peace for the first time since everything started. 

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

The journey to the Avengers compound the next morning  was quiet. You had been in contact with family, letting them know you were alive. You weren’t okay. You were far from it. You found yourself humming as you went through messages and emails on your phone. It was a new one Stark had given you. You pulled up a news article about what had happened in Hope County. 

‘What Happened in Hope County? More Questions than Answers as Press Conference Planned’ 

‘Who Were the Resistance? A Look at Hope County’s Heroes’ 

‘Terror in Montana: Religious Terrorism in the US’ 

‘Who is Rook?’

‘Stark Declines Comment on Hope County’

‘Feds REFUSED to Help Hope County’

‘President Set to Hold Conference Call with Survivors Amid Controversy Over Decision to Postpone Visit to the Region’ 

“You shouldn’t read that,” Natasha said from beside you as she glanced at your screen. Someone had spoken about you to the media. Said you were Jacob’s trained attack dog, a cold-blooded killer, that you should be locked up instead of with the Avengers. Your shoulders slumped. 

“They aren’t wrong. The things I did,” you said.

“It wasn’t you. The only people to blame are the Seeds,” she said. You shook your head.

“I could have fought harder. I could have done more,” you said.

“Even the strongest can fall victim to people like that. What matters is they’re gone. We’re going to help you. I can’t promise you’ll go back to how things were, but I can promise you that you’ll have support,” she said. Natasha glanced at Bucky as she spoke. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for him once they’d learned what Jacob had been doing. You knew enough about his background to know that he’d been brainwashed and controlled by Hydra. 

When the jet landed, you were escorted to medical. There, you met Dr. Cho, along with Princess Shuri of Wakanda. Shuri, you were told, was responsible for the recovery of Sergeant Barnes. It appeared she was the only person the Avengers trusted to help you recover, given the circumstances. 

“It won’t be easy, but you will recover, I promise you,” Shuri said to you. You nodded. There was only one path you could take, and it was forward.

[englass]

Concept/Title: Viewfinder

Pairing(s): Joseph Seed x Reader? / Undecided

Word Count: 3,187

Warning(s): Supernatural elements, horror elements, mentioned gore, death/ghosts, bad language/swearing.

A/N(s): Labelling this a concept piece because it’s not that refined imo; I got violently struck by the need to write it after randomly thinking of the idea at work. Doubt I’ll expand on it, but still interesting to write. And yes, I’m fully aware I’ve missed Halloween but– shh, who am I to question when inspiration strikes?

-/-/-

“Holy shit…”

It wasn’t anything new. Really, you shouldn’t be surprised; not with all you’ve heard about them. Not with the things you’ve seen…

But it’s the volume that catches your breath, makes shaky words tumble loose in a wispy exhale despite your aim for covertness.

You shouldn’t be here. Perched precariously across a high branch, you never should have come here. You can’t even remember why you’d decided on such recklessness in the first place, far removed from your typical cautious nature.

It was likely curiosity, the damned thing. What with this local war, once a whispered rumour with the tension brewing in the county, now in full swing.

You were unaligned, vehemently against the needless bloodshed on both sides. Had seen too much death in the calm of a spring evening to ever want to see it in the wrath of an actual war.

Without your camera, an old heirloom passed down to those with your ‘talents’ in the family, you could only catch glimpses. The unnatural glint of luna’s light in the corner of your eye, reflecting off the impression of a form that isn’t there in your periphery.

With the camera however… Well, fact is oftentimes stranger than fiction and seeing the evidence of some of the ways people have died is…

It was terrifying as a child; it’s still terrifying as a young adult.

God, you’ve always wanted to throw this fucking camera away. Put your foot to it so you would never have to see the horrors that lurk behind its lens again. Save any future members of your bloodline from the trauma it will surely lash upon them.

But you can’t.

It’s like a compulsion; morbid curiosity in full unrelenting force. You can’t bring yourself to destroy it. The not knowing, the paranoia should you ever lose – even just misplace it keeps it close.

Hardly a comfort, but always better the devil you know.

And you would always rather know than not when they are looking at you.

But this… this is unprecedented.

They’re not looking at you – fuck, thank god – but they are looking at him; at them.

Fucking hell, there’s so many…

It’s sickening. Seeing one is bad enough, having one follow you is worse, but this… this man has a whole fucking army of ghosts around him. All surrounding him, all circled close along with the living but still maintaining a certain respectable distance from him.

Are they all his followers, devoted in death as they were in life? Or have some inadvertently latched on to him, tethered themselves to him from the fear or rage he caused them in their final moments? It’s hard to tell. The toils and muck of conflict stains them all, makes them indistinguishable from one another.

You suppose death never has been a biassed prick.

The sight is beyond unsettling all the same, though.

Can he feel them? You know you can, if they get close to you. Still not figured out if they can hurt you though; never given them the chance, never been brave enough to try. Only ever turned tail or shot them with your camera in a reactive bid to startle them away. Sometimes they come back, other times they don’t. Sometimes they appear to want to show you something, other times… other times you don’t know.

You don’t exactly care to look at them long enough to find out.

Thankfully, depending on who you were to ask, he doesn’t seem to notice them. None of them do. Not even the girl, their appointed sister, despite how much exposure to that fucked up Bliss stuff she’s apparently had.

You’ve heard it causes hallucinations, makes people see things; you sometimes wonder at how much of what they see is really there or not.

They all have ghosts, you notice though. More so the preacher, Joseph if you remember rightly. But the other two men – his brothers, have a few of their own too. Barely a handful each, but…

You shiver, breath a whispered gasp as you see the way they stare. There’s no emotion in a ghost's face, completely blank and expressionless save for whatever injuries or lacerations may scar them. Even their eyes are blank, void of any thought or feeling, never no different than the eyes of a dead fish; but the intensity… that is something else. That is something felt.

And if they could… well, you’re sure they’d be glaring something fierce.

Did they kill them? It’s an awful thought, but with what you’ve heard it wouldn’t be far beyond the realm of possibility. The Seeds have always had blood on their hands, as goes the local gossip. And with how fixated the two and one ghosts are on the other two brothers respectively…

There’s history there, at the least. Enough history that you don’t think they’d ever leave.

Grudge worthy history.

God, how do they sleep at night from such a look? From such a silent and inexpressible rage? It’s beyond you.

… You really should leave.

This is dangerous. The full weight of the situation you’ve found yourself in starting to drag you down. Chewing at your already fraying nerves. It’s not even like you could take a picture to hand over to the resistance as a peace offering of sorts, in exchange for your continued uninvolvement. The flash would go off; the outcome would be your worst case scenario.

Slowly, so slowly you start to move. The ramblings of the zealous preacher falling further into the background as you attempt to manoeuvre from your, admittedly awkward position across the branch.

You don’t think too much of the chill from the night air. A glance towards Joseph and his entourage is enough proof that the ghosts haven’t moved from their docile positions, dead eyes still fixed on the preacher. You breathe a sigh of relief and continue to carefully raise yourself into a sitting position, making sure to keep as much of yourself as close together and hidden as possible under the leaves and cover of night.

It wouldn’t do for anyone to see you swinging about like some damsel in distress because you lost your balance.

In a cruel moment of irony, you stretch your leg back to start shimmying to the trunk of the tree, fully intending to make your way down and skedaddle away, when your foot suddenly slips from its hook on the branch too quickly. Body tipping dangerously to one side, frantically wrapping your arms around it, camera scuffing against the sturdy wood as you pin it harshly between your chest and the branch.

Thankfully, the flash doesn’t go off.

Taking a gasping breath, your eyes skittishly dart from person to person, hoping beyond all else that no one heard your – almost – fall. When no one seems to bat an eye you sigh, slumping with the weight of it to further cage your camera against you; forehead colliding a little harsher than intended into the bark.

That was too close.

With another quieter sigh you start to rise again, adamant to get away as quickly and stealthily as possible; not wanting to test your luck any further tonight.

But then you see it.

A glimmer, an unnatural glint of silver in your periphery.

You freeze.

Breath catching in your chest, fear an icy tendril sliding down your back you stare wide eyed at nothing; eyes becoming unfocused in a vain attempt to better see what is typically hidden. To attempt to follow the things you normally can’t.

It’s a silly attempt. Worthless really, but still you make it. No different to chasing those squiggly things in your eyes.

Cautiously you slide your camera out from under you. Turning to look over the edge to the ground below, vision spinning at the sudden acknowledgment of just how high up you are. You close your eyes hard for a few seconds, take a deep breath, and raise your camera…

It’s there. Almost right underneath you.

