Description: Bunker ending where a traumatised deputy is easily manipulated by Joseph, not only to become his judge but rather, something more... personal.
Relationship: Joseph Seed x FemDep!Reader
Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, Cults, Bunker Ending (Far Cry), Psychological Horror, Survivor Guilt, Grief/Mourning
Link to ao3
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The panic was yet to die down, she said nothing but Joseph could see it in her eyes how disturbed she was by the situation she had found herself in. Dutch’s rotting corpse needed to be discreetly dealt with whilst not incurring any radiation damage from the blast. Joseph looked as disturbed as the deputy did, his prophecy had come true, a sweeping sense of vindication was halted by the reminder that he alone survived with her. How strangely cruel God’s plan was for them both.
Whilst Joseph was calm and pragmatic about their situation, the deputy thought of nothing. She stared at the floor for a long time, forgetting to blink until a tear ran down her cheek, only lightly pulling her out of the trance she’d put herself in just to blink and once again be lulled back into her absent thoughts. The two of them sat in silence, Joseph stared at her whilst he thought of everything that needed to be done, his face twitching as his thoughts were interrupted with occasional reminders that his family was dead. Everyone was dead.
Joseph was the first to leave, quietly dragging the body away which she dared not watch. It was somewhat laborious for Joseph which made it all the more frightening for her, the longer the procession, the longer she had to stay in her trance save her brain would shut down completely from shock. Dutch was not a heavy man but he was not so light either and his clothes russelled against the concrete flooring until all that became of him was a muffled noise beyond the room. She did not know how long Joseph was gone, only that after a time, he returned. Time felt like nothing, so tangible was the concept that she felt as if reality were a dream and the rules of dream could take place. Dreams were where she would seek refuge, she hoped to dream so heavily that it would convince her the dream was real. But she had never been so awake in all her life and being held in an awkward sitting position meant sleep eluded her. Especially with Joseph in the room again, he was looking at her, she could see it in her peripheral vision as she had not moved her eyes from where they had rested since Joseph stood from his chair to dispose of Dutch.
Joseph was first to breach her comfortable silence, “come,” he saw the shock in her eyes and how she had calmed her breath now. He was comfortable enough to remove her handcuffs and watched as her wrists flopped to the ground. There was nothing behind her eyes, so hauntingly enchanting to him the eyes of a killer, so devoid of humanity, more machine than woman. And so when he held his hand out to her, she did not take it, she did not move as if she’d forgotten how to do so. Joseph took her hand in his and it stirred a reaction in her, so minute he would have missed it were he not studying her face. The slightest twitch of her eyebrows, a quick expression of disgust that flattened into a neutral expression. Her head unnaturally turned towards him and he recognised the look of fear. She beheld him with an almost lovecraftian fear, so humble yet so grand was he, a prophet sent by God or a madman willing to destroy everything to be proven right. She could not decide for still she could not think beyond reactions to what was presently happening. The deputy lived now only in the present, unable to look introspectively at anything beyond five seconds prior to now.
The deputy stood now, with the guidance of Joseph, as he escorted her into what would become their dining room. “There is little but enough to sustain ourselves for seven years if we ration properly, fortunately the water filtration works just fine so we can shower and drink plenty,” he said with his soft southern drawl. Seven years. She would have seven years alone with the father, she wouldn’t be the same person she was now and it frightened her, the possibilities of what she may become. Joseph now noticed how the deputy could only function in the present, unable to think of the past or look into the future. “Rest now,” he told her, knowing that now more than ever, she needed his guidance. She was at least able to stand up on her own and return to the bedroom where she had originally been bound. In a somewhat robotic fashion, she removed her shoes and got into bed. Whilst she wanted to dream and to be convinced of another reality, she did not want to try to sleep, the more she was allowed to think, the more her brain seemed to melt. Joseph could hear her now laboured breathing as he walked back into the room. He was like her haunting rather than the guardian he no doubt saw himself as she thought. He sat at the edge of the bed, stroking her arm, only barred by the layers of bed covers between them. “When we’re in our garden, we’ll grow plenty of flowers, start a new flock, a peaceful people, strong people,” he mused, his head raised and eyes shut as he imagined his idyllic paradise. A sigh left his lips as he smiled at the thought, she supposed he tried to soothe her, he stopped rubbing her arm and rested his forearms on his knees. “What flowers would you like us to grow?” He aired softly, turning his head back to her, prying at her, digging out the humanity so long hidden in her body.
“I don’t see flowers,” she said flatly. She saw only death, bodies upon bodies, some righteous in death and others humanly cowardly. Death greeted everyone despite their feelings about it. She had been sending bodies to death, so long a courier that never met her recipient yet now wished to be taken into their loving embrace. It was her punishment to live. To live with the knowledge that her hands were stained red, so deep was the stain that not even the removal of her skin could clear the mark present only to her gaze. “There are no gardens left for flowers to grow Father, oh God,” she said, her words strangely strung, poetically describing the images of her mind that fluctuated between nothingness and reminders of why she could only function under nothingness. But Joseph was also pleased she so readily called him Father. The deputy did not speak or behave like herself, the stress bringing on a delirium in her that encouraged Joseph to stay and continue. She pulled her hands from under the covers to show him her bloody hands but he only saw her palms and the look of beginning madness in her eye.
“I wish you saw the peace of the future that will come but maybe what’s best right now is if you get some rest,” he said softly, taking her clean hands and hoping this feverish rambling from the once near mute deputy would cease and that she would find serenity in his promises and wisdom. The deputy got under the covers again and she was quietened by Joseph, he read from the bible so that she did not think whilst she tried to sleep. Joseph listened to her laboured breathing, could see her grind her teeth and furrow her brow, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead and when sleep finally met her, she was corpse-like in appearance.
Joseph delicately closed his bible, placed it on the table behind and looked at her with a wild look in his eye, his child, his family killer and most hated. He loved her dearly and it cost him everything. His expression relaxed as his thoughts drifted to what he lost, not thinking of their killer though she was within his grasp. His brothers, his sister, so perfect, they were at rest, this was his only comfort, knowing they did not suffer through the years leading up to New Eden. The ache in his chest led to a tightening in his throat as he felt his saliva thicken and his eyes burn with all that was lost. God had always pushed him to the most extreme of tests, this was his final one, accept her, love her, forgive her and then, only then can there be heaven on earth. But what is heaven when you’re in Hell? It all seemed to mean so little in this moment as he looked at her again, trapped in a lonely hell not quite ready to accept the fact he would never see his family again. All the things he had planned for them were gone, it was not the loss of the hope of seeing them in New Eden but the confrontation that he would never know the feel of their hands in his, that he would with time forget what it felt like to hug them that frightened him most. A wave of fear rushed over him as he knew one day he would forget their voice. There was nothing left that had recorded it, all gone with God’s fury. The only tangible proof of their existence was a portrait on a pinboard that existed solely to aid in their killer's pursuit. The world would forget them, the only people alive with any memory of them resided in this very room. His family only existed in their memory now, among his many missions Joseph made note to write down more of his family so that they were not entirely forgotten with time like their voices would be. And whilst he thought of his, his eyes focussed on the restless deputy and all the emotions she stirred in him, most were unpleasant, some exceeded to the point of sin. He knew he could love her, after all that she’d done, he knew deep inside, it could be honestly forgiven, God never asked the impossible from him.
