Writing Notes: Character Development
Rick Riordan's Writing Tips
Rick Riordan:
Character development is paramount for me. I firmly believe that plot and character development must occur simultaneously. Plot cannot be left to chance. Neither can characters be automatons who carry out actions envisioned in the author's master plan. Below are some things I try to keep in mind when developing my characters:
RICK RIORDAN'S TOP 5 TIPS ON CHARACTER
Define a character first through action, second through dialog and description, never through explanation.
A character should be primarily defined by the choices he makes, and the actions he takes.
How does he respond to violence?
How does he respond to love?
Secondly, a character must be vividly but deftly describe through his speech, and through the initial view you give the reader.
Never stop to explain who a character is when we can watch him in action and decide for ourselves.
Be impressionist rather than realistic.
Describe characters as Dickens did – with a single deft stroke.
A laundry list of physical traits is realistic, but it is neither memorable nor compelling.
A jarring metaphor for the character, or a focus on one mannerism or physical trait, can be very compelling.
Example: She was a human tornado.
Do not be afraid to use real people as models, but do not be constricted by your models.
It is very natural to use parts of ourselves or the people we know when creating characters.
Do not be afraid to do this because someone might get mad at you.
At the same time, let your character develop.
Do not force them to do what the real-life model would do.
Characters seldom end up exactly like the real people they are based on.
The reader does not have to be told everything you know about the character.
It may be critically important to you that your character has blue eyes, or went to Texas A&M.
But if these details have no part in the story, the reader will not care.
Leave them in your subconscious.
If you are having trouble figuring out a character, fill out a character profile, or do some journaling in that character's voice.
Your character must act, not simply be acted upon.
We care about characters because we are interested in the choices they make.
We want to boo the villain, cheer the hero, and cry with frustration when the tragic figure makes the wrong move.
A character who does not act, but simply receives information and is acted upon by outside forces, is not a character who will compel the reader.
Remember, plot is what the characters do next.
If the characters do not create the plot, the plot is hollow.
Here's a character profile worksheet I sometimes fill out if I'm having trouble understanding a particular character I've created:
Character Profile
Name:
Height:
Age in story:
Birthplace:
Hair color, length, style:
Race/nationality:
Regional influences:
Accent: (include voice, style of speech, slang, signature phrases or words)
Religion:
Marital status:
Scars or other notable physical attributes:
Handicaps: (emotional, physical, mental)
Athletic? Inactive? Overall health?
Style of dress:
Favorite colors:
How does the character feel about his/her appearance?
Brothers/sisters:
Relationship with parents:
Memories about childhood:
Educational background: (street smart? Formal? Does he/she read?)
Work experience:
Occupation:
Where does the character live now? Describe home (emotional atmosphere as well as physical)
Neat or messy?
Sexual preferences/morals/activities:
Women friends/men friends:
Pets?
Enemies? Why?
Basic nature:
Personality traits (shy, outgoing, domineering, doormat, honest, kind, sense of humor):
Strongest trait:
Weakest trait:
What does the character fear?
What is the character proud of?
What is the character ashamed of?
Outlook on life (optimistic, pessimistic, cynic, idealist)
Ambitions:
Politics:
How does the character see himself/herself?
How is the character seen by others?
Do you like this person? Why or why not?
Will readers like or dislike?
Most important thing to know about this character:
Present problem:
How it will get worse:
What is the character's goal in the story?
What traits will help/hurt the character in achieving this goal?
What makes the character different from similar characters?
Why will readers remember this character vividly?
Source
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nobody compares to you
chapter 6
pairing: ellie x reader
synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?
content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, messy lesbian relationships/situationships, loser!ellie makes an appearance for 0.5 seconds, brief and indirection mention of marijuana, mentions of death, brief mention of reader's genitals (implies that reader has a vagina, but if you headcanon reader as a trans girl w/a penis, just pretend it's a metaphorical vagina, i fully encourage it), sexual speech and content (not fully smut but there are drops of it), depictions of nudity, minors do not interact
word count: 4.6k
chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen
series masterlist
my masterlist
i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎
the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist
Abigail Anderson. Pre-med student. Rugby star. A brief hook-up from freshman year.
And now approaching your frozen figure at a rather fast pace.
