#oc: elliot honeysett

[stacispratt]

big god

okay so i posted this a while ago and then immediately deleted it because i hated it so much and NOW it’s about 4x longer but still just as incoherent i think BUT ANYWAYS!! big thanks to @consumedkings for letting me play with our ocs like action figures in her delightful universe!! this is essentially just. a character study of wes in the ancient names universe

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It's always when Ell's not around.

"You need someone who will love you as much as you love them," John says. "Someone like me."

Always then, that John tries to dig his fingers under the chinks in Wes's armor and pry him open. Like he's just desperate to get covered in the brilliant red of Wes's blood, smeared with gore— like all he wants is to reach inside and get a hold on Wes's heart. To get such a firm hold on it that Wes will never, never be able to forget him.

He's seen him the same, with Elliot. Wes has seen the spark in his eyes when he sees her get vulnerable, the twitch in his fingers. Desperate to pry her open, too. But he doesn't get to do that right now— Joseph is busy doing it, taking Elliot's confession. And John is jealous, something inside him roiling with it, so he's taking it out on Wes. Trying to prove to himself that at least one of them is all his.

When Ell said "Not to you. Joseph." Wes had seen it, watched the careful progression flit through John's body language— fear, jealousy, fury. Panic, when John returned to their little house and Wes had taunted him with a "Don't tell me you're jealous—" 

John had snapped his hand out to grip Wes's wrist, Wes had grabbed John's shirt, and. And.

Wes only stares up at John. His hands are planted into the mattress on either side of his head, caging him in. If Wes relinquishes even an inch, shows even the tiniest reaction, the smallest twitch in his expression, John will take it and run. He'll grab the thread and pull and pull and pull until Wes is nothing more than a pile of string, free for John to take and reform as he wishes. To make him into something new. Something that better suits John. Better suits Eden's Gate.

So Wes keeps his face blank. He doesn't grab for John and beg Oh, God, give me something warm and safe to stuff inside my chest. God, stuff me full of love until I can't take it anymore.

But John sees something, because he lurches forward, presses all of himself to Wes, and pushes their lips together. “You need me, Wes,” John breathes into his mouth. “You and Ell. You know why?" he asks, and doesn't wait for an answer. "Because you need someone who understands you." Their lips brush. "Someone who's never felt– never felt as loved in return for the love they've given."

It's the most honest John has ever been with him, Wes thinks. His stomach twists.

"I can give you that," John whispers. "Eden's Gate can give you that."

“Shut up,” Wes groans. “I don’t want your cult.”

“No, you’re right." John brings his hand up to cradle Wes's face in his palm, thumb just under his eye, pinky finger curled under his jaw. Wes always likes that, John holding his jaw. Firm or with feather-light touch. Either way, it makes Wes's eyelashes flutter. “You just want me.”

Wes squeezes his closed eyes shut even tighter and rolls on top of John. He pins him down, bites his lip, and repeats, "Shut up."

                                                            /

“He’s got his claws in me, Ell,” Wes whispers, the next morning, fearful even in the crook of her neck. No one else will hear them, alone in their cabin at Joseph's Compound (John's at one of those little Seed family meetings, where he and Ell are definitely the main topic of discussion), but it feels wrong to say at all, even when it's so hushed no one but she could hear it. “I’m afraid– I’m afraid even when we get out of here, I’ll never really leave. I’ll never be able to leave.”

She holds him, rubs his shoulderblades, and says resolutely, "We're going to get out. No matter what bullshit the Seeds feed us." She pauses, and insists, hard enough to convince both of them, "We're going to get out."

Oh, and that. John's and Joseph's insistence that they're not going to get out of this scot free— that the Feds will see everything they've done. See the violence coiled in Ell's muscles, the blood caked under Wes's fingernails. Whenever Wes tries to tell himself they're not right, tries to say It's self-defense, tries to say They'll understand, he feels anxiety crawling under his skin.

Paired with the sensation of John's hold on him, so powerful it's like physical touch, he's… he's got this terrible, sinking feeling that his mind—his identity— is never going to leave Hope County. That he'll be firmly rooted in his fear and terror and violence for the rest of his life.

Maybe he'll never even leave physically. Maybe he'll die here. Maybe he'll get stuffed full of flowers.

God, he hopes not. For Ell's sake.

They've already lost Joey.