God had told him to open his heart to her and who was he but the Lord’s servant. So he raised a hand to her as her body thrashed suddenly in the midst of a violent dream whilst the tides of guilt and sin sunk deep into her bones, his holy hand gently touched her cheek and she stilled. Her breath still laboured and her face was still tight but her twitching stilled as The Father began to caress her cheek. She was cold to the touch and moist from sweat, God gave her sickness a physical manifestation. His thumb brushed back and forth, waiting for her face to soften, so beautiful when she submitted to him. Her laboured breaths became more like groans, those groans turned to cries and her face was splotchy with splashes red on her skin. The deputy abruptly woke and could only cry, it was beautiful, Joseph was pleased her pride had not consumed her to guiltlessness. It gave him hope. He stilled his caress and held her head as she turned her wet cheeks to his palms. “I’m sorry, for all of it, I’m so sorry, can you ever forgive me,” she whimpered against his skin. Joseph came closer to her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
“Yes,” he whispered with a raspiness to his voice and she cried more, it was not enough to free her of guilt but it was an overwhelming word. He quietly lulled her with shushes and caress to her cheeks. When she finally stilled, he moved to the bed, guiding her head to rest on his lap and she reached for him. As Joseph settled himself on the bed, she clung to him, arms outstretched to his waist as she felt it grossly improper and offensive to raise her gaze to him. The deputy rested her head on his thigh and Joseph gently moved her hair out the way so he could see her pretty face as she damped his clothes with the remainder of her sobs until again her energy faded to the point where she couldn’t cry any longer. Once again, exhaustion overcame her and he watched her sleep, quietly reciting an apt verse as he noticed the Lord’s words were of small comfort to her but a comfort nonetheless.
Laying in bed with John Seed :))) tracing over his tattoos and just staring at him so lovingly. Making sure he knows ur there and u adore him completely, just as he adores you
Contains: Inexplicable second chances, The Seed Family, canon divergence, mild threats, gossip, flirting??
~4.5k - MDNI
Rook hauled herself over the cliff’s edge and turned to sit there, looking out over the valley, breathing hard, muscles burning with the exertion of a good climb. She unhooked the grapple from the bar and coiled the rope up absently as she took in the view, tucking it into the outer pocket of her backpack, same place as she used to when she was in the resistance. Her heart panged uncomfortably at the reminder, that the peace gained had come at the cost of all her friendships. She was no stranger to the mountains and the lakes, familiar with the rivers and valleys, the forests and fields, but to the people she’d come to love and respect, she was pretty much nobody. Just the new deputy.
She found herself trying to get back that feeling more and more. Of belonging somewhere, of being needed and liked, but it wasn’t easy to recapture. Folks tended to be wary of newcomers, especially after the cult came around, and no amount of friendly chit-chat or offered help was going to put things back the way they were.
She unscrewed the top of her canteen with a sigh, swallowing loneliness along with the water, returning to the moment. No sense living in the past, or the future, or whatever it all was. The now was more important.
The valley was beautiful from up here. It was beautiful from every angle she looked, but there was something particularly breathtaking about the breadth of it laid out like a map before her. If she turned just enough that she could ignore the distant statue of Joseph, it was even better. The sweep of forest, the glimmer of water, the flash of cars when the light caught them just right as they drove down the roads that webbed across the county like veins. The mist hadn't entirely burned off the deep pockets of shadow to the north and west, but the sun was getting high enough now that they were beginning to rise up like steam, blowing away in the wind.
Despite the grief of a life never lived, the morning was perfect.
Or would be, if it weren't for one persistent problem.
She caught the flash of Jacob's rifle scope again. Behind the tree line, a good hundred meters below.
He'd been dogging her all morning, from when she left home around dawn. She could feel the weight of his attention, the prickle of danger on the back of her neck. Initially she'd thought she'd had a big cat on her trail, until she spotted the tiny flash of light, the tell-tale sign of a scope.
At least some things hadn’t changed.
She stood up and moved back into the treeline, where he wouldn't be able to see where she went, careful to avoid leaving a trail, and climbed up a sturdy looking pine, just far enough to tuck herself out of sight, careful not to snap any branches on the way.
It wasn't long before he appeared at the edge of the cliff she'd climbed up, scouting for her, rifle strapped across his back. She could hear the frustrated huff of air he expelled when he realized he'd lost her trail, and once he started into the trees looking to pick it up again, she carefully dropped down, silent as a spider, and padded after him, itching to slide her own gun into her hands. There wasn’t much point in it. If they were close enough to talk, they would be close enough that Jacob would be able to close the remaining distance and push the barrel aside before she could click off the safety and chamber a bullet.
He stopped after she'd been trailing him for a few dozen meters, and turned, the slight twitch of his eyebrows the only outward sign of his surprise.
"Hello, Jacob," Rook said. "Why are you following me?"
"Looks like you're following me," he pointed out.
"It does look that way. But we both know that looks can be deceiving. Did you follow me out here just to chat?”
"Maybe I just appreciate the sight of a woman who can climb a sheer cliff like it’s nothing.”
Rook snorted. "Sure. What do you actually want?"
"Came to collect you. It’s Joseph that wants to talk."
"Joseph can go to hell."
"Don't be difficult."
"Fuck you."
He shook his head, clicking his tongue like he was oh so disappointed in her. "Not very polite, honey. It's gonna be quick. Would be easier if you just accepted it."
"Would be easiest if you just left me alone."
"You don't get it. But you'll see."
Rook wished she had taken the opportunity to go back down the mountain rather than confront him. She should have known it would be nothing good, should have remembered that even without the reaping, they'd take what they wanted, regardless of law or decency. The cult would only tolerate being told no for so long. Just like before, they'd take her and do whatever they wanted to her, and without the chaos of the reaping, no one was likely to shoot them over it either.
Inevitable as it was, Rook wasn't going to give him anything for free. The moment Jacob took a step toward her she bolted, running east from their position. There was a road that way, and a place she could grapple down the cliff quickly. She'd be exposed, but she just had to be faster than him for the initial sprint-- There was only so fast a person could safely go down a cliff, especially if he intended to carry her off while she struggled.
She could hear him swearing as he crashed after her, but she had the advantage here, her smaller size allowing her to move through the forest unimpeded while he crashed into branches, a bear chasing a rabbit through thick brush.
She broke out onto the road and tilted into a real sprint, crossing open space while Jacob was still fighting the trees.
There were a lot of sections of forest where there was no understory to speak of. He could have caught her easily if he'd had open ground in the initial dash, but she'd gotten lucky.
Lucky too, that she had memories of trekking over every inch of the county. He wouldn't have a home turf advantage, even if he thought he might.
A truck screeched around the bend ahead, spitting up gravel as it turned and stopped, ready to head back the other way.
"Rook!" Eli shouted through the window. "Get in!"
Rather than struggle with the gear strapped to her back and waste time, she vaulted into the bed, holding tight to the side as Eli sped off again. Thank god he'd happened to be watching his trail cameras at the right moment.
Jacob burst out of the trees behind, dishevelled and wild-eyed, and watched them speed off down the mountain.
He was going to be pissed.
Eli drove straight back to Falls End and parked behind the bar, next to Rook's own truck, and rounded the back, leaning against the side. "You alright?" he asked.
