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byuntrash101 · 11 months

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lovers on the sun

reader x dom!mingi ft. yunho angst | smut | mdni 4.8k you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for. nsfw tags under the cut

plot, outlaw!au, friends to strangers to lovers (?), hurt/comfort (the hurt part doesn't go too hard dw), a lil' angsty but lowkey wholesome, cheating, mutual pinning, good ending, yunho is mentionned but does not appear. nsfw: nipple play, body whorship (f), pet names (baby, doll) oral (f), slight begging, unprotected sex (i mean they didnt have a choice back then), mingi in the cowboy hat and leather coat (im weak for him </3), big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, cock warming, he's madly in love with you

playlist: jeannette - el muchacho de los ojos trites, david guetta - lovers on the sun, amy whinehouse - love is a losing game

a/n: thank you so much @ssaboala for hosting this amazing collab. and thank you @hwaightme for helping me so much and brainstorming ideas. also i really recommand you listen to the playlist it will for sure put you in the nostalgic western mood <3

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You can’t help but be worried as you wake up to a cold bed. You haven’t seen Yunho in a couple of days. You wonder if he’s fine as you look out the window of your room to the cornfields. It’s just after dawn but the hot summer air is already laying heavy over the fields, making the green and yellow stems undulate.

You sigh heavily, imagining your husband on his horse in his uncomfortable and sweaty uniform combing the streets, the plains, the fields, the whole town, the whole state, maybe even the whole country. All of that on an empty stomach and sleep deprived.

But you knew he wasn’t going to come home before he caught him. Song Mingi. Ever since he was appointed sheriff it has been his life goal to catch him. The public enemy number one. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much blood this man had on his hands. He pillaged and robbed and murdered. Always slippery like an eel and managing to get out of justice’s grasp.

Until a couple of days ago where he made a fatal mistake. Your husband jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and mobilized the entire department to look for the man. He was hurt and hiding somewhere. He only needed to be found. The dangerous outlaw reduced to a defenseless flower only waiting to be plugged. This time he knew he was done for and Yunho was going to finally catch him and bring him to justice and ultimately to the gallows. Where your husband thought the fugitive’s righteous place was. Behind the church and six feet under.

You chuckled humorlessly to yourself at the name. You used to know this name. You used to know it very well. Or at least you thought you did. You used to be close to Song Mingi. The three of you were. Mingi, Yunho and you. You were just a bunch of teenagers, you didn’t have a worry in the world. But you grew up and Yunho joined the force as Mingi did and you can only guess power got to his head. He eventually got caught involved in shady business with even shadier people. Until he left and became the fugitive. The outlaw you only knew by the wanted posters put up everywhere in town.

His name lost all familiarity. But your heart couldn’t forget about his soft half smile. About the warmth pulling in his orbs when the three of you stayed up in the hill to watch the stars, sleeping under the open night sky, despite the snakes and coyotes. Even the crackling fire couldn’t rivalize with the blaze of his sharp eyes on you. You couldn't forget his rough hand snaking its way on your nape, pulling you closer to lay the gentlest kiss on your lips. You nervously glanced over at Yunho sleeping next to the both you. You felt nervous even if this happened long before you got married, long before he confessed to you. And for Mingi there was not a trace of doubt on his sharp features, no evil in his eyes. Only love. You thought at least.

That was the very last night you saw him. The next day he fled to the valley and proceeded with his life of crime. Your heart ached again, how could he have chosen that life… over what he had. Why would he choose a blood stained pile of shriveled dollar bills instead of this night on the hills with you… instead of this kiss? Instead of you?

You shook your head trying to forget about the uncomfortable feeling of your skin crawling as the wholesome memory turned into bitter dormant ache. You have accepted it over the years. Truth was you never knew Song Mingi… You only knew about the sheep but never about the wolf.

But then again you have to get on with your day, and carry on. Life goes on and doesn’t wait. You have to take care of the animals in the barn.

Since Yunho was the town’s sheriff earned enough money for the both of you it wasn’t necessary for you to have a huge farm. A couple of pigs, some hens, two horses and a cow was well enough and tending to them was the only labor you ought to do.

You traded your nightgown for a dress more appropriate to work in. A light blue flowy ankle length dress with long sleeves and a high neckline that was going to protect your skin from the hot sun, but would still let you breathe through the light material.

You hoped in your worn out brown leather ankle boots and headed to the barn. First of all, you start by checking if the hens laid eggs, you gently push the chickens to harvest the six eggs and place them in your basket that you set aside then you go to feed the cow. You go to take a big serving of hay and you make a mental note that you’ll have to go by the neighboring farm and purchase some more because you are running out. Maybe the cow and horses have been especially hungry lately.

You place the hay in the big manger and head to the fence to let the cow take a stroll in the prairie next to the house.

As you reach out the fence, you nearly scream. The handle is covered in blood. The colors leave your face as you realize that the traces are fresh as you see one single drop on the dusty floor. You squint and realize there’s a trail of blood going out the barn. You follow the trail circling the barn and landing behind it, the trail disappearing behind tall weeds and bushes that you had left unattended for quite a while.

You pushed aside the leaves and discovered some rags maculated with blood and at the end of the trail a man, lying, his back resting against a small trunk, sitting on a pile of hay. Barely holding off.

Mingi didn't even know why he dragged his mutilated body out here to rot in the sun, he didn't know why he took that chance. He just had to. If he wasn't going to see the sun rise again tomorrow then he at least wanted to see it set on a familiar face. A face he held in his memory so dearly. Even after all these years.

After all this time, when he finally sees it, the face he pulled through thick and thin for. Your face. Your face emerging from the bushes. There are not enough words in the world for him to express the relief he feels. He doesn’t have enough time to carefully curate them and voice them outloud. So he only chooses to smile.

You, on the other hand, felt your heart jumping in your throat, the frantic muscle getting stuck there, making you swallow thickly as your eyes grow in surprise. You have trouble believing your senses. Have you stayed in the sun for too long? Have you contracted yellow fever? Can you trust your eyes, reflecting this image of the past? A figure you thought (and maybe even hoped) you would never see again? But you know your eyes aren’t deceiving you the second his lips curl into a half smile, rounding up only one of his cheeks. The familiar sight takes you back to the hills, to the crackling bonfire, to the starry sky, to the warmth of his orbs. Even if you see the red tint of diluted blood on his teeth and the way pain twits his eyebrows. It’s the same. The same smile you remembered.

“Mingi?” you finally breathe out, broken voice hindered by your heart still sitting in your throat. Barely audible. But still heard by the beaten man.

“Hi doll” his deep voice echoed yours, hardly louder than a whisper.

There’s no resentment, no hatred, no evil in his voice, in his eyes. And for that instant you forget about the endless tales of horrors, about the murders and the blood and you forget about the wolf. Because you see only the sheep, hurt and needing your help.

You throw yourself on your knees next to him, you wrap your arms around him, careful to avoid the wounds.

Mingi closes his eyes and you lean against him as he suppresses a cough. He almost forgot about the smell of your hair, about the warmth of your hands, about the sound of your voice. Almost, but he didn’t. He could never even if he tried. He could lose everything but you. And if you were only a memory then it was all he needed.

***

You brought the man inside, limping and leaning on your side. You sat him in the wooden and creaking chair of the dining room. The tall man grunted as he settled down.

You kneeled next to him. And very carefully, you lifted his long leather coat to uncover the blood maculated shirt.

"So... How does it look doc?" Mingi joked, even going as far as to lightly chuckle before the sharp pain on his side wiped the half smile off his face.

"Let me help you" you said, carefully peeling the fabric off, the coagulated blood stuck to the opened wound, making Mingi wince as he felt the air blow on his sweaty skin. You ran your finger across his skin, carefully avoiding the wound.

Your touch was so soft, so gentle. Mingi sighed, closing his eyes. Your tenderness almost making him forget about the pain jabbing him. It's been so long, so so long since Mingi has felt this. He hasn't felt a soft touch in a lifetime, a contact that was free of any kind of aggression, that didn't demand anything from him, that only intended to soothe him.

It's been so long since he's felt safe.

That was the word. He felt safe. Safe with you even though he was half naked, wounded and unarmed. He felt safe.

You took your time to treat the wound, cleaning it with what you had on hand, which was the rest of a bottle of home distilled bourbon, warm water and clean rags. You patched him up and handed him his hat back.

"You should go, Mingi" you started after a long silence. You tried to conceal the lump inside your throat as you enunciated the heavy words.

Mingi looked up at you, grabbing his hat. He didn't want to go.

"Y/n.. I-"

"You know he might come back. If he finds you here he's gonna..." you hesitated. “Finish the job”

"You mean kill me?" Mingi looked you dead in the eye, a coldness laying latent in his orbs, a coldness that gave you shivers along your spine even with the hot sun heating up the windows of the small dining room.

You closed your eyes shut trying to chase away tears. After all these years and all he’s done. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

Mingi wanted to scream. Why did he get to be with you, to touch you, to lay next to you every night while he was perpetually running, fleeing and living on the edge of the world like a wild dog. Barely surviving on the sole memory of you and the love he felt and feels for you.

"Mingi..." you started hesitantly. You had the chance to ask now, maybe this opportunity would never represent itself again.

"Why did you kiss me that night?"

Mingi’s anger evaporated into smoke as his eyes snapped to you. For all these years he had feared you somehow resented him. That somehow the tales of his life came back to you and poisoned your heart. He feared that you too saw him as the bandit, the outlaw he had become. But there was no hatred in your quavering voice, no bitterness pooling in your orbs. Only incomprehension and sorrow.

Your eyes were glazed over by a sheen of budding tears, drooping in sorrow and you looked up intensely at the man.

You waited for an answer, you waited long enough, you waited for years. And waiting again for those few seconds was too much.

“Why did you kiss me if you were going to leave me Mingi?” this time you called his name. And Mingi felt like the question had wrapped around his heart and was holding it tightly, squeezing it until the agonizing organ gave out.

“What did he tell you?” Mingi finally spoke, tipping his cowboy hat down, making sure to conceal his face.

“What?”

“What did Yunho tell you?” Mingi reiterated, this time his voice broke, echoing the shattering of his heart.

“I-” you started, stuttering.

“I never did any of those things, y/n” he finally rips the hat off his face, the disheveled and sweaty hair adding a layer of urgency to his state of despair as he raises his voice in frustration. “Yunho planted the evidence! He framed me! Because he couldn't stand that I was to become sheriff, he wanted to control the city, he wanted the power and he wanted… you…”

Mingi took a deep breath, his voice softening to a whisper. “He wanted you for himself. Because that night I-... I-” Mingi hesitated as you hung on his lips. “I wanted to marry you, y/n.”

You felt the blood vanish from your face. You became livid and your vision blurred, your world was crumbling before your very eyes.

“This is impossible” you whispered more to yourself than anything else.

“In the morning I told Yunho that I had kissed you and wanted to marry you and he couldn't bear it. So he framed me as a bad man to get me out of your life. I ain't no saint! I know! But the rest of it, I only did because I needed to survive. I stole to feed and killed to defend myself. Never in cold blood. Y/n, you have to believe me!”

Mingi’s words were mushing together barely making any sense in your ears that were already rigging, you felt dizzy, you felt ill. How could that be the man you married? The man you shared your life with. The man that looked at you with the most innocent big round eyes. The man that you knew cherrich justice above all else, so much that he didn’t care that sword of justice he was wielding struck his best friend because he was led astray and that was the treatment reserved for criminals.

But that was all an act. It was never about righteousness and justice, it was about vengeance and envy.

Your knees gave out and you stumbled onto Mingi’s chest. He caught you in time, wrapping his strong arms around you, grunting as you pressed your weight onto the fresh wound.

Your life was collapsing. Your chest started to heave up and down rapidly, your heart racing as your reality faded to black. Nothing to anchor yourself to. Nothing real, nothing you could hold on to to keep yourself afloat. Only lies and smoke. And you fell and fell into panic and into Mingi.

Suddenly you were back again, back from the darkness and you looked at him to find your peace again, both lost in this familiar silence. He protectively wrapped his strong arms around you, and soothingly pressed your head against his chest, the leather of his long coat brushed against your cheek as Mingi held you just like that. He felt his warmth, you heard his heart beating against his ribs and you felt… him. Not the outcast, not the outlaw, but just your friend Mingi.

Ever so gently, with a softness you had never ever known from a man, even your husband, he wrapped his hands made rough from labor around your chin and gently lifted your face upwards, you found that Mingi’s eyes were as deep as the sea, just as mysterious and alluring, strangely welcoming.

And slowly, very slowly Mingi closed the distance between you. Giving you all the time in the world to voice your desire for him to stop if you felt that way. But you didn't want him to stop, instead you gripped at the long coat tighter, somehow afraid that he too was a mirage, a body made of haze that was just another lie. You had to make sure he, at least, was real. True.

And he was.

When your lips connected you felt as if your body has gone up into flames, open fire bursting from your chest to your heart, convincing you to close your eyes, and give complete access to Mingi. But even though he didn’t that use trust to his advantage, he didn't engulfed himself into you. Instead he gently deepened the kiss, taking the time to let you warm up as your fingers relaxed around the worn out leather. Mingi’s hands were getting to know you, caressing the soft cotton of your dress. His rough palms contrasted greatly with the softness of his touch.

Slowly he parted his lips, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth inviting your tongue into a dance, giving a few kitten licks and getting to taste you, you moaned when his hands reached down to the small of your back.

“Mingi” you breathed against his mouth. There was no words to describe what that simple word did to him. Simply his name gently murmured like this. It was like having an angel speaking of the devil's name so fondly, so gently. He didn't feel worthy but there was plenty of time tomorrow for guilt. Today Mingi only had time for you.

He gently laid you back onto the wooden dining table and you hoisted yourself up on your elbows, he leaned over you as his kiss spilled from your lips to your neck. You whined once when your lips mourned the loss of his warmth and once when you felt his hot and wet tongue glide across the thin skin of your neck, you let your head fall back as Mingi progressed further down until he’s met with the collar of your dress. You don't want to lose the way he feels on your skin so your hands quickly busy themselves with the buttons, practically ripping them off to take the thick fabric that separated you from Mingi off you while he watches with this signature half smile, satisfied to see you so eager to expose yourself to him.

As soon as you’re done with buttons he latched on your skin again, sucking on your collar bone going down and then up the curve of your breasts until he reached your bra he swiftly reached around to unclasp it, he drew back to see the way your beautiful breasts spilled out of the article, gently falling over at each side of your chest. Mingi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes avidly roamed over you, taking your form in.

The way his eyes turned sharp as he looked at you made you squeeze your thigh together as your felt arousal pool into your lower stomach, heat spilling into your underwear.

“So pretty” he murmured before he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, immediately hardening into a tight nub. He flicked his tongue on the erected knob while his warm hand kneaded the other one, perfectly distributing his attention to your body, already feeling sensitive. You arched your back and pushed his face further into your skin when he sucked on the hardened nipple, making your moan his name.

“Fuck- Mingi” you panted. “Don’t stop”

Mingi briefly stood back up to take the long coat off, only harboring the leather vest that let you admire his toned arms flexing as he ripped the coat off to throw it over one of the chairs. He didn't even bother taking the dress off you, only flipping it over your stomach as he pulled down your underpants, leaving your bottom half completely nude.