As your shocked face emerges from behind the football you're still holding in your hands, Abby begins to register who it was that she’d almost killed via pigskin.
“Oh, shit!” She murmurs your name as her jog comes to a stop at your feet. “I’m so sorry, my friend Jordan was being a dick. I meant to catch that.”
You let out a nervous chuckle as your trembling fingers lift the football up to her.
“Oh, it’s okay. My life definitely flashed before my eyes, but I’m alright otherwise.” You give her a smile.
She returns it with a crooked one of her own, her fingers softly brushing against yours as she takes the football from you.
“Well, you still look alive and pretty,” Abby says, tucking the ball underneath an arm. “And those were some impressive reflexes, I gotta say.”
“Just practicing in case of a zombie apocalypse.” You joke, cheeks burning ever so slightly at her calling you pretty. “We can’t all be built like Themysciran Amazons the way you are.”
“Themy-what?” Abby asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and chuckling.
Your face erupts in flames in embarrassment from your geeky comic book reference.
“Y-you know,” You stammer. “Like Wonder Woman. She’s from that island where it’s only women and they’re all these gorgeous, buff warriors who’ve renounced men.”
Abby laugh.
“Really? Well, thank you. You’re very cute for thinking I’m some hot warrior chick who’ll survive a zombie apocalypse.”
Before you can respond, she continues.
“How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around much.”
“Hey, I’ve been around.” You lie. You really haven’t been. “Probably haven’t noticed being an aspiring doctor and all.”
“Still remember that, huh?” She smiles.
“Of course.” You say, returning her smile.
Freshman Year, Fall
You met Abby Anderson at the beginning of your freshman year when she was a sophomore.
Being in a new and independent environment, you did what many single freshmen do upon first arriving: scoured the dating apps.
Fresh out of a messy high school relationship, you came to college a little raw and emotionally vulnerable. You jumped into a casual relationship with a girl named Adriana within the first month of arriving on campus. After a drunken night of you and your roommate Tara recklessly swiping through your profile on a dating app, you somehow and hesitantly found yourself with a girlfriend after just two dates.
The best word you would use to describe Adriana was nice. She was a pleasant person: brought you out on cute dates, paid for your food, always held your hand. You spent the two weeks of dating her trying to convince yourself that you were as into her as she was into you. But the further you tried to force attraction for her, the less interested you became. Then she introduced you to her friend, Abby Anderson.
Abby was the kind of person that closeted gay girls would develop their first gay crush on at their initial glance. She was bold and exuded a sense of confidence & charisma that most 20-somethings haven’t achieved yet. People knew who she was when she walked around campus, whether personally or through reputation. Abby made friends quickly and kept them easily, so it was no shock that you got along very well with her when Adriana first introduced you.
You pretended at the time not to notice the way Abby looked you up and down when first laying eyes on you. It was a quick glance and she pulled it off well enough that nobody else but you had caught it. You were amused by the way that Abby had held out her hand to you upon meeting. None of Adriana’s other friends had offered a handshake, and you chuckled quietly as you introduced yourself to her.
Is she for real? A little prim and proper, you’d thought. You’d later find out it was merely her excuse to initiate physical contact.
You’d originally come over to Adriana’s dorm to meet her friends, but you’d spent most of the time talking with Abby. She was very charming, keeping you engaged in conversation as if she’d known you for months already. She would ask you questions about yourself, seeming to be genuinely interested in your responses. It was effortless to keep up a banter with her, and she had you laughing in a way Adriana hadn’t been able to elicit from you herself. You weren’t fawning over Abby the way newly-discovered gays constantly were, but you were intrigued. By the end of the hang-out, you’d already exchanged numbers and socials.
When Adriana amicably broke up with you a week later, saying that she felt as if “your heart didn’t seem quite into this” and “she’d like to see you comfortable” and “we honestly seem like we would vibe better as friends” over a phone call, you’d felt a wave of relief followed by a pang of guilt. You could tell that Adriana really didn’t feel any ill will towards you, but it did feel indecent that all you got out of the relationship was a mended heart as a result of the rebound. That, and a very interested Abby Anderson.
