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rahuratna · 4 days ago

Text

Synopsis: Astarion stumbles upon a new skill and the legend of Two Hand 'Starion is born!

Tags: Humour, fluff, crack, violence, dirty jokes, slight Astarion x Reader.

This fic has been inspired by the amazing @radish-breath , whose late night BG3 conversations with me (on how re-spec of characters changes the whole party dynamic) have fuelled this madness. Merry Christmas, Radish! 🎄🎊

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Faerun was a land of contrasts, if your adventures were anything to go by. On the one hand, new and varied wonders unfolded before your eyes each day, while on the other, those same wonders sometimes sprouted a few too many teeth, claws (and in some cases, tentacles) for anyone's liking.

Today was that kind of day; today the dice rolled against luck, and you and Astarion were its unfortunate victims.

Ogres, of all things.

After that rather daunting meeting with three of the aesthetically-impaired species in the Blighted Village, you'd fancied yourself a bit more careful going forward. One would think that after such a mistake, you might have recognised the signs.

And Gods, were the signs noticeable. Maybe if Astarion hadn't started an argument about Scratch slobbering all over his tunic while he slept, you wouldn't have been quite so distracted and may have picked up on the smell (like a latrine frequented by fifty oxen with the flux) or maybe the bones (femurs the size of your torso scored by the marks of large teeth) or perhaps the smell of roasted dwarf on a spit over a campfire (with its remarkably unique bouquet).

The hunter's stash that you'd found the co-ordinates for, and marked on your map, had yielded disappointing results. Someone had got to it first, evidently, only leaving behind some weaponry and a few alchemical ingredients.

Among them were two finely crafted hand crossbows which Astarion had regarded with barely concealed disdain. He'd been on the lookout for something that dealt more damage. Temperament soured, he'd started bemoaning the state of the camp with that 'flea-ridden bag of blood' prancing around.

And so it was that you'd strolled, rather nonchalantly, right into the middle of an ogre dinner. You'd stopped dead, all arguments for the healing powers of Scratch's saliva promptly forgotten. Beside you, Astarion opened his mouth to counter you, spotted the ogres and slowly cranked his jaw shut again.

Silence reigned in the clearing. One of the ogres wiped sheep fat off his lips politely, presumably waiting for you to introduce yourself. Collecting your wits, you stepped forward, far more boldly than you felt.

"Well met. We're just passing through."

The ogre grunted, amusement clear in his eyes.

"Nah."

"You see, I - "

"You lookin' tasty, little piggy."

Another ogre, with an alarming growth of fungus along the side of its face turned his full attention to you, picking gristle from between his teeth with a pike.

"I mean, that one looks tasty. The other un' be lookin' runty. No flavourin'".

Astarion raised an eyebrow.

"I assure you, good sirs, my flavour is just sublime."

"Oo you lyin' to, wormy?"

You cut in before any further damage could be done. It was time to bring out the charisma. And a flash of inspiration had struck you, that daredevil little spark that seemed to emerge whenever the odds were stacked against you.

"Oh, his flavour is nothing to be laughed at. Don't you know who he is?"

Beside you, Astarion tensed. His voice was a hiss, audible only to you.

"What do you think you're - "

But now you have the ogres' full attention, and you're not about to waste this window of opportunity. Stepping forward, you pulled off your hood, gesturing to Astarion with a flourish.

"Have you never heard of 'Two Hand 'Starion'?"

Fungus Face belched loudly, eyes sliding inwards to the bridge of his squashed-pudding nose as he gave this question the consideration it deserved.

"Nah?"

"Oo in the seven 'ells izzat?"

Your hands spread wide, inviting them into the weave of your tale.

"Oh, he's known by many different names across the realms. I've only been his travel companion for a fraction of his long journey. He also goes by Starblazer, or Boltazar, the fastest draw in Avernus."

Astarion's glare was now eating into the back of your head like an acid-spill, but you were in too deep to retreat. Skipping lightly forward, you mimed the action of drawing and firing two crossbows.

"He's unmatched in speed, graceful as a panther, his hands nothing more than a blur as he rains bolts of flame and ice down upon his foes."

You spun on your heel and the third ogre, who had been quietly occupied with stuffing his face, hoping that nobody else would notice the food disappearing down his gullet, dropped a dwarf leg in surprise.

"He stalks the astral realm, beyond where even a seasoned traveler like myself dares to roam, and braves the wrath of the fiercest githyanki warriors. Even they cannot pin him down, because his draw is faster still."

Fungus Face scowled.

"What if I eat one o' them arms? Then he'll just be One Hand 'Starion."

Sheep Fat seemed to be the smarter one among them, because he was beginning to look a trifle nervous. He made a shushing gesture at Fungus Face.

"This sounds awful f'miliar. What if she's telling the truth? About this Starblazer? Swear I 'eard the name before."

You're not sure which of the many embellished tales this ogre has heard and confused with your own hastily-spun fantasy, but that's hardly your concern. Clearing your throat, you take a few more steps towards safety, gesturing expansively at Astarion. He looks singularly unimpressed.

"But you must have heard the tales, or at least some form of them!"

You raise a hand, expression turning suddenly sombre.

"Please, in your best interests, friends. Don't impede our journey. I see you're all enjoying a good meal, around a roaring campfire. Don't let our intrusion cause an unnecessary skirmish. I only say this with your lives and safety in mind."

You jerked your head subtly at your companion. If this ruse was to work, it needed one final demonstration from him. Granted, you weren't expecting a lot, just enough to sell the story to a bunch of gormless (if rather terrifying) ogres who the two of you would definitely struggle to take in open combat.

What you weren't anticipating was the entirely separate persona that seemed to inhabit Astarion's body the moment your signal was given. As disgruntled as he'd seemed at your initial ploy, he was certainly playing along beautifully now.

Kicking lazily off the tree he'd been leaning against, he sauntered into the firelight, bringing with him the sure-footed elegance of a seasoned bounty hunter. The two crossbows you'd discovered in the stash earlier appeared in his hands as if by magic, a deft twirl of the wrist settling them in firing position. His eyes gleamed scarlet in the gloom, dangerous and calculating.

"Now, I don't see the point of revealing my identity unless truly necessary."

Even something about his accent had changed, the timbre of his voice lower, deeper, edged with malice.

"I do recognise, however, that you three are worthy of being called strong. I'd hate for your lives to end here. After all, when you've wandered as long as I have, strong opponents are hard to come by."

The ogres were now silent, uncertain. Or at least, two of them were. Fungus Face was slowly reaching for his club. Before you had a chance to shout a warning, Astarion's hand came up, a soft 'zing' sounding through the clearing before the club spun from the ogre's grasp, flying a few feet away. Another bolt had been loaded and strung before anyone could react, the vampire's jaunty posture a direct challenge.