Suddenly coy you pressed your thighs together, shielding your modesty from his ardent gaze, he looked back up at you with knitted brows, such desperation swimming in his eyes, as if he absolutely needed to see you.

“Please” he exhaled. “Please let me see you, y/n” he pleaded.

And you finally parted your legs, first your feet then your knees and finally your thighs.

“Fuck” Mingi cursed as he palmed his aching lengh throught his pants. He was finally seeing you, like how he imagined you a thousand times. But even the wildest dreams could never live up to that reality, to the truth of you, you were breathtaking. The way your beautiful center was already swollen with need, twitching in anticipation to be touched, your folds covered with the glistening sheen of your juices lazily running down your entrance.

Mingi felt like he’d finally seen the light. Like redemption was within grasp, somehow contained within your holy form. He felt like he needed to worship you, like he needed to get on his knees and so he did.

He kneeled in front of you, snaking his arms around your things and grasping at the supple flesh to pull you closer to him, bringing his lips close to your most private of places.

You felt heat rush to your face and chest as your heart raced, uncontrollably hammering into your chest, menacing to break free anytime as Mingi dug his nose right into your folds.

“Oh my g-” you gasped as soon as he made contact with you. Your head immediately spinning, your core quivering and demanding more.

Mingi planted one soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, then went to your entrance where he flattened his tongue to swiped it across, spreading your folds and scooping as much as your slick as possible, earning a whimper from you. Mingi wanted more of this, of your sweet taste, more of your honey coating his tongue, more of your beautiful voice singing soft melodies into his ears, more of your beautiful face looking down at him in pleasure, glossy eyes pleading for more.

“Baby” he moaned against you before burying his face into you, flicking his tongue on your clit as you moaned again, louder this time. Mingi concentrated on this part of you, assaulting your clit with flicks after flicks, jolts after jolts of divine pleasure, spreading heat in all of your limbs. Mingi felt your thighs tense up in his hold and he suddenly let go.

You whined as you felt your desperate center throb for more of him. You looked up at him right on time to see him sink not one but two long fingers inside your tight heat. Immediately curling them into your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, once again you let out a lewd sound that bounces off the walls making the hairs on Mingi’s nape stand and his length leak arousal.

“You like that?” he asked, deep voice a little more impatient.

“Yes!” you exhaled. “Please more, more” you begged, your eyes coming back into focus.

“Of course, doll” he said before coming back down to your demanding center. He pumped his long fingers in and out of your heat, each time your eager little cunt pulled them back inside, tightly gripping around them. He wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking and licking until you were on the verge of your release.

“Please” you said, your hand flying between your legs to keep Mingi’s face exactly where it was. “Don’t stop” you breathed, your thighs tensing, your swollen clit pulsing under Mingi’s wet and hot tongue.

“Fuck” you said, pressing on his face a little harder which made him smirk agaisnt you. “I'm cumming” you said in a strangled moan, you legs trembling your orgasming center gushing more and more of your honey , completely quenching Mingi’s thirst for your sweet nectar, walls fluttering around his fingers as he guided you down.

Mingi hurriedly kicked his pants off him and stood between your legs, large cock resting heavily in his palm, the head made red and shiny with precum.

“Please give me another one of those” he whispered with edginess, deep voice strained with need. “I wanna see and hear that again.” he rubbed his cock against your folds, mixing both of your essences into one, drenching his length with your slick. “Please this time cum on my cock” he gently pushed his tip inside you, closing his eyes shut as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock head, finishing your previous orgasm around his cock, your pretty little pussy pulsing around him as he continued to push himself in, breathing heavily to keep himself from bursting on the spot.

“Fuck” he cried, finally peeling his eyes open. “You feel so good around me baby” he breathed. “You’re so pretty, so perfect” he praised you. Taking a good look at you. You were stunning, beads of sweat running down your temples, your breasts spilling from the half undone dress, said dress completely wrinkled and roughed up, not hiding anything away from him anymore.

“Ok” you said, out of breath, pushing a dampened strand of hair away from your face. “Make me cum around your cock, Mingi” you said, spreading your legs even wider, giving Mingi an even better view of his cock splitting you in two.

“Fuck-” Mingi cursed again, immediately taking you up on the offer. He started to pull out only to push back in again, just as gently. The way his girth split you open made you moan his name. You whimpered at the delicious stretch of your walls accommodating his generous mengh as he filled you up to the brim so perfectly almost like you were made for him entirely.

“Please harder, Mingi” you said, your fingers pulling into the leather cropped vest, where you could see from underneath his toned abs and belly button.

“Of course, doll” he said as he picked the pace, a wince of pleasure sneaking on his face when you gripped even tighter around him, letting out a satisfied groan.

With each powerful thrust he was grazing against your g spot making your moan and arch your back, pushing your hips into him everytime he pushed himself back in.

“Fuck you’re so good to me baby” he panted, a large bead of sweat running from his hairline along the bridge of his sharp and long noze.

You only replied with more moans, growing louder and louder as you both fucked each other, rocking the dining table recklessly the sound of your skin clashing and filling up the space along with groans and grunts.

“Baby, I'm close” Mingi said in a strangled and high pitched moan that was far from the usual deep voice he used.

“Me too” you answered “Please inside” you struggled to make sense. “Please cum inside me”

You didnt care about the consequences right now, moreover you weren't even thinking about them. You only thought about Mingi deep inside of you giving you the raw, rough unfiltered love you have been needing for years. Ever since he kissed you back on the hills. And suddenly you were back at the hilltop again.

Your body started to shake as you came undone again as Mingi delivered large and thick ropes of burning cum inside your heat, your name slipping off his lips a thousand times. Both of your bodies going up in flames, throwing each other in the fire that lighted you both as he kissed you again.

You pulsed uncontrollably around him, as he became sloppy, his thrusts more shallow and irregular until they came to a stop. He crashed over your body, panting, chest heaving up and down as you stroked his hair. He stayed inside you for a while, his cum lazily dripping out of you. He didn't want to lose this connection with you, he wanted to stay right there. Right here with you.

***

“Come with me” Mingi said as he was ready to hop on one of your horses, as the sun was setting over the fields.

“Mingi I-” you started.

“Forget about him” Mingi cut you off before you have a chance to mention your husband's name. He took your hands into his big and rough ones. “Come back with me to the hills, y/n” he said. You opened your mouth to speak again but Mingi didn't let you talk. He was afraid of your answer. “We won't have much but we will have each other. And if I have you then I have everything” he pressed his chest against yours and you heard his heart beat into your ear, testifying of his true feelings, much deeper than any words.

This was your chance to let the deceiving lies behind to embrace a life of true love. And you took your chance. As you hoped on the horse right behind Mingi, leaving the empty house behind. You held onto him, your fingers found their way and intertwining with the leather again as you rode into the sunset, lifting the dry dirt in your wake. The stars finally crossing as your destinies took the same path. The sun meeting you on the horizon, inviting you with it.

Two star crossed lovers on the sun.

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a/n: phewww it is done! i cant even begin to explain the STRUGGLE i had while writing this but i hope it turned out good? maybe? it was wayyyy out of my comfort zone if you liked it please tell me in the comments or reblog (pls don't use the community labels please) or leave a nice ask. that would mean so much <3. anyways thank you for the awesome collab anne @ssaboala. don't forget to check out the other authors' amazing fics here. byeee~

#ateez smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez mingi #ateez #kpop smut #mingi #mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard hours #ateez angst #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #mingi fanfic #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #mingi x you #smut fanfiction

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honestsycrets · 8 months

Note

HELLO, HELLO! Okay, so this drabble prompt/idea is kinda sorta in the vein of Querido (I only think about Old Western Miguel now I cannot help it pls forgive me head empty only man and hörse), so pls skip if you're not inspired or in the mood for more in this genre!

Still, I offer you this: Sheriff Miguel.

He's someone all the women have their eyes on, and he'd have his eyes on them, too, if he were younger. But he has a baby girl to worry about, a runaway wife to forget, and a town to keep an eye on, especially when a woman from the big city pays the little down a visit.

He meets her when he loses Gabriella in the market's crowd, only to find her tugging on a fine dress belonging to a fine woman.

(P.S. reading your writing has inspired me to get back into writing my own reader insert stuff 💖 really love your work, keep it up!!)

bumblebee | sheriff!miguel x dressmaker!reader

❛ pairing | sheriff-singleparent!miguel o'hara x dressmaker!reader

❛ type | extended drabble, not-explicit, wc: 2600ish

❛ summary | miguel loses his daughter-- and finds a part of himself he thought was long past dead.

❛ tags | self-edited, querido au, f!reader, sheriff!miguel, dressmaker!reader, implied parental abandonment, some mention of thievery, widowed!reader, mostly fluff, some mention of death, spanish not translated.

❛ sy's notes | i intended this to be a drabble but... it's quite a bit longer. anon, i hope you end up writing to your heart's content.

Miguel ain’t the kinda man women really need. He’s the kinda man they think they want. A big man with a big name, sure, but he’s saddled with what their fathers colloquially call baggage. A little three-year-old girl with ambitions of rolling on out of this little town by rolling on out of his fingertips.

“Oye, Gwen,” he catches the arm of his deputy. She’s out on the town just as he was, making rounds about the grassy plain where the market was booming. With too few stalls, the marketgoers visit full wooden wagons chock-full of goods. This year, there were new boxes of small circular chocolates. Once every year, his quiet little town became a bustling fuck fest with foreigners running a muck of it all. As sheriff, he just had to deal with it.

“What’s it, sheriff?” she asks. “Something wrong?”

“You seen my littlin anywhere? Swore she was right here.”

This is his penance for fooling around with the hearts of pretty women: chasing him his own little girl and minding the crowd. His long, slicked-back hair was all kinds of out of place, whirling over his wrinkled forehead. He shoves a strand of grey hair back in place out of his dark eyes and scans his little town. She could’ve slipped into any creaky old building that wasn't locked up or hitched a ride on a wagon she didn’t belong on. Or, alternatively…

“Miguel! Rio saw her by the sweets.” Former Sherriff Morales tells him, standing by his son’s stall of sweet roasted corn. Ordinarily, he’d give it a begrudging visit. Miguel whirls around on his muddy leather boots, throwing him a nod of thanks with Gwen short on his tail.

“Sounds promisin’,” she says. “Could be searchin’ for Lyla or Peter.”

“Thank you for the help, Sheriff,” he grumbled, shoving his way past a sea of cream, brown, and black dresses. Gwen could spider her way through the groups of people with her comparatively slender frame. As a consequence of Miguel’s hulking frame, he’s markedly slower in his search.

“Ain’t here either,” Gwen hops back to his side. “You sure she wandered off?”

"She had to."

The alternative was… well, he didn't want to think about it. Out of his periphery, he caught the glimmer of polished metal. He spots his daughter’s peachy dress, bundled up with a fat white bow complete with a bell. He put the thing on thinking that, ideally, his little girl would jingle up some hell of noise if she got lost. Some good that bell did.

“You lost mi amor?”

Lost. The word stands out to him first, all dressed up in a sugar cube of a voice. His Gabriella tugs on a stranger’s long gown, eyes pricked with tears streaming down her cheeks. Of all the people-- she couldn’t just pick on someone she knew? Head to Rio’s hostel, find Deputy Gwen stalking around, or even Hobie’s bum ass strumming a tune on the old stage. No, she’s with a strange woman.

“Now don’t you cry,” you dab away the stray tears with an embroidered handkerchief. “I’ll find you home.”

You’re not from here because you’re all done up like a buttercup in spring when the women here only broke out color for church. Corset sucking in the finest assets, a buttercream bustle underneath that buttercup yellow skirt. Hair up in a waterfall of curls and covered by a small slouched hat of flowers. You held a parasol for the evening sun, keeping it off your tanned skin.

“There,” Miguel set his hands on his hips, catching his head in a shake. Gwen leans over on the ball of her feet and stares straight down the barrel of a path.

“My my,” she says. “Ain’t she a looker. Why are you-- You look good, Miguel.”

She’s caught on his frantic fiddling. The way Miguel straightens his tie into his waistcoat and checks the chain that drapes along his side. He checks the time on his cracked pocketwatch and spins it between his fingers. Gwen leans up to flick a stray strand of hair away from his face.

“Think so?”

“Entirely presentable.”

"¿De veras?" Miguel clears his throat, “Best be on my way to get her.” Miguel loops his fingers on his fine leather belt and waltzes right on up to your stall of hand-sewn dresses.

For once in his life, he feels underdressed. A man sets some coins in your hand, plucking up a small communion dress for his daughter. With ruffles, lace, and the occasional ribbon. He’s not sure how much luck you’d have selling more than scraps of ribbon in this little town. You set the coins aside, turning your attention back to his daughter who-- somehow, got a brand new ribbon bundled in her ponytail between his fiddling and the walk over.

“Buenas tardes,” he clears his throat, whipping out his metal badge. “I’m Sherriff O’Hara.”

“Encantada, Sheriff O’Hara. You’re looking as pretty as a penny this fine afternoon. Can’t be wanting any of my dresses. My name is… well, how can I help you?”

“Papa,” Gabriella coos as if this whole mess wasn’t on her tiny little shoulders. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, not yet.

“Yes, mami, Sheriff O’Hara. Do you know old Sheriff O’Hara?” Miguel suppresses his delight as you lift her up onto your hip. Most days, he didn’t notice his own melancholy. Coming home to his little girl soothed all that like a good helping of booze after a bad wound. “She likes you.”

You sure talk pretty. He clears his throat, pulling on the sloppy tie that feels a whole lot hotter all of a sudden. He shouldn't be acting like this. Has it really been that long since he’s been with a girl? He couldn't go to the saloon and pick any one of those lovesick girls. The town wouldn’t continually elect a loose man. Miguel’s eyes catch the flickering gold of a bumblebee locket on your chest. He traces the curve of its wings, wrapping around a crusted gem.

“‘Course she does, she’s my girl. I lost Gabi up in the crowd flow.”

“You lost her? You can’t tell me you’re the kinda man that does it all. Where is your wife?”

Where is your wife? The question tormented him. He could do it all. Managing the sloppy, slow thieves and putting down the occasional drunken brawl. At the end of the night, he came home to his empty home and saw his little girl. Miguel’s gaze danced along the puffy clouds in the sky. The fluffy clouds drift the same as usual, the same old slow draw, unknowledgeable about the change in his life. He suppresses the distant melancholy in his voice in surfacing old memories.

“Ain’t got a wife. She ran off on me with some wolf. Usually, I got a sitter for my girl but, she came down with a fever.”

“A wolf?” you repeat after him, “Why, you mean a gentleman?”

A gentleman, he scoffs under his breath.

“If you wanna call him that. He was an outlaw.”

“I’m mighty sorry, Sheriff.” You looked at the little girl in your arms. Gabriella’s small fingers fiddle with the glimmering gold pendant on your chest. He throws her a look-- behave. She’s not paying attention one bit. You set your parasol down, freeing the necklace and setting it in her tiny fist. “I’m a whole widow myself. Lost my man in the war and never got the chance to have one’a my own.”

“You don’t say. You on the market?”

“On the market like cattle?” you teased. If he’s not mistaken, that shy smile of yours was all his. Maybe you like him. It's a signal that he could keep going.