Rook nodded. "Thanks to you. Your timing could not have been better."
"I've got trail cameras set up all over, been thinkin' we were headed for war with the cult before long. I was doing munition inventory in the Den, noticed Jacob trailing you, and thought to myself, that can't be any good." Eli dropped the truck gate to make it easier for her to climb out, and offered her a hand.
"You've got good instincts." Rook unfolded her jellied legs and dropped to the edge of the gate. "Christ alive. I should never have confronted him out in the middle of nowhere like that. Or maybe I should have shot him."
"Well, I can't say I would have objected to helpin' you hide a body, 'specially that one, but…"
"Yeah. That could open up a can of worms we're not ready to deal with." Rook slid off the truck gate and onto the ground. "Guess that's it for solo hikin'. Maybe Miss Mabel'll let me borrow her big kitty next time."
"You know what he wants from you?"
"They want me to talk to Joseph. They'll drag me in eventually, but I'm gonna make 'em work for it. I'd just go, but I don't know if it's the kind of conversation I'll be walkin' away from or not."
"Think they'd be that bold? Disappearin’ a deputy ain't subtle."
"Well, they'd make it hard to prove. And Jacob did just try to snatch me up off the mountain, so they might be that bold."
He rubbed his hand over his face. "We've gotta do something."
"I've got some ideas. That drug they make is what keeps their followers happy and pliable. If we can slow or halt production maybe… I gotta think on it. Don't think it's a Whitetail job though. Might be a Sharky Bowshaw and Drubman Jr. kind of job.”
"You sure about that? Those two are dumber than a sack of hammers.”
“Maybe, but the two of them together are a wrecking ball. Just gotta know how to use ‘em.” She shrugged lightly, trying not to get offended on behalf of friends that didn’t even know she existed anymore. Sharky, at least, was a lot smarter than he looked or acted, but it wasn’t like most people knew that. He played dumb because no one expected more from him anyway. “Like I said, I’m still working it out.”
“Well, you let me know if you need a hand. Never thought I'd run into anyone as ornery and paranoid as me."
"Is it paranoia if we're right?" Rook laughed and bumped her hip against the tailgate, arms crossed. "Thanks again, Eli. Would've been hard to shake him if you hadn't shown up."
"I get the feeling you would've managed it. Don't think Jacob's on your level."
Rook rolled her eyes, but couldn't keep herself from smiling. "You already rescued me, you don't need to flatter me too."
"Might want to, though." The look he sent her way was curious, testing the waters to see if she might be open to him flirting more overtly.
Her smile died. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to shake the feeling of guilt for what she'd done in that other life. The moment drawn out, Eli falling, Jacob's praise clear despite the ringing in her ears, despite the music. The sinking, awful regret that seized her the moment her finger pulled the trigger. She should have resisted more. Should've died, like a decent person would have.
"I'd better get inside. I work tonight, so if I get to sleep in the next half hour I'll be up in time to eat real food and annoy Pastor Jerome with my piano practice. Thought I'd have to choose." She laughed, the sound falsely bright to cover the unwarranted grief and regret.
He was alive. She didn’t have to feel that way anymore.
"Why do I get the feeling you'd choose the music?" He’d backed up a step when she’d stopped smiling, hiding his confusion at the sudden change in her demeanour.
"You're beginnin' to understand me, that's why. See you around, Palmer." Rook tapped his shoulder as she headed for the stairs up to her tiny apartment. She hung up her gun before dropping everything else on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes behind herself as she headed for the shower. She drank a chalky tasting protein shake while her hair half dried, wedged the single chair under the doorknob just in case, and rolled into bed, alarm set.
It was hard to tell if she was doing any of it right. If she was wasting her second chance. If there even was a right way to do things. The cult's methods were wrong, but they'd been right about the bomb.
And about her. She was struggling to find a peaceful path forward, because she was a soldier, and had been for her whole adult life. She knew how to put down a problem with a bullet. Everything underneath that was distant, rusty from disuse and the years between her childhood in the mountains and now. After everything she'd done, even if she hadn't really done it, the thought of more violence made her stomach churn. There had to be a way to keep the peace. Somehow she'd find it, no matter what she had to personally sacrifice to get there.
Her alarm went off too soon, but she rolled out of bed and got dressed, tucking her uniform shirt into her backpack to put on right before work, and went downstairs to get something to eat. Mary was behind the bar today, along with the older fellow that cooked Mondays and Tuesdays so Casey could have a couple days off. Rook wasn’t sure that Mary May ever took a whole day off, but there was no way that anyone would be able to convince her to do anything else. The bar was just about all she had, with her parents gone and brother missing.
“Hey, Mary May,” Rook greeted her. Things were quiet, just the same weathered faces that were there just about every day that Rook stepped inside.
“Hey, Rookie,” Mary May greeted her. “How’s things?”
“Oh, you know. Same old. Gettin’ to be routine.”
“Yeah, you’re settling in now? Still looking for a place, or plannin’ to stay here for the foreseeable?”
“I’m lookin’, but I don’t think my chances are good. Don’t have the same buyin’ power as the Seeds, so unless someone real stubborn moves out and won’t sell to ‘em, I’m pretty much outta luck. I don’t mind. Do miss havin’ a kitchen though. Probably not the best idea for me to eat a burger every day of the week.”
“We have other things on the menu,” Mary May pointed out.
“I know. It’s just the best calories per dollar. I don’t always eat more’n one proper meal a day. I should probably get a hot plate, actually. Next time I run into town I’ll look for one.” Rook shrugged. “Sorry, I’m just thinkin’ out loud. Long night, long mornin’.”
Mary May stuck the ticket with Rook’s usual order through the window to the kitchen. “That’s right! You got some good gossip for me?”
“Hm? No. Just worked last night, and I was up in the mountains this mornin’. Went for a climb.”
“Oh, come on, it’s a real small town, Rook. Everyone saw you and Eli gettin’ kinda cozy Saturday night, and Trish said she saw Eli’s truck out back this mornin’.” She leaned against the bar. “If you two get together, everyone’s gonna know within the week anyway, so you might as well let me be the first with the gossip.”
“What? No, no, it’s not like that. Saturday he was askin’ if I wanted to join the Whitetails, and then I sat and had a beer with the group of ‘em. He felt bad for clockin’ me by accident when I was tryin’ to keep him and Jacob Seed from murderin’ each other in the street, that’s all.”
“Uh huh. And what was he doin’ here today?”
“He spotted me when he was drivin’ past, when I was comin’ down the mountain. Realized I was a bit more tired than I thought I’d be, and didn’t want to risk climbin’ down, so I was out by the road. He offered me a ride.”
Better to leave the part about Jacob out of it. She didn’t want to alarm anyone just yet.
Mary May hummed, unconvinced. “And if he did ask you out? Would you say no?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really date.”
“Neither does he. His ex was his high school sweetheart, and I don’t think he’s seen anyone since she left. He’s gotten a little too into preparing for the end of days, keeping himself busy. Be healthy for him to get back out there,” Mary said, giving Rook a knowing look. “He’s a good one.”
“Well, I’m not thinkin’ that far ahead, and I doubt he is either. We’re just gettin’ to be friends, right now. Seems we see eye to eye on a few things.”
“You are allowed to date, you know. Whitehorse didn’t make you take a vow of celibacy or anything.”
