Summary: After recently transferring to Hope County, Deputy (Name) Rook is dragged by the Sheriff and a US Marshal to take a seedy cult leader into custody.Something begins to act up as their multiple soulmate marks begin to burn themselves into place and cement bonds that Rook believes should have never existed in the first place.
Content warning:Cannon-typical violence, Soulmate au, Religious imagery & symbolism, Cults, Angst, Slow-burn, Eventual smut, Everything that is Far Cry 5, which is honestly a warning in itself. The author is sleep deprived.
Additional warnings: NA
Masterlist
notes:Chapter has not been reviewed or edited. While in my best efforts to keep Reader/ deputy as ambiguous as possible, Reader does have hair. Length and colour are not specified. Skin or eye colour is not specified. gender ambiguity may be subject to change from audience perspective, as i was originally intending to write for a female audience. I tried to change all that was written, but some may have slipped through. A poll for Faith is provided below, at the end of the chapter
Prologue: The Beginniging of the End
You watched as the video cut out, a signal error message displayed over the static of the tablet. The sheriff tapped your knee as he spoke to you.
“..Ookie, Rookie. You're wasting your time; there is no signal up here.” You sucked on your lip and sighed as you looked to Marshal Burke, and he spoke about the area the helicopter had been crossing over while he read the map with the debrief. Everyone's head raised as you all looked to your left, staring at the massive statue- a monument of the Father. You'd seen him in your own debrief.
“Oh fuck, there he is-” Hudson said as she watched the statue fly by.
“Are we officially in Peggy country, then?” you muttered, hardly heard over the sound of the rushing wind. You were quiet.
“That's right,” Hudson said. “We’re here.” It was obvious that Marshal was growing impatient as he asked Whitehorse about how much longer we had left in the godforsaken flying machine.
“Long enough for you to change your mind, so we can turn this bird around. You know?”
“He can't ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff,” you said, putting your hand on the papers that Burke was raising, trying to show him the warrant at the top of the stack. Burke pulled his hand away and returned the papers to his lap, shooting you a glare. Whitehorse cut in,
“I just want you to understand the reality of this situation, Marshal. The Father- Joseph Seed, he's not a man to be fucked with. We’ve had run-ins before, and they've not always gone our way- before Rook came up here.”
“Yeah, well, we have laws for a reason, Sheriff.” Burke motioned to the papers again. “Joseph Seed has to learn that.” He leaned forward and tucked the papers under his thigh so they wouldn't fly.
“You'll be fine,” Hudson nodded to you as she turned her back at the doors that Whitehorse was opening. The choir got louder, and the Marshal and Sheriff were already walking forward, leaving you to catch up in the centre of them.
“Something is coming, you can feel it, can't you?” The father began speaking- and you stared at the glowing, warped cross above him. “That we are creeping towards the edge… And there will be a reckoning.” You felt the air in your chest grow heavy, and your throat ran dry. Your arms- the tattoos scrawled across your arms and hips began to itch. You pulled the sleeve of your uniform down further. “That is why we started the project. Because we know what happens next.” His head shifted with his gaze as he looked at all the people in the pews, momentarily ignoring the presence of you and your companions.
“They will come. They will try to take from us, take our guns… Take our freedom, take our faith. We will not let them.” He raised his head a little higher as he stared at you and the two men at your sides.
“Sheriff, c’mon-” Burke began, but Whitehorse cut him off.
“Just hold on, Marshal.”
“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore.” You were steps away from the father, and your eyes travelled to the three ‘siblings’ behind him. Faces you also recognised from your reading. Your tattoos, the ones there from birth, began to burn, and felt like fire clawing its way up your limbs and torso, clawing at your throat. You knew where this was going, and silently prayed you were wrong- that your body, your soul, was confused.
“There will be no more suffering,” he shouted over the two men at your side as they tried to speak.
“Joseph Seed,” Bruke shouted as he raised the warrant. “I have a warrant issued for your arrest, On the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm!” Joseph only stared, as if he was gawking that someone had dared raise their voice to him. “Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see ‘em” The father raised his hands, and his rosary flashed in the light, peggies from the pews muttering and voicing their discontent.
“Here they are. Locusts in our garden… You see, they've come for me?” He stared at you as his hands fell, and multiple people, patrons of the cult, stepped in front of him, shielding him. “They’ve come to take me away from you; they've come to destroy all that we've built!” The peggies from the pews hollered, and some raised their guns. A commotion began to stir, and now people were yelling as your ears rang. You stared at the Father, directly in the middle across from you, as the sheriff tried to diffuse the situation. You couldn't look away. You didn't even notice the seeds behind him staring, either.
“Everyone, calm down,” Whitehorse said as people watched Joseph step down. The cult began to quiet near instantly.
“We knew this moment would come. We've prepared for it,” he said, looking to the two followers he stepped between. “Go, go.” He ushered them away. “God will not let them take me.” You watched as the following began to expel from the church, all of them shuffling out past you, glaring. When you looked back at Joseph, his hands were raised in the air.
“I saw when the lamb opened the first seal, and I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, ‘Come and see’.”
“Step forward,” Burke bristled, and Joseph dropped his hands, stepping forward and looking directly at the marshal.
“And I saw, and behold,” He pointed a finger at Burke before directing it to the sheriff. “It was a white horse,” he put his hand down, and his gaze shifted to your own. “And hell followed with him.” There wasn't even a breath of pause before the marshal spoke. Already turned to you.