“Coño, no. You’re too fine for that,” the words are buttery smooth, but upon discovering how the words may come off, he realizes he might be sliding into a trap on the back of those words. Your lips are slightly agape, half in shock. “Pretty. You’re too pretty.”

“Oh, Sheriff, don’t worry your head,” you adjust Gabriella on your hip, swaying in place like it was natural. “I ain’t one to take offense to pretty words. Suppose you want your niña back?”

There went his chance.

"That'd be best," he slides his hands underneath Gabriella’s tiny arms to pick her up. The pendant she held clattered free from her grip, nestled in the deep grass. You were about to pick it up when a scrawny thing of a man swiped it from the grass. For an instant, Miguel thought it might be Pavi, who loved to be helpful in the most annoying ways. Catching doors even when it's men, dropping his scarf on mud for girls, a charming and shy kid. It isn’t, though, it’s that weasel he seems to be throwing in the pin every damn week, bolting off in a full-on run.

“Ay, not my locket!” you gasped, plucking your skirts over your boots.

“Maldito niño--” Miguel stops you, sliding Gabriella back into your arms. Not that she was complaining, tiny hands slapping together in a rendition of applause as Miguel darted after him, his booming steps beating the ground. “Get back here, kid!”

“Dios, you sure have a busy papa. I'm sure he’ll back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.” You looked between the little girl nestled comfortably in your arms and the parting sea of the crowd. Gwen zooms past, eliciting another round of jovial laughter from Gabriella O’Hara. She does love a good game.

It ain’t that Miguel wants to leave his girl with any old fool that waltzed on into his town. But he knows his community, knows they’d not leave him out to dry, and knows that taking his daughter on a town-wide chase with a skinny little weasel around town is not the move. Especially not if he has a gun, which he did, because of course he did. Now, the man has a jail cell and Miguel has a crook in his neck from where the buffoon fell through the crooked second floor of the post office.

He works the sore muscle the whole way back to your wagon. It’s high time for eating. His stomach was raging after the scent of someone’s pulled pork, the roasted sweetness of corn. If we wanted to be presentable then, he sure wasn’t now. Dust was a second skin on his pants and aged boots. He walks past the platform where Hobie plays a tune with his banda. Most vendors were wrapping right on up for some proper debauchery.

He finds you there, swaying to the beat of the music with Gabriella hanging in your arms. Her tiny hands were around an ear of elote already. Guess she extorted a snack out of you.

“One gold locket,” Miguel heaves out the words as he digs in his pocket, whirling the golden chain into your small hand. You flip it over once, then twice, examining it for any defects. “Better to keep that tucked away out here. Puts a target on your back right quick.”

“Muchísimas gracias, sheriff. You're a sweetheart,” you reach out, grazing his scratchy cheek with your supple lips. Gabriella is flatly squished between his sweaty chest and yours. She’s fallen asleep flat against your chest. “You don’t know how much this necklace means to me.”

There are whispers from the women he’s turned down. The viejitas who have been trying to set him up for a full-on year now, those who told him he needed to find a girl as soon as possible to marry. He didn’t want to. Not unless it made sense.

“Yes, well, you could tell me,” Miguel finally picks his daughter from your arms. She’s out like a light. “If you want.”

“It was my mami's, once upon a time. She gave it to me on my wedding day," you explain. "It's all I got left of her. I wonder what she'd think of me these days, travelin' town to town like I got secrets."

"You ever think of settlin' down again?" He turns his gaze past Hobie’s banda, to the yellowing sky. The sun is setting out over the horizon, casting warm orange and soft pink into the air. The road is full of wagons. The clip-clop of horses running their way to the next town, some checked in to the hostel.

"A veces," you explain. "If it feels right, I think I will."

"Yeah?" He settles on the bed of your wagon. The dresses were packaged and kept in locked chests, kept away from the bed of the wagon where your blanket was. Most of the foreigners have left, but you. He doesn’t have to guess to know that it was his fault. “You off to Rio’s hostel?”

“‘fraid I’m out of town,” you smiled at him. “She ain’t got any rooms. Next city over might.”

“Stay with me,” he says. “The night. Bit too late to get robbed on the road with all them pretty dresses you make. Wouldn’t be right to be sheriff and let a young thing out there without company. Some'a them outlaws take wives that way, y'know.”

“Oh, Sheriff O’Hara, ain’t no one care about widows on the road,” your hand finds your chest. It’s said with a laugh, as though someone, somewhere, made you feel less than. It wasn’t going to be Miguel.

"Ain't a widow if you're carried off." He reclines, watching the figures of couples dancing to whatever the hell Hobie was playing on his guitar. His eyes track over Hobie’s gloved fingers that prance across the strings, waiting for you to walk back on that stupid comment. You do, snapping out a fan in the waist of your heavy dress to fan yourself.

“You really sure? I don’t mean to be a burden. I’m sure you got better to do than take care of company.”

“You took care of my girl. Least I could do. Long as you go to church in the morning.”

“Oh, now he’s askin’ me to church. When’s the wedding, Sherriff?”

“Miguel. Soon as you want it,” he returns, half a smile pulling at a normally closed-off face. Miguel turns to set his Gabi down on your blanket, throwing you a look for permission. You nod, watching her roll on the wool thing, setting her hands under her cheek until she gets into a position that isn’t as bad as laying on her back. He tucks her hair back over the shell of her ear, exhaling a breath. Somewhere between his ex-wife’s flight from the town and today, she began to look more and more like him. He’s thankful for that. He doesn’t need more memories of her. Only needed to get through each day, and make the next better than the one before.

“She’s tuckered out,” you lean down, just by his face. “All that escapin’ papa work.”

“Si,” Miguel hums as he massages his sore shoulder. “Tell me about it. I’m getting too old for this.”

He lifts his head from his daughter’s tiny body, reminded of all the times someone told him to get married. If not the women chasing him around his jail at all hours of the day, then the women at church who, at the moment, were gossiping away. He could hear the prattle already: sheriff likes rich girls. The type to have a golden locket and French silk. The luxury of hopping from town to town like some no-good woman. He’d wager, your husband ain’t had the money to take care of you but for these light luxuries. Traveling town to town wasn't no small feat.

Tch. He’d deal with it tomorrow when he took you to church. Scandalous as that was.

“Fancy a dance?” he offered up his hand.

You remove your gloves, skin is soft and supple against his, only marred by the pricks of a needle. Your gloved fingers grazed his scarred palm, tracing the long strike that marred his open palm. There’s a thought there, just behind the reach of your playful eyes. He couldn’t quite reach it.

“I’d love to, Miguel.”

Something tells him he has time to.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miggy x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara drabble #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman 2099 x reader

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cielcreations · 2 months

Text

Spectrum's Doll (VSAU Story)

Based off/Inspiration from the amazing @rhapsoddity and their Vigilante Sheriff AU as well as their Head Empty Sheriff AU! Their art and story is just *chef's kiss* Definitely check them and their stuff out, it's amazing and lovely and I just can't get over it.

Also, implied hermit/empireshipping in this story. Nothing too drastic, just characters mentioning how they were exes or how they like each other, but still, it's there.

Also, also, TRIGGER WARNING: Hypnosis/Mind Control. That's kinda the whole point of this story. Cool? Cool.

When Stratos asked Sheriff for help in finding Sausage, he didn't think he would have to make a trade, intentionally or not.

Sheriff tied the llama hybrid up, the man struggling the whole time.

"Are your informants really reliable? It just seems like no one is here." Stratos asked, "Well, besides Spectrum's minions."

"Yes, I'm sure my information is correct, my informants wouldn't give me false info or lie." Sheriff said. They may be pigeons, but they see everything. He thought. He put the llama hybrid against the wall, who continued to struggle.

"You won't get away with this." The man hissed.

"Hey, that's my line!" Sheriff teased, taking out a deputy's badge sticker and sticking it on his head, "Boop!"

Stratos rolled his eyes before he and Sheriff moved to the next room of the warehouse. It was dark, making the two already on edge. Suddenly, a single light flipped on, revealing Sausage.

"Sausage!" Stratos ran over.

"Wait, Stratos, be careful, I don't like this! It could be a trick!" Sheriff exclaimed, taking out another lasso.

"Oh, don't be uptight, it's Sausage, he wouldn't hurt-" Stratos stopped in his tracks as the brunette lifted his hand, a large vine nearly stabbing him but only brushing past his cheek, "-me..."

"What the-?!" Sheriff watched as Sausage began to fight Stratos, the hero dodging and yelling at the other to stop. He took out his grabbling hook, spinning it in his hand, "That's Sanctuary's power! How could Spectrum use it? Unless Sausage is- oh god, that would make sense, but then why-"

"Too many questions~" Someone whispered in his ear, hugging his arm and wrapping their arm around his shoulder, "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours~ Just sink deeper and listen to me~"

Sheriff blinked as the colors in the room began to blur. He groaned and pulled away from the person quickly. His vision was slightly clouded by a mix of colors, but he fought against it, seeing the colorful villain. He had teal hair with heterochromia eyes, one teal and one orange. He wore a simple black bodysuit with a chest window, black jeans, and a colorful jacket, his black mask covering his face.

"Woah man, take me to dinner first!" Sheriff laughed, trying to ground himself.

"Gladly!" The villain, Spectrum, smiled, "But I don't think this location is very fitting!"

The colors moved and Sheriff saw tables and chairs appear around them. He groaned, holding his head and focusing on Spectrum. If he did that, he could see the warehouse, he could hear Stratos's yelling and Sausage using his power. He needed to focus.

"I-I'm flattered, but one shouldn't mix work with play-!" He groaned.

Spectrum stepped forward, "Awwww, come on handsome, a little break wouldn't-" He gasped, stepping back to dodge one of Sheriff's punches, the dirty blonde dropping his lasso and grappling hook, "Oh, so you like it rough, huh?"

"Gotta keep you on your toes, don't I?" Sheriff chuckled, trying to punch him again.

Spectrum dodged. Sheriff couldn't tell if he was moving slower or if Spectrum was just that fast, but he kept trying to hit him. He focused on fighting Spectrum, the villain seeming to get more bored by the minute.

"You know, I'm surprised and impressed you managed to endure this for so long!" Spectrum cooed, stepping out of the way.

Sheriff panted, smirking, kind of proud of himself, "Yeah, well, I know villains like you prefer a show and I don't mind an audience!"

Spectrum again dodged, managing to get behind Sheriff, "That's cute, but we should really wrap this up." He kicked the dirty blonde in the back, Sheriff stumbling and falling to his knees, "I don't do this for everyone, but you're quite a special case!"

Spectrum moved in front of Sheriff, cupping his cheeks, "Now, do me a favor and scream."

Sheriff gasped as he was blinded by colors, a voice in his head telling him to give in, to let go, to relax, to let Spectrum in. He tried to resist it, he tried to think of things to ground himself. Norman, Flick, he two cats. Grian, his awesome brother when he's not being annoying. Sausage, Sausage still needs help! And Stratos needs him and-

"Stop thinking. You don't need to. Let me do all the work." Spectrum's voice rang in his head.

Tears formed in Sheriff's eyes as they fluttered. He tried to fight back, but the voices telling him to give in overtook him. He closed his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks.

Spectrum groaned, holding his head as he looked down at the dirty blonde, Damn, why did I have to use so much power on him?! He thought. He stared down at the other and smiled, cooing as he wiped the tears away. Sheriff's blue eyes were glowing purple, a blank look on his face.

"Nothing but a cute little doll." He giggled before looking at Sausage and Stratos.

Spectrum smirked, picking Sheriff up bridal style before slipping out of the room. He blinked and laughed, seeing the llama hybrid still struggling in the ropes.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Your arm candy is stronger than he looks!" The brunette hissed.

"Oh, I know, trust me, Owen." Scott walked over, using a knife to cut him loose, "Come on, I got what I want. The hypnosis on Sausage will wear off the farther I get away."

Owen looked at Sheriff in his arms, "Oh my god, you must've used a lot of power. There are no thoughts behind those eyes!"

"That's the point!" Spectrum chuckled, "He was really good at resisting, even tried to put up a fight. But when I finally got him to stop thinking, he finally was mine!"

The two continued chatting, slipping into the night, disappearing with Sheriff.

***

"Home sweet home, my doll!" Spectrum giggled as he placed the dirty blonde on his bed, Owen rolling his eyes.

"I'm stealing your bathroom for an hour." He grabbed his civilian clothes, walking to the door.

"That's fine! I'll be here!" Spectrum giggled as the brunette closed the door. He smiled, removing his mask and jacket, placing them on a chair.

"Yo, Scott, I heard Owen." His bedroom door open as his sibling came in, "How did- oh, you got him."

"Xornoth, this is Sheriff!" Scott exclaimed, making Sheriff turn to face his sibling, "Sheriff, say hi!"

Sheriff lifted his hand and waved a bit.

Xornoth rolled their eyes, "Whatever. Just keep an eye on him."

"I will! He's going to just be either arm candy or a doll!"

"Yeah, I get that, but you also let your toys wander, sometimes. Just keep him away from my stuff."

"I will, geeeeez!"

"You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I-"

"Scott." Xornoth looked at him, raising an eyebrow, "Are you okay? Injured? Broken?"

Scott chuckled, "I'm fine, Xornoth. Head hurts a bit from using too much of my power, but I'm fine."

"Kay. Just making sure." Xornoth waved, "Alright, I'm going back to terrorizing 10 year olds."

"Have fun!" Scott called as they shut the door and left.

Scott then changed into some pajamas before facing Sheriff, who was still staring at where Xornoth once was. He chuckled, tilting his head to face him. He removed the dirty blonde's hat, vest, and scarf, placing them on a chair before opening his closet.

"What to put you in...?" He hummed, "Hmmm... I mean, I could leave you in boxers, what do you think?" He chuckled, laughing at his own joke.

"Mmmn-"

Scott turned and saw Sheriff's face was twisted.

"H-H-Huuuh-"

"Shhhhhhh~" Scott cooed, quickly closing the distance between them, holding the other's cheeks, "No thinking for you~ Just sit there looking pretty~"

Sheriff slipped easily, his face relaxing as he once again fell under Scott's control. Damn, even now, he's still trying to fight. I have to watch what I say and order of him if me asking what he thinks can bring him back. Scott turned back to the closet, deciding a clean white shirt was all Sheriff needed.

He unbuttoned the dirty blonde's shirt and widened his eyes. Winged... surgery scars...? He looked at Sheriff's back, eyes getting bigger, Small canary wings...?! Scott was in shock before he gently removed Sheriff's mask.

"Holy- Is that-?!" Scott cupped the dirty blonde's cheeks before smiling brightly, "Oh, my god! Jimmy Solidarity Gaming is Sheriff, aye?! That's so cool! No wonder I like you so much!" He then put the new white shirt on the dirty blonde, unbuttoning and removing his jeans, "We sure live in a small world, huh? That's crazy! I can't believe you became a vigilante! And a confident flirter too! I guess that's my doing, you're welcome everyone! I mean, I am sorry I have to take this handsome hunk off the streets, but he's miiiiiiine~!" Scott giggled.

Owen walked out, sighing, "Alright, I'm done.