What in the - Had Astarion always been that good of a marksman?

You hastily adjust your expression. Whatever the outcome, you couldn't be goggling at him in the same manner as the ogres. You had a performance to complete. Astarion's drawl cut through the tension pervading the camp.

"Dont make me riddle you with holes, there's a dear."

Fungus Face, finally convinced, sat down heavily. You nodded, cautious.

"Let's ... be on our way then. No use in troubling these fine ogres any longer."

As soon as you were out of the ogres' perception, you broke into a sprint. Only when the clearing had been well and truly left in the dust, did you slow down, panting heavily, hands resting on your knees. You turned, one finger stabbing at the pale elf who jogged up beside you.

"What in the hell was that?"

He sneered.

"I should be asking you the same question. 'Two Hand 'Starion'? Was that the best you could do?"

You waved aside his naming concerns, struggling to catch your breath.

"No, not that. I mean ... when did you get so skilled with a crossbow?"

As much as you'd only been traveling together for a month, you knew enough about Astarion to pick up on his little tells. While he seemed to be trying to hide the fact, he was also somewhat confused by the convincing nature of his own charade.

Glancing down at the crossbows, he gave a graceful shrug.

"Well, I've had many years to practice with missiles of all kinds. I suppose my skill with other bows must have carried over."

"So what you're saying is ... that you're actually a natural? And this is really your first time dabbling in this particular skill?"

He cleared his throat and your eyes narrowed. Were the tips of his ears turning ... pink? Since when had praise of any kind unsettled him? Astarion was quick to change the subject.

"Can we please get back to camp now? You've had me traipsing through this damn forest for hours and my fingernails are in an absolute state."

On the way back to your base, you eyed him surreptitiously. He seemed deep in thought, fingers occasionally drifting down to trace over the crossbows which now had place of honour on his belt.

"All right. Out with it. What's going on with him?"

It was Gale who posed the question while preparing dinner a few weeks later. You were helping him slice vegetables into the large cast-iron cook pot. On your left, Karlach, who'd been peeling potatoes, leaned in conspiratorially.

"Yeah, it's not like him at all. What happened, that day in the forest?"

Sighing, you vented your frustrations on a hapless carrot.

"Look, it's exactly what I told you. We ran into those ogres, he improvised with the crossbows and now he bloody well won't let them out of his sight."

Gale's brow was knitted in thought.

"He does favour them, yes. And then he keeps disappearing into the forest - "

Karlach gasped.

"Wait, you don't think he - "

You shook your head vehemently.

"He wouldn't. And besides, if he really was wandering into the forest to kill creatures left and right, we'd be seeing the bodies, yes?"

Karlach gave you both a blank stare.

"Oh. No, I was imagining more along the lines of him wanking off to them."

Gale choked on air and you almost sliced off a finger.

"Karlach - "

"Elaborate?"

She waved a hand, the potato within it dwarfed by the size of her palm.

"Dont ask me about the logistics, mate. Astarion is creative when it comes to those things, right?"

Gale massaged at the growing furrow between his brows.

"As skilled as I have no doubt he is, I think even Astarion would find it difficult to - "

"To what, my darlings?"

All three of you froze in position.

When had he arrived? Astarion had always been stealthy, but not like this.

Gale glanced up at him, eyeing the crossbows that had now been holstered in a special harness across the shoulders that Astarion had fashioned for himself.

"Ah. Astarion. We were just - "

"Talking - "

"About stuff and ... you ... and - "

"About ... you know... your crossbows and - "

"Wanking," concluded Karlach, solemnly.

Astarion raised an eyebrow before sashaying over to the campfire and draping himself over a nearby tree trunk.

"As much as I love the idea of all three of you tickling your little pearls in longing for me - "

Gale grimaced.

"Never happened, I assure you."

" - I've got a more ... immediate issue."

"Oh?"

You stare at him curiously. Since the ogre incident, Astarion has been particularly reticent, and him seeking out your help was an unusual, if welcome change.

Karlach, ever eager to assist, perks up immediately.

"Well, out with it then."

Astarion's eyes dropped to the ground and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he looked slightly bashful. He unsheathed his crossbows and placed them carefully within the circle of firelight, where you can all see them clearly.

"I - I need ... "

His words come out in a rush.

"I need some help naming them."

Gale promptly dropped the ladle he was holding.

"Naming?"

Astarion rose, looking slightly agitated, and began to pace before you.

"Look, I know how it sounds. I know how unlike me it is to become attached to something, even if an inanimate object. I know, all too well, the impermanence of the material, but ..."

He turned to you, and the earnest appeal in his eyes surprised you to no end.

"I like how the crossbows make me feel. It's the first time something has come this ... naturally to me. It's effortless. Not something I have to elaborately craft. Just - Just help me with this. Please."

Karlach made her way over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You can rely on us, Astarion. We'll help with anything you request."

You felt a little misty-eyed yourself and even Gale cleared his throat and dabbed at his eye suspiciously. Karlach clapped her hands, taking charge of the situation.

"Right. So, good people, Astarion needs help finding names for his trusty weapons. I'm partial to a little naming myself. I had a Blood Drinker and a Kidney Shredder, once upon a time."

Gale waved his hands hurriedly, as Astarion's nose abruptly wrinkled.

"Lovely names, to be sure, but maybe Astarion is looking for something a tad less on the nose."

You hummed thoughtfully, taking in the strong, delicate lines of the crossbows.

"Hmm. How about, Sting and Strike?"

Your vampire companion moved closer into the firelight, eyes gleaming, stroking his chin.

"Direct, yes, but ... too pedestrian."

Gale stood, the cook pot forgotten.

"Warp and Weft."

"More suitable for a wizard, I think."

Karlach slammed a fist into her palm.

"Growl and Thunder."

"My crossbows are not of the canine persuasion."

Slowly, the whole camp gets drawn into the naming exercise, their enthusiasm growing. Wyll, Shadowheart and Halsin were next in line to provide their suggestions.

"Valour and Honour."

"Wax and Wane."

"Briar and Nettle."

To his credit, Astarion gave each of their ideas due consideration before rejecting them. Nice of him, considering how outlandish some of the names brought forward were.

"Bulette and Shroom!"

"I'd rather not have memories of that place."

"Rough and Tumble."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Frank and Furter!"

"... what?"

You shrug.

"Sounded appropriate."

It is, surprisingly, Withers who steps in to save the day. Quite suddenly, he is among you, pale eyes calmly taking in the crossbows while the fire flickers along the gold tracery adorning his face. His voice, soft as it is, immediately silences the good-natured bickering around you.

