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fancyfeathers · 5 months

Text

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Eight

A Doll’s House

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven, part one

Chapter seven, part two

Tw: this chapter has mentioned of implied r*pe/noncon, please do NOT ask me to write that scene because I don’t feel comfortable doing it, it is mentioned purely to show the severity of a toxic relationship

Everyone sat in a stunned silence, it was like if static filled all your ears. All you can do is watch as Fitzgerald holds Miss Jane’s chin in his hand, staring at her. Then he retracts his hand, tucking them into his pockets, leaving Jane with a horrified look on her face. He walked around the room, looking it all over. “Beautiful place you have made for yourself, Zelda. How much did it cost? Ten million I would guess.” Miss Jane didn’t respond, to terrified to say a word. He gave a whistle before walking behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing out the tense muscles like they were still married. “Have to hand it to you, it was nearly impossible to find you all here, records wise you have completely covered up your tracks.”

“H-how… how did you find us?” Miss Jane asked, her gaze fixed on the floor where the tea cup she dropped lays, broken in pieces. Fitzgerald chuckled as he pressed his fingers into her shoulder rather hard making her suck in a sharp breath.

“It wasn’t easy, but your biggest mistake was scheduling that meeting with whoever that government official was, those are in public records you know.” He gestured to a young man who had come in with him. “Luckily Mark’s shots never miss, even with tracking bullets.”

Both you, Gaston, and Dr. Stevenson had a shocked expression come across your faces. the red head who Fitzgerald had introduced as Mark comes up to your side and squatted down to your level, a smile on his face like absolutely nothing was wrong. “Sorry about that, I was aiming at your friend, I mean he has caused quite a few problems for us.” He laughed to himself before reaching up and pinching your cheek. “But hey don’t worry, I get to take care of you once we get y’all back to base.”

Your eyes widened in horror as Mark said that, and you looked over and so did Miss Jane’s. Almost on instinct she stood up, breaking free from Fitzgerald’s grip on her shoulders. She spun around, raising her hand and striking her ex husband across the face. Now a scowl had formed on her face, she was raging. “I don’t care what you do to me, but you will not touch them!”

The room sat in silence once more. Fitzgerald’s head was turned to one side from the force of the slap, a red hand print forming on his cheek. He turned his head back at Jane, his face no longer a smile. He reached a hand and grabbed the hand that rested on her chest, the same hand that slapped him. He yanked her over, almost pulling her over the chair she once sat in. So she was pulled up onto the chair so that she was on her knees in it, her chest against the back of it, and her face not to far below his and he bent down and grabbed her face again with his free hand. If looked could kill Jane would be dead. “I want you to listen to me, Zelda. After that stunt you pulled three years ago, I don’t care much for your opinion. I offered you a safe choice, but you refused so now we do this the hard way. John, if you’d please.”

The blond young man, the same from your shop stepped forward, he gave you a wink, which disgusted you. He took out a few seed from his pocket, seeds he bought from your old shop, then he took a hunting knife, stabbed himself in the neck and tucked the seeds in his neck. While he was doing this, Victor and Alexandre who knew his ability, went to reach for their guns, but right when they got them vines extended from his neck, reaching out and wrapping around their hands and guns, preventing them from doing anything. The vines reached out and also wrapped around Dr. Stevenson, and Gaston, leaving you and Jane the only ones untouched by them, you because you couldn’t run even if you tried and Jane because well… she’s Fitzgerald’s to deal with.

Everyone struggled but no one was able to break free, Dr. Stevenson couldn’t even activate her ability because she was already vulnerable and Alexandre couldn’t either because that would cause a bloodbath in here of both friend and foe alike. Jane’s eyes made contact with Gaston and she nodded and spoke not one word but they knew what each other were saying. With tears in his eyes Gaston took a breath and his body disappeared into the floor beneath him, like a ghost. The Guild and yourself were in shock and Miss Jane’s eyes went back to Fitzgerald. “Gaston’s ability, you’ll never catch him.”

Fitzgerald scowled and bit back. “Would you place money on that?”

“You know I hate gambling.”