"Thank you so much for your hard work, Own! You're dismissed, minion!" Scott teased, playfully clapping his hands together, "That will be all!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going!" Owen laughed, waving as he left, "See ya tomorrow!"

"See ya!" Scott chuckled.

He smiled, looking at Solidarity's face, still blank. He gently laid the other down laying beside him.

"Cuddle me."

The dirty blonde did.

Scott smiled, "So handsome, doll. And all mine. Go ahead and sleep."

Solidarity's eyes fluttered closed and Scott smiled. He turned off the lights and fell asleep himself.

***

Stratos paced, biting his bottom lip, occasionally biting his nail anxiously, his whole body stiff.

"Stratos, please calm down..." Sanctuary tried.

"I-I just can't, I'm sorry!" Stratos groaned, "I-I mean, Sheriff helped me find you and now Spectrum has him! He's been missing for three weeks and-"

"Excuse me!" The two turned as two heroes came towards them, the avian placing down the brunette, "Stratos, Sanctuary, pleasure to see ya!"

"Hey, Hotguy, Cuteguy." Stratos smiled.

Sanctuary waved a bit, "Thanks again for the help, Hotguy!"

"Of course. Actually, speaking of help, um... Cuteguy?"

The dirty blonde seemed hesitant, nervous even, anxious? "...Um, well... I was wondering, do you guys happen to know someone in your civilian forms? His name is Jimmy or he sometimes goes by Solidarity?"

"Yeah, we do! Why?"

"He's missing."

"WHAT?!" The two yelled.

"Wait, wait, wait, how do you know this?!"

"Well, Solidarity is m-"

"What he means to say-" Hotguy interrupted, "-is that Cuteguy and Solidarity are really close in civilian form!"

"Uh, yeah, right!" Cuteguy exclaimed, "Anyways, I went to check on him two weeks ago cause he wasn't answering me and we had plans, but he wasn't there. I tried calling, texting, calling his and my friends, no one knew. I looked everywhere and his cats..." He sighed, "His cats kept meowing and whining at me. I fed and gave them water and they acted like they hadn't been fed in days. Which is just not Solidarity! He would never just disappear on me! And he loves those cats more than anything, he would put them over everything else in an instant! There's no way he would just abandon them!"

Sanctuary nodded, standing up, "Listen, we'll help you find Solidarity, but can you guys help us find Sheriff?"

"Sheriff? The vigilante?" Hotguy asked, "Isn't he, like, your archenemy, Stratos?"

Stratos looked away, "I owe him. He awas the one who helped me find Sanctuary, but... Spectrum took him while I got Sanctuary back. He's been missing for three weeks."

Cuteguy flapped his wings, beginning to fly, "Okay, so Solidarity and Sheriff, right? I'll do a sweep of the city again, just to make sure neither of them are hiding in plain sight and we just overlooked them."

"I'll come with." Stratos flew to stand (float?) beside him.

"Hotguy and I will ask if anyone has seen them and for details. We'll meet up in a couple hours."

The four split up and began searching.

As the sun began to set and the moon rose, the sky darkened. Stars shined in the night sky as the four met up once more, sharing what little information they had. No one has seen either of the men, and no one had any idea where they could possible be.

"Uggggh!" Cuteguy groaned, "Dammit!"

"Woah, calm down Cute-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Hotguy!" The dirty blonde hissed, "Ti- Jimmy is missing and no one has seen him, he just poofed out of existence and I can't do anything about it."

"Actually, I know where he is."

The four turned and immediately became on edge.

"Hephaestus!" Stratos glared, "What're you doing here?!"

"Not here to fight!" The redhead exclaimed, "Temporary truce?"

"Yeah right-"

"I know where Sheriff and possible Solidarity is being held."

The four widened their eyes and looked at each other, before back at the redhead.

"And why should we trust you?!" Sanctuary exclaimed.

"Spectrum kidnapped you as part of his big plan, knowing Stratos would come for you. And Sheriff being Sheriff helped Stratos saved you, but Spectrum now has him. Right?"

"How do you know all this-"

"Doesn't matter, he took Sheriff and he also has Solidarity, but I don't exactly know where he's keeping him since I've only seen Spectrum lugging Sheriff around."

"If you know this, why ask us to help you?" Hotguy questioned.

Hephaestus looked away, "Well... truth is, me and Sheriff have some... history. We know each other in our civilian forms but our relationship is... complicated." He looked at them again, "But that doesn't matter. Spectrum has him deep under hypnosis and I won't be able to bring him back alone. Even if I could, I doubt he'd listen to me. I need your help to bring him back. And I can help you find Solidarity."

Cuteguy bit his bottom lip. He summoned an axe and pointed it at the other, "If you're lying, I will actually kill you."

"Noted. Now, come on, this way."

Hephaestus led the way, the four heroes following him, albeit from a bit of a distance. They arrived at a warehouse, the five standing on the roof and looking through the roof windows. The lights showed Spectrum, his orange clad sidekick, and a dirty blonde sitting on a box.

"Who-"

Hephaestus broke the window with his giant robot hands and fell through, glaring, "Spectrum, give Sheriff back."

"Hephaestus..." Spectrum glared, "I should have know you would find me eventually, you've always been obsessed with Sheriff."

"I'M OBSESSED?!" The redhead growled, pointing at the other, his giant robot hand doing the same, "You made a whole plan to kidnap a hero, just in case Sheriff would show up as support, and then kidnapped him instead so you can have some fake boyfriend!"

"Oh, he's not fake, he's my real boytoy!" He then looked at Sheriff, smirking, "Right, dollface?"

Sheriff merely nodded, blank face.

"Son of a-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Stratos yelled as the heroes stoof beside Hephaestus, "That's Sheriff?!"

The dirty blonde's hair was brushed back, a little diamond clip holding back his bangs. He wore a simple sleeveless black bodysuit with black arm bands, black jeans, purple boots, and a purple belt.

Hotguy drew his bow, Cuteguy summoning a weapin beside him, "You and your sidekick surrender now, Spectrum. It's five against two, you're outnumbered."

"You're right, we are outnumbered, but you're mistaken. It's five against three." Spectrum smirked, "Handsome, take care of Hephaestus and Stratos for me."

Sheriff stood and unlatched a black lasso from his belt, spinning it.

"Sheriff, listen to me, you don't-"

The dirty blonde interrupted Sanctuary by wrapping the lasso around Stratos and throwing him into Hephaestus.

"Sheriff, stop-!" Cuteguy called before he noticed the colors start to move. He groaned, closing his eyes as he flew up, "Hotguy, be careful!"

Hotguy seemed unaffected by the colors, smirking, letting his vex wings out, "Sorry, colorful man, doesn't affect me."

"That's fine, I got three of you distracted." Spectrum smirked, "Orange, take care of Sanctuary."

"You got it!" The llama hybrid snickered.

Spectrum took out a knife, Hotguy trying to shoot at him, trying to disorientate him. Spectrum easily dodged it and got close, trying to slash at the other. Cuteguy kicked Spectrum back, the colorful villain looking at the avian and trying to manipulate him. Cuteguy groaned and held his head, closing his eyes once more. It was a dance of Hotguy and Spectrum fighting with one another, Cuteguy trying to step in only to close his eyes to not get effected by the hypnosis. Orange and Sanctuary got in a heated fist fight, Orange also using a knife to cut the vines Sanctuary summoned.

Meanwhile, Sheriff was using his own weapons, trying to stop Stratos and Hephaestus, mainly trying to lasso one of them and then throwing them into the other. Hephaestus stayed back, knowing how dangerous his weapons could be and mainly acting as support as Stratos tried to grab Sheriff or dodged the dirty blonde's attacks. Stratos flew forward and pinned him down on the ground, the brunette staring into Sheriff's eyes.

"Sheriff, come on! Don't let Spectrum take over you! You're stronger than this! Come on, get out of your head!" Stratos yelled at him.

Sheriff blinked, the glow in his eyes flicking.

"Sheriff?!" Hephaestus called, kneeling beside Stratos, "Come on, Sheriff! You're an idiot, but you're not weak! Come on!"

Sheriff groaned, eyes twitching as the glowing dimmed more, "N-Nnnngh-!"

Spectrum looked over and growled. He kicked Hotguy in the stomach, the hero groaning. He then threw him towards Cuteguy, both yelping as Spectrum ran over to the other two. He manipulated the colors, Stratos and Hephaestus groaning. Spectrum pulled Sheriff away from the two, the dirty blonde groaning.

"Nnngh, w-wha-"

"Shhhhhh~" Spectrum cooed, "Shhhh, shhhh, no thinking for you, dollface~ Calm down, slip deep again~"

Sheriff panted as he tried to fight a bit, but he easily gave in, face blank once more as he once again turned numb.

"You-!" Hephaestus growled, his eyes narrowing.

"He wants to stay with me, Hephaestus. Right, Sheriff?" Spectrum stood up, holding Sheriff's hand and standing him up.

Sheriff nodded.

"See? He wants me, not you."

"That's it!" Hephaestus held one of his arms up, pressing a couple buttons, "Stratos, cover your ears."

"Huh-"

Hephaestus pressed a button and, suddenly, a loud alarm began to blare. Everyone but Hephaestus and Sheriff covered their ears. Sanctuary, however, lifted some vines up and threw Orange against the wall. Spectrum yelled, glaring at the hero. He glared and looked at Sheriff. He pulled the dirty blonde towards him whispering in his ear. Sheriff's eyes glowed a bright purple as he fell to his knees, Spectrum running towards the brunette.

Hotguy groaned and drew his bow, ready to pin Spectrum to the wall. However, before he could let go, Sheriff used his lasso to take his bow.

Hephaestus stopped the blaring, "Sheriff-"

Spectrum helped his friend up, smirking, "Good boy, Sheriff! I'll be back for you later! Do whatever you need to do, kill them if you need to."

Sheriff stood up, protecting Spectrum and Orange. He panted, eyes glowing a bright purple, twitching as he gripped his lasso tightly.

"Sorry Sheriff, not dealing with this!" Sanctuary wrapped a vine around his leg and threw him against a wall.

The man cried out in pain, eyes closing as he fell unconscious. Stratos flew over and picked the dirty blonde up.

"Great, we got Sheriff-" Cuteguy looked at Hephaestus, "-now where's T- Jimmy?"

Hephaestus went to say something but they heard police sirens. He cursed, "Fuck, I'll go after Spectrum and Orange and get him, but I gotta go!"

"WHAT?!" Cuteguy's wings flared up as the other climbed out the roof windows, "YOU'RE LEAVING?!"

"Listen, we may have a temporary truce, but police and villains don't mix. I'll get Solidarity, you help Sheriff!" He then left.

"YOU LITTLE-" Cuteguy went to fly after him.

"Cuteguy!" Hotguy grabbed him, "He's right! He helped us find Sheriff, but the police won't care. Besides, all four of us will get in trouble if it's found out we were working with a villain."

Cuteguy's wings slowed down as he landed, "....Right. I'll stay back, explain what happened to the police, you all help Sheriff."

"I'll help you." Sanctuary stood beside Cuteguy.

Stratos picked Hotguy up, "Alright, we're heading to headquarters. See ya both later."

Stratos flew to headquarters, the two going inside and heading to the medbay. They laid Sheriff down on the bed, a staff member healing his back. Hotguy knelt beside him, holding his head in his hands. His eyes began to glow a light blue, his vex wings extending as he tried to use his magic to break Sheriff out of it. He groaned, focusing as much as he could. Suddenly, he pulled back, groaning as he held his hands.

"Hotguy?"

"I-I can't break him out of it, it's not that easy. Every time I try, I just feel Spectrum's power trying to overtake mine."

Suddenly, Sheriff's eyes shot open. He screamed and went to punch Hotguy, Stratos catching him and pinning him down. Sheriff struggled, glaring, kicking and screaming.

"C-Calm down, calm down! F-Fuck, what is going on?!"

Hotguy widened his eyes, "Spectrum's last order was to kill us..."

Stratos widened his eyes, cursing, "Sorry Sheriff." He headbutted the other, Sheriff falling unconscious again.

Hotguy picked Sheriff up, "This is going to take a lot more focus, I need to go to another room."

"What?! But, Hotguy, what if-"

"I'll be fine, I just need peace and quiet and no distractions." Hotguy reassured, going into a different room he knew had no cameras.

He locked the door behind him before he laid Sheriff on the couch, kneeling beside him. He took a deep breath, taking off his glasses. He held the other's face, closing his eyes. Light blueish-grey marks appeared around his hands and eyes, his vex wings extending slightly. His eyes glowed a bright blue as he completely focused on the dirty blonde's mind. I should be able to reach in, weave some memories together and bring him back up. Hotguy thought.

He was inside Sheriff's mind, tugging and pulling memories of the vigilante messing with Stratos, the vigilante saving the day and catching the bad guys, the vigilante... talking to some pigeons? Oh, and there he was, helping Stratos find Sausage and then there he was, talking with Spectrum and fighting his control. Finding those seemed to break Spectrum's hold a bit, as he heard the dirty blonde groan. He ignored it, focusing more. He reached deeper into Sheriff's mind, pulling more memories up, these ones more specific.

Sheriff seeing a little girl crying. The girl was lost, she couldn't find her mom or dad. So, Sheriff picked her up, calmed her down, even bought her some ice cream, before helping her retrace her steps. The girl's mom and dad were extremely grateful, thanking the man profusely. He just smiled and reassured them it was no trouble.

Sheriff almost getting caught by Stratos after helping catch a bank robber. The brunette had grabbed Sheriff's wrist, attempting to get the dirty blonde to put them behind his back. Sheriff merely spun them around, telling Stratos he loved to dance and to just ask next time. That flustered the hero and he let go, allowing Sheriff to run and playfully wink.

Sheriff arriving home. In a... familiar home. Sheriff taking off his mask, hat, and scarf, setting them down on a familiar table... Sheriff walking down a familiar hallways, two familiar cats running over and greeting him. He picked the cats up, went into a familiar bedroom, and took out his phone. He sat on the familiar bed, turned on the camera, made it face him and-

JIMMY?! Hotguy gasped as he stared at the memory playing out, O-Oh my god, no wonder Sheriff and Solidarity went missing around the same time, they're the same person! Wait, fuck, Hephaestus says he knows who Sheriff is, meaning he knows that- Oh god, no wonder he ran! He wasn't going to reveal who Sheriff was! Oh god, what am I suppose to tell Cuteguy?! 'Hey, your missing brother? Turns out, he's a vigilante! In fact, he's Sheriff! So we found both, hurray!' Oh god, if Grian ever found out, he would kill Jim for doing something so dangerous! Hotguy groaned, shaking his head, Focus. Focus, it's okay. Just... focus.

***

Sheriff's eyes fluttered open, his head pounding, body aching. He groaned, looking around the room. He saw he was in some sort of office and-

Dollface~

He gasped, sitting up straight, looking around.

"Hey, you're-"

Sheriff stood and out his fists up, glaring.

"H-HEY! I come in peace!"

"Wh-What the?! Hotguy?! Where am I?! Where's Sp-" Sheriff stopped himself and shook his head, "Where's the villain?!"

Hotguy smiled kindly, sitting down and patting the seat beside him, "He's not here. It's just you and me. Sit."

"...Am I being arrested?"