WRATH, DO YOU STILL WANT TO BLOOM IN ME? 

He imagines it, written into his chest. They wouldn't even have to write the WRATH. John already did it for them.

Wes remembers to breathe and takes a shuddering inhale, his face still pressed under Ell's jaw. "Right," he says, fighting to keep his voice even. He shakes off the ghostly sensation of John's nails in his flesh, the imagined burn of a knife in his chest, and forces himself to really feel her arms around him. To appreciate how steady she is. "We're going to get out."

Ell turns her head and kisses his temple.

                                                            /

Faith takes Ell on a walk. He offers to come with, a little anxious at the idea of being apart from her, but Faith dismisses the idea with a giggle. "Deputy Honeysett can take care of us, I'm sure," she chirps. "We're even taking Boomer, too. We'll be perfectly safe, Wes."

He holds Ell's gaze for a moment, until she nods, just a little. He relents, "Okay," despite his prickling neck.

"Besides," Faith chimes, "I think Joseph wanted to have a word with you."

That gives Elliot pause, makes her open her mouth to protest. "Wes, you shouldn't—" she starts, because Elliot might have a soft spot for Faith, but Joseph is just about her least favorite. She confessed to him because she felt like she had to. She doesn't want Wes to have to do the same.

It's okay. He can deal with Joseph. He can choke out the confession he wants to hear.

"I know," Wes interrupts gently. "It can't hurt. It's okay."

Ell lingers, then steps forward and grabs the back of his neck, hauls him down for a chaste kiss. "Don't forget who you're dealing with," she murmurs against his mouth. He nods, takes a deep breath, and she pulls away.

He watches her, Faith, and Boomer walk for a few moments, then turns on his heel.

He finds Joseph at the alter. "Wesley," he says, without even turning to face him.

"Wes," Wes corrects, and seats himself in one of the pews in the first row. Joseph merely hums. "Faith said you wanted to, uh… talk."

Joseph stays silent for a second, just staring at the window of the church, casting light on the dust floating in the air around them. Wes blinks at the window, in the shape of the cross of Eden's Gate, and briefly recalls his first night here. 

Then cloud crosses the sky, the ray of sunlight disappears, and Joseph turns to face him.

"Yes," he says, as he looks Wes over. "I've been thinking. About the myriad of ways this situation could turn out."

Wes snorts and looks down at his hands, resting comfortably on his thighs. "How many different ways are there for the world to end in holy fire?" he asks, a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth up. "Or do you doubt your own visions?"

"No, I don't," Joseph says, almost immediately. It's not frazzled, though— he's just as unruffled as ever. Wes looks up. Joseph stands right in front of him, hands held casually behind his back. "John does." 

Wes closes his mouth.

Joseph smiles, just slightly, without his eyes, and sits beside Wes on the pew. "But," he says, "he did get me thinking. About… creating safety nets. In case God's plans are not exactly as I imagine."

Just as Wes starts to think what a safety net for Eden's Gate could possibly be—finally, actually eliminating him and Ell?—Joseph says, gentle as Wes has heard him be yet, "If the world does not end as soon as I imagine, you will have to be protected from the law," and Wes feels himself lock up.

"I'm not the one who needs to worry about the law," he says, voice tight, and resolutely does not look toward Joseph, even though he can feel Joseph's eyes on him. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You must know that's not true."

Wes keeps staring, silent and frozen, gone stone-still with fright. Joseph's face stays placid. After a moment, Wes swallows and croaks, "It's self defense."

"Deputy Honeysett has already killed one man with nothing more than a blunt object, and the two of you went on a mass Cleansing of my followers before the Family even appeared. She's a hazard to herself." Wes opens his mouth to defend her, but Joseph barrels on, "And you're no better, Deputy Beltran. Operating as judge, jury, and executioner within Hope County. There is no excuse for the things you've done here."

"You're the one who started a fucking war in the—"

"Wes," Joseph interrupts. "My group of devoted followers have been targeted, attacked, and gutted by a foreign cult. We look… sympathetic." Wes's skin starts to itch, as he anticipates the punch coming on. "If you were to align yourself with us, we could protect you from suspicion. If the very group you slaughtered accepted you, it would look… better, for your case. You would not seem so dangerous. Not such a loose canon."

"I'm not a loose canon," Wes protests, and the effect is weakened by the uncertainty in his voice.