It didn’t take a week since your split from Adriana that Abby was flirtatiously commenting under your Instagram posts or sending you at least ten snaps on Snapchat daily or messaging you borderline thirst traps accompanied by texts that were asking for your “opinion on her gym progress.” It was a mere five days since the break-up that you were dolling yourself up a bit to go hang out with Abby in her dorm room, just the two of you.
Most of your friends playfully teased you about the position you’d placed yourself in. Hooking up with a recent ex’s friend seemed messy, but they encouraged you to put yourself out there all the same. Never having actually gone all the way with Adriana, they all hyped you up to hook up with Abby. All but one.
“You’re judging me!” You said, lightly smacking Ellie’s arm.
She chuckled, rolling her eyes at you.
“I literally didn’t say anything, dude.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” You returned her eye roll with your own before jumping off your bed to walk towards your closet.
“Just sounds like a guilty conscience to me.” She shrugged, leaning back onto your headboard.
You sighed and said, “Should I feel guilty, though?”
Ellie shrugged again nonchalantly before saying, “Not gonna tell you how to feel.”
“I just want to know your opinion!”
“It’s your love life, dude. It’s up to you, not me.”
“I know that! But what do you think I should do?”
“Make your own decisions.” She chuckled once more.
You groaned, turning away from her to continue rifling through your closet.
“You’re so fucking useless.” You complained, fingers weaving between hangers as you tried to select an outfit to see Abby later that day.
“What can I say? It’s a gift.” Ellie replied, resting the palms of her hands on the back of her head as she watched you.
Despite yourself, you giggled quietly. As you continued to browse through your wardrobe, you felt Ellie’s ocean green eyes trailing your every movement. You kept your back turned to her, hiding the flames tickling your cheeks.
You hadn’t bothered the rest of your friends about this the way you did Ellie. They’d all given their blessing for you to sleep with Abby, but Ellie? Ellie was persistent in remaining mysteriously neutral. She refused to voice any kind of personal bias. She didn’t seem disinterested, but she also withheld offering up her genuine opinion on your Abby situation. And for some reason, this bothered you. Something about her unhelpfulness compelled you to pester her about it. You knew you didn’t need Ellie’s approval. So why did it feel like you did?
Ellie watched as you picked out a short dark blue dress, spreading it out on your bed next to her. She listened to you question yourself out loud on whether you should wear fishnet stockings underneath it or just go bare. She felt the way your fingers lingered when brushing softly against hers after she handed you your silver hoop earrings laying next to her on your bedside table. She inhaled your signature lavender scent as you slowly caressed your arms and legs up and down while applying your favourite lotion.
It felt so strange, prettying yourself up for another girl while Ellie sat on your bed and watched. She and you were just friends. You’ve never been anything more than that. Why did it feel strange, then?
Are we though? Just friends?
The way you’d stare at the way her big, calloused hands moved when she’d be rolling a joint or etching in her journal. The way she observed the exact manner your lips moved every time you spoke or laughed. The way you always noticed when she’d trace that intricate arm tattoo of hers when she’d get lost in thought. The way she watched exactly how your smile would often meet your soft eyes.
Is this just friendship?
Ellie observed as you sat at your desk and carefully began applying your makeup, scooting towards the foot of your bed to better marvel at your technique. She’d begun to learn the routine you had by heart, mesmerized by how carefully and naturally your hands moved in a creative dance. She blurted out a compliment about how you were an artist for the way you did your makeup. You attempted to brush it off, but she insisted. You’re the artist here, she’d said.
After finishing applying a shade of dark red lipstick, you gave yourself one last satisfied look in your mirror. You got up and began to shake your hair out of the bun it was in, walking to the foot of your bed where both your dress and Ellie waited. You looked at your chosen attire for the night and were suddenly hit with a predicament.
“Umm, Ellie?”
“What’s up, man?”
“D-do you think you could help me with something?”
“Uh… sure?”
Your fingers fiddled with the bottom of your t-shirt. Your face flushed for what felt like the millionth time today.
“C-can you help me put my dress on?”
Ellie looked like someone dumped a bucket of ice-cold water right over her head.
“What?”
You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you’d picked up from her.
“I forgot how t-tight this dress is, and I might fuck up my makeup if I just pull it on myself. Can you help me g-get it on?”
Ellie’s face remained unreadable as she looked you up and down.
“Yeah, okay.” She said finally.