"There are many instruments of death, some reliable, primitive. Others speak of ingenuity, the kind directed at dealing pain. Strange they are, the subjects that stimulate human creativity."

He turns to Astarion, expression distant, as always.

"For one whose name has already been recorded, pain must be your constant companion. You must be a disciple of chaos and mayhem. If these weapons must be yours, let them have fitting names. Be the death that comes swiftly, and leave sorrow in your wake."

So saying, Withers made his calm exit. Astarion was nodding to himself, eyes kindling with ... something you couldn't quite be certain of.

"Swift and Sorrow. Hmm. Yes. I think that'll do nicely."

Soon enough, you realise what Astarions's lengthy disappearances into the forest had been in aid of. He had been ... practicing.

You're not quite sure what kind of regimen he had put himself through, but the results were quite astounding.

The first time you saw it in action was during a raid on a bandit camp that your party has been planning for a while. You'd received intelligence of an medical text in a vault, stored deep within the mountain, that might give some insight into how your parasite might be removed.

The trouble began with the discovery that a group of bandits had settled right outside the entrance, completely unaware of the significance of the chambers beneath them. Their camp was well-fortified and guarded, almost impregnable by anyone's standards. The sheer cliffs surrounding it saw to that.

You had no choice but to approach from the lower ground, which gave you a distinct disadvantage, in both numbers and position. Nonetheless, the text within the vault was important. You had to get hold of it to give yourself every opportunity available.

On the morning of the raid, Astarion caused a bit of a stir when he emerged from his tent.

Gone was the light leather armour he favoured, the lace-edged collars and sleeves jutting rakishly out at neck and wrist. He was now dressed in Drow armour, lithe form encased fully in the dark leather. Some enchantment had been placed upon the ensemble, shadows gathering about him like a shroud.

By the time you'd reached the enemy encampment, it was late evening. The crudely drawn symbols on ragged red pennants flapped vigorously in the wind, a warning of what was to come should you venture further up the winding mountain pass.

Just as you were all moving into your respective positions, Astarion's hand came down lightly on your shoulder.

"Would you be so kind, my pretty dove, as to allow me to go in first this time?"

In the growing gloom, his form was even less distinct. The hood that came with the new armour had been pulled up, his glossy, pale curls completely concealed. You'd never noticed before quite how predatory his eyes seemed in the darkess, polished garnets lit from within with unholy fire.

Nodding slowly, you agreed.

"All right. We'll be right behind you. Be careful."

Slowly, cautiously, you ascended the rocky path, Shadowheart and Lae'zel in tow. The githyanki warrior was unusually quiet. Under regular circumstances, she'd have passed some biting quip on others' lack of strength or fighting ability, but tonight she looked ... almost anticipatory. Excited.

Soon, you're in a fairly favourable position, crouched in some bushes on the outskirts of the camp. You have a clear view of the sentries and the bandits milling about at the centre. However you looked at it, it would be a difficult battle, what with that palisade barrier and those -

"Oi. Where's Marcus got to?"

"Said he was brushing down the horses. Why?"

The blonde bandit who had asked the question shrugged, looking slightly puzzled.

"Well, that's where I saw him last. Can't find him now. Oh well."

You exchanged glances with Shadowheart, but held your position. Shortly afterward, another bandit, a halfling with a long dagger strapped to his back, wandered past, looking confused.

"Hey, did anyone see those powder satchels I left on the casket?"

"Be more careful, idiot! Look around. It'll turn up."

An aggravated shout came from across the camp.

"Marcus, you lout! I've been looking for you high and low, where have you - Wait. Wait. Marcus? What in the hells are you - "

"That's - that's not Marcus!"

"Run!"

Narrowing your eyes, you made out the figure of a man, presumably Marcus, shambling into the firelight. It was obvious that he was no longer among the living, but his limbs carried him with jerky, spasmodic movements towards the blaze. Strapped around his form were the missing powder satchels.

From beside you, Shadowheart gave an approving hum as the bandits swarmed in panic, diving out of the way as 'Marcus' made a beeline for the fire, leaping right into the midst of it. An explosion rent the air, a cloud of acrid smoke pouring from the centre of the camp, accompanied by a rain of what appeared to be the remnants of Marcus.

Floundering within the cloud of smoke, the bandits soon realised that their number was being cut even further. First one, then two, then four, each brought down with a gurgling yell, dark tendrils lacing their skin where the fine bolts pierced their flesh.

"Who is it? Where is it coming from?"

The leader of the bandits, a hefty man in plate armour, wielding an enormous axe, brandished his weapon, eyes streaming from the smoke.

"To me! To me!"

His rallying cry brought a stumbling group to his side, their weapons held at the ready.

"Show yourself, you stinking coward!"

A voice came coiling through the night, mocking, sultry, full of dark delight.

"My, my. We are fierce aren't we? Pity your ... large, stiff swords won't be of much use here."

Another bolt, shot with unerring precision, through the smoke, straight through the heart of one of the bandits.

"Behind the wagons! Now! Take cover!"

Lae'zel grunted, her nostrils flaring. The scent of blood was making her itch for battle, but you still didn't give the signal to break cover.

"There's the bastard!"

From behind the fire, a sleek shape stepped into visibility. One of the men crouching behind the wagon slung a smoking vial of acid his way. He sidestepped neatly, tutting like a school marm at a rowdy bunch of youngsters.

"Where are your manners? You haven't even allowed me to introduce myself."

"Who the fuck cares! Fire his way! Don't stop!"

Astarion dodged another arrow, then danced around a volley of bolts laden with an ice enchantment.

Was he -

Yes. Yes, he was giggling.

"Gentlemen, not all at once! Please. My sore little body can't take any more."

In spite of herself, Shadowheart's mouth was twitching. You groaned internally. If you used a spell to speak to the dead that littered the camp, you swore that they'd all sit upright screaming about sexual harassment.

The leader of the bandits seemed to be growing more and more enraged with every one of the insouciant vampire's taunts.

"Who in the fucking blazes are you?"

Astarion came to a dramatic halt, arms spread wide, eyes positively shining.

"Oh darling, I'm so glad you asked. They call me Two Hand 'Starion, and these lovely ladies are Swift and Sorrow."

The crossbows appeared like lightning in his hands, twirling, dropping, leveling. His voice lowered an octave, suddenly lethal.

"Now watch closely, or you'll miss the show entirely."

So saying, he vanished once again. And that was your cue.

"Now!"

Lae'zel leapt from the bushes with a roar that startled the bandits so badly that one of them promptly wet himself. Her sword carved a swathe through your hapless opponents, brushing off cuts and blows as if they were mere insect bites.