"No, not at all. Just sit."

Sheriff hesitated, but did so.

"Listen, so..." Hotguy sighed, "Spectrum's grip on you was really, really, really strong."

"Yeah, I know." Sheriff hugged himself a bit, "I... I would try to fight it, but he would just... I don't know. I don't remember anything. I just remember his voice..."

Hotguy nodded, "Yeah, I know, I could tell. See, because Spectrum's grip on you was so tight, it wasn't as simple as me just challenging the power. I tried that, but his last order was to kill us, so when it didn't work, you woke up and tried to kill us."

"'Us?'"

"Cuteguy, Stratos, Sanctuary, Hephaestus, and I all found you, but Stratos and I took you back here." He explained, "Anyways, when I realized that didn't work, I had to go deeper into your head, root around, and pull you out. And, upon doing that, I... I saw your memories. Memories of you... without the mask."

Sheriff widened his eyes and stood up, stepping back, "Y-You-?!"

"Listen, it was the only other thing I could do and I don't feel good knowing, especially under these circumstances!" Hotguy stood up as well, "I don't want to expose your identity to more people, Solidarity, it's why I took you to a private room."

"Wait, you know me?" Sheriff asked, "Like, by name?"

"Yeah, um, soooooooo-" Hotguy removed his glasses, "I may or may not live with your brother...?"

The dirty blonde widened his eyes, "...HOLY SHIT!" He sat back down with the hero, "Scar? How could I not tell?!"

"Well, to be fair, we have tech in our masks and glasses that the hero industry made. It helps conceal our identities more. So, when I put my glasses on-" He put them back on, "-the tech makes it so your brain can't accurately pinpoint features. It confuses your brain, therein making it hard for people to recognize us!"

"Yeah, that makes sense, you look completely different with those on. Weird." He leaned back into the couch before widening his eyes, "Oh my god, how long was I gone?"

"Three weeks."

"OH MY GOD-" He quickly quieted down, looking at the brunette, "Please tell me Norman and Flick are okay?!"

"Grian and I took them in when looking for you." Scar reassured, "Cuteguy and I went looking for you, er, you as in Jimmy, and Stratos and Sanctuary were looking for Sheriff."

"Oh thank goodness." The dirty blonde sighed in relief before he seemed to realize something else, "Oh god, Grian and Pearl..."

"Yeeeeeeeah, they're freaking out... Don't worry, I didn't tell them!"

"Great! Now I gotta make up how I escaped Spectrum and make it look believable..." He sighed, "So, Cuteguy and Hotguy found Sheriff, but Grian and Scar are still looking for Solidarity, right?"

"Yeah. Listen, I could sneak you out and-"

"Nah, I got this. At least Pearl is safe from all this!"

Scar smiled awkwardly, "Hehe, yeah..."

***

The colorful villain growled, tapping his foot angrily.

"Sorry man, I was care-"

"Don't apologize, Owen, Sanctuary was playing dirty."

"Thanks for saving me, Scott. Even if it meant loosing your doll."

"You're my best friend, Owen. I can capture Sheriff again. I can't replace you."

The brunette smiled up at the other, "Softie."

"Alright, next time I'll leave you." The other teased.

Owen laughed, humming, "...You know his secret identity, right? Are you going to use that to your advantage?"

Spectrum chuckled darkly, "Oh Owen..." He smirked, eyes glowing as he manipulated the colors in front of them, "Scott is going to reconnect with an old friend and see how he's doing. Whatever happens after, I can't say."

Owen just laughed.

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sweetie-peaches · 3 months

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Foolbo cowboy au let’s go

• Sunny and tubbo live on the roads, Tubbo is a skilled bounty hunter, as well as a skilled mechanic. They’ll bounce from town to town, Tubbo will take bounties and repair commissions, and Sunny will charm her way into the townspeople emptying their pockets

• They can’t stay in one place for long however,Tubbo has quite a few bounties on his head himself, considered an outlaw from most law enforcement

• tubbo stole his horse when he was younger, and the mare has served him well since, brown with patches of white all over her

• he stole Sunny’s horse after bartering for hours, deciding that the price he got the man down to was frankly still too high, so he snuck in and stole it, simple.

• her horse is a young black stallion, who Sunny has named “smalltail” put all kinds of clips and beads in his mane.

• small tail has beef Tubbo, Tubbo has beef with small tail, yes he knows it’s a horse. So what?

• foolish is a sheriff attempting to hunt Tubbo down with his kid leo, eventually they find him, and Sunny.

• and tubbo sees him

• he wakes up disarmed and tied to a dead tree, Leo beside him, still unconscious, Sunny peaking out from her pa’s leg as she stares at foolish. Tubbos stare is frankly a lot more concerning, and terrifying. Foolish did not think someone so short could be so intimidating but he sure pulls it off

• eventually for some reason, maybe some outlaws neither foolish or Tubbo are fond of show up. Forcing foolish, tubbo, Leo, and Sunny to flee from their camp. Ending with them fully lost

• they have to make their way back to the nearest town. Foolish and tubbo only claiming this alliance is so they don’t both die out alone

• though their eyes linger on each other at night, lightened by the fire. And when Leo and Sunny are put to bed maybe they find themselves just a little bit closer then before.

• foolish never hated Tubbo, infact he just wanted to do his job and get paid. And he grows so so much fonder when after a long day of riding, Tubbo falls asleep with his head on his shoulder, making foolish his pillow

• and even fonder when he gently picks him up (he’s learned Tubbo is an extremely light sleeper, and bites when awoken too soon) and caries him to his bed roll

• and he can’t even call it fondness anymore, he has to call it love when on a night after Sunny and Leo are in bed. Drunken on moonshine and the bright stars Tubbo confesses his fears, that he isn’t enough for Sunny, that he serves no purpose, that he’ll never be important

• and foolish, equally drunk, listens to him babble, and simply holds him. Rocking him back and forth

• and tubbo looks at him. And his watery blue green eyes are red and teary but oh so fucking pretty. And he’s leaning in to kiss him, and he tastes the salt of tears on his lips, and tubbo and he’s had all the best whiskeys and sugary sweets. But he’s never tasted anything better before

• they fall asleep in each others arms, for the first time in a long time Tubbo sleeps comfortably, and safely

• and he wakes up with a killer headache, and looks and foolish and remembers the kiss.

• and he decides that maybe this detour wasn’t so bad, and maybe the sheriff could be allowed in his life

• (and then they start their own township named fobo and Sunny and Leo argue but eventually become sisters. And tubbo and foolish are happy and everyone’s happy and they all go riding off into the sunset the end)

#peaches posts #qsmp qosts #qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmpblr #tubbo #qsmp shipping #qsmp foolish #foolbo #qsmp fanfiction

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teacasket · 3 months

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dead or alive

genre: angst au: cowboy au, western au warnings: guns, one instance of an animal being hurt, mentions of drinking and gambling, swearing, violence word count: 0.7k pairing: gn!reader x lee felix a/n: happy valentine’s day?

“You sure this is the right place?” Felix asks as he lands gently onto the ground. His horse whinnies, and he absentmindedly shushes it as he surveys the dilapidated house and the rotting wooden fence around it. “Looks empty.”

“You think Killer Bill would hide his fortune in a saloon or something?” you say as you slide off your own horse. “You’re dumber than I thought.”

He shrugs, jostling the rifle slung across his shoulder. “He died as he lived—gambling and shooting. And you know damn well I’m smarter than you, Lucky.”

“Then how come I was the one who got his widow to give up the location?”

“Only ‘cause you put your shotgun to her head.”

Smiling, you stroke the stock of your gun. Pretty as it is, it’s even more deadly under your control. You might be known as Lucky to everyone in the West, but that nickname isn’t about your aim.

“C’mon,” you say. The abandoned house draws closer with each step you take. “Where’d she say it was again? Kitchen?”

He sighs and pushes you aside to enter the building. “Out the way. She said kitchen cellar. Your dumb hide’ll probably mistake the upstairs for the down.”

You want to snap something back at him, but no insults come to mind. He’s a shit drinker and a second-rate shot, but he knows those things better than anyone. Doesn’t matter. You follow him through the faded living room, through the chipped kitchen. Dust motes swirl in the air, and you resist the urge to sneeze. A tiny door, more gaps than planks, is nestled into a corner.

“Greedy,” you mumble as Felix swings it open and descends without a second thought. You press your shotgun to your cheek. Point the muzzle at his back. “Always knew you were.”

At the bottom of the stairs waits a group of men, their guns of choice aimed at Felix. Felix reaches for his own weapon, but the click of someone’s lever makes him pause.

“Sheriff,” you greet. “A thousand in gold coins, don’t you forget. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“You set me up,” Felix says. The despair in his voice might’ve hurt a little more if he hadn't called you an idiot earlier. “You already have the treasure, don't you?”

You shrug. “You walked into it. Gentlemen.”

The Sheriff flicks the brim of his hat up and aims his gun at you. “Now who said you could leave?”

“You said I wouldn’t be a part of it.”

“I lied. And you believed me. Boys.”

You catch a glimpse of Felix’s grinning face before you scramble out of the stairway and slam the tiny door behind you. Between the kitchen and the living room, you hear footsteps thundering, so from the safety of the wall, you fire a shot into the kitchen and pray it hits someone good. Then you continue running.

If they’re smart, they’ll position themselves at the windows and shoot you while you get on your horse. If they’re dumb, they’ll do the same.

You climb onto your horse sidesaddle just as you see the curtains fluttering. Opening a window just wastes time. You ought to help.

The two front windows are easily shattered with a bullet each. As glass explodes, you nudge your horse into a canter. A stray bullet flies through the front door and lands into a fence post. The Sheriff steps out onto the porch, cocks his shotgun, and aims at you once more. Another miss.

You fire back, hitting him squarely in the chest. He cries out, but no one goes to help him. The closest thing he gets is Felix stepping over his fallen body to chase you down.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Nothing personal, Felix. I just wanted the money,” you shout back.

You lift your gun again, and he flinches. But you’re not going for him. His horse whinnies as it buckles down in pain, collapsing into the sand. There, Felix can’t follow you now.

With full confidence, you swing one leg over and urge your own healthy horse into a gallop. Five shots for an escape, not a single reload needed, not a single scratch on your body. Not too bad.

The dust swirls around you, so you tug the bandana around your neck up to your nose and pull your hat lower.

There’s a reason why they call you Lucky.

a/n part two: if you want actual valentine’s day fics, check out the ones i've written in previous years candy hearts (hyunjin) // cavities, fillings, and feelings (in) // flowers for you (lee know) // stupid cupid (bang chan)

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cycat-carisi · 6 months

Text

Lonesome Superhero Part 2

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: After you give Gator a piece of your mind and something to think about when it comes to his father, you find out the hard way that you've said the wrong things to the wrong family. But are the consequences what Gator intended?

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show, this one is kinda dark and could be disturbing - reader is directly threatened, NOT a romance fic, the Tillmans are disturbed individuals...

Length: 700+

A/N: The part 2 no one asked for! (Part 1 here). This just sorta happened. After watching episode 3, we really got to see how fecked up Gator is thanks to his upbringing. I'd love for him to get a redemption arc of some kind and I guess that's the intention behind these (now AU) fics. I hope that you enjoy (:

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

A street lamp's pale, yellow glow casts a gloomy shadow over the small parking lot of the retirement home. It's past 11 p.m., and your evening shift has finally let out.

Descending the building's front steps, you fish your car keys from your purse and begin to weave your way through the remaining cars in the lot. You're rounding the box of a pickup truck when a dark figure appears in front of you.

"Evening, little lady." His voice rings deep and low.

Fear paralyzes you. You attempt a step backwards but immediately stumble into the smooth metal of the truck. Trapped.

As the figure shifts closer, the street lamp streaks color across a man. A cowboy hat and shearling coat take form in front of you.

Your breath becomes erratic, much like your heartbeat, as realization strikes; the man's status only elevates your fear.

"I heard that you were talking to my son," the voice of Roy Tillman continues. "Putting ideas in his empty little head that I don't have his best interests at heart."

He takes a step forward, and that's when you notice the dim light illuminating yet another figure. It's Gator, and he's grinning spitefully in your direction.

Everything in your body is telling you to run, but your brain knows that these men could easily catch and overpower you. There's nothing left to do but stand your ground.

"My son is my own flesh and blood." The sheriff explains simply, moving another step closer. "Helps me keep this town in order. The last thing we need," he draws even nearer, "is womenfolk like you disrupting the natural order of things." You curl your fingers into your palm, your nails painfully dent your skin. "And we can't have you going around humiliating law enforcement either, my dear."

With those last words, Roy Tillman levels his face in front of you. His cold, hard eyes bore deep into yours. A silver glint catches in your periphery—a hunter's knife unsheathed from the strap on his belt.

Your lungs betray you, and you unleash a frightened gasp.

Gator takes a tentative step forward.

"Women outta know their place in this world, little lady," whispers Roy, bringing the knife up into your field of view. "But sometimes it takes a bit of teaching for your type to truly understand." Roy twists the knife again, showcasing its serrated edge.

You feel tears stinging your eyes, and your stomach is ready to vomit.

In the background, a silent Gator's gaze flicks erratically back and forth between his father and you.

The blade tip then slowly moves towards your throat, the senior Tillman outwardly captivated by how your pupils dilate in pure terror.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rings out. "Dad!" Gator slides up beside his father. "Dad," he says again, voice lowered—hesitant; scared, almost. "I, uh, I think she gets it." Gator's hazel eyes once again dart between your fear-stricken face and the focused features of his father.

The older man's brow furrows, yet his eyes still deadbolt you in place. "Gator, we talked about this. Women do not undermine our authority. We are the law. She needs to learn."

You can practically feel the cold radiating off the knife blade as it encroaches to within mere millimeters of your throat.

"Wait!" bursts Gator once more.

Gator's actions finally cause Roy's head to turn. A look of sheer anger is cast down upon his son. Gator shrinks under its weight.

"I think she gets it now," he says meekly.

Roy scrutinizes Gator for several long moments, though finally, the knife retreats.

A relieved sob erupts from your chest, and Roy turns back to you, flashing you a hardened warning.

Gator, on the other hand, appears torn and confused, like a trapped animal desperate to escape yet too loyal to his captor to attempt breaking free.

In mere seconds, Roy retreats into the darkness as silently as he arrived, leaving Gator standing before you.

Gator has never been phased by how his father ran the county. Never once has he batted an eye when people needed a little reminder of who was in charge. But tonight? Gator had thought his father would simply talk him up and convince you that he was important. Gator never expected—or wanted—what just happened to happen. Instead, it seemed as though his father's only purpose was to once again eliminate any doubt about his own authority. The knife was a step too far. Maybe, just maybe, you had been right about his father all along...