Dead eyes staring up at you, empty and expressionless.

You don’t move. Snared in the trap that these weird moments of looking at something that shouldn’t be, that isn’t there for most people, lock you into. Almost like an invincible ledge that you don’t know the limits of, nor the depth of the fall that awaits you should you get too close.

They are a follower of Joseph’s, though. You can easily make out the mark of the cult on their shredded jumper. Can see the inked branding of a sin on the inside of their arm. You think there might be hints of another one on their face, but… if there was one it’s gone now. Missing with the entirety of their right cheek; muscle and tendon and teeth exposed, part of their tongue…

They don’t gurgle though. Or choke. Or do anything really to show off their grisly wound. Not like the way they do in the movies or on television shows. There’s no fanfare here. They’re already dead, they have no need to sputter and uselessly swallow. They’re just an apparition. A scary one, a harmless one, but an apparition all the same.

Or at least, you try to tell yourself that.

With the sting of salt in your eyes you watch in distress as the ghost raises its arm, loosely outstretched toward you. Burnt and blood coated fingers pried apart into a lethargic open grab, a claw ready to steal you from your haven.

Oh, you’re so fucked…

It’s blocking your only way down. The only good thing is that ghosts can’t climb, but one of many pieces of bad news is that it's standing guard, waiting for you to eventually leave the safety of the tree. Sadly you don’t have the luxury of staying in one place forever, unlike the dead do.

The only thing you can think to do is to jump, but that’d be stupid– even for you. If you fall wrong you're done for. Staying up here might not be ideal, but at least you're not down there with it; incapacitated to boot if you were to be foolish enough to take the risk and end up hurting yourself.

… But you need to leave.

You’re becoming too lost in your fear, can feel your finger hovering over the shutter button, the urge to press down and drive the thing away growing the higher your panic rises. The need to flee itches at you, makes you twitch the longer it stares blankly up at you through the camera. Arm raised and painfully still.

What the fuck does it want?!

Before you catch yourself your mouth is already opening, a hushed ‘go away’ on the tip of your tongue–

And then there’s a shout, a raucous rally and the sporadic spritz of gunfire.

You jump, muscles flinching violently as you move to look too quickly, arm slipping out from under you–

Hands reflectively grabbing your camera tightly to hold onto and protect–

The impression of a button under your finger–

The flash goes off.

“Ahh–!”

You’re blinded, vision seared white as you're shot near point blank, flail in your shock and feel yourself slip from the branch, scrambling too late to save yourself before the blurry world is tumbling by too quickly–

A crack of pain has you scream out.

The ground a harsh greeting as you warble a pained cry, breath a wheezing cough as you weakly roll from your back to your side.

Fuck, you think you caught your shoulder…

The world is still a blurry mess of afterimages and lights, tears threatening to fall at the pain ricocheting through you, but you don’t have a chance to try and work yourself through it all before you're being mercilessly yanked to your feet. Rough hands grabbing and clawing as you are thrown into the roaring crowd.

“G-get the fuck off me! Let me go!�� Your demands are far weaker and shakier than you want them to be as you're dragged along, shoved into one person only to collide and be pulled by another, the jeering exclamations and threats of the cult loud and ringing in your ears before you’re aggressively tossed to the ground.

You barely stop your face from hitting the ground, knees and forearms taking the brunt of the assault as your head instead knocks into your shielding arms before resting there as you curl into yourself. Make yourself as small and un-intimidating as possible in the eyes of the dead and living both.

Although, you’re far more concerned about the latter…

Choking at the harsh dig of your hoodie into your jugular, you're yanked by your hood back and onto your knees. Fingers clawing at the pressure around your throat as you're made to look up into the piercing eyes of the cult’s leader: the elusive Joseph Seed.

Freezing, you barely pay any mind to how he lightly raises his hand, a hush falling over everyone at the placating gesture as the choking grip on your hood is slackened into a controlled grip; a warning hold.

… You’re so going to die here.

The realisation has you gasping on a shuddery breath, tears gathered from your painful fall now weeping down your cheeks at the physical and mental strain of it all. The emotional turmoil of being so viciously confronted with the sudden fragility of your existence.

There’s no mercy here, you realise. No conceivable way to weasel yourself out of this now that you’ve been captured. Any excuse you can think up, any plea your brain desperately provides turns to ash in your mouth. There’s no way out of this…

He’s going to kill you…

You’re going to become one of them…

Glimpsing the flickers of light snagging on their ethereal forms you try not to actively look and search them out. The cold is far more prevalent when surrounded by them all, all no doubt watching you now that Joseph’s ramblings have come to a close at your impromptu arrival.

You try not to shiver though, try not to draw attention to the fact that you’re trying to look for something that isn't there. You’re sure you fail though, if the way Joseph slowly tilts his head is any indication. Natural eye colour tinted differently with the defence of his sickly yellow glasses between you.

Effortlessly, the older man kneels in front of you. Keenly observing you as you sniffle and barely hold back a shiver, breathe a contained gasp at how close he suddenly is. You try to retreat, to back away from him but you can’t; his hands quickly yet gently take your face into his grasp, holding you steady in his subtle inspection of you.

He calls you a child, tone patronising yet insufferably endearing as if you know no better. Looming over you as he admonishes you with all the righteous authority of a concerned father. Falls into a terrifying inflection of faux-sympathy as his thumbs brush absent circles into your damp cheeks, passes too close to your vulnerable eyes to be anything less than an unspoken threat; an intimidating yet wordless demand for your compliance.

You merely stare wide eyed at him, listen halfheartedly to his fraudulent platitudes and serpentine reassurances. Addressing all present, not just yourself as the object of his unwavering stare. Manufacturing a humble spectacle as he makes voiced inquiries he has no intention of letting you answer, drawing assumptions that rile up the onlookers into a thunderous rapture as much as it eases them from the edge of action.

Completely controlled and controlling.

An arrogance thinly veiled, a power freely wielded and openly demonstrated.

He is dangerous, beyond reason and comprehension. The devil is a sweet talker, and Joseph’s tongue is an enticing silver snare for the unguarded; words an enchanting will-o-wisp preying on the gloom of a despondent soul.

It’s little wonder he has risen to such notoriety.

Then his eyes drop, his voice stills, and his smile fades.

A pause. Lengthy and considering; lined with a tenuous, yet undefinable tension.

Watched by all around with bated breath, your interaction a show upon this most undesired stage, the hum of your joint audience a silent wonder and murmured question.

… What is he–?

Before you can follow the thought, he reaches for you.

He takes your camera.

“No, wait– let go of me!”

In the midst of your renewed struggle, panicked and desperate as he frees you from the metaphorical shackle of your camera and its strap around your neck, you keep your wary sight trained on Joseph. Watch in morbid interest in case he sees something, that he’ll be scarred by whatever it is he finds on the other side, letting you go free from the fear that will no doubt begin to plague him at such a blasphemous view.

Though you also fearfully hope he doesn’t break it…

He carefully turns your camera to and fro, expression contemplative as his fingers brush over the vintage wood. Tracing the elegant silver vines and delicate spirals inlayed into its frame.

He looks to you, peers at you over the frame of his garish glasses in a manner too much like the ghosts that watch you both.

You can’t keep the contact, too quick to look away and stare wantonly at your camera instead. Casting nervous glances to the flickers of unnatural light in the corners of your vision; afterimages quick to dodge your direct line of sight.

Joseph raises the camera; looks it over one last time, before finally looking through the viewfinder.

You hold your breath, struggles ceasing a second after at the morbid wonder that has taken hold. He doesn’t jolt or flinch or give any indication that he sees anything, simply looks through it. Seamlessly turning to point the camera at the many people around him, to turn it on his own brothers and sister; to turn it on you.

You flinch violently at having the dark lens of your camera pointed at you; the abysmal eye of death’s observer trained intently on your trembling form. Your terrified and living visage reflected in the black pitch of its glass.

Click—

There’s a flash, blinding and sudden and you yelp at the revitalised burn of your eyes, held tightly closed as you attempt to blink away the afterimage seared into your poor eyes: the ominous face of your camera staring back at you, a mask upon the devil before you.

Hesitantly your eyes flutter open, ears picking up at the laborious whir of your old camera as it develops the film.

Joseph is disinterested in you, focused purely on the picture slowly drooling from the film ejector.

He takes it gently, briefly shaking it to help develop the picture quicker. Once he’s satisfied, he stares. Shaded eyes glossing over the captured details of your person.

Green tinted eyes slowly crawl from the picture to its living counterpart. Watching you from his towering advantage as you shrink further under his blank yet intense gaze. So much like them, so much like them…

And then he smiles.