From the shadows, Astarion's gleeful shriek of laughter sounded.

"Mother, scold her! She isn't leaving any for me!"

Bolts carrying necrotic blasts and purple flame speared from every angle, miraculously bypassing your party to pierce the flesh of the bandits. One of them made a run for it, towards the entrance of the vault, only to have two explosive bolts fired directly into his buttocks.

"Naughty! No dine and dash allowed!"

Clutching at his backside, the unfortunate man screamed in agony as - well, imagination can fill in a fair few blanks.

The leader chose this moment to launch himself at Astarion, where he was now visible on a small incline above the camp.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

The greataxe came down on a shimmering illusion and Shadowheart smirked, waving away the remnants with a flat motion of her palm. The brawny man spun on his heel, eyes bulging, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Where are you?"

"Right here, sweetcheeks."

The words were a venomous hiss, the blades punching upwards, through the leader's ribcage with the speed of a striking cobra. Astarion slid away across the scorched earth, and came to a halt at Lae'zel's side, watching with dark satisfaction as the drow poison with which he'd coated his swords went to work.

Axe clattering to the ground, the captain of the bandits fell.

The stragglers who'd managed to survive this far either made a break for it, or surrendered in abject terror. You sheathed your blade. Honestly speaking, you'd barely had cause to use it.

Beside the fire, Lae'zel turned to Astarion with a sharp smile and slapped him rather hard across the shoulders.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Elf. I may just allow you to lick the sweat of battle from my skin after all."

"Oh, how delightful. I can hardly wait."

In spite of his grimace, you could see that Astarion was secretly pleased. He preened as Shadowheart complimented him on his crossbow skills and then his eyes turned hesitantly in your direction.

You cleared your throat.

"Well. Looks like Starblazer's made a name for himself."

"Oh Gods, you know I never agreed to be called that."

A smile curves your cheek, warm and genuine. Well, as much as it could be surrounded by present carnage.

"I think that we should leave the monikers up to the bards. After all, they'll be singing your story far and wide for years to come."

Astarion looked flustered, patting at his hair. The action seemed a little incongruous, considering that he'd almost single-handedly leveled an entire bandit base.

"You think so?"

"Yes. Now let's get back to camp. The vault can wait. We need to celebrate your ... considerable skills."

And thus the dark legend of Two Hand 'Starion, Master of Swift Death and Silent Sorrow, The Poison Tempest, Harbinger of the Sore Bottom, (and in some circles, Nasty Asty) was born.

Your own role in his much needed healing and self-discovery was not often spoken of, but that was something you didn't mind in the slightest. He remained at your side by his own choice, and that was all you really wanted.

The evolution of his skill was something you embraced fully. After all, change often comes like a bolt from the blue, or, in this case, with the roll of the dice in the hand of an unknown God.

58 notes · View notes

firstdivisiongirl · 8 months ago

Note

Can you do older sibling reader x younger ASL brothers

(When Ace and Sabo was 10 and Luffy was 7, reader is 2 years older than Ace so shes 12)

Can you do reader who puts others need infront of hers, espically with her brothers and her so called "family" (mountain bandits) so usually risking herself for her family (Ace wakes her head somtimes causing a bump on her head). for example, when luffy almost got eaten by a crocodile she litterly jumped into the water and pryed the crocodile mouth open.

Thank you and make sure to drink some water♡

Hey. These two requests were very similar so I decided to combine them and answer them together. I hope that ‘a okay. Please enjoy!

Platonic ASL Brothers with a Protective Older Sister

You were Ace, Sabo and Luffy’s older sworn sister.

By two years to be exact.

You were always protective of them and your family.

Like any good older sibling should

But you never did what you wanted.

You did everything for them.

With the money you got at Party’s, you spent it on them

Never you.

When someone got into trouble, you took care of it

You took watch at night in case someone came to attack

After a while of putting everyone else first and protecting everyone, you became somewhat emotionless and stoic.

No one liked this because they missed the version of you that would smile and enjoy life.

Out of all of the boys, you were closest with Ace because you two were both really protective

Sometimes he’d take watch with you

Luffy was the one that made you most nervous (you’d never show it though)

He was dumb and reckless. Enough said

Sabo was Sabo…

Even though everyone in your family told you to relax, you still wouldn’t

That was you

And they still loved you anyways

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

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dreamer-after-dark · 1 year ago

Note

I could see Wally Darling being the kind to sneak into your room/house when you're away and steal your panties/underwear. You figure that maybe the washing machine is eating them at first until a pair you were wearing yesterday disappeared from the top of the pile.

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

Side note, I have had my panties stolen before! Anyway, here you go ٭(•﹏•)٭

Part Two

Word count: 1,945

Wally is shameless.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

[Y/N]

It happened again.

[Julie]

What??

[Sally]

Panty thief struck again?

[Julie]

Twice in one week???

[Y/N]

It's not a thief! I refuse to believe it!

[Sally]

How many pairs does that make now? 12?

[Julie]

Close! 15!

[Y/N]

[Sally]

I fail to understand why this can't be the doing of a petty thief?

[Julie]

Y/N!

[Julie]

Y/N are you there?

[Julie]

Where did they go? :/

[Sally]

Alas, my darling Juliet! Tis I alone that remains here

[Wally]

Hello

[Sally]

Hi, Wally.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

Seventeen pairs of your best fitting panties have been lost, lost forever. Never to be found with the same elasticity or fit. You stared out into the empty street where the sun parted between leaves. You were too broke to afford replacing them and so you wandered this world commando when the pants offered enough coverage and comfort. Or even if it didn't you still had no choice should you plan around an inviting evening out.

With a huff you adjusted your basket against your hip, your unfolded clothes flopping a bit. The sunshower surprised you as it pelted against the non opening glass doors of the building's laundromat. After double checking the seats and dryer you headed for the opened door just off to the side. You entered a gray stairwell. Beneath the staircases was a collection of cleaning supplies, a yellow mop bucket, and a locked cabinet.

Your slippers echoed through the stairwell as you jogged up. The door to your floor was propped open with a rock. You used your free hand to open the door fully and slide the rock inside. You pushed it to the side with your foot not wanting anyone to trip over on it like you had. Your phone smacked your face leaving a nasty bruise under your eye. It still hurts to remember.

The door shut behind you with a rusty squeak. Your slippers slid lightly against the tiled floors until you made it to your apartment door. The handle gave way and you were thrilled to find it still open. Music boomed from somewhere within one of the rooms. The smell of weed wafted around mixing with the chilled air feeding in from the windows.