“Yeah, I know. I just haven’t really been in a serious relationship, and the older I get, the more that becomes a stumblin’ block, you know? I mean, the man had a kid, and I haven’t even had a roommate since I left the army. Feels like we’d be at different places in life. And besides that, I’m still settlin’ in.”
“Well, it’s disappointing, gossip wise, but if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.” Mary turned to grab Rook’s plate when the little bell rang, and set it in front of her. “I’d better make the rounds, let you eat.”
She headed from the church to the sherriff's department at 6:30 and made a pot of coffee before she clocked in, like usual.
"Hey Rookie," Whitehorse greeted her, poking his head into the break room. "Everett called in tonight, so you're flyin' solo. You want me to stick around a while?"
"Nah, that's alright. Is Nancy in to run dispatch? I didn't see her at her desk."
"She said she can come in 10-2, so long as she can come in late Wednesday. Which I'll worry about later. Pratt's down a couple hours this week, I'll see if he wants to stay till Nancy gets here. He and Hudson should be pullin' in now."
"I'm off Wednesday. I have to run to town in the morning, but I can come in and man the phones for, what, 2 till 6?"
"You're a life-saver, Rookie."
"No problem sir. Happy to help. Just do us all a favour and stop scheduling Everett on nights. He hates it and he makes it everyone else's problem."
"Not fair to always put you on nights either."
"I like nights. You don't have to worry about me complaining, Sherriff. What I like best of all is a consistent shift, but it's not like I have much else on. Plus working nights means weekend mornings I can run drills with the Whitetails, and weekday mornings I can get on the mountains until the weather turns." Rook walked to the lockers to put her bag away and shrug her uniform shirt over her tank top. "Put me wherever I'm useful, sir."
"Fresh coffee fifteen minutes before seven? Must be our favourite Rookie in tonight," Joey poked her head around the corner of the locker room. "Hey! Heard a rumour today."
"If it's the one about me and Eli, it's of no substance."
"See?" Staci said from a little down the hall. "I told you."
Joey sighed. "You did. I just thought that would be nice."
"For him, maybe," Staci scoffed.
Rook shuffled back out into the hall so she could get her coffee while Joey and Staci talked to Whitehorse, and then took over Nancy’s chair while she checked over notes from the weekend. Nothing of note had happened, aside from a couple teens caught trying to race their parent’s cars down the mountain and one of them hitting a deer and spinning out in a panic (unhurt, luckily, although the deer couldn’t say the same), and a small fire down at the old rusted old barge on the Henbane where either some bored teens or Sharky Boshaw had been hanging out. Hard to say which, but considering that it was a small fire, Rook was willing to bet it was the teens. Then again, there wasn’t much that was going to burn on a boat that was half rust and half mildew.
A few other minor incidents, but nothing of concern. All quiet on the Peggie front, at least. That was something.
Hopefully they were distracted. If she could keep out of their hands, they might stay distracted for a while.
Joseph wouldn’t come to her, anyway. One of the others would bring her to him. If he walked into the Sherriff’s office, without his people to stop things, it would be easy to slap cuffs on him and ship him out before he could signal his people. The brothers wouldn’t trigger the reaping without him— Only Joseph would be able to tell them, and they’d risk never getting him back if they tried without him.
And, well, if God let the non-believers take him, it eroded his status as a chosen savior.
“What’s on your mind?” Staci asked, dropping his weight on the back of her chair and tilting it backwards. “You’re quiet. Barely said a word when Whitehorse and Hudson left.”
“Just thinking about the Peggies.”
“You did the right thing, if that’s what you’re wondering. We’ve all talked it over, and I’m pretty sure you saved our lives.”
“I’m just worried. I don’t think it’s really over.”
“They’ve been here for years, Rook. They’re a little extreme, but that was the first time I was worried about them trying something. So long as Burke doesn’t get his back up, or gets a lot of back up, I think we’ll be alright.”
“I hope you’re right. They just… Worry me.”
“So you said.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. I should do a patrol in a minute.”
“There’s no rush. Hudson and I just finished a circuit of the county half an hour ago. Got any paperwork to do?”
“Not currently.”
“Then you’re probably fine just to sit a minute. Been a few days since we worked together. Anything new going on?”
Rook shook her head, looking up at him from the reclined chair. “Nah. Just got a drink with a couple of the Whitetails Saturday, Sunday I played hymns for Pastor Jerome’s sparse congregation and ran down past Rye & Son Aviation and back. This morning I hiked in the park, climbed near Ozhigwan Falls.”
“I guess that’s where that rumour about you and Eli Palmer started. Folks probably saw him hitting on you at the bar, yeah?”
“He wasn’t hitting on me. Are we not allowed to be friends?” He wasn’t, really. A flirtatious smile or two didn’t mean anything, and she wasn’t going to let it mean anything anyway. She was dangerous to Eli, more than anyone else in the county. Joining the Whitetails was one thing, but a relationship with him? That was too close for comfort.
“You don’t even notice when people flirt, do you?”
“No,” she lied.
“Unbelievable.”
She moved back to her own desk, for a bit, and then wandered around tidying up while Staci hovered in the doorway of every room she moved to, making light conversation. He was clearly bored, and too tired to do anything particularly useful with himself. She couldn’t blame him, after a long day, but she also wasn’t in a talkative mood.
It was so much easier when she hadn’t had to say much of anything. In her other memory, people asked her for help, and she’d agree to, and that was the long and short of it. She could grind herself down into the shape of a knife, and not worry about being much of a person at all. Knowing who she was to others made it simple. Things felt complicated now.
They finally got a call, and Rook had never been so happy to be sent out to Mabel’s. Teens were harassing Peaches lately, and that was a disaster just waiting to happen. “Tell her I’ll be there in ten,” she said to Staci, grabbing the keys off the hook in the locker room and striding out without another word.
“You alright, Rook?” he asked over the radio a few minutes later.
“Yeah. Just worried that Peaches is gonna eat some kid if I don’t get there quick.”
Rook pulled into Mable's driveway a few minutes later and hopped out of the truck.
"Oh, shit, someone's here," a voice hissed, and a number of crunching footsteps signalled that the teens were running for it.
Rook dropped down and headed into the treeline, snagging two of the teens by the collar and dragging them out into the light. She whistled sharply. "Come on out. Your friends are definitely gonna name you, so you might as well come here and talk to me."
The third teen cursed and stepped out of the trees looking guilty and nervous. "We weren't--"
"Doin’ anything?" Rook asked mildly, dragging the two she had a grip on back toward the cougar cage. Peaches was pacing back and forth, her thick tail lashing. "Listen up, kids. This is a wild fuckin' animal. She might have a good relationship with Miss Mabel, but she's not some domesticated kitty cat. If you piss her off enough, she could kill you, and then I'd have to come out here and shoot her, and quite frankly, I don't want to do that. So here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna go home, and in the next couple days all three of you are gonna call up the FANG centre and volunteer some time. You do that by the end of the week, and I won't talk to your parents. Can't promise Miss Mabel won't, but that's the only deal I've got for you, aside from haulin' you in."
"That's not fair," one of them complained. "We were just--"
"Shut up, Lo. I don't want my dad findin' out I'm sneakin' out at night. It's more than fair."
Rook let go of the two collars she had in hand. "Glad we've got an understandin'. Brittany Forrest, Kevin Spatz, Lorenzo Lombardi." She pointed to each of them as she said their name. "Yeah, that's right. Now go on."