“You can see them too.”

[multiuniverse02]

A huge shoutout to @ziorre for letting me self indulge and drawing a commission for myself with my hubby Jacob. I couldn’t ask for anything better! Thank you so so much for fulfilling my fantasy request!

(Click for higher resolution)

[kittycatlukey]

Dating John Seed (The Baptist) Would Include— •You and John would go to a fancy restaurant and eat dinner at least once a week. John insists that after dinner, you two would either go to the mall, eat ice cream, ice-skating, bowling, or something fun

•Him spoiling you 24/7

•Cuddles every single night as you fall asleep in each other's arms

•Watching crime shows/movies all the time

•You always falling asleep on his shoulder

•The Baptist being extremely clingy and possessive

•Going to Joseph's every sermon together

•Passionate kisses, full of lust (The Father would not approve, but what he doesn't know won't kill him😎)

•LOTS OF PDA‼️ I cannot stress this enough🤣 Johnny boy loves public displays of affection. He loves to show off what's his😉 John is forevermore kissing you or holding you in public, but you definitely don't mind at all

•When you want to stay at home, John would try to cook for you but everything, and I mean everything, backfires. Poor John doesn't know how to cook; he tries his best though which is really cute🥺. Then, you have to take over, saving the day after he nearly catches his Ranch on fire and the smoke detectors start going off. One time you even had to get out the fire extinguisher😳

•You would support John and get baptized by him and watch him baptize others for the cult

•When there was a holiday on the way, John would make the Peggies decorate his whole Ranch how you want it

•Many of your arguments didn't last too long, but a few do and you have to walk out to cool off. Immediately when you leave, John's heart sinks and he thinks you're leaving him for good. You would never leave him though. You would come back after a few hours and find him laying in bed, crying in a fetal position. In an instant, your anger would vanish and you would comfort him and cuddle. He would quickly smile and wipe away his tears, not wanting to cry in front of you. After about an hour of talking and giggling, you two would gradually fall asleep, embracing each other, forgetting the argument from earlier

•Bonding with John's siblings and becoming apart of the Seed family:

-You being close to Joseph, feeling like you could talk to him about anything. The Father was like a father to you. He knew you were special from the beginning, keeping a close eye on you before you and John started talking. After all, according to Joseph, it was God's plan for you and the Baptist to be together

-You and Jacob hating each other at first, but slowly learning to get along. Eventually, he was like a big brother to you. You two found out you had a few things in common as well after getting to know each other. He began to respect you more after learning how much you genuinely love John and care for him. Having the oldest Seed sibling respect you is a tough thing to achieve so consider yourself lucky

-You and Faith clicked instantly. She was easy to get along with and was super nice from the start. She was like a little sister to you. Anytime there was a dinner at Joseph's house, she always asked John if you were coming because she wanted to see you. And of course you went everytime. Faith adored you

•John was always romantic and giving you [expensive] presents all the time: for every occasion and for no occasion at all. It's a John thing to show you he loves you. You tell him not to, but he does anyway

•Him always kissing you on the lips. It's his favorite thing about you. They're just so soft and plump

NSFW:

•John being very experienced and always exceeding your sexual needs. He's incredibly attentive to you in bed and cares for you after as well

•John being more of a top but would gladly let you take over occasionally

•Him being insanely kinky and adventurous to try new positions and kinks

•The Baptist enjoys giving and receiving and doesn't prefer one over the other. He loves when your thighs shake while he's giving you head though 😏

[deputyash]

I’d like to try writing for Joseph sometime so if y’all have any ideas (smaller ones for now), send them in!

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

Pairing: Wheaty x Reader

Summary: Wheaty likes the reader, but he always sees them with the deputy - Anonymous

You were always excited to see the deputy when they showed up at the Wolf’s Den. A little too excited, if anyone asked Wheaty. Luckily, no one ever did. What made it worse was all the attention the deputy paid you, and the gifts they often brought: a bobblehead here, a comic book there, at one point they even brought you a cool looking handgun they’d taken off a dead peggie.

But Wheaty was not jealous. Especially not now as he watched you and the dep play fetch with Boomer on the helipad while he sifted through the new batch of records they brought.

“What’s eating you?”

“Jesus!” Wheaty started, knocking the case of vinyls to the ground. He hadn’t known Jess was traveling with the deputy. He looked up to find you watching him, and spluttered. “I don’t- what do you mean?”

Jess groaned internally, but joined him in gathering the records he’d dropped. “You been going through the same box for the last half hour,” she said. “You pissed that Dep’s hanging out with your crush or something?”

“No,” he scoffed, a bit too forcefully to be convincing.

“Why are you out here watching them, then?”

“I’m not. Wanted some fresh air, is all.”

“They’re not a thing, you know.”

Wheaty paused, considering his next words carefully. “But, they want to be?”

“Nope.” Jess grabbed the case and placed it back on the table. “They just both got their priorities outta whack. I tell ‘em there’ll be plenty of time for fun once these Eden’s Gate fucks are taken care of, but they’re ‘seize the moment’ types. Yo Dep!” she shouted. “We should get going!”

“Alright!” the deputy called back in annoyance.

“Seize the moment,” Jess whispered. “And don’t fuck it up.”

“You guys really shouldn’t shout,” you said as you approached. “I get we’re in the middle of the woods and all, but Jacob’s still trying to find us. Someone could hear.”

“You’re right, we’re sorry.” The deputy pulled you into a hug, holding it longer than Wheaty would have liked. “We’ll go fishing next time, ok?”

You agreed, and you and Wheaty watched in silence as they disappeared down the mountain.

“So, um… wanna do something fun and piss off the peggies?” Wheaty asked nervously.

You turned to him and grinned. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, did I ever tell you why I asked the deputy to find all these vinyls for me?”

“No, why?”

Wheaty smiled, glad to have your attention. “Well I had this idea for pirate radio…”

Permanent -  @melconnor2007 @ria132love @psychicwitchphilosopher @sireennotsiren @silence–in–the–library@thefridgeismybestie@hymnofthevalkyrie@abbybills22@mvasquez492@ek823@nicky10876@sophiealiice @madeof-ink@dugan365 @magnitude101999 @way-ward-whale @i-am-the-fandom-warrior @seabasstiantrash @eden-the-human-garden

If I missed you in the tags, let me know!

[meghan-huntergirl-winchester]

So these are some story ideas I came up with today during my 2 hour gap between classes. Would y’all be interested in any of these becoming stories? The first prompt is for a WWE story and the other 2 are for Far Cry 5. Let me know if you would like me to write these and if there is one in particular you really want to see!!

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Where The Moonlight Shines (Part Three)

Summary:  You’re a junior deputy in Hope County, Montana when things go to hell in a handbasket with the local cult. It’s months before help arrives in the form of the Avengers, taking you down a road you never expected.

Chapter Summary: Jacob calls you back to the mountains and the Resistance makes it’s last stand. 

Features: Violence; Depiction of torture; Murder; Mind control

Pairing: TBD

Series Warnings: Canon typical violence; depictions/mentions of torture; depictions/mentions of brainwashing; will add more as they become relevant

Notes: Discussion of mind control and canon typical violence

This is a crossover between Far Cry 5 and the MCU

Word Count: 2939

Part One | Part Two

Joseph had called Faith to Jacob’s compound a few days after your return. You were by Jacob’s side, still nursing bruises from the punishment you had taken for John’s death. For a moment, you had thought you wouldn’t make it this time. Jacob had looked at you with a cruel smile before telling you that you weren’t going anywhere. Joseph reminded you that you were right where you needed to be, with a look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine in fear. You wondered what the plans were that your friends had made. The Seeds knew someone had entered the county, but you had been able to keep from telling them who. 

“Your sins will be forgiven once you say yes, my child. All you have to do is say yes,” Joseph said. 

You were sat in a chair, an uncomfortable one at that. You’d take that over the cage Jacob usually kept you in, even if you had to sit and listen to Joseph preach. He was standing before those gathered at the former hospital, broadcasting over the radio to the County. You stayed silent. For the first time since things kicked off all those months ago, you felt utterly powerless. You couldn’t see a way out this time. The last time you escaped from Jacob, you had ended up right back with him. You could handle Faith. You could handle John. But the only way you could get away from Jacob was if he let you. And he wasn’t going to let you.

A tension hung in the air. You knew something was on the horizon. You hoped the Resistance would attack first. The Project may have had the home field advantage, but you believed in the Resistance. You believed in your friends. An ambush on the Resistance wouldn’t end well for the Resistance. They were too scattered on a normal day, spread across the county. The only road to victory was a coordinated attack before the Project could launch one of their own. 