—————————

Gaston was able to use his gift to go through the solid walls and ceiling of the building, down into the sewer system below Yokohama, it wasn’t hard to navigate, just like the catacombs under Paris, where he grew up. Paris, not the catacombs, but they were just a package deal. Gaston contacted the only two members of the Society that weren’t in the apartment at the time of the break in, Lewis Carroll and Henrik Ibsen, both of which were out on a mission together. Gaston told them of the harm that befell everyone and told him to meet them at the safe house. In true showmen fashion this safe house was a theater that Gaston purchased under the pen name, Erik. Now it was the three of them in private box five of the theater, discussing while rehearsals went on. Henrik looked absolutely terrified out of his mind while Lewis and Gaston discussed strategies for getting everyone out.

“I could activate my ability and whoever drank the potion would be effected.”

“Yes but we don’t know who has drank it or if it has been taken from their person. We also don’t know exactly where they are so we would have no idea where to get them.”

“We could use that government agent friend of yours, the one in the ministry of justice.”

“Mr. Tonan is a politician, not a fighter I’m afraid.”

“What about-“

“Um… excuse me…” Henrik spoke up in his timid little voice, hands folder on his lap, looking down, and trembling. “What if we use my ability?”

“…hm…” Lewis stared at his co worker with calculating eyes before tilting his head. “What’s your ability again?”

“You mean you forgot?! Lewis we’re on practically every mission together, we’re partners!” Henrik yelled at his co worker, embarrassed that he forgot about his ability. He sighs and leans in his chair. “It’s called Doll’s House. I can make a doll, and who ever I make it look like I can control, puppeteer. I can’t exactly control what they say or think but their limbs I can.”

“Wonderful! Where are you dolls?” Lewis asked with a grin. An awkward expression came across Henrik’s face and he sunk back into his chair and he nervously chuckled.

“My doll house is back in my apartment…”

“So we’re fucked.” Lewis groaned and leaned back as well. Gaston leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a calculating look on his face, he looked at Henrik dead in the eye.

“Maybe you don’t need your doll house. I’ll make a call…” Gaston stood up and took out his phone, flipping it open and dialing up a number. “Let’s pray the Armed Detective Agency is willing to help.”

—————————

You all were taken up town, all in separate vehicles to keep all of you from getting ideas, you were being taken to a nice hotel where the Guild had set up a stationary base at, or that’s at least what Mark told you as he talked you ear off endlessly in order for you to try and warm up to him. You only saw Guild officers in the hall as Mark pushed your wheelchair down the hall of the penthouse the Guild had gotten. Behind the doors you could hear the frustrated yells of both Alexandre and Dr. Stevenson who were probably as you could imagine, doing what they could to make their capture’s life a living hell. You could then hear quiet crying from behind another door, Victor who was probably scared out of his mind. Then there was the door at the end of the hall where you didn’t hear anything from, but from earlier when you arrived on this floor you saw wisps of brown hair and long blue flows fabric get pulled in there, Miss Jane most likely.

So now you were laid down in bed, pillows behind your back so you could sit up and blankets drawn up on you. Your wheelchair was beside your bedside and Mark sat at your side, he had finally stopped talking once he had finally noticed your stubbornness not to do so. You two sort of just sat in silence for a long time before he sighed. “You know the boss is pretty upset at your friend right now, Mrs. Fitzger-“

“Her name is Jane Austen.” You cut him off, finally saying something.

“Whatever her name is, she really pissed him off. I’m advising you to stay out of the line of fire and just keep a cool head if he talks to you.” Mark said standing up, reaching over to adjust your pillows so you can lay down more comfortably since he noticed your yawns ad eyelids getting heavy.

“Easy for you to say when you and your friends weren’t kidnapped.”

Mark only sighed as he lowered your head back onto the pillows. “Look I’m trying to help you. Look just try to get some rest, I don’t know how long you all will be staying here, you’ll probably be taken somewhere soon seems like your friends are clawing like cats.”

Mark walked over the lights and dimmed them down for you. “I’ll leave you alone for now just… get some sleep.”

He opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him, but not locking it, probably because he doesn’t think you could get to the door, taunting you almost.

—————————

Gaston’s phone call was answered by a rather annoying young man, a high pitched voice, but when Gaston told the young man his name he knew who he was, researched him most likely. When Gaston asked to speak to Dazai he was only told that Dazai was meeting with a government agent, but that the president himself would be happy to meet with them personally on what they need the only thing that they asked were files on the society’s members and answer questions they asked. They were given an address, a suspicious location, they would need to walk down a long rail line, they would be completely isolated any easy to pick off but at this point it was their only hope.