“T-thanks.” You said, nervously biting the inside of your cheek.
Normal friends do not get nervous when they ask their friends to help them get dressed.
“Just…just one second.” You said, meekly holding a finger up before turning your back to her.
As you profusely thanked past you for already putting on your desired underwear for tonight, you carefully peeled off your t-shirt and threw it to the side. Though you had your back to her, you could feel Ellie’s gaze land on the black lace bra you’d decided on earlier. When you shed your pajama shorts, her eyes then drifted onto the matching black lace panties that left very little to the imagination.
She quickly averted her stare as you turned to face her, not fully meeting each other’s eyes.
“Do you think you could—?” You gestured to your dress next to her on the bed.
“Yeah.” She said, picking it up before approaching you.
You watched her face as she lifted the dress above your head. Her tense fingers gripped the collar tightly as you raised your arms. You felt goosebumps form where her hands inadvertently brushed against your skin, lowering the dress onto your figure. As you fit your head and arms through, she pulled the dress all the way down to your thighs. You tugged your hair out from the collar and let it fall behind you when your eyes met hers.
“Uhh,” She said awkwardly. “Your lipstick…”
Your right hand flew up to your mouth.
“Oh shit, did it smudge—?”
“Yeah, a little, but it’s okay, I got it.”
“Wh—“
Before you could react any further, Ellie licked her thumb and brought it to the edge of your bottom lip. It was as though your entire body was set on fire the exact second that you felt the wetness from her finger meet the corner of your mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed as she rubbed off the small streaks of smeared lipstick. You could have sworn she could hear how loud your heart was beating in the moment, feel the way it echoed through your entire body. You felt your mouth water as your eyes fell on her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. Someone could easily sneak into your room right now and rob you blind, the way you both remained completely encaptured in this moment.
“There,” Ellie whispered. “Got it.”
Her thumb slowly drifted from your lip to your cheek, her hand suddenly caressing your face. You were frozen in place, trying not to combust as every cell in your body danced fervently. Her ocean green irises kept darting back and forth between your eyes and your crimson lips. Both your mouths were parted, the unsaid at the tip of both your tongues, waiting for whoever was bravest to let the truth drip out.
But instead, after what felt like twenty-five years, Ellie let her hand drop from your face back to her side. She swallowed and cleared her throat, breaking eye contact with you to stare at the floor. You blinked and gulped, quickly plummeting back to reality.
“Th-thanks, El.”
“No problem, bro.”
“Bro.” Ugh. Okay, Ellie.
You were far less clothed a minute ago, and yet somehow you now were feeling much more naked than ever before.
“I-I think I left the shoes I want across the hall in Sidney’s room. Give me a sec?”
“Yeah, man. Go ahead.”
You nodded and retreated quickly out the door. As you shut it behind you, you leaned against it and clutched at your chest with both hands.
Oh god, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck. What just happened? What the fuck. Fuck.
Inside your room and unbeknownst to you, Ellie was leaning against her side of the door, quietly cursing to herself.
“Did I really just fucking do that? What the fuck, oh my fucking god. God damn it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Hey, are you okay?”
You blinked.
“Yes! Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”
You adjusted yourself under the covers to turn more towards Abby. Your previously glassy eyes met her concerned ones.
“Was it that bad?” She joked.
“No, oh my god, Abby,” You giggled, covering your face with your hands. “I think you getting me to cum twice in less than a minute speaks for itself.”
Abby smirked.
“Only twice? Wanna add a couple more to that?” She said, propping herself up on her elbow to look at you better.
“I think my pussy needs a sec before you make her see heaven again.” You replied.
“Mmm,” was all Abby said in reply, drinking in your naked figure in her bed.
The rest of the evening seemed surreal. Ellie had watched you finish getting ready, remaining mostly quiet for the rest of the time. She didn’t touch you again, almost as if she was afraid to. She’d walked you partway to Abby’s building before giving the excuse that she had some client she needed to meet. Her signature Converse stormed off without a second glance back at you. As you waved her off, you thought about how she didn’t have anything on her to sell, and you both knew it.
Throughout the entire night with Abby, though you allowed yourself to unwind and have some fun for once, your thoughts still continued to dance back incessantly to your auburn-haired friend.
“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” Abby asked.