You knew it was coming. In three days time, the Project would be taking the fight to the Resistance. You were in the room as they planned. Jacob was confident you wouldn’t be escaping, that you wouldn’t be able to warn them. 

“Those who continue to fight against us, the sinners who seek to destroy our Eden, will be brought to their knees. And our Deputy will help us in pursuing our cause, in securing Eden’s Gate,” Joseph said as he continued to preach. You refused to allow yourself to cry. 

“Forgiveness is a powerful tool. The Deputy has repented for the vicious murder of John, my brother, our Baptist. The Deputy has faced her judgment for her sin, for becoming so consumed in her wrath. John was not a perfect man. Not one of us who walks this earth is perfect,” Joseph preached. Judgment. If by judgment he meant fighting to the death with others. More red in your ledger. More blood on your hands. Kill or be killed. Jacob’s sick idea of culling the herd, killing the weak. Only the strongest survived. It was a gauntlet of those who had wronged the Project. 

You closed your eyes and Joseph started to pray. As much as you wanted to cry, you refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. You refused to let them get further under your skin. Jacob had one thing right. You were strong. You were strong enough to know that you might have to sacrifice yourself if push came to shove, to end this once and for all. 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. You had heard whispers from a new prisoner that the Resistance was preparing for something. He was hopeful, that maybe he would make it out. You hoped you all would. You were back in a cage, sleeping under the stars, the sounds of other prisoners around you. You were used to it. Jacob treated you like animals. Trained you like animals. 

It was just past dawn when the first show was fired. The quiet base camp erupted into chaos and you knew it would only be a matter of time before Jacob put you on the field. You had a plan, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to do it. It hinged on a delay in Jacob activating the conditioning. You had managed to lose him in the fray and managed to find a weapon that lay discarded beside a fallen Peggie. 

You knew it was only a matter of time before that damned song started playing and you were determined to prevent it. If it was broadcasting around the compound, you would have no chance of avoiding it. You knew he’d still have the music box, but at least with the speakers out of play, you could minimize the damage done. You weren’t the only soldier in play. 

You knew where the controls were for the speakers. Getting there was going to be the issue. You had learned since your initial capture all those months ago that as much as your powers could be used to heal, they could be used to hurt. And you used that to your advantage. You didn’t want to kill. You didn’t need more blood on your hands. You had enough of that to last several lifetimes after the things you’d been made to do in the name of the Project against your will and from the things you had to do as a member of the Resistance, trying to stop the Project. 

You raced up the stairs of the main building. Jacob’s office held the controls. He kept it locked when he wasn’t there, no longer trusting Staci after he helped you escape once. It had been sheer luck and perhaps a moment of stupidity on your part that Staci hadn’t ended up dead for his actions that day. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” you yelled as you tried to force the door open. You had a choice to make. You just had to hope he was cocky enough not to replace the door when they had taken over the building. If it was rotted out enough, you’d be able to take it down with no problem. You had enough room to take a running start at the door, managing enough momentum to crash through. Thank god for that oversight. You knew exactly which panel to take out and lined up your shot as you heard a gun cock.

“Might wanna rethink that one, honey,” Jacob’s voice came. Slowly, you turned. Staci Pratt stood beside him. Pratt looked like a shell of his former self. And he held the music box. The only reason he wasn’t sitting in a bunker or dead was because you had pleaded for his life after he helped you escape. You had returned of your own choosing that time, sacrificing yourself for his life, knowing what would happen to him otherwise. He was one of your closest friends and you’d be damned if you let him down.  

“Now, I’m going to play you your favorite song, and you’re going to take out those Avengers. I know you can, honey,” Jacob taunted as he snapped his fingers at Pratt. To his credit, Pratt at least looked apologetic. The familiar red haze fell over you as the opening notes played. You weren’t in control and you felt Jacob attach the communication device to your ear. 

“Run along, you have a job to do,” he said. You tried to fight it, tried to fight back. You grit your teeth, pain setting in from forcing yourself to stay put when your body was conditioned to follow orders. 

Try as you might, you were moving and it wasn’t of your own accord. A silent tear fell. You heard his words repeating over and over. Cull the herd. Kill the weak. You were well aware you weren’t in the driver’s seat. 

From a perch a distance away, Grace saw you emerge into the chaos of battle. She said a silent prayer as she lined up to take the shot. She didn’t want to do it, but she had promised you. You were their leader, you were the reason the Resistance had held out so long. As she moved to take the shot, someone yanked the rifle from her hands. She glanced up to see Natasha Romanoff.

“What are you doing?” Grace asked.

“Stopping you. You’re not doing this,” Natasha said.

“I promised her,” Grace said.

“Sometimes, promises are made to be broken. She’ll thank you later,” Natasha said as she turned her attention back to the fighting going on. Bucky had managed to subdue you momentarily, the speakers disabled. The pair watched as you struggled. 

You thrashed as someone wrapped their arms around you and the music stopped. You couldn’t make out what they were saying as the device was yanked from your ear, Jacob’s words fading away. You blinked as you started coming back too. The fighting it seemed had stopped. But then you saw him. Jacob stood, cocky as ever, the music box now in his hand.

“It was an adorable try, Sergeant. But you’ll have to try harder than that to save our dear Deputy,” Jacob said. You pushed the super soldier off of you, picking the gun you’d dropped up off the ground. 

“Not. Today. Jacob,” you ground out. He laughed. You had your gun aimed at him. He held his hands up in mock surrender.

“You’re cute when you think you stand a chance, honey. But at the end of the day, you’ll always be my lap dog. I tell you to kill, you--,” his speech was cut off by you firing the gun. He staggered forward. You didn’t move. It felt like everything was in slow motion. You blinked several times, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you, whether it was from the shock or your puppet master’s imminent demise, you weren’t sure. 

“Oh my god,” you said. You were shaking. You heard footsteps. Jacob was still breathing, albeit it shallowly. You dropped the gun and fell to your knees as you took in the carnage around you. You felt sick to your stomach, wondering how many of these people had died by your hand. A woman approached you slowly. 

“Don’t think about it,” the woman said. You recognized Wanda as you came out of the haze fully. Things were a blur. You were escorted out to where people were being rounded up in the wake of the fight. Joseph was kneeling, cuffed with two Avengers standing guard, Hawkeye and Spiderman. Staci stayed close to you. 

“We’re alright Pratt. We’re alright. I told you we’d make it out of this,” you said quietly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He was shaking like a leaf.  You had often made that promise to him. That come hell or high water, you’d get the two of you out. He let out a sob. You wanted to cry too, but your tears had stopped months ago. 

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

“We had an eye on her before all this. We saw her a few days ago and she was fine when we met her. What’s the status report?” Steve asked Wanda. Wanda had been seeing to some of those who had been rounded up. She had spent time with you and Staci in the immediate aftermath of the fighting.  He hadn’t spoken and you kept it to the bare minimum. 

“She was taken by the...cult not long after the helicopter crash. She had been assisting the Resistance as their leader. The first month she was held in the bunker of the one they called the Baptist. Torture. It was torture. He would torture people until they confessed sins to him. Then she was sent here. Her mind...the music box Jacob Seed had...it will trigger her into...into a killing machine. I don’t know the specifics, if there are orders he embedded. But that song...it’s like the words that would trigger Bucky, before Shuri helped him. When we spoke before she came back to Jacob, she only mentioned that she’d been hurt. Not that Jacob had done something like this to her,” Wanda said. Bucky looked toward the woman who sat curled under a blanket. 

“Like me?” Bucky asked. He felt his heart breaking, for her, for the others like her. He knew all too well what it was like to have your choices, your freedom taken away, to be forced into following orders. When he’d heard the discussions on contingency planning, he hadn’t known what to think. He had confided in Natasha. Natasha had stayed back, watching for Grace. It was on Natasha to stop her from enacting the contingency plan, from killing you. 

“That’s what Jacob Seed was doing out here. Conditioning people into becoming perfect soldiers. Obedient,” Wanda said. 

“Did he…?” Natasha asked trailing off. Wanda knew what she was asking.

“No. For a cult of murderers, even they seem to have had a code of ethics,” Wanda said. 

“But they were fine with murder, torture, and kidnapping,” Sam said. 

“In their eyes...it was saving these people. At all costs. We have a county full of people who just went through unspeakable trauma. How are we going to help?” she countered. 

“We need to find out how many of them have been conditioned. Figure out how many people are missing. This is going to take a long time to sort out,” Steve said. 