A silent apology resides in Gator's features as he flashes you one last glance before swiftly disappearing from the parking lot in the same direction as his father.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

#gator tillman #my fanfic #fargo season 5 #fargo fx #joe keery #gator tillman x reader #fargo #lonesome superhero series

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rhapsoddity · 2 months

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Im in love with the head empty vigilante sheriff au, but I can’t help but ask would the sheriff ever like be saved from spectrums control? If so who would save him? :)

with how deep jimmy was under spectrums control, it takes like a full week for the control to slowly fade, only managing to slip out with many attempts with potions,, but the affects only last so long

fwhip pushes past his "oh i totally dont care about jimmy" bc jim being this deep genuinely freaks him out, to the point that when jimmy's finally recovered, fhwip begs him to quit. they may not be friends anymore but wholeass being kidnapped?? yeah he cant look past that he wants jimmy to be safe

#anon #ask #rhaps art #doodle #au of an au.... of an au??#idk whether he'd get rescued in the canon of the head empty au #but im not gpnna think too hard about it lmao #vigilante sheriff au #tw hypnosis

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streaminn · 10 months

Text

My brain is bored and my mind is thinking

Say, we all know that Wednesday is lowkey spoilt right? She always expected things to go her way, you can see it in the way she barges into Weems office or how lil care she has whenever she shoves orders at the sheriff's face

So imagine what happens when someone ghosts her

It'd strike her pride because well, Wednesday is the best and she knows this. There would be no reason for why someone wouldn't listen to her nor would there be a reason for someone to... Ignore her like this either

Now that we got that, lemme set the scene

They're adults, no supernatural, just a completely modern au

Enid is an accountant. It's boring, not at all what she expects from when she was younger but all she has to do is calculate money and it's monotonous enough that she can go through days absolutely no thoughts head empty

It's not the future she wants but it's the future she got

Yoko, her lovely coworker notices how not so firey her seatmate is and offers a new chat app because nothing is as fun as deciding to troll random people

Enid squints at the name. "are you seriously telling me to E date right now?"

"pshhhh, ofcourse not!" yoko says unconvincingly. "just get on and play around with some people, maybe talking to someone other than boss and me could liven you up :D"

Enid stares, wondering how tf did yoko do that before sighing and downloading the app. "if I get doxxed, you're helping me move to a new house."

Yoko waves a hand before twirling back to her cubicle. "thank me if you find a sugar daddy!"

Enid flushes. "you know I don't swing that way!"

Yoko laughs.

The blond grumbles before tapping at the recently downloaded app. It's literally like tinder and Enid knows that this is a dating app trying to hide as something else

So in payback, Enid starting basing her profile of yoko. She wasn't petty enough to snap a Pic of her best friend so she went to Google and kind of try harded in making her profile look like an emo girl's aesthetic board

Huh, maybe yoko has a point, this is pretty fun

Oh for the days where Enid could make things, maybe she should pick up crocheting again. Tempting, she'll do that when she gets home

As soon as she was done, Enid began randomly swiping right with absolutely no care at all.

Enid still places her name as enid because.. Why not. By the time she finished her bio, she got too lazy to create a new name so actual name it is!

It takes a bit because apparently no one in this app likes edgy girls who enjoy dark walks, cadaver dogs and wine so dark red it looks like blood. Enid only liked one thing in that list and she wonders how did she become friends with someone with such concerning interests.

Honestly, now that Enid is think about it, her profile kind of sounds like a serial killer's. If they were dumb and was way too open about their interest, so it was no wonder no one was swiping on her

But as she was about to put the phone down and have some faith in people's taste in women, a match was made

Okay, concerning

Time to have some fun.

Immediately, Enid knew this must be some satire account because really? Wednesday A? Very interesting because she too didn't have pictures of herself, instead it was pretty good shots of a Gothic looking house, a lion?? A graveyard and a typewriter

Clearly they were trying to be all Dracula up in this place.

In the bio, it simply said

> author

Enid nods, she can respect sticking to the bit. She lowkey expected a historian but vampires being authors felt fitting aswell

Well, no time like the present! Why not do some classic rp for the shits and giggles

So they start talking

Wednesday types like she doesn't know how to use simply words and well, Enid would've loved to reciprocate because damn the amount of immersion is impressive but after the fifth typo, Enid gave up

And oh, she's a woman

Enid kind of expected a dude to be trolling but when she went "hello good sir, what are you doing this fine day?"

She kind of chokes on her water when Wednesday replies with a "Its ma'am and the day is going quite horridly, the weather where I am at has the temper and I can not wait to experience it first hand."

Who in the nine hells says horridly??

But hey, Wednesday is rping a vampire, Enid can't be all pissy when she's good at it

So they text and they text for days. Maybe it's been a month and Wednesday is just as weird as always, no breaking of character at all and Enid can respect the dedication. Call it escapism but enid has fun acting like she totally would not grimace at the sight of a dead body when Wednesday talked in detail about her novel. From what she's sees, Wednesday sounds like she probably didn't have much friends due to her interests and Enid gets that, so there's no harm in indulging

Until one day, she gets invited out to hang with yoko for the weekend and since she was in such a hurry, she kind of left her phone in her house

Wednesday, old money and living in seclusion, Addams isn't taking that so well. Finally after decades, someone takes her being wholly herself and doesn't seem disgusted. Normally she didn't care, she joined this app simply because her parents insisted for some sort of social interaction outside of family

But enid was different, she didn't try to change the subject, instead she oohs and aaahs at any info Wednesday gives. It's.. Intoxicating when Enid points out how smart she must be to know these type of things. Actually! She wondered more about her family history and didn't sound at all surprised when Wednesday mentions their odd background.

"it's fitting," Enid types. "that you would come from such a strong family, I'm sure they're proud to have someone like you."

It makes a part of Wednesday soar so mayhaps she was going through something when Enid doesn't reply one day.

It goes like this

- Enid - Enid answer me, I know you never go about without your phone - Enid did someone kidnap you? I've gone through channels and none of them match your description - Have I done something wrong? Perhaps a slight that I did not know was a thing? -

"pugsley," Wednesday says, pushing open be door to his room. Her hand is tight on her phone before she slides it over with a tense jaw. "I need you to do find the location of this woman."

Pugsley peers at the screen, raising a brow at the rather nondescript pfp. In bold letters is the username: Enid

the brother agrees and just like that, Enid fate was sealed. The blond was absolutely unaware of what she just got herself into, far too busy spending time with yoko

#Au Thoughts #Wenclair #Or I wanted to type in more dark Wednesday #Wednesday addams #Enid Sinclair

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subbe93 · 4 months

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It Has Always Been You, Epilogue

A/N: So, here we are! Another fic has come to its end. And like with other fics, I feel sad because I have worked with this so long, so it feels a little empty when you are done, like: “I’m not going to work with this one anymore.” But I still feel proud that I got this fic done! It makes me happy to know that I have finished another fic, especially now that I’m also studying!

About the next one: I don't know when I will get the next fic out because... well, I have studies to do, but I haven't decided what I'm going to write next, so... xD Most of you have asked for a new Arranged Marriage fic, so probably the next one is it. But I have also been interested in the idea of some kind of Wild West AU where Shinichi spends his time helping sheriff/s to keep order in their town even though he isn’t sheriff himself (maybe he is too young to be one?). But one day he would meet a young bandit woman/girl - and you guessed right, she is Ran x) -, and they would get to know each other and fall in love! But like I said, I'm not sure which one I’m going to work on next (because I know some of you have waited for requests so long!), but we will see!

But yeah, I hope you have enjoyed this fic! I also want to thank all the likes, comments, and reblogs, they mean so much to me ❤ Thank you so much for being here and following this story even though you have waited chapters long time ❤ Thank you ❤

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Epilogue:

“I’m really sorry about everything, Julia.”

Ran observed how that American woman lifted her head and looked at Shinichi. Her eyes were red from crying, yet she tried to smile. Ran felt bad because even though Shinichi said otherwise, she still felt like she was the one who had made those tears, the one who had made that woman’s life miserable. It was her fault that Shinichi had broken up with that woman, who genuinely seemed to love Shinichi. Ran couldn’t even guess how it must feel when all this time Julia had believed in marrying that man who had now left her for another woman. Though Ran also knew that Shinichi didn’t feel too good about it either, but like he had said, love was never easy.

Ran would have loved to say something to that woman, make her feel even somehow better, but she also knew that there wasn’t anything that would make Julia feel better. The time would be the best healer.

And when she thought about it, maybe she wasn’t the right person to say anything.

“I am too”, Julia answered.

“Are you going to be okay?” Shinichi asked, looking worried. “I mean… I don’t feel excellent to let you go before we had talked about this and make sure we are fine.”

“It’s okay, Shinichi”, Julia said and Ran felt a little jealous when she saw how Julia raised her hands on Shinichi’s chest. “I’m fine and I understand and probably with time I also agree with this even though right now this feels very unfair. To… let go of someone you love. But…” Then she looked at Shinichi. “But I believe you know the feeling.”

“Very well”, Shinichi answered. “And more than that, I hate to be the one who makes you feel like that.”

“I know, Shinichi, I really do”, she answered gently. “But I need a little time to deal with this. But as I promised, we would talk about this more as soon as I am ready. Okay?”

“Yeah”, Shinichi answered. And then they hugged. And even though it felt cute and touching and Ran was happy that this breakup was friendly and not full of hate and jealousy, she couldn’t ignore that one feeling…

“Okay, Ran-chan”, Ran heard Yukiko say, making her take her eyes away from Shinichi and Julia. Yukiko was smiling brightly, which kind of made her feel relieved. To be honest, Shinichi’s parents had taken it pretty well when Shinichi and Ran had met them for breakfast and told them what had happened. Even though Ran had known Shinichi’s parents like forever and they were the nicest and kindest people Ran knew, she had been so scared to meet them again. In the end, she and Shinichi broke up because of her, and now Shinichi has broken up with his fiancee because of Ran. But they had been kind and welcoming, even though they had also been worried about Julia.

But that was only understandable. And Ran was too. But she was happy that Julia even had someone who would travel back to America with her and maybe be there for her too. Someone who would make sure that she would be okay.

Because Shinichi would stay in Japan - at least for now.

“Promise to take good care of our little Shin-chan?” Yukiko said and took her into a tight hug.

Ran let out a laugh and hugged back. That was so familiar because it wasn’t the first time that Yukiko had said that to her. “I will”, she promised. Sadly, she still caught Julia saying something, which went like this: “If you ever get tired of her, remember that I’m the next on the line, okay?” Shinichi laughed, but she couldn’t hear the answer, because Yukiko let go of her and smiled looking a little sad.

“And remember call from time to time”, she continued. “Because Shin-chan doesn’t…”

“Let him be, Yukiko”, Yusaku interrupted gently. “Shinichi would call when he feel like it.”

“But…”

“And the same goes if she gets tired of you”, Ran caught Julia saying, and instead of listening to Yukiko’s and Yusaku’s conversation, her centralization went to Julia and Shinichi. “You are always welcome back to me.”

And as an answer, Shinichi still smiled and said: “Well, I keep that in my mind.”

Ran turned to look at those two to see that they were done with huggings. And Yukiko just went to them while Julia moved aside. “Shin-chan, are you sure you’re going to be fine?” she asked and hugged Shinichi tightly.

“Mom, I’m an adult.”

“But you’re still my little boy…”

Hearing that groan as an answer made Ran smile, but she turned her eyes to Julia, who also looked at those two. Even though she felt a little uneasy and jealous after those little conversations that she had heard Julia and Shinichi to talk, part of her still felt bad and she still wanted to apologize about this. And maybe now that the parents were saying goodbyes to their son, she decided this would be her chance.

“Julia-san?”

Light blue eyes turned to look at her, and if she had looked at Shinichi softly, now her facial expression hardened. Ran felt bad being the reason for that cold behavior, but she hoped that one day she could forgive her. In the end, what she had learned about Julia, she seemed to be a nice person.

“I want to apologize for everything”, Ran said and bowed deeply. “I know it’s my fault that this happened and you need to go through all this…” Then she straightened and smiled. “But if there is something I can help with, don’t hesitate to ask.” And that’s all she could promise.

Julia just stared at her for a moment before she started to smile slowly, but it wasn’t a warm or friendly smile. “Well, all you can do now is take better care of him than last time.”

It was kind of a spike in her heart, but maybe she deserved that. “I will”, she promised.

“Good”, Julia said. “And if you don’t, don’t worry: I will take him back and ensure you won’t hurt him ever again.”

“It’s time to go”, Yusaku’s voice said, making Julia break eye contact and leave Ran there, looking after her. They said their last goodbyes, which Ran participated too, but somehow she couldn’t concentrate on it. Even though she knew that Julia had probably said those words just because she was angry with her - and she knew that if she would break up with Shinichi again, he would deserve a woman like Julia -, it left her chill. Like it was a threat.

Well, that it probably was, but it was a harmless one. Ran knew it. She also knew that the reason why she took it so personally was because she still felt guilty for this break-up and Julia hadn’t said that with a friendly tone. And there was also the truth that she could have handled her break up with Shinichi a little better five years ago.

“You shouldn’t take her words too seriously, you know.”

Ran looked at Shinichi who still looked after his parents and Julia. But it made something tightening in her chest. How much he had heard?

“What are you talking about?” Ran asked, trying to look like she had no idea what he was talking about. But Shinichi looked at her with that smile that he had when he had discovered something crucial for his deduction.

“That Julia would take me back if you got tired of me”, he said and turned. “She is just angry, but she would get over this”, he continued and walked to the windows. Ran followed with her eyes as he leaned on the railing in front of them and just looked outside all those planes.

He wasn’t wrong, but this probably would take some time for all of them, to get over and get okay with everything they had done and said. She was happy that this hadn’t been any kind of war, but it was still the truth Julia was heartbroken and both Shinichi and Ran felt bad for it. And it would take some time - even for her and Shinichi - to accept this and live with it. And probably the most crucial thing would be the talk with Julia when she would be ready. Because only after she makes peace and gets over this, Shinichi and Ran would be ready to leave this behind.

And maybe somewhere deep down Ran was a little bit scared. Would Julia come back one day and fight back into his heart? Would she try to do something to sabotage his relationship with Ran? Or maybe Shinichi would realise one day that he was really in love with Julia and not with Ran? One day he would say that he would like to break up and return to Julia, and… and…

But maybe those were worthless thoughts that didn’t matter. There was no point in thinking about those now. Only time will show.

And it had been five years, she thought. Five years and Ran knew that she was still deeply in love with him, and what Shinichi had said, she believed he felt the same. If that time hadn’t broken them apart, she didn’t believe that it would happen any time soon. Maybe being apart from each other and experiencing different kinds of relationships had only made them stronger, taught them, and made them see differently. Made them see that maybe they couldn’t live without each other.

Maybe this only showed that they would always get back to each other.

And if Shinichi had stayed the same, Ran knew that he wouldn’t made lightly his decisions. If he had been ready to marry Julia, he wouldn’t have broken up with her on a whim. He wouldn’t have stayed in Japan without being sure of his feelings for Ran. He wouldn’t have stayed if he wouldn’t have been sure that he would have wanted to start over with her.

So she walked to him, touching his back gently when getting beside him. Shinichi turned his head to look at her.

“Are you regretting this already?” she asked with a smile, and even though she said it as a joke, she needed to know that he was sure about this. In the end, he hadn’t had weeks or even days to think about this through. He didn’t have a home, no property, no… well, not anything else than the luggage he had brought from America and everything that was inside.

Shinichi started to smile and looked back outside from the window. “I don’t”, he answered. “Well, maybe a little bit, because I just stayed behind and didn’t let any of my friends know. And honestly, I’m a little bit worried about Julia.”

Ran turned her eyes out from the window.