“Just taking a minute and being impressed by you.”
Abby laughed.
“So not that bad, huh?” She joked. “But really. What’s up?”
You pursed your lips. You liked Abby, but she did not need to know all about this “friendship” of yours with Ellie.
“Not gonna lie,” You said, quickly coming up with a lie. “I was feeling really guilty before coming here tonight. Just cause Adriana’s your friend and we just broke up.”
It wasn’t completely far from the truth. You were feeling guilty about seeing Abby after Adriana. But she wasn’t the lesbian who you couldn’t get out of your head all night.
“Mm, that does make sense.” Abby replied, understanding. “It’s true, though. What I said earlier. Adriana did say it was okay.”
Sometime after you’d arrived at Abby’s dorm and before you’d both dropped the pretense of you coming over just to “hang out,” Abby disclosed that she’d asked for Adriana’s permission to fool around with you already. You were a bit surprised, but pleasantly so. You did come here tonight with specific intentions, but it did relieve you to know that Adriana meant it when she’d expressed no ill will towards you. And it kindled a warmth in you that Abby’d gone into this prepared and still with the respect of her friend.
“No, I know,” You said, the crease between your eyebrows crinkling as you thought up a quick lie. “I just… I still like Adriana as a person and I didn’t want my wandering vagina to get in the way of your friendship with her.”
Abby suddenly guffawed, her laugh so infectious and genuine that it made you giggle in response.
“D-did you just say ‘wandering vagina,’ oh my g—” She chortled. “Never heard that before.”
You shrugged, smiling at how easily amused Abby has been turning out to be.
“You say the strangest shit, you know?” Abby said, still chuckling.
“What can I say? It’s a gift.” You replied, to which Abby smiled.
“But really though,” Abby continued. “You don’t have to worry about me and Adriana. We’re still cool; nothing’s changed in our friendship. You both told me you weren’t serious, and she’s also just someone who’s never been possessive or jealous as a person. We’re all adults here, so no need to feel guilty. I promise.”
“Yeah, that…that does help.” You said, hoping that answer would suffice for Abby.
Abby seemed like she wanted to press more but decided against it. Instead, she grabbed your hips all of a sudden and lifted you up to place you on top of her, making you straddle her waist.
“Wh—Abby!” You said, startled. Your arms instinctively flew up to cover your bare breasts, the bed covers no longer shrouding your nakedness.
Abby chuckled, reaching up to your wrists and pulling them away from your chest.
“Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you have such a serious thinking face on?” She said.
A bashful look crossed your face as you stuttered a quiet “no” in response.
Abby smirked, dropping your wrists and placing her hands on your waist, tracing up and down your inner thighs with her thumbs. Your breath hitched and you gulped, feeling yourself instinctively grind against her.
“Well, you are.” She said. “And you’re cute, acting all shy about being naked in front of me like I wasn’t just knuckles deep inside you ten minutes ago.”
You bit your lip, partly from embarrassment and partly because Abby’s tracing of your thighs turned into squeezing.
“Y-you w-weren’t… knuckles-deep…” You stammered.
Abby chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
“Why the hell are you correcting me on how far inside of you I was anatomically?” She asked, extremely amused.
“I don’t know!” You said, flustered and rolling your eyes.
Abby chuckled, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist to keep you steady as she sat up to be at eye-level with you. With her free hand, she firmly gripped your chin between her large fingers and forced your eyes to meet hers.
“You’re very easy to fluster, you know.” She whispered.
“I-I—” was all that you could get out before Abby’s lips found yours. The sentence you’d meant to continue instead turned into a quiet shriek of surprise then into a lustful sigh that melted into the kiss.
Not ten seconds later, Abby pulled away slightly, a cocky look on her face.
“Any more anatomical complaints, then?” She murmured.
“Not at all, Dr. Anderson.” You chuckled breathlessly.
You jolted as Abby laughed again all of a sudden, grabbing both your shoulders for support.
“Was it… that funny?” You chuckled, a little confused.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Abby said. “It’s just that—my dad was Dr. Anderson.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah, he was a doctor.” She explained. “Before he passed, he used to be a surgeon back when my family and I lived in Utah.”
Shit, her dad. Of course.
Abby had mentioned her father to you several times already. You didn’t know much about him other than the fact that Abby completely adored the man and that he had died when she was only 16.