You inhaled deeply, shaking loose your worries. As you walked down your hallway you passed the open bathroom where giggling and hushed whispers could be heard. Julie and Sally were doing their makeup together, facetiming you assumed. Further was the kitchen where you heard the clinking of silverware against wood. The voices from the bathroom quieted.

Wally was stirring a cup of coffee when he spotted your annoyed expression, "Hello, Y/N. Are you alright?"

"Another pair off and vanished," you roll your eyes with a glance at your basket, "It's getting annoying."

"I can see how annoying that could get. Do you think they've all been stolen?"

"No! No. I'm sure it'll sort itself out. Have you got anymore coffee, Wally?"

Wally hands you the mug he was holding, "This one's yours, honeycrisp."

You thanked him as he turned away to prepare his own. His hair cascaded like waves down his back. The vibrant blue shining below the lights. Wally was amazing at coloring his hair. You turn away and head down the hallway where two doors faced each other. You entered the left one silently praying thanks to the great nothingness beyond for leaving it unlocked for you.

You placed your laundry on your bed. You would fold the clothes, but your keys needed to be found. You looked around your slightly cluttered room. The tapestry on your window was tied up letting in the sun. The smell of wet earth rose up as the rain thundered down. By the window was a desk. It was stained with paint and ink. On top was a journal, several colors of paint, and a large bottle of water. A mug with several drying paint brushes propped up within say atop the bookshelf.

Small plushies were scattered among the shelves and on the floor. Your bed was next to the wall by the door. The blanket was a pile on the floor next to the end of the bed. Larger plushies were squished from your tossing and turning. Pillows were crammed between the bed frame and wall. Eyes landing on your newly added laundry basket made you realize cleaning your entire room would help you find your missing keys.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜[Wally]

Hi, Sally.

Hi, Julie.

[Sally]

Wally, you wouldn't happen to know about the Boudoir Bandit?

[Wally]

No.

[Julie]

Maybe it's one of the other tenants!

[Sally]

Nefarious tenant!

[Y/N]

It has to be the machine

Can't be anything else

[Sally]

Perish the thought! The Panty Snatcher must be caught and brought to justice!

[Julie]

Perish the thought!

[Wally]

Perish the thought!

[Y/N]

Who could it be?

[Sally]

I see you've come around.

[Julie]

It could be anyone!

Any of us!!

How scary!!!

[Wally]

It could be anyone?

[Sally]

List of suspects:

Sally

Julie

Y/N

Poppy

Wally

Howdy

Barnaby

Home

[Y/N]

Me??

Why me??

[Julie]

It's a crazy world, Y/N!

We cannot rule out anyone!

Not even you

[Sally]

Julie is exactly right, darling Y/N! We simply cannot rule you out!

[Wally]

I would hate to see you go without, neighbor.

[Y/N]

Ok :/

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜

You smirked at the messages filling up your screen. Julie's energetic texts became shorter and you could imagine her hot pink nails tapping against the screen of her phone. Sally's text became increasingly verbose in response. Wally was lurking as he always did, chiming in here and there.

The phone slipped into your pocket as music filled the already tidied room. Your keys had been found while sweeping underneath your desk. Along with a few scrunchies and a button, your heavily outfitted keys were dragged out. With such a clunky set up you wondered how you ever lose it to begin with. Work keys, house keys, anime characters, pepper spray, and a stuffed animal. All of it designed to be eye-catching and hard to lose.

You flopped onto your bed opting for rest. Your ultimate goal had been completed and you were horribly drained. Your mind drifted back to the mounting loss of your panty collection. Solid color boxers, high waisted panties, boy shorts, thongs, sick day panties. All of it is gone! Sally was right to call it nefarious, but believing that you were being specifically targeted was a level of fear you wanted to avoid. You turned off your notifications for the next hour and returned to cleaning up.

Soon your room was clean, your clothes put away, and the bathroom was finally open. The glow of the full moon was bright and brilliant tonight. Leaving your desk you grabbed a change of clothes, sans panties, and a towel. You stripped down leaving all of your clothes inside the now empty basket. Stepping out you noticed the room across from you was quiet. There was a note taped to the door reading:

Out for the next three days! Rent is on the table!

Sally and Julie were heading out to New York for a concert. All the more to enjoy a long, luxurious shower. Wally was in the room down the opposite hall. His room was the only one on that side. He had the biggest room in the apartment for all of his art equipment. Aside from his bed you couldn't tell it was his bedroom. The last you had been inside it was filled with disturbing personal works. Each one felt delicate and haunting. Completely unlike his pleasant and sweet demeanor.

The music was still going though not as loud. It was mellow and dragging. You could hear the bubbling of his bong. The sound made your heart race. You quickly stepped into the bathroom. The thick glass ceiling above always excites you. It was such a crummy apartment, but it had its ups with this being one of them.

Julie's stickers covered the thick sides of her movable mirror. Her makeup bag was left open covered in eye shadow dust and glitter. A pack of eyelashes were left open on the top of the bag.

A little smudged message was left on the mirror written in red lipstick, reading:

You're beautiful, starshine!

Julie was a sweetheart. The rain had stopped, leaving a silence in the tall bathroom. With a turn of the faucet cold water rushed out from the shower head. The patter of water against ceramic filled the room. You stepped under the stream shivering as the droplets thudded against your skin.

Stepping out from the shower you dried yourself off and slipped into your change of clothes. You felt rejuvenated! As you stepped out of the bathroom, a voice called for you.

"Hi, Y/N. Would you like a snack?" Wally was standing in the kitchen with reddened eyes.

"What are you having?" You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"A cut up apple. I couldn't think of anything better," he giggled, "I have a few extra?"

You accept the offered apples, "Thanks. I'm sure I forgot to eat with all the other things I also forgot."

"I'm sorry that's happening, it must be tough. Julie did say you were left without much to wear."

You groaned imagining Julie explaining things in detail as she usually would, "I'd rather not make it into a thing. It's just so weird to even consider what they're saying."

"I have a pack of unopened boxers. They may not fit perfectly, but they should help?" He smiled completely at ease.

"That's.. Ok. I couldn't accept that." As weird as it was to have your underwear stolen, Wally offering you some was even weirder.

"Oh, Ok. I'll hold it until you're ready." Wally walked off into his room leaving you in the kitchen.

You heaved a sigh as you leaned against the counter. The apple slices crunched as you bit into it. Each one refreshing and cold. You rinsed the plate in the sink and switched off the lights. You returned to your room, but stopped just short of the door.

It was cracked open. You were sure the door shut behind you when you stepped out. With a gentle push you opened the door further. When seeing nothing out of place you stepped in and shut the door behind you listening for that click of metal against wood. When you heard it you let go of the doorknob and hung up your towel to dry.