Joseph answers him calmly once more, like he's barely even listening to what Wes has to say. "You are. You and Ell operated by your own rules and executed your enemies as you saw fit." Joseph shifts, tips his head. "My people. The… redemption it would show, to align yourselves with us, would place you in the right. You and Ell. Both of you would seem sympathetic. Two people lost in the fray."

Wes's head feels fucking cloudy. "Align myself?"

Then he makes the mistake of actually looking at Joseph. The moment he does, he sees Joseph's warm eyes (somehow, despite it fucking all, despite the cruel calculation Wes knows he's capable of), sees the concern in the lines of his face. Sees Joseph reach for him, feels cool fingers on the back of his neck, as the Father draws him in, and gently, very gently, rests their foreheads together. "Yes," he murmurs, as his thumb runs up into Wes's hairline. "You understand what I'm saying, don't you? That this is the best way to protect yourself." He pauses, then elaborates, "To protect Elliot."

Wes's eyes close against his will, and his fingers twitch in his lap. 

Joseph's words creep into him and start to take root. Less of a loose canon if I'm sided with Eden's Gate. More of a victim, less of a killer, if the people on my side are the corpses stuffed with flowers. 

By extension, Ell would look less guilty, too.

"We can protect you," Joseph murmurs. "I can save you. If only you'd let me."

They're breathing the same air. Maybe if Wes could just catch a breath of the crisp air outside, something brisk and fresh, he'd be thinking clearer, but right now, he's thinking As a backup. Just in case things don't go to plan, and even louder, To protect Elliot, to protect Elliot, to protect Elliot, so he says, "How would I…"

Joseph inhales and curls his other hand around Wes's bicep. Anchors himself tighter into Wes. "Your last name," he says. Warming Wes up to the idea, giving him a moment to soak in each word. "If you were to change it."

Wes scrunches his eyebrows. "Change it?"

Very faintly, Joseph breathes, "If you were to become a Seed." He only gives Wes a second to absorb that, lest panic sets in, and he continues, "You would align yourselves clearly with us. Place yourself under our protection. Under John's protection, my protection." Joseph pauses, then reminds, "And in turn, you would help Deputy Honeysett."

Wes hesitates. Joseph lands the killing blow.

"Deputy Pratt, too, would be protected with this. As he is aligned with you." Wes flinches, opens his mouth to blurt out demands about where Staci is, and how Wes needs to get him, needs to keep him safe, and Joseph continues, "He is safe, in the Whitetails. You can keep him safe."

Wes doesn't give himself too much time to think about it, to talk himself out of it. He told himself he'd do whatever he needed to get out of Hope, with Ell and Joey and Staci, and he's already fucking lost one of them. He already lost Joey, he lost her, and if he lost Ell too, lost Staci— he wouldn't know what to do, and if– if they made it out of Hope, only for their actions here to be what does Ell and Staci in, he would never– never— 

"Okay," Wes blurts, and flutters his eyes open to look down at Joseph's bare chest, at the EDEN written over his ribs. "I– okay."

For a moment, Joseph squeezes his neck so tight it's painful.

Then he releases Wes entirely and leans back to look at him once more. "Good, Wes," he says. "Good."

Wes signs the document Joseph has. Under Your new name: he writes Wesley Abraham Seed with shaky, wobbly lettering, and feels his stomach turn uncomfortably. He tries to tell himself, for Ell and Staci, for Ell and Staci, for Ell and Staci, on repeat, again and again, until Joseph guides the paper from him and praises, "There. You've done well."

For Joey.

Wes flexes his hand around the pen in his hand. Seed, he thinks. 

Then he thinks, Fuck, and barely remembers to say anything to Joseph before he stumbles out of the church like a drunken man. He doesn't even know where he's going until he collapses onto his and Ell's bed in their cabin.

"I think I'm a fucking idiot," he says into the pillow, as his stomach turns and turns and turns.

It'll be a fucking miracle if he ever gets to go home.

#I STILL HATE THIS BUT I HATE IT LESS NOW I HOPE IT'S OKAY ASH ILYSM #my fic #oc: wesley beltran #oc: elliot honeysett #john seed #fc5

[strafethesesinners]

deputy double trouble AU or: whitehorse with TWO unruly blondes on the force ( coop & elliot both deputies pre and during the reaping ) 🥺💖 ?

I’m so sorry I keep forgetting to answer this!