The teens scrambled off, and Miss Mabel came out of her house, scowling. "You're not gonna arrest those hooligans?"
"No ma'am. I'm makin' 'em volunteer down at the FANG center. Figure if they get labeled as bad kids this early, they're gonna be trouble all their lives, and we don't need that. They're gonna learn a healthy respect for wildlife, and it'll give em somethin' to do that ain't causin' trouble. Half the time kids do shit like this because they're bored. Pretty near everything kids might get into that ain’t trouble’s been bought and boarded up by the Seeds."
Mabel hummed. "You're smarter than you look, Deputy."
"Ain't sayin' much though, is it?" Rook inclined her head toward Peaches' enclosure. "Your girl there's looking bored and restless too, Mabel. She gettin' enough exercise?"
Mabel huffed, crossing her arms. “You offering to walk her?” she asked, as if it were an absurd notion.
“Sure. I’m all over the mountains a few times a week. Introduce us, figure Peaches has to decide if she’ll follow me anywhere herself. Cats don’t much care to be bossed around, do they?”
“Well, at least you know a thing or two. Come on then, Deputy. But it’s not my problem if she bites you.”
Mentions of death, forced drug use (its bliss), religious zealots, cult activities, hallucinations, brainwashing, you've been warned.
Your heart pounded as you ran through the woods of Hope County. You were headed northbound.
The sunrise caught the woods, casting an orange hue through the trees. You were somewhere between the Henbane River region and the Whitetail Mountains.
You had gotten too close to the river earlier. Who knows how much bliss had been spilled into it this week. Next thing you knew, you were running from sounds and seeing things that weren't there. You didn't want to take your chances, so you ran through the woods, hoping it would eventually stop.
Suddenly, you heard a scream. It caused you to trip over a rock. You were quick to cover your ears as you curled up behind a tree. Covering your ears didn't help. You could only hope it was a hallucination. The world felt like it was spinning.
Were you dying?
Your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire, and paranoia was kicking in. What about this was bliss?
That's when you felt something or someone grabbed you. You were quick to stand up and move. You turned to see if anyone was there, but nothing was.
That's when you heard a giggle, a laugh. A girlish one, Faith. "Get away from me you bitch!" You screamed, your voice echoing through the forest.
Her laugh came through again, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Can't you feel it, Deputy? The bliss? Isn't it wonderful?" Faith's voice called out, its usual dream like tone trying its hardest to get under your skin.
You could hear your heart in your ears. Every hair stood on edge. Was she real?
"You still have a chance; The Father will save us. If you just accept him into your life you can atone." She called. You caught a glimpse of her. She was circling you like a fowl vulture searching for a carcass to feast on.
But when one vulture circles, more follow.
You could hear other voices. They were mixed. It sounded like a few different people all speaking at once. They were men's voices. One was deep yet soft and understanding, another gruff with a baritone quality to it that commanded attention, the last voice held a more tenor quality, laced with manipulation and a false understanding.
You saw Faith again peak out from behind a tree. You ran again, through the forest. You had to get away.
Your heart raced in your chest. Its hard thuds echoed in your ears. Your lungs burned from each labored breath you forced yourself to take. Terror and fear pumped through your veins. You couldn't separate reality from your hallucinations. They seemed to be bleeding together.
Next, thing you knew you had reached the riverbank, the rocks rolling under your feet, causing you to stumble a bit.
You heard the voices grow louder. The rushing of the river didn't seem to drown it out.
"Go away!!" You screamed, you could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate.
"Poor Deputy, reality and bliss don't seem to mine well, do they?" A voice called out from the side of you. It was Jacob. The tallest and eldest out of the Seed brothers, but honestly, he was just as demented as them all.
"You're not real!" You shouted at him. Attempting to reach for your pistol, but it wasn't there, it was gone.
"Oh Deputy, I'm real. Faith got you pretty bad, didn't she?" He asked. Stepping closer. His pale blue eyes stayed on you, their gaze held power and command.
You stumbled back, falling on the hard rocky bank of the river.
Jacob reached into his back pocket, no, not again. Please not again.
The music box.
"Only you..." When that soft tune began, from just the simple turn of the key on the music box, things got much worse.
Your head began to pound, and the world was spinning faster.
Jacob came closer, standing over you. Quietly humming the tune. Watching contently as you began to black out.
You didn't know how long you had been out for, but it was long enough to make you realize it was night.
You felt awful and sick. The bliss mixed with whatever brainwashing crap Jacob had been doing on you for the past month was really taking a toll. You weren't sure how many seizures you had within the past few weeks.
You had woken up on a wooden floor. It was cool to the touch. You had to blink a few times to get your vision clear.
You stared up at the ceiling. It was an open ceiling, with exposed beams and everything. You looked around a bit more. You were in a church. Your eyes darted to the altar, there on the wall, a stained-glass window, it was the edens gate cross.
Fuck, no. That could only mean one thing, you had been handed over and put into Joseph's custody.
You attempted to stand up, and your body felt heavy and unstable. Your legs wobbled under your weight and gave out. You grabbed ahold of the altar, trying to hold yourself up.
You ended up knocking something over. It was glass, with no shock it shattered when it hit the hard wood floors.
The door to the church opened, and there stood Joseph. He shut the door behind him and walked towards you.
"You shouldn't be up and moving." He said, his voice its usual soft and understanding tone. Joseph came and helped you, his arm going under your arms to hold you up. He was a charismatic man; it's why his followers worshipped him.
"My siblings have done quite a number on you, Deputy." He observed.
You didn't have the strength to even try to fight him. Your head pounded, and your body ached like there was no tomorrow.
"It's going to be alright. Let's get you some rest." Joseph said. Helping to towards the door of the church.
As you walked through Joseph's compound, many of the Peggie's' side glanced you.
You had brought death and destruction to Joseph's operation, and yet, their leader was still helping you.
None of them dared to challenge Joseph. He was their Father, their leader, the prophet from God.
Soon, you reached Joseph's private quarters. He helped you lay down into bed; he even tucked you in.
"Why must you fight me, Deputy?" He asked after a silent moment. "Your sin of wrath knows no bounds. I just wish to help you, as god intends."
"You're killing people." you murmured, your head pounded harder.
"Untrue," Joseph said. "I'm saving us all." He sat down on the side of the bed. "The collapse is coming. I will ensure that my flock survives Deputy."
You stared at him. You were in far too much pain to deny or fight with him.
"I'm showing you kindness not just because it's the right thing to do, but because it's not too late to atone Deputy. Your sinner friends are far gone, and I believe that you aren't." He spoke.
"You've killed many, awful and disgusting acts, yes. But perhaps you and I are two sides of the same coin." Joseph suggested, his hand gently running through your hair. "My flock kills sinners. We reap them in the name of God. The collapse will have no room for sinners."
His hand tightened slightly in your hair. "But you," he began. "You deputy kill because you do not understand; you are angry, your sin is wrath. But atonement is just around the corner for you, I truly believe you would make a good addition to my family. Give it a chance." He hummed
You stared up at him, not saying a word. The pain you were experiencing shockingly got worse. Perhaps you were experiencing some form of withdrawal from the bliss? You were shaking, you felt cold.
Joseph watched you, then pressed his wrist to your forehead. "You're burning up." he murmured.
