#c: elliot honeysett

[florbelles]

ELLIOT HONEYSETT-SEED. THE HELLHOUND OF EDEN’S GATE.

i do not want to be a person. i want to be unbearable. ( anne carson )

— for @honeysides xx

#spiritually all nine of these are the daddy shirt #TY FOR LETTING ME PLAY WITH THIS BABY #c: elliot honeysett #fc5 #other ocs #*

[honeysidesarchived]

× WITCHING HOUR — FAR CRY 5

( JUST TO LOSE CONTROL, JUST ONCE )

#* #c: elliot honeysett #x: death keep off; i am your enemy #aes: witching hour #far cry 5 #fc5 fic #fc5 oc #q

[honeysidesarchived]

DEPUTY ELLIOT HONEYSETT, BORN NOV 27TH ✣ FAR CRY 5

IS IT A GOD INSIDE YOU, GIRL?

happy birthday to my favorite tormented harbinger of the apocalypse ♡

#* #c: elliot honeysett #elli bday spam #far cry 5 #fc5 oc #loving my girl extra extra hard 2day!!!!! #miss u baby sorry i left u in killzone limbo for like 2 months

[honeysidesarchived]

iv. just like magic ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “i can’t stop picturing you with him” + “you belong to me” + new year’s eve prompt “they were so distracted, they even missed the clock striking midnight” because i’m a GREMLIN and didn’t get your request for that done until NOW requested by @lilwritingraven

words: 2.5k

warnings: oh, u know. naughty words, john and elliot steamy make out in a cramped bathroom. i think that’s really all. oh, and elliot has an embarrassingly poor memory when it comes to men who aren’t john.

It’s fifteen to midnight on New Year’s Eve, and Elliot Honeysett has no one to kiss.

Well, that’s not entirely true; she has a date, who is almost certainly anticipating a clock-strikes-midnight kiss, and in a pinch she can convince Joey for a midnight smooch so that she’s not standing around like a big fucking idiot at party in the city where she’s floundering like a fish out of water.

I shouldn’t have come, she thinks idly, finger dragging at the rim of her glass where most of the alcohol remains untouched. She’s too stressed out to drink. There are two—two—instances in which she wants to drink herself to oblivion, and as she neither listening to her mother talk about the timeline for grandbabies nor has her abandonment-prone father cropped back up, so her stress only makes her crave sobriety more. Can’t be spinning out of control, can we, if we can help it?

In fact, her date is making eyes at her from across the room, and Joey is somewhere out of immediate reach, and the boy—Dakota? Maybe?—is very nice, he’s very nice, and—

(And that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it, that Dalton (???) is nice, but in a way that feels cloying, and his eyes are two degrees the wrong shade of blue and he keeps his facial hair close-trimmed and he doesn’t have a single lick of ink on his body, and these are significant problems that immediately remind her of the person that she wants to be kissing, which makes him so, so, so unattractive.)

—and he’s making his way across the house right that second, and Elliot doesn’t want to explain to him in a categorized list why she actually can’t kiss him (“Do you want it alphabetical, or more like…chronological?”), so she turns on her heel like she didn’t just make eye contact with him and beelines it out of the living room.

It’s a house party. That’s all it is. It’s a house party in the city, because Elliot and Joey are spending the holidays in Georgia with her mother and Joey said that she’d fucking die if they had to spend New Year’s Eve listening to Scarlet lament the lack of “good help” available “these days”. As if she has ever had anything less than pristine house staff.

So they came out to a house party. And Joey found her a nice boy, so that she can have someone to kiss at midnight.

And she doesn’t want to kiss him at all.

She moves so fast from the living room that she runs headfirst into a firm, solid body, promptly spilling the entirety of her drink all over the poor soul that had the distinct misfortune of being in her path. For a second, Elliot opens her mouth to apologize—sorry, so sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry, how much was that shirt, I can buy you a new one—but then her eyes land on that face and she promptly snaps her mouth shut.

“Jesus Christ, do you have any idea how much this—”

John is looking down at his shirt, drenched in vodka and something else, when his eyes finally meet hers. And then all irritation is wiped from his face—maybe not from his eyes, entirely—and a wicked grin splits across his expression. It immediately sends her heart fluttering, and she thinks maybe it’s just because she likes eyes exactly his shade of blue.

“Ell,” he greets her, his voice a slick purr, “you could have just texted if you wanted to get in touch.”

“I didn’t know it was you, John,” Elliot snaps, “and I wasn’t trying to spill my drink on your stupid shirt.” And then: “You look like a fuckboy in it, anyway.”

“It’s the Lacoste you picked out, last summer.”

“And you thought I didn’t pick it out to make fun of you?” she prompts, meticulously uninterested. It’s a careful facade which must be upheld at all times, of course—not caring about John Seed. “That’s very cute.”