Ok Elliot and Cooper as co-deputies hmm

I think Cooper would actually love it if Elliot was his partner since she would most likely do the majority of the work and he can sleep in the patrol car. She’s probably notice fairly quickly that Cooper doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing though. (It would be interesting to see what her theories are about why that is; I think it might take him a while to tell her he’s not a real cop, he’d have to trust her first.)

After the Reaping could get interesting. I think both of them would be really surprised by each other’s um hidden skills and tendencies.

Cooper hides his fighting skills both to not attract too much attention and because he feels bad using them against people in his position as a cop. There might be hints here and there, but overall he’s pretty successful at keeping it under wraps. So when the Reaping starts and he has to bust them out people are.....surprised. Idk if Elliot would be or not. Maybe if she was thinking of Cooper as just a goofy himbo?

Cooper prefers not to kill if he doesn’t have to, so he finds the quickest and most efficient way to incapacitate an enemy. His takedowns might be non lethal but they can be fairly brutal at times. But Cooper’s not into excessive or unnecessary violence (ok there are exceptions but in general.) I think he’d be very surprised and more than a little concerned about Elliot’s um, feral tendencies shall we say? He’d be good for her though I think, or at least he’d be able to hold her back til she calmed down (I think).

#I’m sorry this is so lame and took so long!! #we’ll have to talk more to build them a real story #I hope it’s ok for now though! #maybe something to start with? #oc: cooper mccoy #oc: elliot honeysett #far cry 5 OCs

[lilwritingraven]

"...so you stay alone, because to be loved requires vulnerability."

-Steven Furtick, Are You Lying to Yourself?

#quotes #oc: audry rook #oc: wesley beltran #oc: elliot honeysett #I love this quote #this one got me

[rvchelking]

elliot honeysett moodboard // happy belated birthday @proudspires 🌼

#oc: elliot honeysett #edits by me #proudspires #ash i hope you like it just wanted to make smth for you u've been so nice and you deserve all the love ♥

[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

[consumedkings-archive]

biggest peggy killer this side of hope county, aren't you?

#ch: elliot honeysett #my edits #my gifs #aes: ancient names #aes: witching hour #far cry 5 oc #fc5 oc #douse my girl in blood already #let her bite someone #i'm tired of writing all this CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT #GRRR #i am most myself when writing elliot coming unglued #tw blood

[adelaidedrubman]

“I’m faster than you, the mantra rambling in her head. Faster and stronger and I’ll fucking kill you.” (x)

happy birthday to everyone’s favorite harbinger 》 deputy elliot honeysett 》 ancient names / witching hour 》 owned by @honeysides

#ch: elliot honeysett #other's ocs #happy birthday to she <3 #my moodboards #tw blood

[chazz-anova]

Samara Weaving Icons

Random Icon Batches (3/?)

Some icons for @consumedkings's deputy, Elliot!

#elliot honeysett #samara weaving icons #samara weaving #fc ocs #icons

[vasiktomis]

chosen!cora au (feat. chosen!cora in a universe with ell maybe??? if u feel so inclined....) 💘

Chosen!Cora AU Headcanons! (I love this AU sm, and the Elliot twist is sublime)

While presently one of the Seed family's most loyal protectors, Cora was initially slow to warm to the family she serves. Unlike the vast majority of Joseph's flock, the ex-ranger gravitated to the idea of preserving the land rather than finding a sense of belonging. She took to Jacob's training voluntarily and without complication. She was the model Chosen, and she liked knowing it.

She wasn't pleased when she was eventually re-assigned to Holland Valley. She'd been promised solitude. Instead, she was landed with acting as the Baptist's personal babysitter. 4 years on, she remains the man's shadow, perpetually annoyed by both his grating personality and by how far out of her way she goes for him.

It's not in her job description, but she's outlived and outshined enough of John Seed's followers to be the one overseeing the rest of his staff. She knows how he likes things done. She knows the schedule. She's always fucking complaining about it, but it was never asked of her in the first place.

When Elliot joins the family, Cora doesn't think much of her. It's nothing personal; she doesn't think much of anyone. It's a doubled workload (which, internally, she rejoices over), and another annoying, pretty face that she has no option but to shadow every single day of the week. The new Herald's playfulness mimics John's. She's curious like him, too. She becomes a piece of furniture in Cora's mind in no time. Her romantic interactions with the Baptist linger over Cora's shoulder while the Chosen stands guard, convincing herself that she isn't, nor has ever been, curious. Sometimes she flirts the same way John always has. It's hell.