“But staying with you feels the right thing to do.”

When Ran turned to look at him again, she saw how he straightened himself before turning to look at her, putting his hand around Ran and pulling her closer.

“But you don’t have anything with you”, Ran said. “And this all happened so fast.”

Shinichi smiled. “But I have you”, he said, making Ran blush. “And that’s all I need.”

“Smooth talker”, Ran said and looked away even though her cheeks were burning.

Shinichi laughed and she felt a kiss on her cheek before he made her turn and took her into his gentle embrace. She felt a kiss on her head.

“Whatever”, she heard him say. “But I have to admit: right here, right now, this is the first time in five years I feel like I’m home.”

She felt how he leaned his head against hers, and for some unexplained reason, she felt tears in her eyes. Ran leaned on him while his arms tightened around her, hugging her tightly. She let her head lean on his shoulder, closing her eyes and feeling that familiar warmth, letting those tears escape. Maybe she understood him now while being in this only place where she felt safe and good. Where she felt like a home. Like this was the only place where she belonged. For this - for him, she would have dropped everything else if it would mean that she could have been with him.

And she realised how much she had missed him all these years.

Yeah. This was the only place where she belonged.

“Welcome back home”, she said, trying to tighten her grip around him. She wouldn’t let him go ever again. Never.

~ The End ~

#ShinRan #It Has Always Been You #post-Canon #Kudo Shinichi #Mouri Ran #Shinichi/OC #Getting back together #Detective Conan #Fanfiction #Epilogue

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made-nondescript · 1 year

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imagining an au where jimmy has some sort of connection to the dead that allows him to like, see ghosts in a way but in my head it’s somewhat more vague and not-quite, but like as he learns more about the people of the deserted town through reading stuff and looking around like you said, slowly he’s able to see the ghosts of the past better and/or they feel comfortable enough to show themselves to him more and so it’s really a ghost town to him and he slowly forgets that it’s not actually a lively town and when other empires members come over it’s like really eerie and off and idk. is this anything

My immediately thought was that Pix would be soooo pissed if, out of everyone, JIMMY got the seeing-ghost-of-the-past ability and not him LOL

BESIDES... I am staring at this. Ough. My first thought here is that if they are ghost ghosts, that's granting him a kind of power/identity that he really, really craves. He's their link to the living world, like. You can't get more dependent than that on a guy. It's not quite "sheriff" but it's something and it makes him feel important and he likes that.

(Of course, they could reveal themselves to anyone at any time, technically. They just can't leave the town. And Jimmy's the only one there.)

I'm imagining in this scenario the Old Sheriff left his town for dead, tbh. Then Jimmy shows up and dons the sheriff hat himself and the ghosts are - well, none too happy really. Last sheriff didn't do them any good, that's for sure. But it's kind of exciting to have someone new, living around, so it's inevitable that they show themselves. Plus, uh. Jimmy's just seems kinda sad and lonely? Like he thinks the place is empty and he's still just hanging around? Roleplaying? In short they are charmed by his cringefail loserboy swag.

Ohh, and I like this so much. He's suddenly got this large-ish group of people he's essentially stuck with unless he wants to move, which forces him to not fall back on his go-to solution to most of his problems this season: burning bridges. He can't burn this bridge. I mean, he could, but then he has to sleep in the ashes, you know? It'd be kind of healthy for him to have something he couldn't run away from. I like that a lot.

I'm rotating this. Thank you for sharing!!

#nondescript ask #Anonymous #solidarity #empires smp

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scribbling-dragon · 2 years

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Had idea for that "Tango in empires" au

Jimmy says that Tango really /should/ be in a big jail for his crimes but hasn't been brought there yet because Jimmy likes him

Have any of the jail keepers there tried to take Tango?

drawing (unwanted) attention

Summary:

He watches the way he stiffens, his tail stopping the absent flicking and ears pricking forward as he stares at Revenge. He knows the Sheriff recognises his horse, he would be stupid if he didn't. He’s turned around a moment later, and he knows the ruse is up, rising from the crowd of creepers and chucking the grass away.

The two people with him spot him as well, stiffening up in the same way the Sheriff does. They meet eyes, the Sheriff staring at him with a strange intensity. He allows him that momentary glance, grinning and giving him the beginnings of a salute, before he’s off, sprinting through the mostly empty farm and leaping the fence at the other side.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(3,121 words)

uhhh, have a fic? (and, as always, reblogs > likes!)

One of the creepers hisses as he slips past it, but he turns, waving the grasses in its face again, drawing it closer and calming it down. It sniffs at the dried grass he keeps clutched in front of him like some personal shield, before rubbing along his hand with a more drawn out hiss.

“Hey there,” he murmurs, crouching a little lower as a few more creepers amble closer, destroying his so far undetected mission into the farm. They crowd around him, each clamouring for the dried grass.

He hunkers down a little lower, crouching and wondering how long it’s actually going to take for the Sheriff to look over here. There’s a rather sizeable cluster of creepers around him now, each trying to get at the prize he’s holding.

Revenge is standing at the fence too, standing very still and waiting for him to run back over, whenever he needs to make his quick escape. He flicks his tail slightly, glancing around and ignoring the way it brushes against the creepers around him.

It feels wrong to be so close to them and not have them blowing up in his face. He could probably touch one of them, and see what the weird, mossy covering they have actually feels like. One of them pushes its face closer to him, trying desperately to get at the grass he’s holding.

He’s sure he stinks of gunpowder and sulphur now, the smell of it rubbing off onto him as they shed the delicate grains. Revenge’s gonna protest when he gets back over there, he just knows it. They're quite endearing though, almost like oversized cats. Which is probably the wrong comparison to make, but it’s the closest one he has.

The creepers pause in their movement as something makes a sound, and his own ears prick up too, following the swivelling of the creeper heads towards the source of the sound. He can hear him, chatting to someone else.

He pokes his head out of the herd that’s gathered around him, watching as the Sheriff walks closer to the fence of the farm, leaning up against it. There’s two other people with him, dressed oddly formal for the heat of the mesa. He’s sure they're sweating in their weird shirts and uncomfortable looking trousers.

He shuffles a little closer, ears pricked for the conversation, listening, waiting for when someone notices the horse stood beside the fence, untied and apparently waiting for something. He’s trained Revenge well, he won't move until Tango’s there are spurring them both into action.

The creepers move with him, and he can hardly hear the conversation over the hissing noises they make as they walk, still trying to get at the grass in his hand. He gives up a moment later, watching as the Sheriff pauses, turning slightly.

He’s got a hand on Revenge’s saddle, preparing to haul himself up, when someone grabs at his tail, yanking him back harshly. He loses his breath as he hits the ground, staring up at the sun for a moment. The Sheriff has never grabbed him by the tail before, which he thinks is out of respect because it hurts like a bitch.

He rolls as a foot stamps down towards him, springing to his feet and staring at the person across from him. It’s one of the weird men from earlier, this one slightly red in the cheeks and sweating as they stare at each other.

“The hell do you think you're doing?” He spits, and the man doesn't respond, simply lunging for him again. He manages to grab his arm this time, holding on even as he shakes, twisting around until his arm is bent to the breaking point. Still, he does not let go.

He hears the Sheriff shout something, obviously trying to prepare the man for what’s about to happen. He doesn't let him finish, heat flashing over his body in a sizzle and causing the man to let go of him with a shout, reeling back as he clutches at his hand.

The smell of burning flesh fills the air around them, and he grins, peeling back his lips until it’s less of a grin and more of a snarl. He doesn't allow the man time to recover, watching as he stumbles and staggers, launching himself forward and barreling both of them into the dirt.

He has to close his eyes against the cloud that rises, hoping that the other is dumb enough not to. He shouts again, and really, does he need to be so loud, squirming beneath him. All of that earlier strength has apparently disappeared though, and he digs his claws into the man’s shoulders, feeling more than seeing him still beneath him.

He’s not dead. He doesn't plan on killing anyone, he’s just done the thing every prey animal does when faced with an inescapable predator and feigned death.

He’s turning away, realising very quickly that he won't have enough time to get Revenge, they're almost upon him and he has a choice to make. He can hear the Sheriff’s footsteps behind him, hooves thundering over the dried dirt, and he makes his decision, darting away just as he comes within range of him.

He sprints, feet slapping against the dirt, small clouds of dust rising around him as he sprints. His chest begins to ache after a few moments, a sharp pain jabbing him between the ribs and causing him to stumble and falter.

He darts behind a rocky outcropping, pressing his back to it and breathing in and out, trying to get rid of the stitch before he starts running again. He hunches over, trying to ignore the wheezing in his chest and reminding himself to start running again, because really he shouldn't be this out of practice already.

There’s the sound of skidding footsteps and a cloud of dust announcing the arrival of the Sheriff, who at least seems as out of breath as he is, partially leaning against the rocky outcrop as he stares him down.

His friends are nowhere within sight, which makes him grin a little bit. It makes the Sheriff pale a little, face suddenly a lot whiter than it was a few moments ago. “What?” He makes his way over to the Sheriff, “Not pleased to see me?”

He leans in close, pushing the boundaries, until they're nose to nose, and he can feel the Sheriff’s breath on his face. The smell of gunpowder rolls off of him, overlaying the softer smell of sweet hay.

“I never am, Bandit.” The Sheriff manages, but the delivery is slightly thrown off by the way he has to gasp for breath halfway through.

“But I think you are.” He catches the Sheriff’s jaw in his hand, running the back of one claw along the sharp edge, admiring it. He watches as the Sheriff’s throat bobs in a swallow, meeting his eyes a moment later.

They've gone a little wide, the white around the outside much more visible. But they're still as pretty as ever, a molten brown that threatens to swallow him fully if he continues to stare at him the way he is. He drinks it in as the Sheriff allows it to happen, head leaning into his palm slightly.

He doubts he even realises he’s doing it, leaning his head into his palm, ears flicking back down, relaxing a little as he leans closer to Tango and further away from the rocky outcropping he had been leaning on moments before.

He’s handsome, he knows this, but he still lets himself get caught up in his eyes and his hair and the earrings dangling from his ears everytime he gets close enough to admire it. Close enough to feel his breath ghost over his cheeks. Close enough to kiss him if he wanted to.

He’s considering it, running his thumb along the Sheriff’s cheek again, cupping his hand at the jaw and pulling him slightly closer when the other startles backwards.

Something crashes into his side, and he flails, managing to twist and land on his back rather than his side. There’s someone pressing onto him, and he thrashes again, tail hitting someone as he does so.

A moment later there’s a boot crushing it into the ground and he snarls, ripping a hand out of whoever’s grip to scrabble at the person holding him down. They simply grunt at his attack, pressing him further into the dirt until all he can taste is dust collecting in his mouth.

“Hey, hey!” He twists his head so he can listen a little better, “Go easy on him, go easy.” It’s the Sheriff. “C’mon, I need to get the cuffs on him, and I’d rather you didn't break anything while I'm doing that.”

The person relaxes their hold a little, allowing him to twist around fully and glare at them. It’s the second of the weird people, and they return his glare full force, boot grinding his tail a little further into the ground until he’s sure it’s broken.

They hold him by the shoulders as the Sheriff puts the cuffs on him, and he refuses to meet his eyes as he does it, fiddling with the metal as he clasps it around Tango’s wrists. Only then does the second weird person let him up, and even that’s only at the Sheriff’s orders.

The Sheriff is gentle leading him along, both of them falling a little further behind the second weird person, who is quickly joined by weird person number one. The latter aims a particularly nasty look at him, shirt stained by his own blood. He feels a little proud of himself for that.

“Is anything broken?” The Sheriff is so quiet he almost thinks he imagines it before he looks at him.

“What?” He stares at him, and the Sheriff looks away, cheeks darkening a little. And oh. That’s interesting. He grins a little to himself at that small shred of information.

“I just noticed that they stood on your tail, which, I know how much that hurts.” The Sheriff continues, “And I wanted to make sure nothing’s broken, because otherwise that’s on me.”

“Uh,” he looks at the pair ahead, “I'm pretty sure that's on them, buddy.” He nods ahead of them, towards the weird guys. He flicks his tail from side to side as he walks, finding no immediate stabbing pain, only a faint ache that’ll probably be gone within a few hours.

“You can't say that.” The Sheriff hisses, looking ahead in a panic, like- like he’s scared of them.

“Why not?” He decides to test the edges of this boundary, “They're just weird guys in weird uniforms.”

“They're not-” the Sheriff cuts himself off with a sigh, “They're officials from a nearby empire. They're here to make sure that we’re giving justice out.” He gives him a significant look at that, and oh. Oh he’s probably fucked this all up for him.

“What are they going to do about it?” He shrugs the concern off as they begin the walk down into the fishbowl - which is a dumb yet endearing name - and towards the town. The ‘officials’ have hung back and waited for them to approach, and the Sheriff cuts off their conversation pretty quickly after that.

The rest of the walk to the town is in uncomfortable silence, and the Sheriff grips his shoulder just a little too tightly as they descend. Not enough to hurt, but he can feel the anxiety rolling off of him in waves as the two officials take up places on either side of them, as though the Sheriff is a criminal too.

They pause just outside of the office, where Revenge is already stood, tied up and waiting for him. His ears prick up as he spots Tango, stomping his hooves and shifting from side to side. Normally, if it was just him and the Sheriff, he’d be able to wriggle free from these cuffs within seconds and hightail it out of there with Revenge.

This time, the officials are watching him carefully, scrutinising his every movement, as though just waiting for him to try and escape. He doesn't give them the opportunity to call him out on it, standing perfectly still as they continue to wait outside of the office for…something.

“Is this really the bandit that’s been giving you so much trouble, Sheriff?” The first one, taller of the two and still bleeding, speaks. He doesn't like the emphasis he puts on Sheriff, making it sound like more of a mockery than a title. The Sheriff seems to sense it too, stiffening beside him.

They're close enough for their arms to brush, the Sheriff’s skin warm against his. He takes a small, shuffling step closer, pressing their arms further together. He doesn't give any response except flicking his eyes to the side to look at him.

“He’s not been giving us much trouble,” the Sheriff says, “There’s hardly ever any harm done, and most of that harm is to my ego.” He laughs, but his joke doesn't land and the tension seems to grow thicker. They continue to watch him carefully, sizing him up in a way that makes him uncomfortable.

“We can take him off your hands.” The second says, “We have a much more suitable prison where we are, he’ll be no bother any more.”

The Sheriff’s hands tighten around the cuffs, pulling his wrists closer together in a way that would be painful if he was paying attention to that. Instead, he’s staring at the second person, heart beating loudly in his ears and the words circling in his head.

“That won't be necessary.” The Sheriff snaps, “Our facilities are perfectly fine here.”

“Your facilities,” the first sneers, “Are barely passable.”

“But they're still passable.” He grits out, “We can deal with him, just as we’ve dealt with bandits in the past.” The Sheriff tugs him towards the steps of the office, just barely stepping past Revenge before the bleeding one speaks up again.

“This solution is a lot more permanent.” He says, as though that’s meant to entice him, “He won't be a problem to you ever again. Get him out of your hair.”