The brunette fans the shirt away from his body, grinning at her, and the expression reaches straight to his eyes—blinks at her through those dark lashes, and for a second she forgets that she broke up with him two months ago because he’s insufferably full of himself, constantly impatient, and hates her job.

“Can’t believe you accosted me,” he tsks, undoing the top buttons of the polo.

Elliot says, “Don’t be a fucking baby. You wasted my whole drink.”

Pulling the shirt off over his head—because of course he fucking would, of course he doesn’t mind peeling it off right there, the narcissistic motherfucker—John slings the shirt across his shoulder and takes a step toward her. There’s already so little space between them, having been in close enough proximity to spill almost all of her drink on him instead of the floor, which means that he’s suddenly invading all of her personal space with that expensive cologne and the faint scent of vodka and—ah, yes. It had been a vodka soda she was drinking.

“Get you a new one,” John offers in a sleek rumble.

For a second, her brain short-circuits: John Seed, exceptionally handsome and insufferably egotistical, crowding up against her at a house party in an expensive neighborhood of Atlanta, fifteen (now ten) minutes to midnight on New Year’s Eve, is her greatest weakness. Mostly, it’s that he’s shirtless, but the other things help too.

“With someone,” Elliot manages out, clearing her throat. “I mean—I’m here. With someone.”

John arches a brow loftily and opens his mouth, certainly about to reply that he doesn’t see anyone with her right now, when a hand glides onto the small of her back and she sees David smiling at her, bright and handsome and just. So sweet.

“You tryin’ to start your own party or something?” her date asks her amusedly, eyes glittering with warmth. He leans down and presses a kiss to her temple, closer to the top of her cheekbone. He’s been doing that all night. Inching closer and closer to her mouth with his shy little kisses.

“N-No,” Elliot says quickly. “John, this is—my…date.”

Dalton? David? Dominic.

A moment lays, suspended between the party of three, where someone is clearly waiting for Elliot to introduce her date whose name she cannot remember for the life of her—and then she doesn’t. So her date laughs and picks up the slack easily and holds his hand out to John.

“Daniel,” he says, and Elliot quickly makes a mental note of that. “It’s nice to meet you, John.”

“Likewise,” John replies, though he’s not nearly as enthused as before. “Daniel’s a biblical name, isn’t it?”

Elliot groans. “Don’t.” When her date looks at her inquisitively, she sighs. “All of John’s siblings are named after Biblical figures.”

“That’s fun,” Daniel says, even though it isn’t. “How do you two know each other?”

“Dated,” John offers up, and as he goes to say, “Long-term, too,” Elliot interjects, “just for a wink,” and they look at each other.

Daniel clears his throat. He stares at Elliot and John for a moment before he goes, “Your glass is empty. Can I get you another drink?”

“Please,” she eeks out, amidst the burning humiliation that comes with having absolutely no control over the situation, and passes him her glass. Fuck, where is Joey? She can dig her own grave, but she’ll need someone to dump the dirt over her once she climbs in. “Thank you, David.”

He gives her another long, searching look, one that she doesn’t quite understand the intention of, before he walks off with the glass in his hand. After two seconds of him being gone, John is very clearly trying to stifle his laughter.

“What?” Elliot grinds out. “If you’re about to say something narcissistic and cruel, John, he’s very handsome and I—”

“You called him the wrong name,” he says, gleefully.

“No I didn’t,” she replies instantly, but then the mortification washes over her, panic setting in. His name was Daniel. Not David. “No,” she says anyway, again, “I—said…Daan—”

“David,” the brunette clarifies. His eyes are bright. “You said David. His name is—and we can say it together, this time, with feeling—”

Elliot sucks in a sharp little breath. “Fuck you.”

“I’d love it,” John replies as quick as instinct, voice pitching low, “more than anything.”

And there it is—wretched, vicious man, sinking his claws right back into her just like that, like it’s nothing, like she’s completely incapable of holding her own against a man she broke up with.

Her face flushes scarlet. She doesn’t even have the excuse of being drunk. Where the fuck is Joey?

“Elliot,” John starts, but she clears her throat.

“Should wash out your shirt,” she says abruptly, snatching it from his shoulders and gripping it in her now-empty fist, “otherwise it’s going to be sticky and you’re going to bitch about it and send me an invoice.”

And she turns on her heel and marches to the nearest bathroom. Anything to get some space between her and John, anything to get her a little fucking breathing room. This whole thing had been a mistake from the get-go; she shouldn’t have ever agreed to coming to this party. But Joey is making out with a pretty red-head, she sees on her way to the bathroom, and it’s her duty, as a best friend wingman, to not end the festivities early.

Of course, taking the shirt to the bathroom had been a bad idea, because while it provides her a temporary reprieve from John’s closeness, he’s soon sliding into the bathroom behind her and shutting the door.