“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch, You looked at him- the fire in your left arm nearly debilitating as you grabbed the cuffs on your waist.
“God will not let you take me.” The mark, the first words directed at you from your soulmate- the very ones that branded black into your skin began to gleam, shining through your shirt as the heat began to burn at the shirt above it. Cinders ashed away the portion of the sleeve that covered the declaration, and faded as soon as your skin could breathe. The cuffs clattered to the ground, and the six other people in the church simply stared at them.
Stared as you bent over and vomited on the floors of the church. Shaking as you grabbed the thankfully clean cuffs from next to your boots, you rose back up and wiped whatever was around your mouth with your intact sleeve, then looked up at the man before you.
“Guess there is no hiding that one, huh?” You said as you cuffed the pastor, who, just as the others, was still in awe at the now white tattoo on your arm, wincing at the words, which were now shining on his back, cemented themselves in the white colour. You ignored it and the gaping looks of his siblings behind him. Your others still itched and burned, but you ignored the sensation as you grabbed the centre of the chain linking the cuffs together and yanked Joseph forward with them.
“Rook- wait. Rookie,” Whitehorse frantically followed you as you began to march, laughing the silent cult leader behind you. “Deputy Rook.”
“What?” you snapped as you stopped on your heel, half turning to stare at your superior, all while Joseph bumped into your back. You swore he whispered to you and felt his breath on your neck, but you didnt hear him. Your mind was still buzzing, and your ears were still ringing, your stomach was still churning with he images of your now confirmed soulmate (or at least one of them, you thought. You were sure the others wouldn't turn out the same way Joseph had.), gouging out a civilian's eyes, and you were huffing, nearly shaking. Was it anger? Or perhaps some deeper, more grotesque emotion you couldn't identify. You didnt know. Your head jerked as you spoke up again. “What could it possibly be, Sheriff?” You swallowed and shoved the Pastor back by his cuffs, giving your burning body space.
“Rook, I can take him if you want to go on ahead and sort yourself. This looks like a difficult situation for you to handle immediately for yourself.”
The surrounding peggies began to shift. They were already agitated, but they didnt understand what was happening before them. You straightened your posture and released a heavy breath before you looked around.
“Let's just go,” You said as you pushed Joseph in front of you. Slowly, Joseph looked over his shoulder, his eyes fairly unreadable, before he looked forward and slowly walked forward. He raised his head higher and began to preach to the peggies he passed.
“My brothers and sisters,” he shouted as the crowds went silent, even the rabidly barking dogs seemed to quiet. You pushed him by his shoulder, trying to speed up his pace to go around the building. His pace didnt change, but his voice grew louder to reach his people. “God had bestowed my soulmate, my destined devotee.”
“Shut up,” You hissed.
“This Deputy, they have not found the way. They may be fearful.”
“Shut up, Seed.” You enunciated as you moved your hand to the centre of his back, trying to usher him before he spilt too much.
“You cannot harm this deputy, as it is God's plan for them to live in Eden with us, and they are lost.”
“Get into the fucking helicopter,” You said, giving him a final shove, forcing him to nearly trip in the dirt and mud.
The helicopter was filled with noise, the sound of gunfire and screams had been roaring as Hudson attempted takeoff. Peggies were crawling up the ascending aircraft like cockroaches, and Burke used his service weapon to shoot one’s brains out. Everyone was shouting, and they were still latched onto the landing skids. You hadn't even noticed the father humming, his head laid back as he stared at you below his glasses. Your eyes were instead on the glass of the cockpit as one peggie stood on the nose and threw himself into the blades.
The helicopter was spinning, and you felt bile rise in your throat, seeing everyone brace themselves. You felt dizzy at the twirling trees and the sheer force of the rotation. Someone, you don't know who, shouted “Brace for impact,” but you hardly heard it before everything went black.
Your head was pounding as you craned your neck upwards, and you opened your eyes to still spotty vision. You weren't sure where you were at the moment, but the muffled voices of the person holding you in their arms with a rising set of flames behind you was enough to push enough adrenaline through your system to kick your instincts into gear. You thrashed, only to have Joseph, the one holding you, try to grip you to his chest harder and shush you. It only earned him an elbow to his cheek, then your knee to the opposite side of his jaw. In the bustle, you had managed to squirm free and dropped to the ground on your back below him. He was gripping his jaw as one of his pests leaned down to reach for you, but your foot flew up, and you knocked his jaw upwards, your boot landing with a sickening thud. You rolled and shifted, getting to your knees within a breath and turned to look at Joseph over your shoulder before jolting to the burning helicopter. You saw nobody left in it, and felt stones settle in your stomach.
Assumably, they'd escaped, but based on how long you'd seemed to have been knocked out post-crash, they may have been taken just as Joseph had tried to take you.
“Deputy, you can't run. You lost your chance to walk away.” Joseph was already walking slowly behind you. He outreached his hands; his head tilted and you watched as his glasses slipped down his nose. “Come to me, and we can save you.”
“Fuck you and your piss-coloured glasses.” You turned and jumped through the fire, across the cabin of the helicopter and out the other side, and followed the trail into the woods.
I love your deputy so much, she's such an icon. If she had to choose one Seed to be stuck in a bunker with, which one would it be??
AHHHHH, YOU'RE SO SWEET!!!