Warm summer evenings are spent gardening with Elliot while John tinkers nearby in the hangar, and the two of them seem to insist on bickering back and forth as usual while their protector pretends to mind her own business, silently agreeing with every single thing they say to each other, no matter the nature. One particular evening, Cora watches herself rambling at length to Elliot about dirt while they work. The other woman has not once attempted to derail the conversation. She's spent the entire duration of the sunset listening with intent, and Cora finally comes to the conclusion that she has feelings for both her bosses. She requests a transfer the next day.

#hi there ash did you know i love you #cora stammos #elliot honeysett-seed #far cry 5 #far cry 5 oc #excuse my shitty edit lmao im learnding #chosen au #ask tag

[stacispratt]

unnatural as it feels

okay i do not feel like this is a good piece of writing at all BUT it’s the first thing i’ve finished in over a month so i’m gonna try n cut myself a little slack. so here’s a john/wes/ell thing i’ve been writing for way too long!!! thank you to @consumedkings for letting me write with your girl, i love her <3 also tagging @oorah22 @lilwritingraven @ohfaiths !!

“Okay, close your eyes.”

“I’m not closing my eyes.”

“Come on," John drawls, "be a good sport now, dearest.” He squeezes her hip, all while he has a shit-eating grin on his face. Every inch of him screams pleased beyond belief, which almost, almost makes Elliot smile back at him. She feels a caveat coming, though, so she just gives him a very, very dry look.

“John.”

“Fine, spoil all the fun," John huffs and squeezes her waist affectionately once more. She smacks at his arm. "The present will still be a nice surprise," he says, and takes her over the threshold to the dining room. He gestures wide, both hands extended toward her present, fingers spread wide.

Ell stops short, a foot past the doorway. “... You’re not serious." She looks from the dining table to John, face blank, gone flat with disbelief at her husband. "You’re fucking shitting me.”

Wesley Beltran is chained to one of their fucking dining room chairs. Literally, actually chained. Bound all over, across his shoulders, around his midsection, all the way around his forearms, his calves. Like John is unwilling to allow any possibility of a repeat of Wes's escape from his Confession.

“No," John says, grin barely contained, so near bursting onto his lips that Elliot can hear it in his damn voice. "Not kidding. I got him. Presenting, Deputy Wesley Beltran, over for dinner.”

Elliot stares at Wes, then cuts her eyes to John. “He’s fucking unconscious, you moron.”

“Yeah, and?" John huffs, arms crossed over his chest. Elliot levels a capital-L Look at him. "The point is that he’s here, and you got what you wanted. What’s the problem?” he snipes. "You wanted Wes over for dinner, you've got him."

"Are you fucking deranged?" Elliot snaps. "I said I wanted Wes to accept our invitation to dinner, not for a second attempt at his Confession in our dining room!"

"It's not a Confession! He's just— you know, here! Like you wanted!"

"You're insufferable," Ell hisses, but she tugs him in by the shirt collar for a kiss anyway. "You idiot," she mutters against his lips. "Sit the fuck down."

                                                            /

Wes wakes up to see a plate set before him on a dining table.

He blinks. Maybe it's a hallucination from the Bliss. His vision is a little sparkly, but nothing bad— nothing like when he's with Faith, when he normally hallucinates. His vision's not cloudy, not tainted green, and normally that means he couldn’t be hallucinating, but there's a plate with a– a stupid fucking steak on his plate, so he has to be hallucinating.

"There, he's awake," someone says, with a kind of are you happy now? tone of voice.

Wes blinks, slow and sticky, then, as delicate as he can so his head doesn't pound, raises his eyes.

John and Elliot.

He's– sitting at a table with John Seed and Elliot Honeysett.

"Oh," he mumbles. He tries to move his hands, but metal digs into him from his elbow to his wrist. He glances down. Chains are pretty much… everywhere. "Oh," he says again, then shakes his head a little. "Are we– dinner?"

"See?" John says, gesturing to Wes as he looks to Ell. "Even Wes gets what's going on. He's fine with it."

Fine with it. Wes lets out a clipped, hysterical laugh. "My– m'hands are bound. I can't eat dinner."