“Anyway, I’ve been having a great time,” Elliot says, which isn’t true, turning the water on cold and running her fingers under it for a minute even though she doesn’t need to. “He’s very nice. And—”

“I’m glad you’re here,” John interrupts, and he’s crowding up behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror, and he’s shirtless, and it’s so fucking unfair. “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“We—” She clears her throat, sticking the shirt under the water. “Broke up.”

“So you’re going to ignore me?”

“Well I work,” she snaps. Her fingers scrub the polo uselessly. “I have a fucking job. And, I’ll remind you, I’m here with someone, so if you want to give me a little more—”

“Ell,” he murmurs, his voice low, his mouth against her ear, “are you trying to make me jealous?”

Yes, everything in her says as his hands cage her in against the sink, just the way that he knows she likes. “I’m not that petty.”

“It’s working.” He makes a low, despondent sound, the timbre of it rumbling against her skin, and it’s so fucking ludicrous, how can someone be so attractive when they’re complaining?

Elliot slaps her hand down on the faucet to stop the water and turns around, steeling herself against him. “I’m not—”

“I can’t stop picturing you with him, and I hate it,” John says, their foreheads touching and their noses brushing—and it’s so unfair, so fucking unfair, he is so attractive and she misses the way that he kisses her. She’s fucking weak and she hates it. “Is that what you want, hellcat? A nice boy named Daniel to mix you a drink and kiss you at midnight?”

“Fuck,” Elliot says, about to say You, but he’s kissing her. His hands immediately go to her hips through the flimsy black silk of her dress and he hoists her onto the sink’s counter so that he can sidle between her legs, closer closer closer, always discontent with how much of her skin is within reach.

He kisses her like he’s hungry—a man, starving, for her, Elliot Nobody Honeysett, backwater hicktown Deputy with nary a designer anything to her name, but he’s hungry for her all the same. He kisses her, and from there on out it’s No Man’s Land: there’s no Joey, no crowd of people, no Nice Boy Dalton (Daniel) to make sure she’s behaving herself, and so she knots her fingers in his hair and kisses him back.

Stupid, she thinks, even when her lips part for him almost immediately, especially when she moans into his kiss because his teeth drag on her lip. Stupid, stupid fucking girl, you can’t, you can’t.

But she is. John’s breath fans hot and silky against her neck and she feels her lashes flutter, his hands sliding up under the hem of her dress, and it’s so fucking loud—loud, and hot, and the sink started running again because she bumped it, that neither she nor John pay any attention to the countdown starting outside.

“I don’t think you do,” John rumbles, voice thick and laden with desire. “Want a good boy. Do you, Ell?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she grinds out, “and kiss me, fuckface.”

He grins against her mouth and yanks her hips against his. It’s tight; the bathroom’s small, meant to be a quick stop, and certainly in a house like this there’s a bigger master bathroom that would be much more comfortable, if they could just—

Stop, she thinks furiously, stop mapping out a route to get fucked in.

A whimper pitches out of her when John slides his arm under her and hauls her closer still. Her fingers dig into his bare shoulders, and he says, “Love when you make that sound, Ell, so fucking good—no good boy for you, isn’t that right?”

“No,” she gasps obediently against his mouth. Later, she will think back on the absurdity of the moment: she has a perfectly nice boy waiting to kiss her come midnight waiting outside, and she and John are making out like fucking teenagers in a tiny, cramped bathroom.

Yes, later, she will think back on the absurdity of the moment, and feel a great deal of shame. For now, she thinks only of John, and the way he grips her hips with his hands until she moans and the way he says, “You belong to me,” and how if anyone else said that shit, they’d get clocked in the fucking face, but with John it’s—

Different.

It’s always different.

The whole thing is all very distracting. John, bunching her skirt up around her hips so that he can get her closecloseclose, ever craving her touch, and her ever craving to be touched; John, breathing her name against her mouth; John, John, John, doing anything, doing literally anything is so distracting and all-consuming that it’s like there’s no oxygen left in the room anymore for her to breathe.

“Fucking missed you,” he sighs, kissing her palm, the inside of her wrist. “You know I can’t get enough of you. So tell me you missed me, too—”

Went to wash out his shirt, she’ll tell David, and we got distracted.

That’s a good way to put it. We’re distracted, Elliot thinks, gliding her hands along his shoulders and kissing him again. That’s all. Just distracted.

They’re so distracted, they even miss the clock striking midnight.

But at least she got her kiss.