God, hmmm, really good question- ironically, I think despite arguably being the one she's more scared of in some respects- probably Jacob. In the reaping, he's the one she's initially the most scared to confront because just physically she feels the least capable of kicking his ass. And arguably he's also the gruffest with her, but honestly I think in some respects that's actually what makes him feel more manageable to her in a bunker situation.
Faith would play fake nice, try to fill her head with lies, talk about fate and how this was meant to be. Very touchy, hovering, needling because this is her chance to convert the deputy to earn Joseph's praise in New Eden- until the Bliss withdrawals hit. If they're in some random bunker, but honestly even if a Edens Gate bunker- short of it being Faith's bunker, I doubt it'd be enough to keep her balanced just given how much she was inhaling daily. Then it goes from constantly dealing with her fake passivity, lies, attempts at manipulation to having to help her and handling the instability, moodswings, and physical symptoms. One moment Joseph is their savior, this was meant to be, she'll see when the gates open- next moment, he's a monster, made her do this, you don't really blame her, do you? Dahlia would probably lose her mind trying to manage and help, though maybe once the worse of it passes and Faith starts to feel a little bit more like Rachel, it'd be a bit easier.
John would drive her up a fucking wall. Because, similarly- this is his chance, he can finally get his yes, his confession- seven years to pull every sin from her throat. And Dahlia doesn't really do emotional vulnerability and confessions. Even if John wasn't nuts. He's badgering her constantly, however unlike Faith- he doesn't need withdrawal to make him unstable, he just is. Somedays it's sickly sweet, promising how much relief confession brings- that she'll be welcomed into the new Eden if she just said yes. Other days when his patience has ran its course- it's volatile snapping, attempts at physical force. They could definitely have some calmer moments, they both like drawing and art, but he's so up and down, she'd never feel completely sure if she should be walking on eggshells or if she can tell him to fuck off without getting a mug thrown at her head.
Joseph is... Joseph, of course. All of the Seeds are intense, of course, but he's the king of intense. Boundaries- fake, lies, Satan made those up. Personal space- never heard of her. Not only tries to get in her head about Edens Gate, fate, family, becoming his family- but he's praying constantly, near her, by her, with her by force. Oddly enough, walk with me here, I think he'd keep her handcuffed the longest. We give Jacob shit about his cages and control freak tendencies, Joseph is the bigger control freak, hence running a cult, and also not as bothered by the pragmatism of it. Mean I have to bathe you- alright, gotta chauffeur you to the bathroom, okay. He needs to be heard, he needs an audience- how can you preach if no one is listening, how can you lead if no one will follow? He's going to be on her like a leech.
Jacob, our winner winner chicken dinner, is a lot of things- 9 times out of 10 needy isn't one of those things. As much as he likes to hear himself talk sometimes, he also isn't wasting his time and energy on preaching at her- especially now that the bombs hit, surviving is more important than converting. He definitely keeps her handcuffed for a bit, but once she makes it clear she's not gonna try anything, he'll let her go for practicalitys sake- maybe taunting that he can keep her under control,but the biggest worry is him making her hurt someone else- and who's he gonna make her hurt? The water heater? And while Jacob has an intense presence, he doesn't have a suffocating one. He doesn't give a shit about learning about all her sins, he doesn't care if she believed beyond some gloating that the world ended like he said- but otherwise he's more concerned if she eats more than she should because we gotta ration our supplies you idiot. He's a dick, he's smug, he sometimes hums only you just to get a cheap laugh when she gets panicky- but he gives her more space than any of the other siblings which ironically draws her closer, because she's a fucking cat.
John, Joseph, and Faith give her so much attention she feels overwhelmed like a cat being squeezed by an overexcited child.
Jacob gives her attention when needed, so she's more prone to plopping down near him and trying to poke her nose in his business.
Which is why of course why the best solution is to throw them all in with her so, he can balance them out.... kind of
Fandom: Far Cry: New Dawn
Relationship(s): Jacob Seed x F!Judge; Polyseed feat. F!Judge
Rating: T (teen and up)
Words: 450
Warning(s): polyamory; pregnancy
You send your son off to sleep with a kiss on each eyelid. With a sigh as soft as the afternoon breeze, he curls up against Jacob's chest.
"Took him long enough," he whispers, one large hand of his covering the entirety of the toddler's tiny head.
"He has your eyes," you tease. "Always vigilant."
Before he can protest, you turn towards Faith whose eyes fluttered shut before her nephew's. You kiss her lashes, too, thanking her for tiring him out.
"I got the Old Man's eyes," he sunk further into the animal furs. "So did Joseph. And John."
"That's some strong seed," you poke at him again, propping yourself up on an elbow.
"You'd know, angel," he winks, playing your childish game.
"I mean it," you say, serious all of a sudden.
It startles him, but not sufficiently to disturb the slumbering child lying on top of him.
"I think he's yours," your voice is barely audible as you burrow your teeth into his bicep, biting lightly.
"Too handsome," he humors you, snapping his teeth close to your face. "Looks like Jonny when he was a kid," he smiles at the memory and at his nephew (or son). "Ma couldn't stop snappin' pictures of him."
"And now John can't stop painting him," you smile at the thought of your baby's father (or uncle) fretting over you shifting in your seat while posing for the portrait. "I wonder if they have functioning cameras in Prosperity," you speak aloud the thought of travelling outside of New Eden.
"Don't let Joseph hear you say that," he shakes his head.