John scoffs. "We're not going to fucking eat," he snaps. Then he settles on the arm of Wes's chair, grabs his jaw in one hand, and kisses him.

Wes grunts but leans into it anyway, shoulders flexing against the chain. John purrs and slips his hand up to cup Wes's cheek. "Yeah, there you are, my good boy. Our good boy."

Elliot scoffs as a chair scratches back against the floor. "He's not good. He's terribly behaved, just like you."

"Mm." John doesn't pull from Wes to hum, just keeps their lips pressed together. Coasts his hand up into Wes's hair to slowly curl his fingers into it, closes his fist and tugs gently to make Wes whimper. John leans away with an inhale. Smiles as he watches Wes list toward him and pull against John's fist in his hair. 

John turns his smug smile onto Ell. "See? He can behave."

"He can speak for himself," Wes mumbles.

"Yeah, but you can't," Ell huffs from somewhere behind Wes, completely ignoring him. "Get off our houseguest."

John huffs but crawls off Wes all the same and stands just to his right, while Ell settles at his left. She smooths her hand through Wes's hair, eases John's fist to relax and slip away. "John's so indelicate," she murmurs, as if in apology. "I tell him I'd like you to accept my dinner invitation and he drugs you. Dumbass." She sighs. "I am the one who married him."

Wes nods listlessly. "Would've loved to have steaks with you," he mumbles. "Wanna—" he pauses to cough, then picks up again, "Wanna let me, uh– simmer off the Bliss and we can… continue like civilized people?"

Ell sighs and strokes her hand through his hair again. "God, you are just like John," she mutters.

Wes's eyebrows scrunch together. "You take that back," he slurs. 

"Watch it," John growls. "You're lying anyways. The only reason I had to drug you is because you refused to come over in the first place, after my wife and I invited you over kindly. Three times."

"I hate to break this to you," Wes mutters, eyes lidded and fixed on Ell's face while she continues to pet his hair— trails her fingers down from his curls to his jaw, then up and back down again. She smiles at him, sugar-sweet. Wes shakes his head a little to focus back up. "But– but the two of you keep… keep me pretty busy. I don't… have time."

"Hm." Ell rubs her knuckles into his cheek. "You have time now. Why don't you sleep it off, huh? We can eat when you wake up." Her eyes cut away toward John. "Isn't that right, dearest."

Wes eyes her cautiously. "If you drug me again I'm going to be so fucking pissed," he mutters.

"We're helping you get sober," John informs him, and curls his palm over the back of Wes's neck— over the angel wings he has tattooed there. "Try to keep up."

                                                            /

Once Wes is unbound from all the fucking chains, John handcuffs his hands in front of him, and he and Ell guide Wes into bed, sandwiched between the two of them. John presses his chest to Wes's back and braces a hand over his tummy. Ell pets his eyebrow with her thumb methodically. "Comfy?" she taunts, somehow affectionate even while she does.

"You're using me," Wes murmurs, because apparently he still has no filter, even as he's starting to come down from the Bliss. "It's… not like you want me."

John huffs against the back of his neck, then leaves a kiss at the notch of his spine. "What gave you that impression, Deputy?" Wes feels him grin against his skin. "Is it because we're sharing a bed with you? Cuddling up?"

"You don't want me," Wes insists, bleary, eyes heavy with Elliot's petting, but still determined to get his point across. "I'm just a p– a pawn. You don't care about… about me."

"Well, I'm embarrassed now, Wes," Ell coos. She looks much softer like this, blonde hair half spread over the pillow and half over her shoulder. It's pretty. She's pretty.

If Wes was less sober, he’d tell her so. 

"Were John and I the only ones affected by that night?" Wes locks up. Fuck, he'd hoped they'd forgotten about that— they'd never mentioned it, and Wes figured they'd rub that kinda thing in his face if they remembered. "Don’t you remember?" she cajoles.

Wes whines and cringes back from her, eyes squeezed shut, but he can't get more than an inch away. Elliot only smiles. "You do remember," she drawls. She slips her fingers from his face to his hair. Wraps one of his curls around her finger and tugs gently. "Behind the Spread Eagle. You were havin' a smoke out back when John and I stepped out… I thought we all felt a little something. Hm?"

Felt a little something. Wes had been damn close to going home with them when Staci stepped out, looking for him, and whisked him away.