“What about her? She’s got abilities. Do we leave her here with the response team or do we bring her with us?” Natasha asked. 

“We’ll bring her with us. We can help her. We don’t know the extent of her abilities. Leaving her with civilian doctors would be a risk,” Steve said. Bucky glanced back at her once more, feeling another pang in his chest. If Jacob Seed wasn’t dead already, he would have killed him himself. 

He found you sitting with Joey Hudson and Staci Pratt. Staci had refused to leave your side. You were holding him, running a hand through his hair as you said something to him quietly. Hudson was on his other side, arm wrapped around him. As Bucky walked closer, he could see the shaking of Pratt’s shoulders. 

“You’ll be okay, Staci. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You survived. Jacob didn’t,” you said, your voice low.

“He was weak,” he said. You nodded.

“We’re going to get you help. All of us are going to get help. What we’ve gone through...you’re like family to be, Staci. After the hell they put us through, after what they made us do. You’re still my family,” you told him. 

Bucky cleared his throat, making his presence known. You gave him a knowing look. Everyone knew what he’d gone through. 

“I’d ask how you’re holding up, but I think I have a pretty good idea,” he said. You let out a light laugh. 

“Somewhere between ‘surely I’ll wake up from this nightmare eventually’ and ‘the evil has been defeated’,” you said. You shared a look with Joey when you saw the confusion on his face. You figured he wouldn’t have gotten the reference. 

He sat with the three of you for a while, listening as you spoke. You were surprised when he managed to get Staci to say more than a few words by bringing up baseball of all things. You allowed yourself a moment to glance around the area. Bodies were covered with white sheets. More law enforcement than you’d seen in your life were there and helicopters hovered for just a few minutes before leaving. It figured the news would be in the area. 

“The governor’s closed the airspace over Hope County to non-military or law enforcement aircraft,” Natasha Romanoff said as she walked up. You wondered if that was for your benefit or if she was just informing Bucky. Wanda was walking with her. When she had spoken to you earlier, she had told you about her powers. You marveled at the fact that she had stuck around so long. She said she was good at tuning things out, but you knew the amount of pain and suffering had to be taking its toll. 

“Wanda, have you had a chance to take a break?” you asked, startling the other woman.

“I’ll be fine Rook. What about you? Have you gone to see one of the doctors? Any of you?” she asked. You sighed.

“I...may have...maybe done a thing?” you said. Joey smacked your shoulder.

“I thought you weren’t going to tell them,” she said.

“They know, Joey. Wanda made me promise to rest. Not to strain myself if no one was in a life threatening situation,” you said. You had done what you could for Staci, for yourself. You were tired. As much as your arm was around Staci to comfort him, it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“We should get you all somewhere to rest. Questions can wait. I’ll take you back to the Rye’s,” Natasha said. You nodded, standing up before helping Staci up. 

“Nat are you sure that’s a good idea? They should get checked out,” Wanda said, concern in her voice. You felt Staci tense beside you.

“It’ll be fine,” Natasha said before gesturing for the three of you to follow her. Natasha led the three of you to a waiting car. You fell asleep within a few minutes, the first truly peaceful sleep you’d had in months.

[englass]

It’s so weird not having the request box here when it comes to doing prompts, but sod it. I’ve only had one prompt so far from the random list I made and I’m wanting to attempt them, so I’m joining in and gonna request them from myself also– when the mood strikes me that is. So, on that note, I’m going attempt one of the stranger ones on this list:

For John Seed x Reader,

10. “Sometimes I dream about making love to you in the blood of everyone who has ever wronged you.”

- - -

Gently John urges you closer, one hand sweet against your neck while the other grips and kneads at the dip of your waist. His lips tenderly insistent against your own, tongue brushing teasingly along your lower lip before he nips at it, drawing away for the briefest of moments only to return and repeat the loving exchange. Silently you reply to him; meet every press of his lips with your own eagerly, return every nip with a humming whine and sooth him with encouraging touches and smitten smiles everytime he stops to pull away and look up at you.

Your fingers absently stroke and brush through his dark hair, cradling his head safely between your arms as you carefully support yourself over him. Occasionally he pulls you closer, begs silently without words for you to lay yourself fully against him, to put all your weight onto him as you often ask him to do with you during your most intimate of unions. Where the world seems too loud and all you want to do is find peace within the raw embrace and feeling of the man that you love. With a quiet moan you submit to his coaxing, lowering yourself to lay the line of your body against his.

A satisfied sound rumbles deeply within John’s chest, the hand at your neck sliding to your nape and into your hair, shivers skating down your spine as his nails lightly scrape your scalp in his encouraging motion. His hips raise leisurely to meet your own, rolling with a confident ease that has always left you breathless, and maybe a touch envious, even when you’re doing nothing more than making out like two love-struck teenagers. Despite doing something so seemingly juvenile, John never fails to get your heart racing and cheeks heating.

With a purr your misunderstood partner parts from you with a lingering kiss, the expressive azure of his eyes sparkling up at you as his nose nuzzles your own adoringly. You can’t help the embarrassing noise that gets caught in your throat, a bashful smile lighting up your face along with a fierce blush that you hide within the crook of John’s neck. He chuckles at your shyness, opting instead to rub his cheek against your own, the scratch of his beard oddly comforting as it meets your warm flesh.

“You know,” he starts quietly, conversationally, the hand at your waist thoughtlessly tracing his favorite word onto a slither of exposed skin, “sometimes-” a fractured laugh, “as strange as this may sound, but… sometimes I dream about making love to you in the blood of everyone who has ever wronged you.”

You blink. Blink again, a quick flutter of your lashes.

… Huh…

“What makes you say that?” you question carefully, slowly pulling yourself away from the safety of his neck to properly look at him, your fingers continuing to card comfortingly through his hair.

Self-consciously John shifts beneath you, head tilting slightly so he doesn't have to look directly at you. You frown at this. Disentangling one of your hands from him you draw it to instead rest sweetly against his cheek, softly imploring him to look back at you. He does, reluctantly, a sad shade glimmering within the pools of his eyes; a flicker of a growing regret.

“I...” he hesitates, watching as your own eyes gaze patiently down at him. The colour of them alight with a shade wholly their own; uniquely you, “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined the mood by saying that now, haven't I?” There's the barest hint of a smile, a note of humour that he quickly abandons. You’re not sure why, you’ve always adored that playfulness of his. No matter the situation it comes out into.

“I didn't say that,” you rebuff quietly.

The way his eyes light up with a wary hope at your words both breaks and melts your heart in an equally painful measure. Your thumb brushing against the apple of his cheek you duck your head closer to him, your nose nudging questionably against his own. He’s quick to answer back, a blend of urgency that is purely John’s as he knocks his own back against you, raising himself closer to drag his nose across your cheek in order to place chaste kiss after chaste kiss against the flushed skin.

“I was just curious why you said it, is all,” you breathe.

“Because it’s true,” there’s no doubt within his words, that brief iota of insecurity of his gone in the wake of his genuity, his unbending certainty, “because I’d do it if I could…” He trails off for a beat. Ocean eyes shifting shades into something so soft yet so heartbreakingly sad at the same time; as though looking upon something divine, but fearing – knowing (incorrectly) that it could never be yours, and yet all the while still vainly hoping for it all the same. “And if you would let me.”

For a moment you don’t say anything. Simply listening and memorising the sound of his voice, the lilt within his tone that made his words sound more questioning than you think he intended them to sound. Regardless of whether it was a true question or not, you answer him the way you have all night: you smile, a little more lopsided than you intended, and once more cautiously lower yourself to lay yourself closer upon him. Your cheek brushing against his, his beard a comforting sensation to yourself, as you gently press a kiss to his temple.

An injured noise chokes itself within John’s throat, his arms moving to completely wrap around and hold you as tightly to him as he reasonably can. Drawing in a deep breath as he buries his face within your hair, completely taking you in all your mericul splendor. To think, despite the life that he’s lived and the monster that he’s become, he would be lucky enough to be blessed with an angel like you.

“I can’t say that I necessarily approve of such a thing,” you finally say, holding him close with a content sigh, “but I appreciate the sentiment, my darling.”

“It’s more than a sentiment, sweetheart. I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” and even though you shouldn’t say it, even though you really shouldn’t encourage or feed these darker desires and aspects of him, these broken pieces that make him something different, you can’t deny that– “and I love you for it, John.”