Faith yawns, wrapping one lazy arm around you. "Don't let Father hear her say what?"
You and Jacob duet as you shush her.
"Oh, he's sleeping?" She speaks against your spine. "Sorry."
"She wants to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbours," he rises from the cot, heading for the crib.
"A camera," you correct him, getting comfortable in her caress.
"I'm gettin' Jonny away from his paints and we're goin' scavengin'." Jacob's joints pop as he lets go of that small, fragile bundle of flesh and bones in his arm. "Sun's still up. Who knows, maybe we'll get to snap one before it goes down."
"Look out for each other out there," Faith joins their foreheads, stroking his red and silver mane.
"Our babies need all three of their dads," you struggle to stand up in a sitting position as he places his forehead against yours. "Come back to us alive."
"Yes, ma'am," he salutes you as he stands back up and pops his back.
And, as Faith eases you back into her embrace, he smiles down on your belly which grows bigger by the day. Maybe this one will come out looking more like his unpretty self. Or, maybe, he and his brothers would have to mount you a third time.
the deputy as the newest debutant making her debut in high society.
Joseph Seed a vicar (actually a he’s a rector but I was worried people wouldn’t know what that was) He is a widower and thought he’d never marry again will he be proven wrong?
John Seed a barrister (court lawyer) who is a complete rake (man whore) and a dandy. Do you think dep can tame him? Is there more under that playboy surface?
Jacob Seed an officer in the birtish army. Jacob doesn’t like you and you don’t like him but do you think that might change?
Faith Jessop (seed) a dowager with a secret crush and a mild opium problem. How will you respond to her forbidden flirtations?
A Hope County Christmas (Part Two): Seed Family Dinner
Notes: Second chapter out, wooooo! Note to self never start on a christmas fic after christmas, you just end up stressed. Also, the first chapter has to my shock been getting a lot of love over on AO3, which I really appreciate, thank you to everyone who likes and enjoys my weird garbage.
Summary: It’s Christmas time in Hope County and as one might suspect, it can be hard to find any Christmas spirit to spare with Eden’s Gate waging their holy war. Junior Deputy Dahlia Hale fully suspects this holiday will be spent just as every last day has been spent since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. But, between the Rye’s incurable optimism and the Seed’s…fascination with her, she can’t say she expected this.
You can read part one right here!
Word Count: 4678
Warnings: Non-consensual touching (It’s not inherently sexual, Faith basically washes Dahlia but still), bathing/washing, drugging, kidnapping. Polyseed. Jacob has a pet Judge Wolf and John has a pet cat, cause idk, I like that shit.
The radio cuts out and Dahlia groans, rage and wrath bubbling in her veins. She can’t have one normal fucking day.
“That John Seed, I swear to god, he can’t take a fuckin’ hint.” Nick is already pissed, just the mention of John Seed does that to him.
“Could anyone else hear John stroking it, or was that just me?” Sharky looks around for confirmation.
Dahlia is already up, her movements and body language drawn tight as she yanks the sweater off over her head, grabbing her uniform shirt and jacket that are strewn on a chair.
“Where are you going?” Kim asks, face twisted up with worry, eyes soft.
“It’s John, if he wants to me, he’s gonna get me. I stay here and your place is gonna be swimming with peggies before you know it. Just ‘cause the Seed got some sick fascination with me, doesn’t mean I gotta ruin everyone else’s night.”
“Fuckin’ let ‘em come, we’ll blow ‘em to smithereens.”
“All they need is us all drunk and vulnerable, none of us are in any state to fight,” Dahlia says with a sigh, handing the sweater back towards Kim.
“Keep it, you can wear it again next year.” That little notion of hope, of a future with more Christmas parties makes Dahlia smile.
“Thanks.”
“But…can you ride your bike, right now? You’re not exactly sober either.”
“Doesn’t matter if I ride or walk it, as long as I get some distance between here and me. I’ll be fine, you don’t hear from me in three days, you all know what to do.”
She gives her friends a half-hearted wave, trying not to let the anger and stress show through. One day, all she wanted, one fucking day.
The cold air hits her flushed face and she sighs, tucking the sweater into the trunk space under her motorcycle seat. She lights a cigarette both for warmth and stress relief as she pushes her bike away from the Rye home. If she were sober and more energetic, she’d be crafting how to escape his capture team. John’s are always the easiest to avoid. Once she managed to evade them three time, liberating a cult outpost and helping a defected peggie before they nabbed her. John was fuming and she was grinning. But, she’s not sober and there’s not much to do.
She’s a considerable distance away, surrounded by woods. Engines rev, his capture party getting close. Dahlia sighs, at least the Rye’s will have a decent party without peggies ruining the damn thing. A white truck with the familiar cross designs pulls up. She recognizes the cultists in the front seat, a face constantly showing up when she’s kidnapped.
“Hey, Teddy,” she greets him.
“My name is Theodore.”
“Hey Teddy.”
“I’ll never understand what the father sees in you.”
“You and me both, bud.”
“You’re not running today?”
“I’m drunk man.”
“Of course, you are.” He aims the gun, loaded with bliss bullets, at her.
“Do we really need the bullets today? I’m not even running!?”
“Shooting you is the most fun I have anymore, so yes, we need the bullets.”
“Seriously, I-OW!” The bliss coated bullet sinks into the meat of her thigh
Within seconds her vision starts to swim, colors distorting and her limbs growing heavy before she falls back on the ground. Theodore hovering over her.