Gaston took the lead to keep Lewis and Henrik behind him, safe from immediate trouble. They walked down the rail line, looking long abandoned. Along the path they spotted cameras, or Gaston did at least. The long walk was silent and then at end of the hall, in front of a door, three men stood, one of them were familiar to Gaston, he was at that cafe with Dazai that day, Kunikida. The other two were strange to them, if you or Victor were there, you would recognize them as Ranpo and Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency.

“Are you armed?” Kunikida asked, his eyes narrowed at them. Gaston reached in his coat pocket and pulled out his revolver, an old gun, he took the six rounds out and held it in his other hand. Kunikida looks over to the president and he nods his head. Kunikida walks forward and takes the revolver Gaston gave him, along with a gun from Lewis and then a knife from Henrik. “I apologize but this is a safety precaution.”

“I understand, but I would like that back when this is over, that was my grandfather’s.” Gaston said as Kunikida tucked their weapons away.

“We will see Mr. Leroux, if you do good by us, we will do good by you. You have my word.” The president said, still no emotion on his face. Fukuzawa turned from them and opened the door behind him. “We’ll talk inside.”

They followed behind the president, it was almost like a college lecture hall they stepped into, wooden mostly. There were also three other figures there, a young man, teenager maybe, blond, overalls and a straw hat, another a woman, dark hair, and butterfly clip were her most prominent features, and the last s red head but he didn’t have many defining features about him, but they seemed busy in their own conversation, but kept an ear open on the conversation that was about to happen. They were lead to the front of the hall and sat down, all except the president, he stood in front of them. He looked down at the three society members, all that is left now. Gaston reached into his bag, a leather satchel, and pulled out a stack of files, each labeled with a different name, Jane Austen, Dr. R.L. Stevenson, Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, Gaston Leroux, William Shakespeare, Emma Orczy, Lewis Carroll, Henrik Ibsen, and one on you. “Straight from one of the Society’s archives. You’ll find almost everything on everyone in the society.”

“Almost everything?” Fukuzawa asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Well sometimes we each have our own dark secrets that we make sure never surface. Secrets that are best left forgotten, even by ourselves.” Gaston answered. Fukuzawa’s eyes narrowed at this statement but brushed it aside, for now anyway, he would come back to it later.

“Now what is it you exactly want? I doubt it is anything small considering how easily you all handed over your weapons.” Fukuzawa asked.

“You sure are sharp Mr. Fukuzawa.” Gaston chuckled and nodded before his expression became completely serious suddenly. “Members of our society have been captured by the Guild, because we refused a deal with them. We want to get them back.”

“You want us to break in to a Guild base?” Fukuzawa asked, showing shock on his face for the first time in this conversation.

“No, we simply need to borrow one of yours’ ability because we cannot go back to our home base to get what we need.” Gaston shook his head to the president’s question and pointed a finger right at a slightly surprised Kunikida. “We just need to borrow his ability.”

—————————

You were able to get somewhat of a nap in, the pain in your leg was quite a lot to deal with. When you awoke you didn’t see Mark at your bedside like before, now it was a much more familiar and more unwelcome face of John. He smelled at you when he noticed you were awake. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

You scowled and wanted to roll onto your side if it wasn’t for your damned leg. He saw this and sighed. “Don’t like me anymore huh?”

“Not in the slightest.” You said, speaking through gritted teeth.

He drugged and stood up. “Well I suppose you see us as the bad guys, you wouldn’t be the first but honestly you aren’t suited for society work, you should have just stayed in your flower shop. You were quite adorable there. Your old boss is quite worried about you, I stopped by there while you were sleeping and she was worried to but about you.”

Your eyes widened in hour as you heard those words and you honestly thought the worst happened. “What did you do to her?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Nothing, she’ll be quiet alright. For now anyway, she’s probably closing up shop and heading home now anyway.” You sighed in relief as you heard this but that was quickly replaced by pain once again as John went to pick you up and place you in your wheelchair. “Now, your boss has somehow convinced Mr. Fitzgerald to let her speak to you.”