You looked around your room again looking over every little detail. The still tidy room was just as you left it. Plushies put away, paints organized, bed made, and the floor clean. Your eyes glanced over the basket on the floor and your heart skipped. Your head swiveled back as your eyes scanned it once more. Leaning down you picked at the shirt and pants shaking them out. A pair of socks fell from the pant leg, but nothing else. With dread it dawned on you. The panties you had worn not even an hour ago were missing.

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

[Y/N]

Wally

[Wally]

Yes?

[Y/N]

Where are they?

[Wally]

Where is what?

[Y/N]

My panties

[Wally]

Stolen, I presume?

[Y/N]

By you

Where are they?

[Wally]

You're welcome to check my room, Y/N

Do you want to come in?

👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁👁

You heard the music dip low in the furthest room. You heard the door click as the knob turned. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him chuckle from deep within his room.

#playfellowxxx #wally darling #wally darling playfellowxxx #yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x you #wally darling x self insert #wally darling x gn reader #x yn #x gender neutral reader #x reader #boudoir bandit #panty snatcher #creepy wally darling #cuddles and conversations #wetdreams #panty snatcher wally darling #panty snatcher au

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snakes-writing-corner · 1 year ago

Text

Recently been obsessed with Undertale Yellow, and I am very much in love with a certain star cowboy. Long story short I need to get this idea out of my head before I forget.

Hear me out.

North Star x Bandit Reader

————————

You heard about this little town growing in popularity in the Wild East. A little place in the Dunes where monsters can get a taste of the surface, with some interesting characters to make the area more appealing.

The main attraction, of course, being “The Feisty Five” as they call themselves. Just a group of human-interested friends wanting to have a little fun, and bring hope to the other monsters trapped in this hellhole.

The Feisty Five are indeed… an interesting group. Not particularly threatening, but a good group to hang around with if you’re looking to have some fun. Most you’d have to look out for is Mooch, who ironically, has a nasty stealing habit.

Oh but what caught your eye the most? The self-proclaimed sheriff of the Wild East.

“North Star” is the name he goes by, and boy is he quite the charmer!

Initially you came by the Wild East looking for a bit of excitement. A place where you could have a bit of fun and mess with the residents before moving along to the next unfortunate destination.

Oh but this? This was a lot more fun than you ever thought it would be!

The Feisty Five despite being the “protectors” of this town were, quite frankly, terrible at the protecting part. Just a gaggle of monsters living out some sort of human-based fantasy.

Unfortunately for them, you had a streak of causing trouble wherever you went, and to this day you’d never been caught for it.

Living in the underground got… boring after a while. Everyone living in a zombie-like state of hopelessness and despair was a bit too… depressing for your taste.

Call it morally wrong, but you wanted monsters to feel, well, anything! So you resorted to becoming a… well North Star would call it a “bandit” if he knew.

During what monsters considered night-time, you’d don on your trusty cloak and mask and cause a bit of mischief. Breaking and entering, stealing, blowing things up, occasionally scaring any poor monster who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? All were fair game to you!

You weren’t a completely terrible monster however! Any damages caused would end with the owner of the property mysteriously ending up with the gold to fix it, and stolen items would always be returned by the next night. It was simply just to stir up a bit of chaos and have some fun! That and it got monsters feeling something other than hopelessness!

Which leads us to the situation at hand.

You started living in the Wild East for a little while. A few months at least, getting time to know the locals so when the chaos ensued… well you wouldn’t necessarily get blamed if the town trusted you right?

In that time you grew a bond with the Feisty Five. Honestly who wouldn’t! They all had their quirks that made them fun to be around!

Ed despite being the muscle of the group had a heart of gold, and was very fun to mess around with. You still remember his face when you snuck that little fizzy tablet into his drink, and it exploded all over his face. His reaction was priceless!

Moray was always a chill monster to be around. You enjoyed how you two seemed to be able to talk about anything, and admired their skills with a sword. Truthfully, you had a bit too much respect for them to pull a prank… yet.

Ace was a mysterious fellow, the most quiet out of the four for sure. You two never talked much, but you quite enjoyed the card game he used to offer you. Keyword on “used to”, he stopped doing that after you won one too many times. You got revenge about a month after that with an unfortunate loose floorboard in the saloon.

Mooch was a lot like you actually, mischievous and a pretty good thief at that! You quite like her and can’t wait for the day you can steal all the gold she’s taken from you back. Friendly competition and all that, but stealing it now would blow your cover so you wait. In the meantime some harmless pranks from time to time that can’t be traced back to you will do.

Oh and now for your favorite member of this rag-tag gang, the sheriff himself! North Star was definitely a fun guy to be around! Matched your dramatic flair almost too well honestly! His hero act was always one you enjoyed feeding into, especially considering what you had planned.

Oh right! That little plan of yours is exactly why you’ve stuck around the Wild East for so long!

You see, North Star wanted to play the dashing hero, but you can’t be a hero without a worthy adversary to face can you?

Sure the town had Vengeful Virgil, but honestly? He’s not a threat at all! There’s no stakes or genuine mystery with him! And quite frankly you’ve started to hate the staged performances.

No twists or turns? No drama or unplanned hang-ups? No no no! That won’t do for your new favorite group of monsters! I mean you’re hiding right under their gazes in plain sight! A well trained “bandit” who’s actually willing to cause actual chaos around here!

Which led to where you’re currently stationed. Mask and cloak obscuring your true identity within the night, you press a simple little button.

*BOOM*

You smirked from your position on top of the saloon. You see earlier you had planted some little explosives around town. Not in any spots that would hurt someone, but enough to give everyone in town a scare.

You chuckled as you heard screaming and panic envelop the town. Monsters like many times before running around terrified like mice. It was always fun to watch!

A shout rang out above the others however.

“Alright settle down everyone!”

Ah there he was… North Star.

You climbed down the roof of the saloon as you quietly hid behind it and watched.

The Feisty Four we’re running around under North Star’s orders, checking to see if any damage or harm had been done, while North Star tried to calm down the increasing crowd of monsters in a panic.

You watched a little longer.

Then North Star looked up at you.

Oh this was going to be fun.

“Stop where you are!” North Star shouted.

You smiled under the mask and made a run for it, the sheriff hot on your heels trying to get you to stop.

Oh but sheriff, the chase is half the fun no?

You continued to run, but quickly dug your heels to the ground and stopped to face your pursuer.

North Star managed to stop fairly quickly in return, and you two were suddenly at the end of a cliff in a stare down.

The sheriff lifted his gun and took aim.