“Dickhead,” she slurs out before the world goes black.
Dahlia blinks a few times as she slowly comes back in consciousness. There’s still a haze to her brain, but she feels more sober than she did before she was kidnapped. A soft familiar humming is drifting through the room, the same one that echoes through the Henbane. She tries to get up out of bed, but can’t hardly move her body. No ties or restraints, her limbs just to heavy to move despite her head feeling clear. The cult is always fucking around with new strands of bliss, she’s no longer surprised at the things it can manage to do to her.
Slender hands wrap around Dahlia’s wrists and she’s gently tugged up into a sitting position, she’s on a bed. Her legs now over the edge of it, Faith smiling and staring into her eyes.
“Hello, deputy.”
“Ugh.”
“It’s our first Christmas together, aren’t you excited?”
“Ugh.”
“I know, you’re still clinging to your sins, but don’t worry, we’ll show you the path. With love and patience.”
“And kidnapping.” That earns Dahlia a stern look, like she’s a toddler who just stole a cookie before dinner.
“You still don’t understand and that’s okay, none of us are giving up on you. Now, you need to get washed up for dinner,” she fiddles with a glitter glue clump in Dahlia’s hair and lets out her soft little melodic giggle, “as pretty as this is, this is an important day, alright.”
Faith yanks Dahlia forward and off the bed, bliss heavy limbs making the deputy just fall against her. Her fingers knot in the white fabric of Faith’s dress, all her weight pressed against the taller woman. The youngest Seed sibling just giggles and pets Dahlia’s hair before leading her forward on shaky legs.
There’s a simple clean bathroom, steam rising up from the bathtub filled with water. Faith softly hums as she leaves Dahlia leaning against the sink for support, testing the temperature of the water. The soft steam twirling in the air around her face. She truly is beautiful, despite everything, Dahlia can recognize that the Seeds are attractive. Crazy assholes, but attractive ones.
Faith returns to Dahlia, their six-inch or so height difference feels like so much more when Faith looks down at her, pale hands pushing under her leather jacket. The deputy doesn’t have the strength to fight it, jacket hitting the ground. Then Faith is doing the same with the uniform shit, a noticeable twinge of anger in her expression when she sees the Hope County Cougars button next to Dahlia’s badge. Her hands skim slowly and teasing as she works through each layer, getting closer and closer to Dahlia’s skin.
The herald pulls Dahlia’s shirt up over her head. No bra and her chest is completely exposed. Green eyes looking over her breasts and Dahlia braces herself, expecting greedy touches and groping. Embarrassed by the way warmth builds in her center with anticipation. But instead, Faith simply hums and starts to undo Dahlia’s jeans. In moments she’s stripped completely naked, exposed in the bright light of the bathroom. No way to hide herself.
Faith gently leads Dahlia towards the bathtub, helping her into the hot water. She sits down and tries to pull her knees to her chest, but finds her limbs still not responding. Despite the situation, she finds herself relaxing into the water. The heat a welcome relief from the chill outside.
Things stay surprisingly innocent. Not that Dahlia wants it to not be innocent. But Faith’s touch never seem to deviate beyond softly washing her. Humming as she scrubs soap into the deputy’s skin, washing away the dirt and crafting mess. Sudsy hands exploring Dahlia’s legs, thighs, stomach, arms, and back. Constantly nearing her more sensitive spots, but never touching them.
She’s not proud of the whine she lets out as Faith washes her back, somewhere between cleaning and massaging. Faith shampoos and conditions her hair, the sensation of fingers working over her scalp makes her let out a soft sigh. Once she’s cleaned, Faith gently helps her stand back up.
A soft white towel rubbed and fluffed over her body, all still completely innocent. Faith seeming to find some contentment in just babying Dahlia, which would be great if not for the cult stuff.
“You keep looking at me like you’re expecting something, silly,” Faith voice teases by Dahlia’s ear, breath ghosting over the wet skin. Heat flushes up Dahlia’s cheeks.
“Ugh.”
Faith only giggles before she finishes drying Dahlia off, maybe it’s the heat of the bath or just the drug running its course, but she’s starting to regain a bit more control over her limbs. She can curl and move her tingling fingers now, which is something.
“The Father let me pick out the dress for you to wear tonight, it’s going to look so pretty on you.”
“Ugh!”
Dahlia expects something like Faith’s favorite dress, delicate modest white lace and flowers. But, while it’s white and has some lace touches, it’s less modest. Thin little straps instead of long sleeves, the deep neckline scalloped in a way that shows little peeks of skin between her breasts, and a band of lace beneath her chest that her skin shows through. The entire dress reaching the middle of her thighs. She’s thankful the building they’re in seems to be well heated.
Faith smiles wide at Dahlia in the dress, reaching for a white bliss flower that’s been place in a vase near the sink. She tucks it back behind Dahlia’s ear, the fragrance tickling the deputy’s nose.
“Absolutely gorgeous.”
“I miss my pants.”
“C’mon now,,” Faith pulls her wrists out and Dahlia expects to just be lead again, but instead she grabs rope from under the sink and binds the deputy’s hands together, “just in case it wears off, can’t have you running off in the middle of dinner, now can we?”
“Yeah…that’d just be a shame.”