#archive q #facelift q #spilled ink #x: death keep off; i am your enemy #no cult au #c: elliot honeysett #c: john seed #john seed/oc #john seed/female deputy #never forget elliot getting her date's name wrong in the most offensive way possible #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic

[honeysidesarchived]

tagged by the lovely @indorilnerevarine to play this fun little game! thank you dear! xx

tagging: @faithchel @shallow-gravy @vasiktomis @lilwritingraven @scungilliwoman @jackiesarch @preachercuster @shellibisshe @raisinghellinotherworlds @ma-sulevin @johnnycranes @belorage @heroofpenamstan @adelaidedrubman @hoesephseed @gamer-purgatory @queennymeria andddd anyone else who wants to play! head empty so if i missed you--take this as the indication to do it!

× VARYA N. ASTAKHOVA, birds of prey

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (sweet)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections, plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY:

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

PROFANITY:

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY - arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT - straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS.

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

× ELLIOT S. HONEYSETT, far cry 5

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS - head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections, plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY:

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

PROFANITY:

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY - arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

THIS OR THAT - straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS.

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never.

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

#tag games #thank u sm for the tag bb! #c: elliot honeysett #c: varya astahkova #i was gonna do euphie but. tired brain

[honeysidesarchived]

John’s thumb swept along the one that stretched over her hip bone. He hummed, low and hungry, into her skin. He might have been coming down from his high, but it didn’t seem to be pushing him into sleep; he was enjoying it, the gentle careening to sobriety.

And maybe tomorrow she would regret telling him. Maybe tomorrow she would feel dirty for the way that she killed Kian, instead of intoxicated with her own magic. Maybe, maybe, maybe—but that was a thing to think about when the time came, and just like she had done everything else about herself that she hadn’t liked, she would strangle it and move on.

John turned her around so that he could pull her against him. He said, “I thought so,” like he had recognized it in her, and she thought about that dream. Just like me, holding her blood-covered hands in his. You’re just like me.

ancient names, chapter 17

tumblr wanted to fuck with my post of this piece of art on my old blog, so i decided to give this a fresh post on here. still one of my most favorite commissions to date that i've gotten from @minilev especially considering how incredible of an experience it was to write ancient names in its entirety AND have this particular scene happening!!!! ugh y'all i still am not OVER the scars, the steam, literally every detail in this is absolutely stunning and perfect. ♡♡♡ tumblr leave my naughty post alone

#far cry 5 #john seed/female deputy #far cry 5 oc #c: elliot honeysett #c: john seed #x: death keep off; i am your enemy #lemon #(i think that's the tag that stops tumblr from blacklisting it) #anyway sorry for anyone who didn't want the tiddies on the dash but #writing chapter 15 of witching hour has me thinking about this scene basically nonstop #miss the magic of them being absolutely feral about each other #: ' ) #arts for me #archive q #gonna slap that tag on since it's technically a repost! #tw blood

[honeysidesarchived]

tagged by @scungilliwoman to make some gorls in this cute little maker! thanks bb 🦋

tagging @shallow-gravy @vasiktomis @henbased @lilwritingraven @faithchel @heroofpenamstan @belorage @jackiesarch @jamesbvchanans @blissfulalchemist @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe and anyone else who wants to play! pls tag me if i forgot to @ you it's because my brain is swiss cheese 💕

VARYA ASTAKHOVA // BIRDS OF PREY

ELLIOT HONEYSETT // FAR CRY 5

#tag games #c: varya astakhova #c: elliot honeysett

[florbelles]

— ELLIOT HONEYSETT. FAR CRY 5.

for @honeysides xx

#happy birthday to she #may she have canned wine in abundance #c: elliot honeysett #fc5 #other ocs #*

[honeysidesarchived]

🌈 A COLOR I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE ▹ elliot + teal

too many war wounds and not enough wars / too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores / too many sharks and not enough blood in the waves / you know i give my lover a four-letter name

— requested by @lilwritingraven & @smithandrogers ♡

#* #moodboard prompts #far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 deputy #c: elliot honeysett #i almost went with white for foreboding reasons but #it was too hard kjhdsjkd #q

[honeysidesarchived]

“ let's play nice for one night, ey?” For Elliot and John?

HIIIIII LYDIA thank u sm for the prompt <3 trying to get less caught up on word count and just enjoy them so i can do the thing that sparks joy (writing) so i really appreciate it!!

john/elliot + "let's play nice for one night, ey?" from this prompt list! since this is the month of spooky scary skeletons, i decided to set this in my as yet unnnamed vampire au--or, tentatively titled, "elliot is a human deputy who is just out here trying her fucking best but this stupid sleazy vampire real estate lawyer won't leave her the fuck alone OR pay his fucking tickets". still workshopping it but i am feeling p good about the length of that title

rating: m for mature just because they're stupid ig

warnings: naughty language, mentions of a previous ~fling, vampires making puns. or just puns in general. i am sorry

words: 1.6k

"Deputy, I am begging you to exert a single ounce of emotional intelligence."