When he said this your heart skipped a beat in either joy of fear as he pushed your wheelchair down the hall towards what must be Fitzgerald’s room that Jane was dragged into. As you were fist rolled inside it was giant, like a whole other house, it was probably double the size of Miss Jane’s already huge apartment. On the couch was Miss Jane, hair down, a white silk robe and a blue silk night gown, she held a cup of tea in her hands and her blindly stared down at the hot liquid as behind her Fitzgerald stood, leaning against the couch, one hand playing with Miss Jane’s hair the other holding a stack of written papers. Fitzgerald and Jane both heard the door open and they both looked up to you the two of you entering. Fitzgerald smiled and tucked his arm with the papers at his side. “Ah you must be Miss (Name), John has been telling me and other Guild members all about you. You worked at a flower shop before working for my Zelda, must have taken such a risk, hm?”

“I like working for Miss Jane, it gives me purpose again.” You said, completely disregarding the name he used for her, this made Miss Jane smile and Fitzgerald sigh.

“I see, I suppose she must have been paying you well then, wouldn’t surprise me that my wife would.” He spoke as he walked over to a nearby chair and grabbed a jacket that rested on it and began to put it one.

“Respectfully sir, I don’t give a damn about the money, I could be paid nothing and I would still do this,because the society was made to do the right thing.” You spoke as you were rolled up right next to Miss Jane. Fitzgerald looked over his shoulder at the two of you, right at the smirk on your face and the smile on Miss Jane’s.

“I see…” something about his look seemed dangerous and he turned and walked over to Jane, leaning down and kissing her on the head. “I have to go run an errand, I love you, I’ll be back soon.”

With a look to John the other blond man followed behind leaving the two of you alone in the room. The moment the door shit, Miss Jane looked at you with her best smile. You looked over her body and you came to a quick realization due to the bruises forming on her collarbone, neck, and most prominently on her wrists… did Fitzgerald… oh god…

She noticed your realization and she looked away, almost in shame. She spoke, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I-It only hurt when I fought back… when I relaxed… he was gentle, like when we were still married.”

A look of horror came across your face when you said this, somehow this was a million times more painful than your bullet wound. “Miss Jane… I-I’m sorry… is there anything I can do?”

She sat in silence for a long minute, maybe almost five judging by the ticking on a nearby clock before nodding. “No matter what happens, don’t call me by my old name, my name is the only dignity I have left.”

You nodded in understanding and then the door swung open once more, this time it was definitely more welcome faces, Dr. Stevenson, Alexandre, and Victor, along with the even more welcome faces of Emma and William who must have also been moved here from the luxury liner. They all looked out of breath and there was yelling in the hall and then Miss Jane came to a realization. “Is it Henrik’s ability?”

Dr. Stevenson nodded and Alexandre rushed over to you, the strongest member here, and picked you up like bride in his arms. You all rushed back into the hall and saw all the guards pinned to the ground almost by and invisible force. The unconscious bodies of Margaret Mitchell and Nathaniel Hawthorne were also there, those two specifically looked like they have been tossed around like a chew toy. Miss Jane chuckled at this and looked at Emma and William who were hand in hand as they ran like lovers running off from their wedding. “Seems like Henrik found he least favorite doll to play with.”

—————————

You all found yourself here soon at the safe house of the Armed Detective Agency. You were all able to get changed who needed it, Miss Jane, Emma, and William, back into their usual attire and in Emma’s words, “When I get back to my apartment I am burning that dress Nathaniel put me in, it belongs in hell.” You on the other hand got to pay a visit to the doctor of the agency… best if we just skip past that bit.

So now here you all are sitting in the underground hide out of the Armed Detective Agency, some of you made small talk with who knew each other. Yo saw Alexandre talking to two men, you learned their names as Kunikida and Junichiro, apparently they met on their last missions. You rested your head on Victor’s shoulder as he talked to Ranpo and young blond boy named, Kenji, seemed like a sweet kid. Dr. Stevenson was talking to the agency doctor who was able to heal your leg completely, Dr. Yosano, those two seemed to get along splendidly based on their laughter and chatter with one another. Emma and William were off somewhere doing their own thing, you don’t blame them, they were separated after all and may just need sometime to sit and be. Lewis and Henrik were napping in a corner, Lewis’s large sweater draped over the both of them like a huge blanket, honestly you wondered if they were just friends. Gaston stood in the corner, all alone, it seemed like he had some weight on his mind at the moment that he needed to process right now. As for the leaders of your organization, Miss Jane was at least wearing a mask of her happy self and she talked to President Fukuzawa, thanking him for the agency’s assistance, you couldn’t hear most of their conversations, but you could tell that by the sound of their voices that they got along well enough.