Joseph adjusted your position on the bed, sitting you up a bit. He grabbed the glass of water off the nightstand, gently pressing it to your lips. "Take a drink." He wasn't asking, he was telling.
As much as you didn't want to, you had no other options. You carefully took a drink; your mouth was dryer than you thought originally.
"Take it slow. You'll throw up if you don't." Joseph said gently.
You listened; you weren't in a position to do anything but.
"I'll get you some medicine, as well as some food, once your stomach settles." He hummed as he set the glass of water back down. "For now, you need to rest." Joseph grabbed a wet cloth out of a nearby bowl of ice water. He rang it out first before pressing it to your forehead, attempting to lower your fever.
"Why are you helping me?" You asked after a silent moment.
"Because, in order to teach you that what we are doing, you must be shown kindness first." He answered. "I hope that in time, you'll learn that our ways are what you need Deputy. I hope you will learn that what we are doing is in everyone's best interest."
You began to drift off; there was definitely something in the water you were given. Whatever it was, made you feel even more fatigued than you already were.
You were woken up by Joseph; it was about noon the next day. He had brought in a bowl of soup, and a fresh glass of water.
"You haven't eaten in what, two days?" Joseph asked. "You'll need your strength."
He walked over and sat down, setting the glass of water down on the nightstand. "How are you feeling?" He asked.
You were definitely feeling better than yesterday, no awful headache. Maybe slightly feverish, but good lord you were hungry. "I could eat." You answered gently.
Joseph nodded. Taking the spoon out of the bowl. "It's chicken and rice. Its light enough to not upset your stomach." He hummed. He brought the spoon to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite.
You did what was expected of you and took the bite.
The soup was quite good; it was savory and comforting.
You still weren't sure what Joseph's motives were with helping you. It was hard to say.
But you weren't sure where this was going to lead you. Perhaps this whole ordeal was a misunderstanding?
this is my first time doing this here, but if anyone is interested I also write fic, I’m new here, but I’ve written some stuff for what little far cry 5 fandom remains :)
⬇️ a joseph seed x f!deputy bunker fic, 5.2K, rated E, no archive warnings apply
https://archiveofourown.org/works/87469461
⬇️ a john seed x f!deputy (ch.1) and m!deputy (ch.2) cleansing fic that takes place during the liberation of holland valley, 3.6K (each), rated E, no archive warnings apply
Series Summary: Five years ago, Junior Deputy Blue Murphy disappeared with Joseph Seed at the final standoff, only to be found a year later in Dutch's bunker. Now, five years later from that final standoff, Blue Murphy and Hope County have moved on with their lives. However, new sinister forces threaten Blue's life, and they will have to rely on the man who started this all to survive: Joseph Seed.
Warnings: Lots of Blue's survivor's guilt and references to canon deaths.
Words: 3,115 words.
Author's Note: Well, I did not expect to update this fic this year. (I didn't expect to update my other longfic either.) But I started replaying FC5 again, and I got struck with inspiration for this fic again. Anyway, this is mainly a Blue and Joseph chapter. Enjoy.
Next Saturday rolls around, a day so sunny that it puts all the other days that month to shame. Blue wishes they were spending the day outdoors, hiking or climbing, maybe with Boomer or their friends joining them. Instead, Blue is spending their day with Joseph Seed and two FBI agents. They sigh, hearing the sound of Special Agent Hawthorne's car pulling into the gravel driveway. Pulling on their dark green corduroy jacket lined on the inside with sheep's fleece, Blue prepares themself, taking a deep breath. They need to be focused when it comes to Joseph; they need to focus on getting him to talk.
"Be good, Boomer. Enjoy your day with the Ryes," Blue says, petting Boomer on the head. Nick promised he would take Boomer for the day, letting Boomer spend time with him and Carmina in the hangar. At least, Boomer wouldn't have to be miserable like Blue would be, stuck inside.
They step out of their cabin, locking the door behind them. Inside, they hear Boomer whine, almost like he knows Blue is making a terrible decision. Blue approaches the dark blue sedan, getting in on the front passenger side seat. "Mornin', Special Agent Hawthorne."
"Good Morning," Special Agent Hawthorne greets them, pulling out of the driveway as Blue puts on their seatbelt, "You don't have to call me Special Agent; You can call me Dylan if that would be easier."
READ THE REST ON AO3
Fic Tag list (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @tommyarashikage, @voidika, @strangefable, @carlosoliveiraa, @cloudofbutterflies92, @chyrstis, @inafieldofdaisies, @direwombat, @imogenkol, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @captastra, @cheshire-cat-talks
“Oh kitten don’t make me tell you twice” + Jacob x Diane 🙈
@carlosoliveiraa It took me forever to respond to your prompt and I'm sorry 😭 I had several ideas and my indecision blocked me. But… I hope you like this story 🤗
Taglit: @theelderhazelnut @la-grosse-patate 🤗 Thank you for your interest 💛
Tags: Vampire Jacob Seed x Female OC - 18+, minors dni, smut, masturbation, fellation, blood
On your knees
The sun reflected through the stained glass windows of the hallway and gently warmed Diane's skin as she walked along one of the corridors of St. Francis. The light projected the colored reflections of the glass pieces and formed elegant mosaics on the white stone slabs. Summer was now well established in the Whitetail and the mountains were adorned with green colors, making them look like immense jewels. The rocky spur on which the castle was built offered a breathtaking view of the natural beauty of the duchy.
The young woman would have liked to stop for a few moments to contemplate the vast forests which covered the sides of the mountains, the valleys that crisscrossed the region, and the farms that were being established at the foot of the castle, but it would have been wrong to keep Jacob waiting. The Duke of Whitetail was not kept waiting, especially when he summoned you to the Great Hall.
Diane was still trying to understand the reason for this summons. Why did Jacob summon her in the same way as the men who served under his standard? He could have found her below the castle, where she was imagining with Edith the future gardens and vegetable patches that she wanted to create on the plots of land that he had granted her.
So many ideas were racing through her head. Fruit trees, wells, fountains, gravel paths that would wind between the garden squares with a thousand and one plants from the four corners of the kingdom. Diane wanted to rival Faith's gardens. She wanted to make the gardens of St Francis a model that would be envied and imitated. And make Jacob proud of her work.
Perhaps that was why he summoned her. Did the amount required for the improvements exceed what Jacob had granted her? Diane saw only this explanation to justify her "imperative" presence - as the messenger who came to find her had pointed out - in the heart of St. Francis's power. Being summoned to the Great Hall could only mean two things: an official ceremony or a judgment from the Duke. Diane knew that no ceremony, no knighting was planned in the coming weeks. So that meant she had done something that had displeased Jacob. And the only thing that could meet with his displeasure was her proud garden project.
The great ornate doors of the hall soon stood before her, always guarded by two Chosen in armor, faces hidden, halberd in hand. Day and night, the Chosen took turns guarding this room, even if it was empty. There was a whole symbol there. No one was to enter without the Duke's approval. Even she, his wife, couldn't give her permission.
Without a word, they moved apart and pushed open the doors which emitted a long creaking sound that echoed in the vast room, crashing against the high vaulted ceiling and its imposing arched beams. Timidly crossing the threshold, Diana's eyes wandered towards the stone dais on which Jacob sat in his oak throne, lit by the large windows above it.