The clock's hand sits at precisely 6:28 pm--two minutes before her shift ends and the window for paying tickets closes until the morning again. The fluorescents of the Sheriff's office flicker once and then settle, buzzing absently in the back of her skull and reminding her that her Exedrin's about to wear off. If not for time passing, it would be because John Seed's presence at the doorstep of her workplace kicks her metabolism into high-fucking-gear.

"You should hit that open mic night at the Spread Eagle, John," Elliot drawls. "That's a real funny line. I bet Mary May'd get a kick out of it."

The brunette standing at the doorway lets out a single, sharp exhale through his nose. His eyes narrow. In most cases, Elliot thinks, she would be more worried about a pissed off vampire storming around outside of the office, but in this--as in most things--John Seed provides little but comedic relief.

"I'm trying to pay my tickets," he reiterates for what is about the fifth time in the last ten minutes, "which you so lovingly wrote for me."

"We've got a very different memory of how the writing up of your noise violations went."

He flashes a grin. The curve of pronounced canines catches fluorescents. "A love note, if you will. If you wanted my attention, Deputy, you needn't drive all the way out and write up these silly tickets. You got it just fine the other night, after all." His head cocks to the side. "I can taste your yearning from here."

The clock hand ticks to the :29 mark. Elliot sucks her teeth. She's not sure what's worse; the fact that once last week she'd crumbled on her stupid caveman desires and let John Seed fuck her, or that he's a vampire making jokes about tasting. She'd never met a vampire that could withhold from making one taste-engineered joke. It was always I can taste your yearnings and don't you just want to take a bites?

Briefly, she looks at the papers clutched loosely in John's fist. "Lots of love notes you've got there."

He waves them, ruefully. "And all from you. Now, if you'll..."

John gestures at the doorway. Elliot cocks a brow at him.

"Deputy," John says, once again gesturing. "Elliot. Miss Honeysett."

"John."

"Let's play nice for one night, ey?"

"Playing nice," she corrects him, "would be not getting multiple noise complaints because your blood-sucking-buddies keep the neighbors up at night. Seriously, you guys are supposed to have enhanced hearing, how can you not be aware of yourselves?"

"Oh, come on."

"Are you going to pay your tickets, Mr. Seed?" Elliot idles.

"Well," he bites out between his teeth, "if you would be so kind as to invite me in?"

Elliot blows hot air through her mouth. The clock hand ticks to the :30 mark. She shrugs.

"Sorry," she replies, "no can do. I'm off the clock."

"What?"

"Cashier's office is closed now, too," Elliot adds, pulling her jacket on and unclipping her name tag. She smiles prettily. "But you can come back tomorrow morning."

"Tomo--you know that I can't," John seethes. "The sun is staying out way longer than it should be this time of year! And these tickets are due--"

"I know when they're due, John," she replies serenely, pressing her thumb to the little clock-out button until it thanks her doing so in its cheerful robot voice. "I wrote them."

"Then--then let me just pay them!"

"Sorry," she repeats, pulling her keys out , "fresh out of emotional intelligence to be able to make that call."

She's about to close the door in his face--and leave out the back, promptly--when she hears someone clear their throat behind her. She turns to see Whitehorse standing there; his mouth is downturned in a frown, the handlebar mustache somehow making his disapproval more pronounced.

"Evening, Sheriff," John greets, chipper as ever. "Deputy Honeysett was just locking me out from paying my tickets."

Elliot shoots him a glare. Whitehorse sighs.

She says, "I'm off the clock." And then: "Sir."

"Just let the man pay his damn tickets, Honeysett," Whitehorse says. "I've been hearin' him whine and complain all night."

"I've only been here twenty minutes," John defends.

"Really? Could've swore it's been an eternity, Mr. Seed," Whitehorse sighs over his shoulder, sauntering up to the door. "You gonna lock up when you leave, Dep?"

Elliot grimaces. "Yes, sir."

"Great. Don't set the alarm. Pratt's already tripped it this month, and he about does it every time he works night."

She watches her boss make his way out to the parking lot, easing past John and fishing his keys out of his pocket. John smiles at her.

"Sooooo..."

Elliot heaves a sigh. "Come in."

He's practically buoyant as he slips in through the door, the fluorescents washing him in an immediate glow that screams undead. She'd only been working in Hope County for a year, but it had been the longest fucking year of her life, dealing with John Seed and his fucking wacko monster brothers.

Swinging around the counter, she fishes the cashier's box out and sets it on the counter.

"Cash or check, John?"

"I've got my card with me."

"Sorry, I know that must have been confusing because I phrased it as a question, but I meant it as a statement." She narrows her eyes. "Cash or check. John."

As he sets the tickets down on the counter and pulls out his wallet, John says, "I am so glad we get this time together."

He holds out a wad of bills. He has not counted them to make sure they're the correct amount.