You tilted your head in return, purposefully deepening your voice like you’ve done so many times before.

“Aw did the sheriff not like my welcoming gift?”

North Star glared. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you made a mistake coming into this town,”

“Bandit.” He spat with venom in his voice.

You chuckled, as you took a step closer.

“Oh but North Star,”

The sheriff’s gaze grew more sharp the more steps you took forward, you stopped mere inches away from him and the barrel of his gun.

“I don’t think I did.”

North Star fired.

No bullet came out of the barrel, a result of the tampering you did earlier to prepare for this moment.

You took the opportunity to rush forward and grab the taller monster by his bandana, and seize the wrist holding the gun in his mere moments of shock.

You stood there locked in place for a few seconds. Tilting your head to the side, you watched as the sheriff seemed to be caught between emotions of his facade and what lay underneath. After all, you can always break an actor if you try hard enough.

You chuckled and broke the silence between the two of you.

“What-” North Star started, but you cut him off.

“Tell me sheriff,” You tighten your grip on his wrist. “What do you think I want hm?”

You leaned closer towards his face.

“Money? Recognition? To simply hurt others?”

North Star stiffened.

“No.” You loosened the grip on his wrist.

“You and I both are not so different ya know?” You continued. “We’re both acting to bring some life into this hell of a place.”

You let go of him completely and take a few steps back.

“We just do it for our own personal reasons right?”

North Star glared you down.

“I’m nothing like you.” He spat.

You shrugged in response.

“Maybe not, sheriff.”

You back closer to the edge of the cliff.

“But…”

You stop right at the edge as North Star aims his gun at you yet again.

“You’ve always wanted to play hero right?” You ask.

North Star continues to glare you down. “I don’t want to hear it, bandit.”

“This is your last warning.” He whips out his lasso in his free hand. “Surrender now.”

You smirk, purposefully ignoring him.

“Well sheriff. You have your villain.”

You step off of the cliff as you see the lasso at the edge of your vision.

————————

Where?

Starlo ran over to the cliff-edge, kneeling down to look over the edge.

Where did they?

He frantically looked for the bandit, but they were gone without a trance.

Starlo huffed in annoyance, too many thoughts running through his head.

Would they actually kill someone?

Why was this monster so intent on this?

He never wanted this! This was just supposed to be for fun! He didn’t want to endanger anyone!

Starlo started internally panicking. The thought of- of this monster hurting anyone here. Would they do it? They wouldn’t right? They talked about acting so surely they wouldn’t-

The sound of paper caught his attention.

He looked down on saw a piece of paper tucked neatly into his bandana.

When did they have time to put that there?

With trembling hands he opened it.

“Howdy North Star,

Glad we finally got to meet face to face. I’ve been dying to see your reaction to when I finally make a move.

But don’t worry, I won’t hurt anyone. At least not yet.

You see I’m a bit of an actor myself, and any good actor should know you can’t have a hero without a proper villain.

So I’ll give you a warning. A heads up if you will.

I won’t hurt anyone in any truly damaging way. Unless things get boring that is, but I highly doubt that’ll happen with how entertaining you and your crew are.

I think this town needs a bit of chaos. And lucky me that you just so happened to imply you wanted a challenge when I showed up!

So tell you what. Let’s have some fun with a little game of cat and mouse. I’ll cause some trouble and you can play the charming hero as always. Besides I’m sure even you’ve grown tired of the same boring routine every day.

See if you can be the first to actually catch me sheriff. I’ll be waiting to see if you can pull it off. :)

-With hope for future fun encounters, Anarchy”

Starlo stared at the letter for much longer than he should have.

Well…

If this bandit wanted to mess around with his town?

They’ll have sure as hell a tough time doing so from now on.

#my writing #undertale yellow #undertale yellow north star #undertale yellow starlo #undertale yellow x reader #ut yellow #north star uty #starlo uty #starlo x reader #uty feisty five #uty north star #uty starlo #oh no new comfort character incoming #had an epiphany in the car before work and this happened #sheriff and bandit dynamic my beloved #reader over here being silly #love the idea of reader being this sweet fun—loving person in the day and an advocate for chaos at night #oh starlo you’re in for a wild ride now

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

Note

I just listened to Big Iron by Marty Robbins for the first time and now I miss your outlaws :( I hc that they have a dog and give their horses funny names

That's so cute tho- Those sneaky fucks would use the dog as leverage to get their sheriff's attention. They have to remember to keep their praises to themselves when the sheriff shows their softer side while interacting with the pet. If this is following that one idea where everyone including Sheriff Darling were once orphans - maybe the dog was like the group pet until Sheriff left to join the force-

"C'mon, Sheriff. Just a quick stop by? Promise there won't be any funny business this time it's just- the old boy really miss you-"

"You all don't keep an eye on him, do you? He's been waddling his way across down to my doorstep almost every evening. Got a bed set up for him and everything by now."

"He has a spot in your room and we don't? That stings, Sheriff"

"He isn't not the group tying me to beds while they run every deputy out of town- Knows how to behavior better than they do too."

"Well gosh, Sheriff. Hope breaking our hearts is a thrilling hobby for ya."

#yandere bandit #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios

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fiftysevem · 1 year ago

Text

someone make a drabble of @/fishkoi_artstv (on tiktoks) bandit and m!reader 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

to scared to request/hj

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

Text

cowboy!graves;

"do you take that hat off for anything?"

"one thing."

"oh." ... "take your hat off."

#cowboy!graves #based off a scene in smokey and the bandit lmao #leave me alone #graves x reader #phillip graves #graves x you #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves cod #phillip graves smut #shadow company

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chubbyreaderchan · 2 years ago

Text

Okay but imagine cuddling up to your fav like this. ❤️

#Inuyasha x reader #reader insert #marvel x reader #slashers x reader #billy hargrove x reader #spike x reader #one piece x reader #naruto x reader #eddie munson x reader #fluffy #bluey #chili and bandit #head canons soon #i swear

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garfields-nutz · 2 years ago

Text

I’m a Rainbow 6 Siege fan so here are my fave memes (i made the last 5)

#rainbow six x reader #rainbow six siege #rainbow 6 siege #rsix #rainbow six memes #r6 tachanka #R6 bandit #R6 mozzie #R6 Jäger #R6 fuze #r6 kapkan #r6 glaz

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aparticularbandit · 1 year ago

Note

Idk if you write yandere but if it is okay. Maybe yandere Claire and reader

Thank u

Rating: M for mature themes.

IDK if this is what you wanted, Nonnie, but I tried.