The throne was empty.
Behind Diane, the guards closed the doors with a loud slam. Then silence gradually fell back into the Great Hall, leaving her strangely alone. Intrigued by this staging, if that was indeed the case, Diane walked slowly to the dais, looking curiously around her, expecting to see Jacob emerge from behind the pillars that supported the weight of the heavy vaulted roof. The flags above her head fluttered gently in the air currents that snaked through the room.
Arriving in front of the dais, Diane hesitated, casting an uncertain glance towards the empty throne, then to her own, smaller one, sculpted and installed shortly after their marriage. Apparently, Jacob had left. Had it taken her this long to get back to the castle and through its countless corridors to reach its heart?
Footsteps sounded behind her and made her jump. She turned sharply. Jacob stood there, a few meters away from her, dressed in a long tunic of dark green embroidered with gold thread, black hose, a woven wool belt and perfectly polished leather boots. Some of his long red locks had been braided, embellished with gold beads, and hung down his face. He had indulged in this coquetry ever since Diane had braided his hair one day, while they were in their small mansion bordering Cedar Lake, to escape the weight of their obligations for a few days.
The young woman had to admit that he was undeniably attractive dressed like that. He rarely dressed so elegantly, preferring to wear a tabard over chainmail, with his sword hanging from a belt to remind his warrior side. He always seemed ready to go to war.
He advanced with heavy steps, inexorably moving towards her, in a controlled, almost predatory gait. Golden highlights sparkled in his beard and hair as he passed through a ray of light.
"Weren’t you supposed to be hunting?" Diane asked, uncomfortable with his silence. "I thought a deer had caught your interest. The one you were telling me about the other day."
Jacob didn't answer her. He continued walking, his face stone-faced, his eyes fixed on her. At no point did he blink. He looked like a wolf on the hunt. His soles clicked on the flagstones and the echo of the great hall amplified the sound of his approach. He was almost upon her, more imposing with every step. Diane was tempted to back away, but taking a step back would be an admission of weakness.
I have nothing to reproach myself for. Right?
"Will you explain to me the reason for this summons?"
A tremor in her voice betrayed her growing nervousness. And Jacob's persistent silence didn't help matters. What was he playing at?
He was finally upon her and before Diane had time to open her mouth, he pounced on her. Diane barely had time to glimpse the glowing redness of his eyes as his hands captured her cheeks.
"Jac…"
He silenced her by kissing her with a deep kiss. Diane's eyes widened in surprise before melting into his arms. Jacob kissed her harder, as if he were feeding on her lips. Out of breath, Diane soon had to move away from him. Jacob growled against her mouth, annoyed.
"You kept me waiting, kitten," he said, his voice tinged with reproach.
"I was afraid of getting told off."
An amused smile tugged at Jacob's lips.
"Maybe I should… But I have something else on my mind."
At these words, Diane felt her mark radiate with a gentle warmth. A familiar, pleasant, intimate, sensual warmth. Her cheeks flushed as she realized why Jacob had asked her to join him 'imperatively'. A smile almost tugged at her lips as she imagined him walking around the Great Hall, impatiently awaiting her arrival, his hard, throbbing desire trapped in the tightness of his chausses.
Unfortunately for her, Jacob's long tunic prevented her from seeing the shape of his straining sex through the fabric.
"Why did you summon me?"
Jacob's eyes slid further down her body, leaving a burning trail in their wake, and Diane felt as if he were undressing her with his eyes. A warm feeling awoke in her lower abdomen, mingling with the one in the hollow of her neck.
"I urgently need to be between your thighs, kitten. You left so quickly this morning."
Diane felt herself shiver at his sincerity and wetness pricked between her legs. She loved the way his voice became raspier and thicker when his body was overwhelmed with desire. His words had this peculiar way of rolling off his tongue.
"Urgent to the point of interrupting me in the project that requires my attention?"
Jacob's chest shook with silent laughter. His face leaned towards hers and his lips brushed against hers, subtly fanning the flames of her desire. Diane opened her mouth slightly to invite him to come and lick her tongue. He leaned in a little closer, and Diane thought he was going to give in to his urge to kiss her. She craned her neck.
But Jacob pulled away at the last moment, leaving the ghost of a kiss lingering against her lips. Diane blinked several times, disconcerted.
"Urgent to the point of canceling my hunting trip. You know how much I love to hunt. I've been hard all morning, kitten. Every thought I had brought me back to you."
One of his hands came to nestle in the hollow of her back to bring her closer to him. Diane's skin crawled with shivers as his thick beard scratched her jaw. His chapped lips barely touched her ear as he whispered hoarsely:
"I thought about the firmness of your thighs around my hips, the way you scream my name as you tighten around my cock."
His quick breath, mingled with the scent of leather and steel, made Diane's desire rise like a river overflowing its banks. The inside of her thighs were now burning. Jacob must have sensed it because he tightened his grip to pull her closer and make her feel the strength of his ardor. Diane gripped the collar of his tunic to keep her balance, as Jacob's hips shamelessly ground against hers to force her to give in. He knew how to be terribly persuasive.
"Are you going to turn away and leave me in this state, Diane?" he continued, tracing the outline of her ear with the tip of his tongue. "Are your gardens more important than me? Are you that cruel?"
He nibbled at her earlobe. Diane's mark began to heat up again, as if her blood were boiling beneath her skin. And feeling Jacob's hard cock rippling against her finished off the poor resistance she was trying to put up. She moaned as she tried to snuggle up to him, seeking caresses and satisfaction. Everything was possible. He could spread her on the ground, where the sun's rays warmed the flagstones, on her back or on all fours, lean her against a pillar, hold her by the thighs with his large, firm hands…
"Oh kitten, I haven’t even started yet," Jacob chuckled in her ear, sensing her excitement.
He released her, leaving her dizzy and trembling, then he walked around her, brushing against her body, his hand running distractedly along her stomach to stir up her senses. Diane followed his movement and watched him climb the steps of the dais before advancing towards his throne. He turned to face her, overlooking her from the height on which he stood. Then he took a seat on the symbol of his power, his arms resting casually on the armrests. He gave off an impression of majesty, domination, power. He was the Duke in this hall, lord and master of St Francis.
His gaze fixed on her unblinkingly, studying her the way a wolf would about to pounce on a doe.
"On your knees."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Oh kitten don’t make me tell you twice. You know I hate repeating myself."
He patted his thigh gently, looking at her intently. Diane climbed the steps with a measured step, ignoring as much as possible the way her femininity throbbed every time her thighs rubbed together.
"Honor your lord, kitten."
Arriving in front of him, Diane knelt down cautiously. The cold of the tiles penetrated the light fabric of her summer dress and she regretted for a moment not having a cushion to be more comfortable.
"Good girl," Jacob said with a barely concealed smile. "You look beautiful at my feet. Maybe I should keep you like this during ceremonies. On your knees for me."
Diane looked up at him. God, she felt so small in front of him. It wasn't his size that gave her this overwhelming feeling - even though he was tall - but rather this aura of power that enveloped him. It was heavy, thick. Diane perceived it through her mark. It surrounded them, vibrating in the air, ready to burst. Jacob was powerful and dangerous, and those who forgot that were signing their own death warrant.
But she, human and weak, could caress this power without fear of burning herself. Jacob had chosen her and decided to spare her the night she was to meet her dire destiny. She knew she should have died to satisfy her mortal appetite; Jacob had admitted it, looking away.