Elliot rolls her eyes. "Move back home, they said, you'll have less supernatural to deal with, they said. Biggest fucking pain in my ass this side of the Rockies."

She reaches to retrieve the bills over the counter. Before her fingers can reach the thing standing between her, some Chinese take out, and a six-pack of canned wine, John's other hand snatches hers.

The movement is so fast it's barely perceptible; immediately, animal instinct kicks in. She feels her pulse leap and she goes to jerk her hand out of his grip, but it stays rock solid. It's cold--and familiar, unfortunately.

"Oh, there's a little jump," John purrs. "Not scared of me, are you? After the lovely night we shared?"

Elliot feels her face go hot. The brunette seems only pleased by this--drinking it in, as the case may be. Oh, God. I'm getting infected by the vampire puns.

"You just startled me, you fuckhead," she replies tartly. "Now let go."

"I love how mean you get when you're trying to act like you don't want me." He releases his grip on her, watching the retraction of her hand hungrily, fixed on the pulse point beneath the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist. "What are you doing after this?"

Elliot rubs her wrist absently. It doesn't hurt; she just doesn't like the residual feel of his touch. "I'm about to be fucking staking you if you don't lay off."

"Oh, come on, it was all in good fun," he cajoles, leaning against the counter and pushing the pills into her hand. "Nothing but a little play between lovers?"

"Do not call me that," she hisses, fishing his tickets off of the counter. "Letting you fuck me one time because you somehow managed to appear slightly above average does not, by any means, make us lovers."

"But we could be." He grins. It's almost boyish.

"I think once was enough."

"Is this a test? I love tests. I'm very good at them. In fact--"

"You have to come back tomorrow," Elliot cuts in, putting the bills back in his hand. John blinks.

"What? But I--"

"I don't have change for all your big-man-bills," she deadpans, "and I can't run a credit card, before you ask. So do you have a checkbook?"

John narrows his eyes. "Do I look like I carry a checkbook around?"

"I don't know, do vampires have checking accounts?"

"Of course we--this is absurd! Just keep the change! I'll get fined again if--"

"No-can-do, Big Spender," she drawls, dropping the cash box below the counter again and locking the little cupboard door. "It'll throw the books off. Nancy'll have a fit. She's getting very tempestuous, in her old age."

Elliot walks around the counter. His tickets are still folded up in her hand. When she reaches where John is standing, indignant, she tucks them neatly into the v of his vest.

"Deputy," he grits out, "please take my money."

"John," Elliot sighs, "I am begging you to exert an ounce of emotional intelligence. I could never put Miss Nancy under such duress." She pats his shoulder and heads for the door, the bell clinging as she opens it. John is still standing there, at the counter, fisting the bills in his hand.

"You wanna lock up for me, baby?" she asks, voice honeyed, snapping his attention to her. "Gotta make sure you don't set the alarm. Pratt'll trip it."

"You're really going to make me come back again tomorrow?" He cocks his head to the side. "You must want me to fuck you that bad."

Elliot sighs, leaning up against the doorway. The night out is cold; at home, her take out is waiting to be eaten, her wine waiting to be drank, some stupid Halloween Hallmark moving waiting to get put on her television.

"Maybe," she replies after a minute. "Guess you'll have to come pay your fucking tickets to find out."

#spilled ink #john seed/female deputy #vampire!john seed #x: death keep off; i am your enemy #far cry 5 #fc5 #writing prompts #i did not proof read this we die like men #v: heads will roll #i was gonna write like a whole multi-chaptered vampire fic but like yknow #i just couldn't commit to the bit lol #thank you lydia for the prompt this was really fun to play with!!! #c: elliot honeysett

[honeysidesarchived]

tagged by my lovelies @earthmightiest @scungilliwoman @faithchel @blissfulalchemist @henbased @adelaidedrubman for this oc profile thingy! thanks my loves! elliot & varya lore under the cut and w spoilers abound.

tagging @shallow-gravy @vasiktomis @lilwritingraven @belorage @heroofpenamstan @jackiesarch @shellibisshe @strafethesesinners @romach and anyone else who wants to play!

GENERAL

name: elliot savannah honeysett

alias(es): hellcat, rookie/rook, ell, elli

gender: female

age: 25 (ancient names), 26 (witching hour)

birthdate: nov 27th

place of birth: hope county, mt

hometown: hope county, mt / weyfield, ga

spoken languages: english, Spanish

sexual preference: bisexual

occupation: junior deputy, harbinger of the apocalypse, mother of the antichrist, you get the pic

APPEARANCE

eye color: blue

hair color: blonde during ancient names, strawberry-blonde from an alright dye job come witching hour

height: 5'4"

scars: several webbings of gossamer scars along her thighs and hips, various bits and bobs from being a trouble child, WRATH on her sternum.