Dahlia is dragged out to what looks like a dining room, the table has a cloth strewn across it and some sort of centerpiece but that’s all. Faith brings her to one of the chairs and ties her ankle to the legs of it when she sits down.
“Be back in just a moment,” Faith murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of Dahlia’s head before stepping out.
There’s the soft sound of clattering and messing around in the kitchen. Her limbs are starting to tingle, feeling slowly coming back. She starts trying to rock back and forth in her chair, if she can somehow break the chair she can manage to get away. Dahlia tries bouncing and jostling herself, the chair starts to tilt back and she’s hopeful it will break under her when she falls back.
It doesn’t.
She’s just on the floor now.
And she’s pretty sure the dress has fallen in a way that’s showing more of her than she wants shown.
Dahlia cranes her head to the side; there’s a large stone fireplace and her breath catches in her throat at what’s in front of it. A Judge Wolf, it’s eyes now trained on her. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
It’s a trap, it’s all been a fucking trap just to leave with a fucking wolf to get teared apart. The large lumbering wolf stalks towards her and every muscle in her body tightens. She screams as it presses a wet nose against her throat, sniffing at her, no doubt preparing to rip it out.
“You just had to bring that mongrel here,” John’s voice rings out, “shoo, shoo.”
He shoos off the Judge Wolf like it’s a puppy and it listens, John then grabbing the back of her chair and placing it upright.
That tingling of movement coming back to her fingers has started to shoot up to her forearms, she can clench and tense the muscles there. Her toes have followed suit as well, she can now wiggle them freely.
“You’re allowed your damn cat,” Jacob grumbles, the absolute mountain of a man looks borderline ridiculous as he sets food out on the table. The gesture so domestic and tame for the sadistic soldier.
“Yes, but this is my home, Chanel lives here. Judge does not.”
“I don’t know which is worse. Naming your cat Chanel or naming a Judge Wolf, Judge.”
“The hell else am I supposed to call ‘em.”
“Chanel is a perfectly respectable name.”
“Two Seeds pissed off in one sentence, new record!”
“No fighting, this is a time of togetherness brothers,” Joseph chides as he walks in, helping place food on the table with Jacob.
“Yes, Joseph,” John immediately backs down and ducks his head in shame. Meanwhile Jacob just shrugs, unfussed.
Dahlia focuses on watching Judge, the Judge Wolf, though she doesn’t even bother to name any animals she befriends, so really who is she to well, judge. The wolf is bigger than most of them, but decidedly better behaved. All of them are trained, but the ones she’s encountered out in the Whitetails have been more feral, would have attacked her on sight. But this one, Jacob’s personal Judge Wolf seems to be more restrained, but she knows too well that it would likely take one cue for them to be ripping her apart.
“Hey, Judgey, you wanna chew through these ropes for me?” She waves her wrists before the animal; they make a snorting sound before laying back down in front of the fire. She’s slowly getting more and more mobility back.
“Really thought he’d help you?” Jacob looks at her like she’s stupid, humorless dickhead.
“Just like his owner, fuckin’ asshole.”
Jacob flicks the back of her ear, making her yelp, no doubt if it wasn’t for Joseph, he’d be doing a lot worse to her. Hell, if it wasn’t for Joseph’s insistence that she’s their soulmate…or something like that, Jacob would have probably killed her by now.
“Jacob,” Joseph says in a low, stern tone.
“What?” A shit eating grin pulls at his lips, the gesture boyish and almost cute despite who’s doing it. It’s rare that Jacob shows many signs of enjoying, well, anything. But, the rare times she’s seen all the Seeds in one place, he seems infinitely more at peace and happy.
Joseph just shakes his head, his own gentle smile on his face, choosing not to scold his older brother any further.
Faith sits down on one side of Dahlia, John on the other, Joseph across from her, and Jacob beside him. Joseph’s intense blue gaze is already on her and she stares down at the plate that’s been place in front of her. She hates meeting his eyes, it’s weird.
“We’re so happy to have you here, Deputy Hale.”
The Seeds despite everything, still don’t know her first name, only knowing her last name thanks to their brief encounters prior to the reaping. Most of them settle for calling her deputy or some asinine nickname, Joseph is the only one who ever uses her last name and it always feels so strange. It’s never said with derision or vitriol the same way Deputy is constantly being growled or barked out at her over her radio. There’s always a warmth, a familiarity, that feels so out of place given everything that’s occurred. It makes her happy and uncomfortable all at once, so she reacts the best way she knows how.
“I’m very unhappy to be here.”
“It’s important to celebrate with your family,” John says, his hand coming down to rest on her thigh, just beneath the dress. His touch is warm, too warm, her stomach clenches, her heart flips, and her skin crawls. A mess of disgust and desire, she doesn’t want to deal with.
“I already was, at the Rye’s house, when you so rudely interrupted.” It’s the truth, the resistance becoming her family over the past several months. But her intention isn’t a declaration of her familial love for them, she wants to piss off John. They want to drag her into this fucked up family dinner, she’s going to do her damnedest to ruin it.
John’s hand squeezes tight, fingers sinking into the flesh of her thigh and she sees his jaw clench. Anger boiling up in his bright blue eyes, he leans in closer, nose nearly touching her own.
“Those sinners are not your family; we’re your family and you will come to accept that, sooner or later.”
“If I was a member of your family, I’d blow my brains out.”
“John, this is not the time to indulge in your sins,” Joseph warns him, and John lets go of her thigh, the skin still warm where his touch lingered.