"Shall I recite the oath of allegiance to you, my lord?"
A reddish spark lit up in Jacob's eyes.
"I'm listening."
Oh, his tone was so deep. Had it ever been this deep before? Diane was grateful to be on her knees, otherwise she was sure she would have staggered, drunk on his voice.
"I promise to serve you and dedicate my life to you."
The sparkle in Jacob's eyes grew brighter. Diane raised her hands and, with a deft gesture, undid the laces of his chausses and slid down the top of his breeches, revealing the flesh of his slightly rounded belly. She leaned down and placed kisses along the line of red hair that ran down to his pubis.
"I promise to obey your orders."
His eager cock soon emerged, finally freed from its prison, long and hard, swollen with desire, begging for caresses to soothe its torment. Diane immediately took it in her hand, unable to resist the urge to feel the special softness of his fine skin, crisscrossed with countless veins.
Above her, Jacob sighed before stretching his legs out on either side of the young woman. Her fingers first began to brush against his length, savoring the rough, irregular outline of the prominent, pulsating veins, then descended to the thick fleece that covered his pubis.There, she cupped his round, heavy testicles, caressing them with infinite gentleness, delicately tracing their curves.
"I promise to be faithful to you and never lie to you."
Jacob was breathing deeply above her. Diane looked up to see him staring at her, his eyelids half-closed.
"Your oath is over. What are you waiting for to take me in your mouth, kitten?"
His voice was low, vibrant. Like a wolf's growl. Diane noticed the bobbing of his Adam's apple, and the way his fingers gripped the carved armrests, like the talons of a bird of prey. He was obviously restraining himself from plunging his hand into her hair to control her movements, fighting against his animal part that pushed him to satisfy his desire. His whole being exuded need.
If Diane had listened to herself, she would have played with Jacob, to try to make him supplicant, driven by pride to believe that she could manage to wring a few needy words from this man who had never begged anyone in his long life, not even those who had killed him.
But the way her mark prickled dissuaded her. Jacob clearly wasn't ready to be more patient today. Maybe next time.
With a sigh, Diane leaned forward, under the crushing gaze of her husband. Her mouth gently enveloped his glans, trapping him in her moist heat, and her tongue moved sensually over his sensitive skin, savoring the taste of his sex. She sucked him lazily, gave him a few short head bobs, before releasing him with a discreet “pop,” tracing a languid path along his dick, descending ever lower. A foretaste of pleasure
Finally, her lips closed around one of his testicles and she savored it like a tasty fruit. Jacob's body jerked at the movement of her mouth. His teeth nibbled at her lower lip and Diane didn't miss his canines protruding slightly. She smiled mischievously as she moved on to the second testicle to give it the same attention. Jacob loved her licks, and he didn't need to say it. His body betrayed him. Diane felt his balls contract between her lips and she saw the agitation that made his member jump against his lower abdomen, beating the time of a score that they were both writing.
Then she moved back up to slide it between her wet lips again.
"Hmmm…Yes…That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about all morning," Jacob sighed ecstatically, slumped in his throne, as Diane gained confidence and guided him ever further.
He tilted his head, never taking his eyes off her, his long red locks partially hiding his face. Diane could have spent hours contemplating this painting mixing sovereignty and eroticism, but it disturbed her. She wanted to lower her eyes to apply herself to her task. Jacob clicked his tongue.
"Look at me when you have my cock in your mouth."
His relentless order hit the high vaulted ceiling. At the same time, he pulled on her hair to force her to raise her head. Diane obeyed him with a strangled moan, her mouth filled with his thick cock.
For long minutes, she applied herself to sucking him. The wet, obscene echo of her work seemed to resonate throughout the hall. Would she be able to stand here, at the next ceremonies, facing all these faces raised towards them, without blushing, remembering Jacob's caresses to free her face to better see the way her cheeks hollowed with each back and forth? Or the deep growl that made his broad chest vibrate? Or the taste of him spreading across her tongue as his dick pushed into her mouth?
Jacob's chest was rising faster and faster. His canines were fully extended, long and menacing. His eyes were darker. Glowing reflections flickered from time to time, as if an internal struggle was playing out within him. A struggle between man and vampire.
Unable to hold it in any longer, one of his hands took refuge in her hair to grab it, undoing the hairdo Edith had carefully done before they went down into the gardens. Diane blushed, wondering how she would justify her disheveled state when her friend saw her return. Edith would have no doubt about what had happened during her meeting with Jacob.
"That's it, kitten, keep going," he growled hoarsely, controlling her head movements with a firm gesture. "You're taking me so well. It's good..."
He threw his head back, moaning loudly, without any shame, without any fear that the guards would hear him. What could he possibly be ashamed of? He was the Duke after all. He could dispose of every room in St Francis as he saw fit.
Still under his control, Diane raised one of her hands towards him. Jacob grabbed it and brought it to his lips. He first kissed her skin with feverish eagerness, then the tips of his teeth brushed against her thin skin, searching for the place where it would be easiest to bite without pain. His lust moved to the inside of her wrist, where purple veins snaked beneath the pale skin. His lips stopped where Diane's pulse was beating furiously. And his teeth bit her.
Diane moaned around Jacob's member as she felt trails of warm blood run down her wrist. It was a superficial bite, an erotic game that Jacob was very fond of. With a low growl, he licked her skin greedily. Diane's mark was burning hot and thousands of waves of pleasure seemed to pass through her body from side to side, fueling her own unfulfilled desire.
"Oh Diane… Oh Diane…"
His voice grew deeper and louder. His grunts reverberated obscenely off the walls. Diane's mark radiated and its warmth seemed to slide down to the hardened tips of her breasts. Jacob was about to cum. The heat between her thighs radiated, ready to burst.
Diana looked up, eager to see the moment when supreme pleasure would seize him and transfigure his features. Jacob must have felt her gaze on him because he lowered his head at the same time, and when their eyes met, Diane felt a violent shiver run down her spine and Jacob's cock twitched sharply.
The hand in her hair tightened as his pleasure spread across her tongue in hot spurts. Jacob's thighs twitched, then his orgasm faded like a flickering flame. He gave one last growl, his eyelids closed, and his hips fell back onto the throne. The hand in Diane's hair loosened but remained tangled in her locks.
A comfortable silence fell. Diane stepped back, freeing his wet sex from the grip of her lips. She became aware of the saliva around her lips and on her chin. She wiped herself with the sleeve of her dress before resting her cheek on Jacob's thigh admiring the calm that relaxed his features usually fixed in a hard and impenetrable expression.
"Are you satisfied, my Lord?"
Jacob opened his eyes and lowered his head limply. A brief smile stretched his mouth. A few drops of blood glistened in his beard, mingling with the gold of his pearls. His rough thumb came to caress the pulp of her lip.
"That mouth," he commented. "You should see how swollen your lips are."
With a gesture, he helped Diane up and sit on his legs. Instinctively, Diane nestled against him. His fingers pulled the light fabric of her dress to reveal the flesh of her shapely thighs. With a shy smile, Diane spread her legs, inviting him to touch her.
"I want to hear you," he said, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. "Let me take care of you, my sweet. Your gardens can wait."
And his middle finger slid between her wet folds, drawing a soft moan from her.