Ell smirks and taps her finger on Wes's cheek. "Yeah. We've wanted you since then. The rest of this has just been… complications." She sighs affectedly. "You're not a pawn, honey."

"Fuck," Wes breathes, eyes still shut. "Fuck."

"Get some sleep, Wes" John purrs. "We'll talk more when you're sober."

                                                             /

When Wes wakes up, they're both asleep.

I could escape, is his first thought. If I can sneak out of bed, I'm home free.

Hard, but not impossible. Wes has a feeling they’re both light sleepers. Wrangling himself out of bed, from between the two of them, from under the blankets, and levering himself up in bed, all with his hands cuffed together… it wouldn't be easy. He would almost definitely be noticed, which either means a hasty escape, handcuffed with no backup, or recapture with more precautions that time.

But it would be easy to kill one of them, is his second thought. His hands are bound in front of him— strangling one of them would be easiest, but finding a weapon isn't out of the question either. It would— in theory— be quick work to damage either John or Elliot beyond repair, before the other was awake enough to do anything about it.

And finally, very small and very quiet, in the back of his head, exists, or I could stay.

Wes could stay.

He could pretend to be asleep until one of them wakes up, or even… let his eyes shut and genuinely drift back to sleep, warm and comfortable in Seed Ranch, fucking spooning with Holland Valley's most dangerous couple. With his fucking back to John Seed.

Christ.

He'll blame it on the drugs, if it comes up, but he closes his eyes. He studies Elliot's face (remarkably, painfully peaceful in her sleep) and shuts his eyes, forces his muscles to go loose, and measures his breathing. Wills sleep to come.

God help him, Wes decides to stay.

#this is a choppy mess #i am fr so scared to tag people ahekgheg #my fic #oc: elliot honeysett #oc: wesley beltran #john seed #fc5

[strafethesesinners]

💓💌 please and thank u ? ✨

Hi!! I’m going to go with Elliott for these.

Send ‘💓’ to learn what my muse would do to try to woo yours.

Cooper’s not real original unfortunately. He’d probably start a conversation and flirt heavily and if she responded well, he’d ask her out. He likes stuff like picnics and driving around the county etc. or just going to one of the bars. But he’s pretty much down for whatever she’d want to do. He’d definitely try to make her laugh a lot and if he was really serious he might bring her something he thinks she’d like. 

Send 💌  to hear my muse confess what they find attractive about yours

Probably her smile (listen Cooper is WEAK for cute smiles and laughs) and he probably won’t admit it but he’s totally into people smaller than him so he can pick them up. He would also really like that she seems to be really attentive and considerate a lot of the time. Showing kindness to other people goes a long way with Cooper. 

#oc: cooper mccoy #oc: elliot honeysett #oc asks #I hope I got her right lol

[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]

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

[stacispratt]

wip day ??

okay this is MAD late but i haven’t really been working on anything recently. lol. but a lotta Beloved Mutuals have tagged me!! thank u folks <3 @consumedkings @oorah22 @ohfaiths @adelaidedrubman @lilwritingraven !! <33 anyways here’s this little thing with herald elliot and john and wes?? i’d like to finish this so like hold me accountable but this is a ROUGH DRAFT so also be gentle

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

“Okay, close your eyes.”

“I’m not closing my eyes.”

“Come on," John drawls, "be a good sport now, dearest.” He squeezes her hip, all while he has a shit-eating grin on his face, and every inch of him screams pleased beyond belief which almost, almost makes Elliot smile back at him. She feels a caveat coming, though, so she just gives him a very, very dry look.

“John.”

“Fine, spoil all the fun," John huffs and squeezes her waist affectionately once more. She smacks at his arm. "The present will still be a nice surprise," he says, and takes her over the threshold to the dining room. He gestures wide, both hands extended toward her present, fingers spread wide.

Ell stops short, a foot past the doorway. “... You’re not serious." She looks from the dining table to John, face blank, gone flat with disbelief at her husband. "You’re fucking shitting me.”

Wesley Beltran is chained to one of their fucking dining room chairs. Literally, actually chained. Bound all over, across his shoulders, around his midsection, all the way around his forearms, his calves. Like John is unwilling to allow any possibility of a repeat of Wes's escape from his Confession. He also has a a bruise, blooming red and purple at his temple, visible where his chin lolls to his chest.