You first ran into Claire Debella during your junior year of college. Every now and again, a guest speaker would be called on for one of the upper level classes, and you'd come into college with a bunch of early credits, putting you well in range to take that class, even though you shouldn't have been able to take it until senior year. You'd thought, well, it would be nice to hear from people in the actual field more often than not and had set yourself up to take it once your junior year and once your senior year - perhaps more, if you could get your credits to align.

Claire was the first speaker, a Democrat from Connecticut on the campaign trail, stopping to encourage the next generation. To vote, primarily. Especially to vote for her.

Halfway through her speech, she asked a question, something tricky, and while she didn't call on you first, you were the one who had the correct answer. You'd seen it in her eyes then, the glimmer of approval followed by the gentle lift of her lips in the barest hint of a smile that she'd all too quickly suppressed as she continued speaking.

Afterwards, Claire stopped you. "No other student has ever answered that correctly."

"It wasn't hard," you said without thinking. "It follows logic and the patterns of the masses. Any intelligent person should have been able to come up with the answer." You smirked. "Eventually."

Claire gave you a look that you didn't notice and then one that you did, her arms crossing under her chest. "I have an opening on my team."

You glanced up at her. "An internship?"

"Paid."

Your brows raised.

"Experience on the campaign trail will do wonders for you," Claire continued, looking away from you. Or, as you realize later, pretending to do so, not wanting you to catch her at it.

You considered it. You wanted it. But--

"I can't," you said and hating yourself for saying it. "I can't miss that much school--"

"A mentorship, then." Claire's eyes flicked over to you, and as soon as you noticed her gaze, they trailed up to meet your eyes. "Zoom meetings on the trail, in person afterwards. How does that sound?"

You could arrange for that. You could make time. It would help you tremendously in the future, when you started looking for jobs after college, to say you'd been mentored by someone like Claire. Perhaps she would have that opening again next summer and you could be an intern then--

Then you gave her a slight nod. "Sounds good to me."

Claire smiled then, but you didn't notice the darkness in it until much later. "Any intelligent person would have come to that answer eventually." She met your eyes again hungrily. "We'll talk soon."

Claire had seemed like a normal mentor. Even more than that, she'd seemed normal over that summer when you did intern for her - and she paid you well above minimum wage, well above maybe what you should have been paid - but that hadn't seemed bad. Or wrong.

Sure, she'd never approved of any of your dates, and usually they broke up with you very, very shortly after being alone with her, but you never put two and two together until later.

Not until after you graduated.

Not until after she gave you a real job.

It's an event that maybe you shouldn't have been at.

No, you definitely shouldn't have been there, but Claire invited you. Said you were the best assistant she'd ever had and you deserved to go, so you had. Dressed your best, but still not quite enough to fit in with the other elites around you.

Claire rubbed shoulders with a lot of people given her influence, got invited to a lot of parties. This is just one of them - a birthday party for the not entirely well-esteemed Birdie Jay. Claire assured you she was just an old friend, but you're still not sure.

Still. Standing here among models and fashion elites, you feel...out of place. Like you shouldn't be here.

And it doesn't make you feel any better that Claire is conspicuously not paying you any attention. It's like...like she invited you, but she....

Maybe she hadn't really expected you to come.

So you end up at the open bar, drinking a little too much, feeling like Cinderella might have felt at the ball if she'd stayed past midnight, until one of Claire's other old friends - Jen Barkley, who you'd spent plenty of time with during your internship and who had frequently interrupted your Zoom meetings. Not always with very good reasons.

....

Actually, never with good reason.

If you're honest with yourself, you don't like Jen. But you're drunk, and she's...not quite drunk, actually, but close enough, and if you look at her in just the right light, she almost looks like Claire.

(You will never tell anyone that you find Claire attractive. At least not again. Your old roommate did not approve of your crush. You don't know what happened to her either. She just stopped talking to you after graduation. Which is odd because you'd thought you were really good friends.)

Which is how you end up in one of the hallways off of the main room with Jen's tongue down your throat, and to be honest, she's not that great of a kisser, but she's warm and she's there and you're definitely more than a little bit drunk and--

All of a sudden, Jen stops. You think about asking her why, but then you see the hand on her shoulder and Claire standing behind her with daggers for eyes. It doesn't matter that you're drunk; you swallow hard and find yourself saying, "Sorry, sorry, we shouldn't have," in a slur, avoiding Claire's eyes.

Claire's hand tenses on Jen's shoulder. "Jen, can I talk to you for a minute?" She guides Jen away from you, offers you something that looks halfway between a smile and halfway between bared teeth, and then says, "You should go on home. Drunk isn't a good look on you."

You bite your lower lip and nod.

Except.

You want to apologize to Claire again. You want to know that she isn't going to fire you for being so unprofessional. This might not be a professional event, but Claire invited you, and if you made her look bad, then....

This is why you don't drink at these sorts of things.

So you wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

And then people start leaving but Claire hasn't shown up again, and you're pretty certain that people can't leave down the hallway where you'd been with Jen, so Claire should be coming back this way. Or should have. And hasn't. Isn't.

Claire's your boss. You should probably go check and make sure she's okay. Not that Jen would do anything to her. Ew, gross, wait, maybe they're together and that's why Jen kept barging in on your Zoom streams while Claire was campaigning. Maybe Claire was mad at Jen because she shouldn't have been making out with you, she should have been with Claire--

All of this you think while you walk down the hallway, checking out every door you find, and then you think you see Claire, so you push open the door and--

Oh.

"Claire?"

The room is dark, but you can tell that she's covered in something red and wet and shining, and you're drunk and really hope that isn't blood.

You also hope that isn't a body on the floor in front of her. Really hope that isn't Jen.

Claire turns to you. "You...weren't supposed to see this."

Suddenly, your heart starts beating faster. Claire just killed someone. Claire just killed someone and you walked in on it. Claire is going to kill you.

But before you can make it to the door, Claire is there, a hand on your wrist, and when you open your mouth to scream, she kisses you instead. You still scream, at first, but she muffles you, and then you kind of forget that you're supposed to be screaming because for all that Jen was a bad kisser, Claire is. well. wow. Before you know it, you're kissing her back, and then your hand is in her hair, and then her hair is sticky because blood, and then you're screaming again, but it doesn't last as long this time.

Claire parts just enough to say, "I'm not going to hurt you," and you hate it, but you're drunk, and you believe her. But that doesn't stop your heart from beating fast in your chest. She glares over her shoulder at the body. "Jen knew better than to touch you."

You should ask.

You swallow hard.

You don't ask.

#musings #bandit fic #bandit answers questions #anonymous #glass onion #claire debella #claire debella x reader #jen barkley #jennifer barkley #parks and rec

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