You closed your eyes as you began to drift off on Victor’s shoulder and thought, maybe things are taking a turn for the best now, but only time could tell what horrors lay ahead of you, but at least now you were all together to deal with what came next.

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #original character x reader #bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya #yandere mark twain #yandere mori ougai #yandere Fukuzawa #Yandere Edgar Allan Poe #Yandere John Steinbeck #yandere fyodor

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yanderegameguys · 3 years

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I don't know if requests are open, but if they are can I please request John Seed with a really confident, athletic and tall s/o?

Ohh it’s been a while but let’s try this

John loves your confidence

He loves your athleticism and your height

He and everyone else drool over your 9’6 height (if you don’t get this then it’s a the new height of vampire lady in REVIII that everyone is going crazy over)

Loves to show you and brag about you

Bug if anyone else makes a sort of comment about something else than just agreeing with what he said? Baptism for about 10 minutes and if they are alive they are cleansed and forgiven

John does hate that your taller than him only for the fact that he’s shorter than his brothers and wanted to be taller than at least someone

Will gush about you

Joseph wonders why he won’t propose yet and Jacob wishes he would just shut up

Will kill anyone who makes fun of your height or tries to become your rival

Will make the PEGGIES create a fan club for you with him as the leader

He 💯 supports you

He wants to keep you to himself but he wants everyone to see what a catch he has that actually isn’t a fling

He’s borderline possibly yandere because he’s the type to want to keep you and be possessive of you but he likes to show off the great things that he has so. Make no mistake though because he can become worse in situations that call for it (in his book) like if someone tries to best you at running a record mile or talk bad about you. His torture chamber ain’t just for sure. And yes he likes to show off but anyone showing interest for any other reason than just pure amazement better watch out or they might find themselves tattooed with a scarlet letter

#headcanons #far cry #far cry 5 john seed #john seed headcanons #yandere john seed #john seed #far cry 5 #yandere headcanons

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donat-senpai · 2 days

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Far Cry 5? O.O (I thought the Fandom for it was dead because there wasn't much I found on here)

This is true. Well, or close to the truth. But I still remember fc5 sometimes. This brings about a pleasant nostalgia. So sometimes I go into these tags and re-read everything. Very rarely does anything new appear here. Hooray!

#far cry 5 #yandere joseph seed #joseph seed x reader #far cry 5 headcanons #jacob seed x reader #yandere jacob seed #yandere john seed #john seed x reader

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yanderemommabean · 2 years

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Aah the yandere cowboy anon made my brain think "but what if the Far Cry 5 villains were cowboys??" and now I crave John Seed in a cowboy hat calling the reader 'darlin'

-🤠

Red Dead 2 but without sad cowboy angst at the end

-Mommabean

#Cowboy cult #oh wow watch me write for that one day #mommabean #cowboy bean #bean asks #anon asks #anon confessions are amazing #bean confessions

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englass · 2 years

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I’ll Take Care of You

Pairing(s): Soft!Yandere John Seed x Reader

Warning(s): None? Potentially implied kidnapping; being ill.

Word Count: 1,297

A/N(s): I’ve caught a cold so I wanted soft yandere comfort.

- - -

There were no two ways about it.

You felt shit.

What had started as a prickly throat had progressed into a full on cold. Sinuses blocked and achy, eyeballs feeling heavy, a niggle of a cough and a headache you were starting to think was actually a migraine.

Truly, you felt miserable. And although you had made an effort to get up, make a cup of tea and try to do some work, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You never got ill; a small perk of having an overactive immune system, you’d like to think. But that also meant that when you did get unlucky enough to come down with the lurgies, you came down hard.

And suddenly you found yourself feeling like the human equivalent of Sad Sam.

You felt miserable.

And you couldn’t say you felt any better — after giving in and retreating to your bed and cocooning yourself under the soothing warmth of your heated blanket — when waking up in a room that wasn’t yours.