FAVOURITE

color: most any autumn colors, but army green is among her favorite.

hair color: brunette.

eye color: brown

song: mama said knock you out - ll cool j

food: lemon bars (scarlet honeysett recipe only)

drink: moscow mules, extra lime juice

HAVE THEY..

passed university: nope lmao

had sex: yes

had sex in public: ...yes

gotten pregnant: ............yes

kissed a boy: yes

kissed a girl: yes (s/o joey)

gotten tattoos: not yet

gotten piercings: yes, ears

been in love: unfortunately

stayed up for more than 24 hours: apocalypse times babey

ARE THEY...

a virgin: no

a cuddler: yes and no. don't touch her, but also if you don't touch her rn she's going to come unglued

a kisser: intimately

scared easily: i mean she's kind of perpetually in a state of fight or flight but w/e

jealous easily: not easily, no

trustworthy: there is no better person to have in your corner

dominant: y...yeah

submissive: can be!

in love: unfortunately

single: no

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/assault)

have they harmed themselves: yes, before the events of her far cry 5 canon; all of the scars on her thighs and hips are self-harm scars from after mason.

have they thought about suicide: no.

have they attempted suicide: no.

wanted to kill someone: can and has

have/had a job: yes

have any fear(s): being alone.

FAMILY

siblings: none (that she's aware of--ambrose you fucker)

parents: scarlet honeysett (mother, nee graves), ambrose honeysett ("""father""")

children: on the way!

significant other: john seed

pets: boomer, eventually i think she deserves cheeseburger but we'll see how we get there

GENERAL

name: varya nikitichna astakhova

alias(es): varushka, v, la madonna

gender: female

age: 25

birthdate: june 5th (gemini are we surprised)

place of birth: saint-petersburg, russia

hometown: saint-petersburg, russia

spoken languages: russian, english, spanish

sexual preference: bisexual

occupation: wifey in the sheets, crime mommy in the streets

APPEARANCE

eye color: dark brown

hair color: black/lightens a bit in the summer

height: 5'6"

scars: numerous scattered throughout her body (shout out nikita)

FAVOURITE

color: red! but also pretty much any gem tones

hair color: dirty blonde

eye color: blue

song: the waltz from swan lake

food: any variety of charcuterie board

drink: champagne

HAVE THEY..

passed university: no! though she and ilya continued to be tutored as though attending college.

had sex: yes

had sex in public: preferred

gotten pregnant: sure did

kissed a boy: yes

kissed a girl: no

gotten tattoos: two leafy wreaths on her underbust

gotten piercings: yes, her ears!

been in love: wretchedly

stayed up for more than 24 hours: frequently!

ARE THEY...

a virgin: no

a cuddler: yes. v LOVES being touched/coddled

a kisser: only with particular folks

scared easily: no lmao

jealous easily: yes, but she's a go-getter so the problem is usually often resolved rapidly : )

trustworthy: if you make the cut, yes

dominant: very

submissive: when it's earned

in love: yes

single: no

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: no, nikita had that department entirely under control

have they thought about suicide: yes.

have they attempted suicide: no.

wanted to kill someone: can and has

have/had a job: she's very employable!

have any fear(s): only the dead

FAMILY

siblings: ilarion astakhov, twin brother

parents: kseniya astakhova (nee sahakyan), nikita astakhov

children: roma (ii) & yuliana!

significant other: roman sionis

pets: none! zsasz doesn't count.

#tag games #c: elliot honeysett #c: varya astakhova #this was very fun and cute!!! #thank u to all who tagged me

[honeysidesarchived]

HERALD ELLIOT HONEYSETT-SEED » far cry 5

“i chewed my way through a loss so sickeningly sweet my teeth began to rot.”

#* #far cry 5 #fc5 oc #c: elliot honeysett #c: herald elliot honeysett #i am out here living my best life with normal double digit temps ladies and gents #finished out my queue for the weekend and gonna rest up #just thinking about: my girl #thinking about: she #miss my crowd control

[honeysidesarchived]

elliot honeysett, far cry 5 // varya astakhova, birds of prey

nobody tagged me, i just saw @avallachs using this gorgeous picrew and had to use it! so thought to start my own little tag game 💕

tagging @faithchel @heroofpenamstan @belorage @shallow-gravy @johnnycranes @vasiktomis @lilwritingraven @stacispratt @adelaidedrubman @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @jackiesarch @jamesbvchanans @chazz-anova @romach @sailormoonweaver @starcrier and anyone else who wants to play! i tried to tag all i could think of but i have swiss cheese brain still 🥺 so please tag me if you make one!

#tag games #c: varya astakhova #c: elliot honeysett #i rise from the ashes of sickness #to do: picrew

[honeysidesarchived]

cheap + john/elliot

i love you both so much thank you liz and thank you @shallow-gravy for always enabling me to terrorize john seed in the best way i know how (with elliot's mother)

cheap & accost + john/elliot (feat. scarlet) from this list! no warnings really, just john waxing poetic about scarlet will never love him. no cult au!