“Right, makes sense.” You said, wrapping your arms around her neck.
Abby’s father didn’t seem like an off-limits topic with her. In fact, you were in awe of how at peace she was with it. She seemed happy to talk about her dad, somehow able to acknowledge his passing and yet speak of him as if he was always present in a way. She didn’t make it uncomfortable to ask about him, and you often had the impression that she actually preferred it when others didn’t fuss over it. So you made sure not to.
“So no to calling you Dr. Anderson, then?” You asked.
“Well, actually,” Abby embraced your waist and pulled you closer to her body. “Kind of studying to be a doctor. Like him.”
“Wait, really?” You replied, a bit of shock in your voice. “How did I not know that?”
“Don’t really know, pretty girl,” She replied, smirking. “Got too distracted by my washboard abs to notice?”
“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” You scoffed, smiling and rolling your eyes.
Abby chuckled before leaning into your neck to leave trails of kisses.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re also very cute when you have a little bit of an attitude?” She asked, lifting her head up slightly in between kisses.
“Mm, I don’t know,” You sighed, pulling her further into you and trying not to grind too eagerly against her once again. “Maybe once or twice. But why don’t you remind me, Dr. Anderson?”
You heard Abby suddenly moan in your ear, almost growling, before you were suddenly thrown on your back onto the bed. Any words that meant to roll off your tongue were replaced instead with cries of pleasure as your knees were pried apart with Abby’s strong hands, her mouth finding ways to answer your question without words.
Present Day
“So still planning on becoming a surgeon, then?” You ask.
“Starting med school immediately after I graduate this year.” Abby replies.
“Wow,” You say, impressed. “That’s really soon. Are you nervous about it?”
“Hmm, not nervous, exactly,” Abby replies, thinking. “I grew up around doctor shit, so I have a tiny idea of what I’m facing. I’m choosing to stay positive about it all for now.”
“Commendable,” You smile. “How the hell have you been surviving all your pre-med shit with sports and all?”
“Hey,” She says, shrugging. “You said it yourself. I’m basically a superhero.”
You chuckle. You’ve forgotten just how confident Abby is and how attractive it was to see it in action.
“Right, of course. How could I forget?”
“You know, maybe if I really was Wonder Woman, I could attend my next class and get a coffee with you right now. If you’re not busy, that is.”
“That is not how Wonder Woman works, Abby.” You say, giggling.
“Oh, whatever.” Abby laughs, rolling her eyes. “Forgot just how much of a nerd you were, pretty girl.”
“Hey—” You start.
“YO ABS, are you gonna throw that shit back or keep flirting with hot chicks?!” A voice behind Abby calls.
Abby grunts in annoyance, turning around to face her friend Jordan who was several feet away from where you both were.
“Stop throwing like a little bitch and we wouldn’t be having this problem, dumbass!” She calls back at him, to which he replies with a playful, “Oh, fuck off!”
You watch as Abby draws back, arms flexing as she throws the football in a quick, perfect spiral towards Jordan. He catches it, but not before it makes a loud thud against his chest.
“OW, FUCK—" He shouts in pain.
“Dumbass!” She hollers in response.
You're both chuckling when she turns back to face you.
“Need to go?” You ask.
“Didn’t you hear? I’m busy flirting with hot chicks. Well, just one hot chick.”
Your purse your lips, sheepish.
“So,” She said. “Coffee?”
“Abby, you just said you had a class to get to in a bit. Also,” You gesture to your mostly-empty coffee cup still next to you in the grass. “Beat you to the punch.”
“Ah, fuck.”
“Sorry,” You chuckle. “I’ve also got class in,” You checked your phone for the time. “Around five minutes or so.”
“Wow, you really wanna avoid getting a coffee with me that bad, huh?”
“Oh, absolutely. I premeditatedly mapped out my entire class schedule this semester just so I didn’t have to hang out with you right at this moment.” You joke.
“I knew it.”
You laugh.
“Can I at least walk you to class, though?” Abby asks.
“Sure,” You replies. “But what about your class?”
“Got a bit of time; don’t worry about it.”
You smile before you gather your things together quickly. You reach for your coffee cup but it disappears suddenly before your hand is even inches from it.