“I’m sorry, Joseph.”
“The deputy will come to see the truth in time, we must guide her with love and patience.”
“Love and patience,” she parrots back in a mocking tone, Joseph gaze is stern and disappointed, she grins. One of these days she’s going to wear through his patience and actually piss him off.
“Holidays such as Christmas has become corrupted and commercialized by the modern world.”
Joseph starts to speak as he serves food and she can’t help but groan, waiting for another spiel about how technology is the devil and Thomas Edison was a witch. Granted he was an asshole idea thief.
“As a society, we’ve strayed from the real purpose of celebration, focusing on consumption. My family is one of the few, who truly understand that these times are meant to appreciate each other, to celebrate that the Lord has seen fit for us to let us share these moments with one another, after years of spending them apart.”
Dahlia bites her lip, staring at the plate that being piled high with food. She read the Book of Joseph, an attempt to better know her enemy. But sadly, with knowledge came empathy. She knows what the Seeds have been through, how their family was torn apart. As fucked up messes as they are, she can understand that the holidays and time they spend together would feel so much more important to them.
A part of her feels bad, this is important for them. And for the most part, they genuinely believe in the shit coming out of their mouths, she thinks. The only one not convinced she’s meant to be with them, part of their family, or whatever is Jacob. But he wants Joseph and John to be happy, which sadly means encouraging this. So, to them this is genuinely an attempt to gather the whole family. Like parents trying to get their moody teenager to have Christmas dinner with them.
However, they still kidnapped her and have hurt countless people.
Once food is on everyone’s plates, Joseph takes his seat again, she’s still avoiding his intense stare.
“Let us say grace.” He joins hands with Faith and Jacob, Jacob and John join hands as well. Leaving a tied-up Dahlia as the kink in the chain. She raises an eyebrow.
“I mean, I can’t be blamed for this.” Though, god knows they try to blame her for everything else.
John settles for wrapping his hand around her wrist and Faith follows suit on the other side. The Seed family bows their head for prayer and Dahlia stares down at her food.
She’s reminded of days sat at the table, her stepfather thanking god for the meal while she was begging any god listening to give him a heart attack. Though, somehow, she has decidedly less anger and vitriol towards the Seeds. Her thoughts more centered around getting them in a facility with good mental health resources.
Joseph’s words drift in one ear and out the other. Being nice enough to not interrupt doesn’t mean she’s willing to pay attention. Its thanks, for letting him have this blessed day after enduring so many trials, or something to that effect. She’s busy pulling and tugging one of her ankles, slowly loosening the ropes around that ankle.
“Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Happy to see there’s no mac n’ cheese, heard how well that went last time…”
“That mac n’ cheese was perfect, Nick is just dramatic,” John blusters, face flushing red and she can’t help but laugh, just as she’s slipping one foot from her binds. Thankful she was tucked in close enough to the table that neither of the youngest Seeds can peer down to see her legs.
“Guess I know who’s to blame for that one.”
“We usually don’t allow John in the kitchen,” Joseph admits, a soft teasing smile on his lips. No longer The Father, leader of Eden’s Gate, just an older brother teasing his baby brother.
“Be better off letting Judge cook for you,” Jacob comments, grinning at his flustered younger brother.
“I can cook when I want to!” John tries desperately to defend his cooking skills.
Dahlia’s laughter only gets stronger, belly aching. Despite his flustered attempts to defend his mac and cheese, John’s smiling. Jacob and Joseph chuckling while Faith is giggling. All during which Dahlia’s using her free foot to help work the ropes off of her other ankle, loosening them.
“Awwww, poor little Johnny can’t even make macaroni, so sad.”
“You know, dep-yoo-tee.” He tips her chin up with his fingers.
“Must you say it like that.” She slips her other ankle out and resists the urge to kick John, she’s not ready to escape, not yet, not with everyone around. It’d be too dangerous, probably.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your taunting is just your way of showing you care.”
“Well thank god, even you’re not that stupid.”
“John, stop hogging the deputy’s attention,” Faith says, and Dahlia can hear the pout in the older woman’s voice.
“I’m not hogging anything; I’m simply having a conversation with her.”
“You’re literally forcing her to look at you and no one else.”
John’s jaw clenches, he can’t really argue with that, now can he. The youngest brother of the Seeds reluctantly let’s go of her chin.
“Was that so hard?” Faith taunts her brother, playing with Dahlia’s hair.
The Junior deputy could probably escape right now. There are forks and knives available that can be weapons, she can’t out strength Jacob, but she can outrun him and he’s unlikely to trigger her brainwashing when the only people here for her to kill is his family.
But she doesn’t.
She decides, instead, to try to eat, since the food doesn’t seem to be killing anyone else and the smell is making her stomach growl. All she had at the Rye’s party was sweets and she’s not sure how long she was out for, so she might as well eat. That makes sense, right?
Besides, there will be better opportunities for escape, they’ll leave her alone at some point.
Her wrists are bound, and she finds herself struggling to managed to bring to fork to her mouth. But the hunk of turkey and stuffing just falls to the floor, Dahlia glaring at it.
Judge is there in a second, munching up her failure to feed herself.
“Jacob, get your mutt,” John says, trying to get Judge to leave, but he’s not listening this time.