[aghostfromtheages]

WIP Ch. 6 Hunting Season

John Seed requires your confession, and atonement

“Not that a confession is necessary at this point…” he pulls away, tapping the screwdriver thoughtfully against the chair before placing it on a nearby table. “No, your sins my dear...are known by the whole county.” Without hesitation, John takes hold of the collar of your shirt and tears it down the middle, exposing your chest. You cry out and struggle in surprise but John places a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He smoothes your hair back in mock tenderness. “You were doing so well... What would Jacob think?”

[deputyash]

The Deputy’s Eden

Characters: Deputy!Reader, People from Hope County

Word Count: 1,435

Warnings: Mention of Torture/Violence

Summary: The Deputy is more neutral in this fight than everyone thought.

Tagging: @99shadowcat99 @xmisswolfx

A/N: This story was inspired by a post that @99shadowcat99 made! Here’s the link so ya’ll can check it out! :))

Oh! And there’s a bit of back and forth with flashbacks, hope it's not too confusing! :)

Hope ya’ll Enjoy! :D

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

You come bursting out of the Resistance outpost with one unconscious woman in your arms and several others, men and women, following behind. Gunfire comes showering towards you all, but you just call for the people to jump into your truck. You hand the woman off to a man in the backseat and you get in the driver’s side before taking off down the road with a truck full of people.

“How could you Deputy!” Your radio screams.

You only shake your head and switch the radio off the frequency.

You had just re-liberated another outpost from the Resistance. You’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, saving people from the Resistance’s strongholds. Why you ask? Well, it's not a pretty story.

After several weeks of fighting the cult and helping the Resistance you began to realize that they too weren’t as innocent as they seemed. You found out that they were kidnapping cultists and torturing them. Using horrible methods to get information. They even admitted to doing it out of spite or cruel fun. They were no better than the cult at this point! Both of them were just killing or torturing anyone who wasn’t their own.

You can’t help but scoff. You never did have any real loyalty to the Resistance anyways.

Sure, you had a few friends among them, but a full blown pledge? No, not then and definitely not now.

So you began capturing both cult outposts as well as Resistance ones that partook in torture. Pretty soon you had a whole gaggle of rescuees from your expeditions across the county.

At first you figured the rescued cult members would go back to attacking you as well, but they didn’t. They all just looked lost and scared, so you brought them to an unoccupied outpost that you had claimed as your own.

As you drive down the road, a quiet voice speaks to you from the backseat.

“Are you really the merciful Deputy that everyone speaks of?” The injured woman you had carried earlier asks.

You never know how to answer that question, “I suppose so.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much for saving us. We thought we were going to die.”

“I won’t let that happen.” You reply as you see your complex coming up in the distance.

During the early days of rescuing Peggies, it was a bit like having a bunch of ducklings. They wandered around your compound and followed you. They were trying to figure out what was going to happen. Eventually you had to try to shoo them away.

“Go on, go do something.” You said, motioning them away.

“But what are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Your religion stuff I guess.”

“You’d let us practice?”

“As long as you promise not to kidnap, harm, or murder anyone, you’re free to do as you please.”

Everyone looked around at each other and nodded.

“We promise. Thank you, Deputy!”

They all ran off and began chattering to each other about plans. They decided at that moment that they would set up a little community. They began fixing up houses and buildings in the area. They even helped you fix up a house for yourself. It was kind of nice to have people help you and each other. It really took a lot off your shoulders. It was refreshing.

As you pull into your outpost, men and women alike come rushing towards the truck. They open the back and help out the people like it was routine. They lead the injured to a small building labelled “Medics” and the others are brought to a series of picnic tables filled with food and pitchers of water. They bring the new arrivals clothing and introduce themselves. 

A woman comes up to you, “Welcome back, Deputy. Are you in need of any assistance? I can bring you some bandages.”

“No, I’m alright. How is everyone doing here?”

“We’re doing just fine, Deputy. The cooks are preparing tonight’s feast.”

“Oh yeah, that’s tonight isn’t it?”

“Yes! How could you forget? It marks your great successes that you’ve brought to Hope County!”

“You’re all too kind.”

“Well you deserve it, Y/N. You’ve done so much for us all.”

Well, it wasn’t a lie. You have done a lot. And what started out as a simple rescue mission transformed into a huge community-building project that just kept growing.

At first there were only twelve of you, but that number grew fast. On top of the people you brought from your crusades across the county, others came on their own accord. Some were ex-Resistance, others were exiled from Eden’s Gate. Your community was becoming a ragtag group of misfits and honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You all worked together. Houses were built or repaired, vegetable gardens and even some flowers were grown. (Of course, you opted for non hallucinogenic flowers.)

Life here was becoming pretty good in those regards.

During the early days, you remember sitting on the porch of your house when a few of your ex-Peggie followers come up to you. They looked so anxious and afraid. They looked at you with pleading eyes as they spoke.

“Deputy, We appreciate you for saving us, but...we’re still afraid. What are we going to do when the Collapse comes?”

You took a look around as you thought of what to do. Hmm....

Your eyes suddenly landed on the surrounding forest and an idea popped into your mind.

“I think there might be an old bunker nearby. It needs some fixing up, but I think it could work.”

You watch as their eyes light up.

“That will work! We can fix it! Bless you, Deputy!”

“Good evening, Deputy!”

“Hello, Y/N!”

“Welcome back, Deputy!”

People always love to greet you as you walk through the complex. They all move about, doing various activities and tasks. Some are tending to gardens and preparing food while others build or sew. Everything was functioning like a real community and the entire place was a grand display of joy. Children run through the fields of flowers, playing and laughing amongst themselves. Men and women talk and smile. Everyone was so peaceful and happy.

Despite all the violent happening around the county, you all managed to keep a mutual agreement within the complex. The only time this compound was threatening was when a group of true Peggies or Resistance members tried to attack you. They didn’t hesitate to fight back or treat your wounds. And you did the same for them.

The ex-Peggies even changed their title. They became Eden’s Protectors. They restored an old church that was in the center of the area. They broke open the boarded windows and cleaned out all the dust and grim. It looked like a regular old church after it was painted a crisp white. It was kind of home-y in a way.  

After it was fully restored, the newly formed Eden’s Protectors started holding church services and celebrations. They created a new collection of scripture and hymns. They even dedicated a song to you, “Praise be to the Deputy.” It was a little strange at first, but eventually it grew on you. You appreciated their thoughtfulness.

A few times you even humored them and came to some of their morning services.

You remembered leaving your house and people greeting you and wishing you a good morning.

“Praise be to you, Deputy!” People would call as you pass.

You often reminded them that you were just a normal person like anyone else, but they hardly listened. They told you that you had saved them and that you showed them true happiness. They told you that you were special to them. You were speechless to say the least.

And now tonight, they were holding a feast in honor of you and the new members of community. You help out as much as you can and soon enough everything is in place. Tables are moved together and large tablecloths lay out across them all.

Everyone takes a seat and begins to eat and talk. They greet the new members and welcome them. They tell them all about life in the complex. You watch as shy gazes turn into happy confident ones. They begin to relax and enjoy themselves.

It was strange in a way, seeing so many different people working together and being friends and families. You never would have thought you’d end up here, end up with a little following of you own.

It’s a strange life, but it was Home. It was your paradise, your Eden.

[kaysreadingarchive]

Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing: Part 3

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Reader, slightly John Seed x Reader x Joseph Seed

AUs: Omegaverse, werewolves

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death, threats, theft

Word Count: 2,741

A/N:  Thank you all for your love and support while I write trash and sip tea. It means the world to me! And like always, give me some feedback on what I could do better or what I did alright, where you wanna see this whole mess go, or something you just don’t understand. I also really want to know what your theories are for the coming story. I always love reading your guys' analyses.

Masterlist       Omegaverse Rules

-------

The picture just seemed to vanish. It wasn’t ripped up anywhere or jammed to the bottom of the bag. Your eyes were getting strained from how many countless times you look for it. You dug through your torn clothes and nothing came up. To other people, it might have looked like you’ve gone mad. Ripping up clothes with an uneasy gleam in your eyes. Maybe they even turned red like John’s. That color still sent shivers down your spine when you thought of it. A dark red, almost an old blood or maroon color.

If it wasn’t here, it had to be inside the church. You could just go in, it would be quick. It would be way easier than looking at someone or making eye contact. Then they would have to start a conversation and you weren’t in the mood to talk about how bad America’s politics were or the latest crop failure.

You looked from the entrance of the white church back to the bed of your truck. As you thought your plan over, you started to chew the inside of your cheek out of habit. The plan was pretty solid, the problem was the people outside rather than inside. Joseph, John, and Jacob stood at the door as people hugged and talked. They blocked most of the entrance as if it was a sign they didn’t want you in. Were they hiding something? This theory alone was stupid. Of course, they were hiding something, they were shady as hell. Jacob just happened to be the least shady of them.