“I don't need him outta my hair.” The Sheriff wheels back around, and he’s yanked with him by his wrists, stumbling. The Sheriff steadies him with a hand that shouldn't burn as much as it does. “We’ve got him perfectly contained here. Now,” he’s gritting his teeth as he speaks, eyes burning, “Get outta here before I stick you in there with him.”

The officials stare at the two of them for a moment longer, but some more people have emerged from their houses to watch the show-down, and they retreat, though not without casting another glance back at them. He hopes they have to walk all the way back to wherever they came from.

The Sheriff huffs, pulling him inside the office, then pushing him into a cell and locking the door. They both know it won't do much, but he continues to stand outside of the cell for a moment longer.

“You need to start being more careful.” He says, which is the last thing he expected from this. “You attacked someone that could very easily have you killed. For whatever reason they please, they're not tolerant, they’ll mark you down as rabid and that’ll be it. I won't be able to do anything after that.”

“Well, apparently I don't need to worry as long as my knight in shining armour is there to save me.” He purrs, leaning up against the bars. He runs one finger down it, grinning when the Sheriff’s eyes follow the movement.

“You can't depend on that.” He says, turning away from the bars. “I'm going home now, it’s late and I'm tired. Who knows,” he turns to look back at him, “Maybe I forgot to lock the cell door on my way out from the stress and exhaustion of the day.”

He watches him leave in silence, the door swinging behind him. He can hear his footsteps moving away, but he still waits until he can't hear them anymore before heating his skin up again, watching as the metal around his wrists softens, allowing him to pull his hands out easily.

He reshapes the cuffs again, leaving them to cool on the floor. He knows they don't have very many resources here, and it would be rude of him to leave them unusable after every escape.

The cell door is unlocked when he pushes against it, to his surprise. He had watched the Sheriff mess around with the door as they spoke, but apparently he hadn't locked it.

He doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth, slipping through the silent office and out into the quickly growing gloom of evening. He stops, admiring the town around him and the flickering lights of each building.

Revenge is still waiting for him, whickering quietly when he reaches him, raising himself into the saddle and steering him out into the centre of the road again. He looks around, admiring the houses once more.

His gaze drifts, as it always does, to the house at the very end of the street. It’s where the Sheriff lives, anyone in the area knows it’s his house, for one reason or another. There’s a light on in one of the windows.

The shadows of the window above take shape, and he finds the Sheriff watching him from his window, chin resting in one hand. He doesn't move to run out after him, simply lifting a hand in a wave.

He returns the wave with a salute, shock directing his actions more than any conscious thought. Revenge is quick into action as he heads towards the path leading out of the fishbowl, but he can't help but glance back once more.

The Sheriff is still watching him, still standing in that darkened window.

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purplefangirl42 · 1 year

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I am wondering if you can do a Hunter as a Cowboy Sheriff X Female Reader

Thanks for the request! I hope this meets your expectations! I'd totally be open to doing a second part for this if you want.

Tags: Stranded reader, Western AU

Dust covered everything. Your skirt, your boots, your hair, even your eyelashes were coated in dust. You had tried to rub your eyes to remove the offending particles, but had only succeeded in getting in your eyes, which caused more problems. What you really needed was a bath, but even a dip in a cool creek would suffice at this point.

You had been traveling across the sandy plains with a friend and her family, making your way to the next town when you were attacked by bandits during the night. You had managed to steer your horse away from danger and ride off into the darkness on your own. Unfortunately for you, the horse had gotten spooked by something and dumped you in the dirt before taking off, leaving you all alone.

You had spent the last few hours trudging across the empty land in front of you, not really sure which direction you were headed. For all you knew, you could be going in the complete opposite direction of the town you had been traveling towards before the attack. It was likely that you would never see civilization again.

Eventually, you came across a large bush and you sat down in the dirt beside it. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew that once it was high in the sky, you would truly be in danger. You had no food and no water. This bush was the only thing around you, offering you a place to sit where you would be shaded. Wandering aimlessly would get you nowhere, so here by the bush you decided to stay.

After a few more hours had passed, the sun was indeed high in the sky, scorching down on you despite the shade provided by the bush. You could feel your skin heating up under the sunshine and your discomfort grew with each minute that passed. Your refuge didn’t seem so appealing now. Maybe it would have been better to keep walking.

The sound of hooves grabbed your attention and you sat up to peer over the top of your bush. In the haze of the dusty air, you could see two horses, one with a man sitting atop it and the other free of a rider. You didn’t know if this was one of the bandits that had attacked you the night before, so you quickly ducked your head back behind the bush.

Then you heard it. The man was calling your name. You didn’t recognize the voice, how did he know your name? Curious, you poked your head up again to look at him. He had gotten down off his horse and was crouched in the dirt, as if he was looking for something. Your need to get out of this situation overpowered your wish to stay hidden, so you waved your hand to get his attention.

“I’m here!” you shouted.

The man looked up from his crouched position at the sound of your voice and quickly got back on his horse. He rode towards you, leading the unoccupied horse behind him. When he reached the bush, you stood to your full height, determined to put on a strong front.

The man got down from his horse and approached you, raising his hand to cover his eyes from the burning sunlight. He wore a black cowboy hat and had a red scarf around his neck, but what really got your attention was that half of his face was covered in a black tattoo. Your gaze drifted down to the front of his chest, where a gold star badge glittered brightly in the sun.

A sheriff. A sheriff that knew your name and had come to look for you.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours, ma’am,” he said. “Your friend rode into town like hell itself was chasing her, screaming for help. She said she had lost you in the confusion and that you were still out here by yourself.”

“I’m glad you found me,” you said, pointing to the spare horse, “and my horse apparently.”

“I found him wandering around all alone, so I followed his trail back to where it looks like you were thrown from his back and then followed your prints from there. Are you alright?”

“I’m sore, dirty, parched, and exhausted. But other than that, I’m alright.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said, giving you a small smile. He removed his hat and held it across his chest as he bowed his head. “I beg your pardon, my name is Sheriff Hunter. I’m from the town not too far from where you were attacked.”

“I am grateful to you, Sheriff. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to get out of this dreadful heat.”

Sheriff Hunter placed his hat back on his head and gestured to your horse. He helped you up into the saddle before climbing back on his own horse. He guided the pair of you in the direction he had appeared from, which you guessed led towards the town he had spoken about.

As you rode, you had a pleasant conversation to pass the time. He told you about how he and his brothers worked together to protect the town from bandits and others that had no good intentions. He also mentioned he had a younger sister that they were raising, and that he hoped she’d be something great someday.

“How many brothers do you have?” you asked.

“Fo…three,” he said, correcting himself in the middle of his sentence. “There were five of us originally, but one of them made some poor decisions and he’s no longer around.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. “Maybe he’ll come back someday.”

“Maybe,” Hunter said softly.

After that, your conversation ground to a halt. You could tell that he was bothered by the fact that his brother was no longer in the picture. You hoped that your handsome rescuer would be able to have his family reunited one day. You knew how it felt to lose a sibling, and you wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone.

After some time, you could finally see the town in the distance. Hunter urged the horses to move faster and soon enough, you reached the edge of town. He led you through the bustling streets until you came to a stop in front of the Sheriff’s station. A small blonde girl sat on the front steps and she perked up at your arrival. She bolted to her feet and ran inside, calling for someone as she went.

You climbed down off your horse, and made a futile attempt to brush the dust off your skirt. You heard a voice call your name and when you turned, you saw your friend standing in the doorway to the station. She gathered her skirt in her hands and ran down the steps toward you, wrapping you up in her arms when she reached you.

“I’m so glad you’re safe!” she shouted as she pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You have Sheriff Hunter to thank for that. If he hadn’t found me, I’d be wandering the desert for the rest of my life.”

Your friend released you from her hold and turned to Hunter, nodding her head in thanks.

“You have my gratitude, Sheriff.”

Hunter returned her nod and turned to look at you.

“Try to stay out of trouble for a little while, darlin’,” he said. “Don’t want to have to come rescue you again.”

You gave him a soft smile and turned your gaze down as your cheeks began to heat up.

“I’ll try my best, Sheriff.”

#hunter x reader #hunter tbb #sergeant hunter #the bad batch #tbb #hunter tbb x reader #star wars:the bad batch

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circesays · 2 years

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{Alright so this AU (I’m going to call it the Cursed Toy AU and tag it as such- this started this AU, and this is the continuation of it) has affected my thoughts and now I have More Ideas so here’s another one. I’m already drafting a sequel to this one and maybe gonna put these on Ao3, so if you have any ideas or something like that, feel free to tag it in a reblog or notes or dms or anything like that :D}

{also, sorry not sorry. ;)}

The day everything truly began to go downhill was calm, at first. The inhabitants of Tumble Town were loud, going about their daily routines in the usual chaotic manner. Horses raced and whinnied, their hooves beating against the ground and kicking up pale dust. The barn animals called out as they were brushed or sheared or fed. Casual chatter and laughter rose from couples and friends and rivals as they mined gold, herded creepers, and worked on expanding another house. All of it echoed in the bowl, a cacophony of joy and teasing outrage and life.

(Of course, they couldn’t have known that it wouldn’t last.)

Jimmy watched from his office, the window still stained and dusty, despite having cleaned it several times just hours earlier. He idly twirled his wooden pen, adorned with a carved horse head, a gift from the first settlers to arrive to their new home.

Despite the laughter from below, the Sheriff had a sinking feeling in his gut. It wasn’t the familiar thrum of the God of Lore’s arrival, nor the cold pounding of anxiety that consumed him whenever he saw his eyes (not his not his not his) in the mirror or narrowly avoided snagging his the pull-string on his back.

No, this was unfamiliar. Unusual. But he had a feeling that it wasn’t anything good.

(And he knew the joy wasn’t to last, because he was cursed and abandoned and seemingly ignored by his friend. And it was so, so odd, because his friends knew his limits, and they know him, so how could they not see-?)

As the sun steadily made its way toward the horizon, time progressed as usual. The inhabitants met at the saloon in the evening to relax and play games. The stables were locked up for the night, the animals settled in their stalls. Jimmy sat at his usual seat, listening to the eager ramblings of a new settler, a young woman gesturing wildly as she described the designs for her new forge setup.

He fiddled with the empty glass in front of him, happily nodding along and offering ideas.

(Jimmy had quickly stopped feeling hungry or thirsty, when he’d finally turned fully. He could no longer sleep, or blink, or bleed. He turned to glue and potions instead of bandages and bread.)

In the corner of the room, a group playing poker created a ruckus as one of the players cheered jubilantly, the rest groaning or playfully punching their arm.

(And the feeling spiked.)

The Sheriff sat up straight, immediately on edge. The blacksmith frowned, her amber eyes shooting to scan the room for any threats. Within only a few moments, the saloon was on high alert, people peering out windows and climbing into the rafters with practiced ease to aim out of the higher vantage points.

(Because the entire town respected their Sheriff, trusted him. He was entwined with the magic of their home and the lives of his people. He’d never let them down, not even when an intruder changed him.)

An elderly stablehand was the first to break the stillness. “There’s a boy running over from the barnyard.”

Sure enough, a brunette, no older than 16, burst into the room, huffing and panting, his hands on his dusty jeans as he tried to recover as fast as possible. “Trouble- in- the- stables!” he gasped, pointing shakingly back out the door. “Come quick! They’re- the horses-”

The Sheriff strode over and gave him a glass of water, which he drank as quickly as possible without making himself sick.

“I was just going in to double check the water supply for the morning. The horses are restless- I’m not sure- they’re-” he stumbled over his words and paused, frustrated, before trying again. “The horses are turning into plastic. I can’t make it stop.”

(Little did they know that it was just the beginning.)

As days went by, more problems arose. The Sheriff ran himself ragged, not needing sleep or rest. The horses were fully plastic within a few days, their flanks smooth and dull. They could no longer run quickly or even keep at a solid trot, their joints having too much friction.

(Their steeds lived, fueled by the very magic infecting them. But it came with a heavy toll.)

(Within a week, Tumble Town lost their main method of transportation.)

The houses were next, the walls changing and morphing. Instead of wood streaked with yellow and scarlet dust, they were pale mints and sunshine yellows and pastel pinks, completely untouched by the surroundings.

(One cowboy tried to brighten the situation, jokingly complaining that the aesthetic was lost, that that darned god was completely destroying their nice, dirty, chaotic-energy town.)

(Another grimaced, because their precious home was built completely by hand, taking days of cutting wood and painting walls. Now their house looked like every other house in the town, a two-bit dollhouse with no love put into its creation.)

Anything alive in the town began to shift quickly after. Fur and wool and down turned to fluff and stuffing, the entire barn becoming a plushie overnight. Every pet was still, the faint pit pat of a stuffed heart keeping them alive.

(The Sheriff carefully adjusted Deputies Flick and Norman in their beds, the fire in his heart raging, because not even their companions or their food was spared.)

Everything came to its breaking point the very next morning. Jimmy lifted his dull eyes from the letters he’d been writing.

(Pleading for aide, for help, for mercy. The trash can was overflowing with imperfect drafts, because nothing could quite convey the message of “you’ve ruined my life and my people’s lives and my home and you’re fools and traitors and why are you ignoring me” kindly.)

Since Tumble Town’s founding, the Sheriff would begin his day earlier than every other inhabitant. Every morning, Jimmy would listen to the noise of his town waking up, from the laughter of parents bringing their children to the stables for the ride to school, to the whinnies of horses and the crowing of roosters.

(Even as their home changed around them, from loud and chaotic and alive to plastic and plush and dull, the people of Tumble Town began their mornings with noise, because it was a constant that held them together.)

This morning, the town was silent. The roosters could no longer croak. The horses slept, unable to move.

The townspeople didn’t emerge from their homes.

(The Sheriff felt true fear, a bolt of white-cold terror down his spine.)

He took off, scrambling down the steps and to the houses nearby, his once-shining golden badge (now cheap plastic, tarnished by the magic that cursed him and cursed his home) left on his desk.

Movement caught his eye, the Sheriff rapidly spinning on his heel. The brunette, the young boy from the stables, stumbled towards him. Jimmy barely managed to reach him before he fell.

“Heya, Sheriff,” he croaked. His skin was wooden, and his eyes were fading to paint even as he spoke. “Guess I’m the last one left. Ma’ and Mum were already frozen.”

Jimmy couldn’t speak, his horror causing his throat to tighten and his words to catch (the string, the string, the string-).

“Hey, Uncle Jimmy?”

(That nickname, given fondly, because this little scrap of a brunette was the first child in Tumble Town, the honorary leader of the stables-)

(On his desk, a wooden horse pen left a trail of ink on an unfinished letter.)

“Give them hell for us, would’ja?”

(And the boy smiled, his eyes dulling.)

Jimmy scrambled to place his head to his heart, unable to feel a pulse because his neck was made of wood-

(The steady thump of another plush heart was the only thing keeping the Sheriff grounded.)

Jimmy had never wished he could cry more.

(Around him, Tumble Town gave a final wisp of a sigh as his home and his people and his friends turned into toys.)

#mcyt #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #empires smp season 2 #empires season 2 #tumble town #lore #there’s a few ocs but they’re townspeople #solidarity jimmy #solidaritygaming #angst #empires fanfic #Cursed Toy AU #yeah this is a thing now and it’s Consumed my writing brain #I’ve been trying to work on my team rancher fic but this said lol no #toy jimmy

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