“Leave Judge be, he’s my favorite living thing in this room,” Dahlia tells John watching the wolf finish up the table scraps, before placing his large fuzzy head on her thigh. Unnaturally bright silver eyes gazing up at her, she reaches down with her bound hands and gently scratches the rough fur behind its ear. To her surprise it doesn’t growl or pull away from the affection, instead leaning into it.
“The Judge Wolves are killing machines that run on pure instinct, not puppies for you to cuddle,” Jacob warns her, voice low and gravelly, but there’s a small grin on his lips.
“He sure isn’t turning down the ear scritches.”
“Here, deputy, it’d be easiest if I helped feed you,” Faith offers, scooping up food on a fork and holding it up delicately to Dahlia’s mouth. Her cheeks flush red, something about it just feeling ridiculous.
“I could probably, just.” Dahlia tries to take the fork from Faith’s hand, uncomfortable with the idea of being fed. Faith gently smacks away her hands.
“Don’t be silly, here.”
Dahlia reluctantly accepts the bite of food, it’s really good, she can help but smile as she swallows down the mouthful of perfectly cooked turkey and potatoes.
“Holy shit, that’s really good.”
“Language,” Joseph chides and she snorts out a laugh, his tone reminding her of Virgil.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Jacob grumbles, his mouth full of food, is he the one who cooked it?
“Ugh, your wolves have better manners than you,” John criticizes his older brother.
“Fuck off.”
“Language.” Joseph is smiling as he chides them and Dahlia hates that she is too, they’re just a family giving each other shit, enjoying each other’s company. Another time and place she’d be envious, wishing she had a family like them.
“Here, try this,” John says, offering her another forkful of food.
“I was feeding the deputy, John,” Faith grumbles when Dahlia’s attention is once again stolen away from the youngest brother, Dahlia happily accepting the food.
“I’m allowed to feed her as well, Faith.”
“Not when you’ve been stealing her attention this entire time, here, deputy.” Faith turns Dahlia’s face just as she swallows down the food, already shoveling more food into her mouth.
“Actually, you’d probably like this more.” She’s still chewing when John retorts and is shoving more food into her mouth.
This continues on and on, Faith and John tugging her attention back and forth, shoving food in her mouth. Judge licking up any bit that falls. Dahlia is struggling to choke down the inordinate amounts of food continuously being shoved in her face. It’s ridiculous and she finds herself laughing too, eventually leaving her a coughing and hacking mess when mingled with the food.
“You fucking choked her,” Jacob says, chuckling and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“See what you did, Faith.”
“I was attempting to take care of her, you were the one being greedy.”
“You’re like two little kids fighting over a toy,” Dahlia manages to say once she’s cleared her windpipe of stuffing.
“Don’t let John fool you, he’s not as young at heart or in reality as he’d like you to believe.” There’s a catty smile across Faith’s face, mischief in the glare she throws John’s way.
“Are you accusing me of being a liar? That’s rich, given your history, sister.”
“Jacob, why don’t you take Faith and John with you to start washing the dishes?” Joseph suggests, clearly trying to end the bickering before it escalates. Jacob groans and Dahlia realizes that yes, the meal is over, John and having still managed to feed themselves while fighting over feeding her.
“Come on, ya brats,” the oldest Seed tells them, as he starts to pick up dirty plates. Faith and John reluctantly follow suit.
“I am not a brat,” John attempts to defend himself a final time as the three of them take the dishes back to the kitchen to be washed. Leaving Dahlia and Joseph alone at the table, even Judge having left to follow the others.
Intense blue eyes, on her like always. She stares down at her lap, now would be a good time to make a break for it. Joseph isn’t all that physically intimidating to her, but she doesn’t do it. She doesn’t now why. But she doesn’t do that. A shift of movement catches her attention and she watches, ready to bolt if need be, as Joseph makes his way towards her.
“What are you?”
Joseph shifts her chair to the side, and she tenses, he’ll see that her ankles are no longer tied up. He pulls up the chair that she’s now facing, moving it as close as he can because he’s Joseph Seed and personal space is a concept he’s never heard of. The Father of Eden’s Gate sits down before her, close enough that their knees touch.
“I probably let that go on longer than I should have, I apologize. It can be hard not to let them indulge in their more childish impulses…after everything my family has gone through.”
One of his hands works into her hair, cupping the back of her skull and gently bringing their foreheads together.
“Yeah…”
“I’m sure you can understand that…thank you for staying.”
“You didn’t exactly give me much choice.”
Something between a chuckle and a huff of air reverberates in his chest, the sound rich and warm. She curses herself for the smile that tugs at her lips.
“You and I both know you’ve escaped far stronger binds… thank you for giving my family this night.”
“You do know that as soon as you go to help them, I’m gonna escape, right?” She meets his eyes, as difficult as it may be for here. He sighs and she can see concern darkening his eyes. Moments like these, she has to remind herself of the pain, the suffering he’s caused, otherwise…
“I know that you think the path you’re on is the righteous one, that you’re saving people. But, the time will come where you’ll see how misguided you truly are…”
“I-”
“And when that day comes, you will crumble and fall under the weight of just how many people you damned with your ignorance and sin. But, just like New Eden, something beautiful will emerge from your collapse.”
She clenches her jaw and Joseph stands up, hand still on her head as he gently kisses the top of her head. The soft compassion of it conflicting with the weight of his words. He starts to walk back to the kitchen to help with the dishes.
“You can’t ever just talk like a normal fuckin’ person, can you?!”