If someone was talking directly to him, he would just nod, not making a real attempt to answer back. You didn’t really notice, but his blue eyes would wander to your truck where you practically ripped your clothes up more than they were, looking for your photo. Sure, he might have some secrets, but they were something you didn’t want to hear. John’s seemed pretty obvious. His secret was he fucked a lot of women and it was pretty obvious. He had money and a dick, what more could a woman like you want?

If you didn’t go in and it was in there, you would hate yourself. It was the only real thing from your parent’s house that you wanted before it was taken by the bank when they died. But if you did go in there and it wasn’t there, it would be all for nothing. It seemed like a lose-lose situation. It’s only been a couple of minutes and you already feel like giving up.

Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like you had much of a choice. So, you just bit the bullet and hopped out of the truck and made your way along the concrete sidewalk.

The blood was pumping and ringing in your ears along with the overwhelming beat of your heart. You felt the need to make yourself as small as possible. Maybe if you did, people wouldn’t stare or make comments. How dare she just walk into the Church and disrespect the Family. She doesn’t even thank them or hug them, nor does she have the audacity to talk to them.

As you walked by, these people, these followers gave you the dirtiest looks. It was only when their flock noticed you, the Seeds started to acknowledge you as well. Lana, or Faith as she liked to be called, was the first to notice.

Lana was the least problematic of the four. You’ve never personally spoken to her. Her dark brown hair had daisies woven into it and she wore a white sundress covered in more flowers. What really unnerved you was her smile. Her pearly white teeth were stretched into an uneven smile that stood out against her tan skin. Her smile didn’t reach her brown eyes, which were dull in comparison. She was really trying to show off how innocent she was with the whites. She wanted you to see her this way, as Faith rather than Lana. They seemed like two entirely different people.

You walked slightly farther away from her as she hugged another follower. It was Danny. He not only came for the service, but he stayed behind. Doesn’t have dedication towards his job, but when it comes to weird religions, he’s all for it. This was real proof of how persuasive and charismatic these people turned out to be. To turn someone’s character completely upside down was startling, to say the least.

“Can I help you with anything, my child?” The voice came from behind. It was smooth and gentle. You turned to see Joseph staring with a small smile on his face. His yellow aviators were still present and he looked absolutely ridiculous with no shirt on. Sweat dripped from your brow as you tried to avoid his attentive gaze, but it followed when your eyes landed on a more interesting patch of dirt in front of you.

“I lost something, inside the church. It was a photo.” Fuck, you even sounded suspicious. Your mouth tripped over the words as you tried to shove them out. You sounded and looked like a mess. You could even feel John’s and Jacob’s gazes once more. One was more of glare or stare down than the other. No wonder some people were so terrified, they were intimidating up close. You weren’t even looking directly at them and your anxiety was pushing your heart to the bottom of your stomach.

“We could help you find it.” He sounded sincere like he wanted to help. You knew this all too well. Joseph Seed put up an act, it was very clear to you. Something was boiling underneath. Something dangerous lied below the surface. Maybe it was even worse than John or Jacob.

“NO! I mean… I can do it by myself. Thanks for the offer.” There it goes, your entire life down the drain. You might as well have angered the wrong people. Killed right in front of your own coworker no doubt.

“Please, I insist.” He was pushing. He made it clear in the undertone of his voice that he didn’t want you talking back. You looked back up once more and saw the smile from before was gone. Only replaced by a disappointing frown. In some way, you felt disappointed in yourself. It was odd because you did nothing wrong. What the hell was wrong with you?

Joseph put a hand onto the small of your back and guided you into the church. He started in the right aisles and you started on the left.

You scrounged through tons of daisy petals and hymn notes and nothing showed up. Not even the remains of a photo. But there was something interesting. White books were tucked away behind the back of pews. They had gold trim on it and in the middle was the same weird cross in gold. It was rather heavy and the first page had the title, ‘The Book of Joseph.’ Oh, fuck, this guy had his own fucking bible. Just great, now you knew this place was weird. This just wasn’t any church, it was a different damn religion.

The covers of the book gleaned in the fluorescent lighting as you peered over the rows of pews to Joseph. He was on his knees, back facing you, looking under the seats for the photo. It was somewhat touching that he cared, but that wasn’t the point. You looked down at the book once more.

You could take it. No one would know and bring it back to the Department. Joey would get a kick out of this. There was the possibility of Danny finding out and telling one of the fucking Seeds then you would be in huge trouble. You could already see Jacob waiting outside your house to attack you for stealing from his brother. The mere thought caused you to bite your lip until you could taste the iron flavored blood.

This was a great opportunity to learn more about these guys. Maybe Hope County will remove the wool over their eyes. You looked back at Joseph once more and slipped the book into a pocket that lined your jacket. If you put your hands in your front pockets, no one would suspect a thing.

“Did you find anything?” You called over to Joseph. He got up and dusted off his jeans with an apologetic look on his face.

“I am sorry. I didn’t find anything. If it helps, I will come by if I find it, Deputy.” He knew you were a deputy. Hell, why wouldn’t he? There were only four of you in the entire county, five if you counted Nancy. You wish you could just whip out your badge and arrest him on the spot. It would be so much easier.

“Thank you for your help, Joseph.” You didn’t even bother looking him in the eyes. He would instantly see how guilty you looked as you felt the book’s cover press against the palm of your hand. You could feel the guilt and sorrowfulness start to bubble in your chest. The thought of stealing from a somewhat innocent man was frightening. All this just for some proof of something. Whatever it was had to be bad. A murder confession maybe, you prayed to whatever God or higher being was out there that there was something to gawk at.

You ducked out behind him and went out of the church. The sky was already dark and it made you wonder how long you were looking for that damn photo. You practically sprinted across the yard, your hands placed firmly in the jacket’s pockets. Both John and Jacob watched you leave, but Jacob was a whole other story. His blue eyes were narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the rectangle-shaped object hidden in your jacket. Fuck, he knew! You looked back again to see him just standing there with his large arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips. Both of your eyes met for a split second as he grabbed something from inside his pocket.

It felt like everything was in slow motion when Jacob held YOUR picture between his fingers. His smirk only got bigger when you bit your lip, trying to resist the urge to attack him. It would look bad, it would look so bad. There was no telling what he was going to do with it.

Jacob slowly reached into another pocket and brought out a small lighter. That son of bitch! He was gonna fucking burn it! He looked up again and held the picture right above the flame, swinging it back and forth like he was teasing you. What hurt the most was the fact that he was dragging it out. You knew he had no intention to burn it. “Please don’t…” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard.

Jacob turned off the lighter, and walked closer to you. You could barely hear his heavy footsteps in the dirt over the sound of your blood pumping rapidly in your ears. “What was that, girl?” His deep voice was laced with that teasing tone, much like John’s. He knew it was making you angry and it only seemed to excite him more. From what you could tell, Jacob enjoyed it when others were at his mercy. It was really inflating his already massive ego, but John still held the record. He liked being the top dog, the Alpha. He liked the control. It was like a game of cat and mouse, it was a hunt.

“Nothing, I’ll just be going.” He seemed pleased with this answer because he stuffed the picture back in his pocket without even saying anything. His eyes flashed that same red that never left your memory. This definitely wasn’t your imagination. Jacob slowly backed away and went back to John, making sure to reach into his pocket as he went.

It was nice to know who had it now. Figures it was fucking Jacob. Haven’t even talked to the guy until now, but it was very evident he was a huge asshole. It wasn't like John where he was very active or hyper. He seemed lazy, very out of tune with his emotions. Jacob Seed was definitely someone you didn’t want to fuck with. Especially when he now had this much power over you. You were basically at his beck and call now. Like a little fucking pet. You just hoped he won’t make you suck his dick for the picture.

------

The ride back to the house was tense, even though you were the only one in the truck. You refused to even turn on the radio now that the Project seemed to be playing their own mixtapes. The only things that ate up the dead silence was your breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

The drive wasn’t long just across the river and outside Fall’s End. Pop’s house was just down the road from the Cougar’s home field. It was a small place, but it was cozy for only two people. Your old swing set was in the back and what was odd about your yard was the lack of a bunker.

A lot of doomsday nut jobs lived in Hope County and you weren’t one if you didn’t have a bunker. Earl summed it up to just not believing in that bullshit. If God wanted to pull the plug he would have done it a long time ago before things got really bad.