You didn’t notice at first, too busy nuzzling into your pillow that felt a lot plumper than you remember it being and making content sleepy noises in your groggy throat. It’s only when a yawn escapes you, stiff limbs stretching out under silky sheets as you rub the sleep from your eyes, that your tired brain registers that something is not quite right.

Blinking your heavy eyes open with a sniffle, you come to the rather unusual realisation that this isn’t your room.

With a bit of effort you go to sit up, hoping to get a better look at where you’ve woken up and maybe spark some recognition as to how you got here, before flinching at the gentle touch to your head.

“Ah, easy there, sweetheart,” an oddly familiar voice soothes. “You shouldn’t be trying to get up right now. Lie back down for me. That’s it, that’s my good dear. Oh, my poor darling,” they pityingly click their tongue, “look at you. I hate seeing you like this. Just go back to sleep, dearheart. You need to rest.”

Fingers threading through your hair, easing you into a pleasant lull as nails comfortingly scratch at your scalp, you glance up at them. Brows furrowing at the man sitting next to you, blue eyes soft with concern as his free hand rubs absently at the slip of skin beneath his shirt; a familiar blue silk overlaid by a dark vest.

No, you think bleary eyed, there’s no way that’s…

“... John?” You question shakily.

He nods, eyes sparkling as a small and almost hopeful smile pulls at his lips. “Yes. Yes, it’s me, my dear,” he murmurs, accent lightly catching on the smooth hush of his words. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I just want to look after you. I’m going to look after you…”

Bending forward John Seed places a kiss on your head, the gesture almost chaste if not for the way he lingers, breathing you in with the briefest shudder.

Snuffling, you weakly turn yourself further into the pillow and vainly away from him. Snuggling under the blankets with a soft squeak of a sound. He merely coos at you.

“Ohh, sweet thing. It’s okay, you’re okay. You look so adorable like this, do you know that? So small and vulnerable, safe and tucked away in my bed. Cherished under my tender care, just as you have always meant to be…”

Words trailing off, his hand slides from your hair down to your cheek. Fingertips marvelling over your wan complexion, caressing careful lines and patterns over the skin, applying the slightest bit of pressure as he strokes over and up the bridge of your nose.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he sighs to himself, “to finally have you within my arms. After all this time, waiting and watching… It’s like a dream come true,” he laughs breathlessly, fingers daring as they brush over your parted lips.

“It’s just a shame that it took you getting ill for me to act. I should have done it sooner, but…” the hand at his chest stiffens, curls itself into a fist as if to bunch the scarred skin like fabric, before pulling away. Hand falling with a pat to his jean clad thigh, fingers clawing as he distractedly rubs his palm against the material.

“Well,” smile tight, the shade of his eyes darkens as he meets your uneasy gaze, “I shouldn’t make excuses. Especially, since it’s all worked out. Even if it’s not in the way that I intended it to,” he enunciates with a bitter bite. A scowl overcoming his features as he gets lost in thought.

Although, you are grateful that his change in mood isn’t being reflected in his touching of you. Small mercies.

With a quick duck and turn you sneeze into the bed sheets, another quickly following that has your sinuses aching terribly. A pitiable groaning whine slipping free as you sniffle against the feeling, coughing lightly. Head rising and falling bonelessly back onto the pillow, eyes closing as you sigh miserably.

They flutter open quickly however when you’re slightly startled by being touched again, attentive fingers brushing your hair away from where it has fallen over your face.

Apparently your sneezing had stunned you enough to forget about the weird situation you’ve magically found yourself in.

That’s probably a bad thing.

“Bless you, my dear,” he whispers with a chuckle, simmering hostility mercifully dispelled.

For a fleeting second you consider ignoring the man, burying yourself deeper into the duvet and pretending that you didn’t hear anything, but sadly you are far too polite for your own good to do such a thing.

And you don’t want to test how he’ll react if you don’t. Better safe than sorry.

“... Thank you,” you reply with a sigh and a snuffle.

John preens under your thanks, eyes alight with a beautiful shimmer that momentarily takes your breath away.

You knew the man was attractive, that he had a pretty pair of eyes that you could get lost in if given the chance, but until now you never would have imagined just how utterly enchanting they are. Like the glow of the midday sun catching on ice, twinkling like crystal, colour a captivating azure that glitters between hues of blue; a shade for every wink of emotion.