"so," scarlet says, casting a scathing gaze downward, "this is it?"

based on her words alone, someone would think she was referring to a particularly tasteless display, something so utterly disappointing that she couldn't help but voice her opinion about it (and the fact is, scarlet really doesn't voice her opinion very often--there is too much dancing around the subject and making passive-aggressive jabs for her true thoughts to come out very often). perhaps a display of public inebriation, of someone making a fool of themselves at a setting that is meant to celebrate.

actually, in fact, it's regarding elliot's engagement ring.

john tries not to take it too personally. how can he? scarlet has never liked anything he's done--despite the knowledge that he is handsome, intelligent, accomplished, more than capable of providing for her daughter (a thing which scarlet insists upon despite the fact that elliot has a job and would hate being a housewife)--and instead prefers to try and tear him to shreds at every opportunity.

he is working on letting it go. he is working on not letting scarlet's visceral dislike of him affect him. and yet, still, sometimes, he wonders--what's so wrong with me, hm?

"yes, mother," elliot says, very visibly restraining her tone, "this is the ring."

"it's not--a temporary one?" scarlet presses. "you know, something to tide over until you can find the perfect one?"

"no," the blonde sighs.

"hm."

"she could have another one, if she wanted," john ventures.

elliot says, "john."

"hm," scarlet says, again. she lifts elliot's hand to inspect the engagement ring. it is exactly what elliot wanted, which unfortunately is probably not what scarlet envisioned for her daughter--simple, clean. nothing too ostentatious. "but the blue, bunny?"

"i picked it out," ell snaps.

"and elliot knows she could have any ring she wanted," john adds, drawing scarlet's eyes to him. the feeling is not unlike drawing the unwanted attention of a jungle cat. or a gun. "i'm sure you know she has a very specific taste."

"well, you'll have to spend a lot of time explaining that," is what scarlet says finally. "the blue stone makes it look...well, you know. like a toy ring. people will think you got it out of one of those quarter machines at the bowling alley." she grimaces, lip curling. "cheap."

"we're leaving now," elliot announces loudly, irritably, grabbing john's hand. "we're leaving to the other side of the room. over there. goodbye, mother."

scarlet hms again, but lets them go; the crowd at the engagement party is easy to sift through, and by the time they get to the other side of the room where elliot can pour herself another glass of champagne, john has mostly recovered from the repeated realization that his mother in law will never, ever like him despite his many, many, many (many) winning qualities.

"holy shit," elliot hisses, "she is unbearable until she gets at least five vodka martinis in her."

"admittedly, was not expecting your mother to accost me about the price of your engagement ring," john replies, watching her shoot him a dry glance over her shoulder. in amendment, he adds, "but maybe i should have expected."

"yes," elliot agrees, "you should have." she pauses, and then reaches up, resting her hand on the crook between his neck and shoulder. "and i'm still sorry. you know she'd never be happy with any engagement ring from anyone."

"well," john says, and does not elaborate, because she knows he means she might have if i were literally anyone else.

the blonde sighs, leaning up and kissing him quickly--just enough for him to briefly feel the synapses firing off delightedly, wiping his brain of present mommy-trauma--and says, "anyway, let's go explain our cheap engagement ring to the rest of my mom's friends."

"goody," john mutters against her mouth, "can't wait."

#micro prompts #x: death keep off; i am your enemy #no cult au #c: elliot honeysett #c: john seed #meowthvevo #shallow-gravy #thank u babies i LOVE u

[honeysidesarchived]

tagged by @earthmightiest @scungilliwoman @faithchel to read my kids to hell and back using this quiz THANKS FRIENDS

tagging @shallow-gravy @vasiktomis @starcrier @lilwritingraven @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe @jackiesarch @smithandrogers @henbased @belorage @heroofpenamstan and anyone else who wants to play!

— A KNIFE CALLED GRIEF.

you have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? you can run but not without them. you want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything. you want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. you want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. because you know you’d do that for them.

— AN UNDOING INFLUENCE.

can someone tell you what to do? you have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. if someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. you want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

#tag games #c: elliot honeysett #c: varya astakhova #final girls final girls final girls #not me getting emo about these girls being absolutely roasted

[honeysidesarchived]

spoiled by my total and absolute love capnswordfish with a bust sketch of my birthday girl elliot!!!!! WAHHH i can't stop looking at her freckles and her beautiful face!!!! please if you have the chance, go and check out cappy and their incredible art, they are so wonderful an artist but more than that they are an incredible friend!!!

#elli bday spam #c: elliot honeysett #gifts for me #UGHHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T STOP LOOKING AT HER FRECKLESSSS #pls go give cappy some love #far cry 5 oc #fc5 oc