You parked the truck and hopped out, locking the door. You grabbed your duffle bag and headed inside. “Gramps! I’m home!” You called out down the hall to the living room. The lights were off, but the T.V. was on. It was playing a commercial for Sunrise farms. A plump pumpkin mascot jumped around a field, just begging you to come by and pick one.

And right in front of the T.V., in a reclining chair was Gramps. His hat and glasses were set on the table next to him and his uniform was still on. At Least he got his shoes off this time. He practically lived in that uniform. You turned off the T.V. and put a knitted blanket over him. His snores shook the house at this point. You made your way down the hallway, past the many pictures on the wall to your room.

It was still very girly. With peeling boy band posters and an awful canopy bed. You never got around to upgrading it. It was one of the many things on your list that will never get done. Just imagine bringing a boy home to this. No boys in the country really interested you. Pratt was an obvious one. He had this weird thing for Joey, but Joey was very much into girls. It was well known since high school, despite being a few years ahead of you.

You grabbed the book from inside your jacket and tossed it onto the bed. It flopped onto the sheets with a smack directly onto the spine. It opened to a random page that just seemed to call to you. You quickly got changed and dived under the covers. You flipped to the first page but stopped. Should you bring this back after you're done? This was only for research and a good laugh, but it felt wrong to make fun of someone else’s religions. Even if it seemed odd to you.

You just had to know what these people were up to and this book seemed to have the answers. The questions just weren’t asked yet. No one in Hope County wanted to ask. They just wanted to follow blindly. They thought this Project brought them hope and faith, nothing like what their government could give them. When you thought about it, was there really a separation between church and state? The lines between these two were very blurry for most people. The Project was building onto something this county had a lot of. Distrust. They were taking advantage of people’s weaknesses.

But you weren’t swayed easily. Any religion involving John or Jacob Seed was a religion you didn’t want to be a part of, especially with a persuasive and charismatic leader like Joseph.

Maybe this book will help you after all. You had no other option other than reading or joining some crazy religious group.

[olwrathie]

After sitting on it for a few days, I figured it was time to share a small snippet of a story I've been working on. I shared a picrew of this OC in this post.

In all honesty, i've been quite anxious about sharing my writing, but I am really proud of this story. It is still a work in progress, and I would love to hear feedback from you guys. And if anyone is interested, perhaps I will share more in the future. Or even take requests and post more reader insert fics!

Word Count: 518

Warnings: Minor mentions of violence, hints of emotional and physical abuse, minor fc5 campaign spoiler (John's commerical).

"We are all sinners. You, me. Even the father knows deeply of sin." John's voice spoke over the t.v.

Sin was something Joseph Seed had an abundance of. And while not etched into his flesh, Joseph's wrath was deadly. Few people had seen Joseph’s wrath. The self proclaimed Father of the Eden's Gate cult had plenty of patience. His patience was the reason he was able to maintain such a calm demeanor in front of his flock. But once his patience wears thin, there is hell to pay.

Unfortunately for Faith, Joseph's patience with her was running low. Time and time again, the girl who God claimed was his, made stupid, selfish mistakes. She was supposed to be his. Her relationship with John already made it difficult, and Joseph’s wrath and envy was becoming difficult to ignore the more he saw them together. John was right, Joseph's knowledge of sin ran deep. And now that there was someone else trying to steal his beloved, his Faith, away from him, his knowledge continued to expand.

After the stunt with the officers at the church, Joseph was furious. His wrath got the best of him as he threw the girl onto a chair. The man who preached his flock on how to live a life without sin, the one who frequently scolded his youngest brother for indulging in his sin was doing exactly the opposite of what he said. 'Do as I say, not as I do,' was the phrase that ran in the back of Joseph’s mind. However, at this moment he couldn’t think about anything other than making her atone, making her pay the price for indulging her greed. How dare she try and leave the project, leave him.

A whimper passed her lips as she landed on the metal chair, which pulled the Father from his thoughts. They had been in this position before. Two other times to be exact. His Faith had indulged in a behavior he warned her about, and Joseph would save her. Make her atone so he could cleanse her, all so she and him could walk hand-in-hand through the gates of Eden. And that is exactly what he was going to do now. Joseph would do this over and over again, indulge in his own sin to make sure his beloved was cleansed of hers.

Faith knew what was coming, even before Joseph pulled the tattoo gun from John's toolbox. Trying to leave with the officers was a bad idea, she knew it from the very beginning. It was too easy, and she should've known escaping Joseph's clutches wouldn't be. In fact, she did know this. Joseph always got what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to lose people, especially if it meant keeping his Faith close to him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Faith," Joseph whispered as he prepped the gun, "You let your selfish wants blind you. You allowed it to alter your judgment and put you on the wrong path. Fortunately, I'm here to guide you back onto the righteous path. But first, you must pay for your sin."

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

Far Cry 5 Week, Day 2: The Project at Eden’s Gate - Chosen!Reader

WARNING: Implied past child abuse.

When Jacob ordered the sinners into a cage instead of sending them to John for atonement, you didn’t question his reasoning; you did as you were told. 

The man tried to fight you off at first, calling for his wife to make a run for it. He was met with the butt of your gun to the nose, and she was tackled by your judges before she could take two steps. They didn’t try anything else, and you locked the gate behind them.

You ignored their begging and quiet sobs, about to return to Jacob for more orders. He and Deputy Pratt met you at the cages first, and told you to bring him a stool. He promptly took it from you and placed himself in front of the cage.

“Stay,” he said, stopping you from leaving before turning to the couple. “You oughta thank me, you know. I usually only put one person in a cage. Isn’t that right, Soldier?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now normally, you’d go to my brother before coming here, but there’s just something about you that’s not adding up.”

“Please,” the woman said. “Don’t do this, we haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t?” Jacob raised a brow, making the woman shrink away from him. He then turned to the man. “What about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Please, I can stay, just let her go.”

Jacob pretended to consider his offer. “Tell you what; you answer some questions, honestly, and I’ll let you both go.”

Your head tilted in curiosity. 

“Anything!”

“Alright. How long you been married?” Jacob almost smiled at the way the two spoke over the other. “How’d you meet?” Again, they both answered. “Do you have any children?”

There was a pause.

“N-no,” the man replied.

“No? Hm.” Jacob stood to his full height and rubbed his beard. “Pretty big house you have for a family with no children. Are you sure you don’t have any?”

“No children.”

“Peaches!” Jacob barked, startling the deputy. He rushed forward, handing him a clipboard with information on all the families left in the region. “It says here you’re a household of three. Who’s the third?”

The couple blanched, and the man placed a protective arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“We used to have one,” the man whispered.

“One what?”

“A child.”

“But not anymore?”

“That’s what ‘used to’ means,” the woman snapped, glaring at Jacob.

Your judges lunged forward, snapping their jaws as their muzzles tried to squeeze through the bars. Jacob waited until you reined them in to continue.

“Do that again, and I’m locking them in there with you. Now, what happened to the kid?” When neither answered, he inched closer to them, dropping his voice. “You don’t know do you? What kind of parent doesn’t know where their own kid is?”

“We had a lot of problems at home,” the woman said.

“And?”

Her husband took over. “They started acting out. Got in with the wrong crowd, left school, probably started doing drugs…”

“So you kicked ‘em out,” Jacob finished, and they nodded. “Instead of being a parent and helping them get to the bottom of what was wrong, you turned your back on your child, your blood, leaving them to fend for themselves.” 

“We’re sorry,” the man whispered,head hung in shame, knowing it was what Jacob wanted to hear.

“Not yet,” Jacob chuckled dryly. “Soldier, aren’t you getting hot under that mask?”

It’d been years since you hesitated when Jacob gave an order, and as if he anticipated it, he turned toward you with an expectant look. You took your mask off, letting your parents see you for the first time since they threw you out onto the street.

Your mother began to cry, and your father stared at you, horrified with what you’d become; what they’d driven you to. Jacob said they’d turned their back on their blood, and he knew it meant their blood would too turn their back on them. He held your mother close and began to sob as he understood.

They were going to die in that cage.

Satisfied, Jacob stood and handed the stool to the deputy, and walked toward the front doors. You followed him inside, having a question of your own.

“Did I pass?” you asked once you were alone.

Jacob stopped and turned, and you supposed he was studying you for any sign of displeasure at what he’d done. You wouldn’t admit it, but it would sting if you found he doubted your devotion after all this time.

“Pass?”

“That was some kind of test, wasn’t it?”

His hardened stare softened, and he placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not a test. Closure.”

Your body visibly relaxed, and you smiled at the man who became your family after yours cast you aside. “Thank you, Jacob.”

He nodded, and continued on toward his office, his pet deputy trailing behind him.

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