Never have you known of eyes so beautiful.

“You're welcome,” he utters quietly, snapping you out of your awed staring.

There’s a blissful moment of silence, disturbed only by the sounds of breathing and the soft shift of silk.

“You really should rest, darling,” he says, the back of his tattooed fingers brushing sweetly over your cheek. “We can always talk more later, once you have gotten a good night's sleep. You look exhausted.”

And you feel exhausted, too. All the way down to your bones.

A good rest is what you need, you know and agree with a sniffle, but a part of you is still unsure of whatever exactly is going on here. You should be in your bed, not here; not in John’s. You can’t even say that you’re completely convinced that he’s actually here, in front of you. He shouldn’t be. It’s not possible…

But as he continues to touch you, lovingly stroking your hair and humming comforting words of praise and care, you find those worries fading. The world narrows down, until his voice is fuzzy and all you are aware of is your breathing and his hand upon you; and then the light press and scratch of something else against your head.

An echo follows, and then oblivion.

“I love you, sweetheart.

And I am going to take such good care of you…”

#the want for comfort has been a great motivator lately #john seed #john seed x reader #yandere john seed #yandere john seed x reader #soft yandere #yandere #my writing #fc5 fanfic #far cry 5 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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undead-afton · 5 years

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The Seed's yandere couple headcanons

(Forgive me if my grammar/spelling is off)

✝JOSEPH✝

✝He first see's you both at the project

✝He falls instantly but at first is confused

✝At first he feels he's being greedy and sinful

✝but how could a love so pure and holy be sinful?

✝He's in love with how devoted you are two each other, such a holy union so sweet and full of light

✝He ends up getting the cult to kidnap you both, this isn't the first and certainly not the last time they will

✝He introduces you too the cult as his spouse's, he wasn't worried they would object after all no one questions the father

🐺JACOB🐺

🐺 He sees you and your s/o for the first time when he's taking one of the younger judges to town because if he is ever going to pass them as some husky breed they need to behave around people🐺

🐺It's not love at first sight though🐺

🐺The second time he sees you two is when it happens, your both fighting for your lives and he admires how well you two work together and how strong you make each other🐺

🐺There's no confusion he wants you both, and he doesn't care if it's seen as greedy or sinful. You two are His. No exceptions🐺

🐺he gets you both into his region and makes sure you never leave🐺

🐺Because now you both are his pack, his mates, and pretty much part of the family🐺

🐺And he's never letting you go🐺

🌆JOHN🌆

🌆He first see's you and your s/o when you first move to hope country

🌆At first he thinks your just another couple of sinners or possible Eden's gate members

🌆But then He sees how nice you both are and how you greet him with the sweetest smiles he's ever seen and how loving you both are two each other

🌆He immediately Speaks to Joseph

🌆He starts digging into your backgrounds

🌆He gets his home ready for all three of you, your favorite shampoos, magazines, Candles anything

🌆Also John is a very needy and touch-starved man, we all know this, so in his eyes what's better than two people to be loving and devoted to you? Even if it's against your will.

🥀Faith🥀

🥀Faith was wandering around the henbane river when she meets you both

🥀You and your s/o are on a date holding hands, kissing, giggling

🥀Shes head over heals as soon as she sees you

🥀She, much like Joseph, is worried it's greed that's corrupting her but Joseph assures her a love so holy could never be sinful

🥀She keeps you both hopped up on bliss and keeps you locked away from the sinful world the only people you see are each other and her

🥀She loves just curling up and cuddling with you both for hours

🥀She loves how sweet and happy you to are like a teenage romance

🥀And she just loves being apart of it, even if you both arent completely aware

#Yandere John seed #Yandere Jacob seed #Yandere Joseph seed #Yandere Faith seed #Yandere far cry #Yandere far cry 5 #Yandere

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mrsegbert · 4 years

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Yandere!Seed family moodboards

#far cry #far cry 5 #jacob seed #joseph seed #john seed #faith seed #project at eden's gate #eden's gate #hope county #farcry 5 #fc 5 #fc5 #yandere #yandere aesthetic #yandere moodboard

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heartofsnark · 4 years

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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.”

“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?!”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #yandere #tw: noncon #polyseed #dahlia hale

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