“No," John says, grin barely contained, so near bursting onto his lips that Elliot can hear it in his damn voice. "Not kidding. I got him. Presenting, Deputy Wesley Beltran, over for dinner.”

Elliot stares at Wes, then cuts her eyes to John. “He’s fucking unconscious, you moron.”

“Yeah, and?" John huffs, arms crossed over his chest. Elliot levels a capital-L Look at him. "The point is that he’s here, and you got what you wanted. What’s the problem?” he snipes. "You wanted Wes over for dinner, you've got him."

"Are you fucking deranged?" Elliot snaps. "I said I wanted Wes to accept our invitation to dinner, not for a second attempt at his Confession in our dining room!"

#i feel like. im not doing elliot Super Great eghegh OTHER PEOPLE'S OCS SCARE ME!!! #oc: elliot honeysett #oc: wesley beltran #john seed #fc5 #my fic #trinity talks!

[stacispratt]

“I don’t know where I am!” and/or “Hey, hey… it’s just me.” for wes/ell bby? if it so pleases u?

i love u SO MUCH for sending this and in return i offer up a crappy ficlet with Our Babies. ft. john who wiggled his way in there

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

"I don't know where I am," Elliot slurs, pushing at Wes's shoulders. Her fingers cling to his shirt, though, like she can't decide if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Her pupils are blown out wide, so wide it's entirely eaten up the blue of her iris. "Get– get away from me—"

She starts to fight him more earnestly, starts to dig her nails in to his arms, into his collarbones, the skin of his throat. "Hey!" he snaps, panicked. She's drawing blood, and he knows she'll do worse if he doesn't stop her. If there's one thing Ell doesn't do, it's pull her punches. 

After a few moments of struggle, Wes snatches her wrists up in his hands. "Hey, hey," he shushes, pressing both of her hands into one of his so he can cradle her jaw in his free palm. "It's just me, Ell," he soothes, and it tumbles out of his mouth in a rush. "It's Wes, it's me. I’ve got you."

"Wes?" Elliot whimpers, eyes fluttering. "Don't let them take me again. Don't let them, don't let them—"

"I'm not going to," Wes promises, and feels blood roll down the side of his neck. "We have to get out of here." He looks down to Elliot. Her eyes are starting to come into focus, and she looks around the forest, gets her bearings— her gaze lingers on the dirt for a moment, where her claw marks mar the earth. He looks away after a moment, releases her wrists, and just moves his hand from her jaw to her back. Gives her a firm, affectionate rub, like he's warming her up. "We– we gotta find John."

Elliot shakes her head but doesn't speak. She's still breathing hard, still shaking. Or maybe that's just him.

"C'mon," he pants, and only staggers once while he pulls them to their feet. "Let's find– find the van."

"Stop being so put together," Ell snipes, and smacks at his arm. Fear underlines the anger. "D-did they drug you too?"

"Yeah." Wes shakes his head. "I don't know. I– hit my head pretty hard, and I—" he stutters, tongue tripping over his words, over the blurred memory of a helicopter crash and petals bursting out of his mouth as Joseph says I told you God wouldn't let you— "I had a weird dream."

Ell groans as Wes tugs her toward the van— well, where he thinks the van might be. The most important thing is to just get them away from… here. "I– I did too," she says, voice trembling, but doesn't tell him anything else.

Twigs snap and leaves rustle somewhere to his right, and he pushes Ell behind him best he can. She hisses at him, trips over her feet, while his hand flinches to his hip for the gun that isn't there. "Wes," she snaps, but it doesn't matter because it's only John, lumbering through the forest like a fucking bear.

Wes wipes his shaking hand over his face as John staggers over, looking... worse for wear. When he's close enough, his pupils are blown too, his cheeks flushed, breath ragged in his chest. "We have to go," he pants, as his eyes scrape over Ell first, then Wes. "We need to get out of here," he says, and grab's Ell's hand— she allows it, which makes Wes's skin prickle with unease. Makes him feel like the drugs have her worse off than she's letting on.

"Yeah, if you can find us, we're fucked," Wes mutters, tired and sore and fucking drugged. "Come on. I think the van was this way."

#i be like *carves a whole into ash's canon n crams wes in there* #hole* #oc: elliot honeysett #oc: wesley beltran #john seed #fc5 #my fic #anyways i hate this iM SORRY ASH #lux--aurea #ask