“Abby!” You exclaim, jumping up onto your feet as you quickly pull your backpack on.
“What?” She questions, walking backwards while still facing you to throw your coffee cup away in a nearby trash can.
“I can’t throw away my own trash?”
“Just being helpful.” She says, shrugging.
“You can’t be both a superhero and some chivalrous lesbian knight.”
“I can do whatever I want, pretty girl.”
You feel your face getting hot once more.
“So,” She starts. “Which way is your next class?” She begins walking in the wrong direction.
“About twenty feet east of where you’re heading, silly.”
“Oh, uhh…” Abby stops in her tracks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration while processing your directions.
You laugh and roll your eyes, grabbing her arm and leading her towards the building your next class was in.
“Straley Hall, right in front of you, dummy. Remind me never to travel across the country with you.” You say.
“What kind of nerd actually says ‘east’ when giving directions!” She complains.
“That’s a perfectly normal thing to say!”
“Why are the cutest girls always the weirdest ones?” Abby says, shaking her head.
You looked away from her, trying to hide your embarrassed smile.
“How are you supposed to save people’s lives when you don’t even understand simple directions, Dr. Anderson?”
She smirks at your comment and her lips form to reply with a retort of their own.
Just a few feet down the brick college road, Ellie stands frozen on the spot. Her hands are balled up in fists and her jaw is clenched. Her ocean green eyes trail after your unknowing figure, fixating on the wide smile on your lips as you let out peals of genuine laughter and your fingers still gently caressing the bicep of golden girl and star athlete, Abigail Anderson.
author's notes:
HAHAHAHA "in case of a zombie apocalypse" get it, cause the game is set in a zomb—yeah y'all get it (sorry not really)
let's all take a brief sexy second together and imagine abby as amazon from themyscira... now let's all let out the collective horny sigh together.
thank you all for being so patient waiting for this one. life has been... yeah (if you've been keeping up with the personal stuff I've said on my blog the last week, that should add more context to what a shit my life has been recently). i've been having to push myself with writing lately cause i feel like i'm getting too into my head about it. but thank y'all so much for being supportive and all, thank you for not giving up on me!
not gonna lie, loves. i may have gotten extremely horny writing certain scenes in this and had to take multiple breaks because my mind was concocting too many distracting scenarios as a result (the ellie scene took me days to get through to write, i'm so dead serious, and the smut-adjacent abby scene almost turned into a full-fledged smut scene cause i'm such a fucking lesbian, oops, i genuinely had to restrain myself so i could write the story the way i actually have it planned out).
abby having no sense of direction at the end of the chapter is just a personal reference to me when i played tlou2 for the first time and when i was playing as abby at the very start when she's mad at owen for getting mel pregnant and trying to go after joel on her own, i got lost for like 10 minutes just going in circles in the fucking woods and snow like a moron. just wanted to be a little bit silly by creating no sense of direction!abby hehe
taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky, @ximtiredx, @qtefolleunpez, @libr4sonsa
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Astarion x Reader
words: 1.5K
rating: T
pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Tav
summary: banking off the Jealous!Tav x Astarion ask, I made one for Ascended verse as well.
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Astarion let out a deep sigh as he walked through the long corridors of his palace towards his chambers. Who knew being a Vampire Lord would be so taxing?
He thought it would be all blood, japes, and all-consuming-power when he ascended, but noooo. Apparently, all that power did not come with an instantaneous dark underground to control and city at his feet. He had to put in effort. Time. A lot of both, which somedays Astarion thought was just not worth it. But his ambitions would not let him rest on his laurels. Even if he did need a rest for the evening.
The doors let out a heavy echo as they close behind him, and Astarion sighed once more as he undid his overcoat. His attention then turned towards the bed as he saw the bedding move. “Darling?” He questioned curiously but knew it couldn’t be.
Tav was out with Shadowheart. Catching up with their dear friend while she was in the city, for reasons that were probably told to Astarion but he couldn’t be bother to remember since he wasn’t going. For once he let them go unaccompanied but was now hopeful that they came back early over missing him terribly.
“Master?” Astarion’s face paled (metaphorically, as it could not get any paler than it already was) as the sheets pulled back an a young, blonde, naked woman appeared from the covers. “I thought you’d never come back tonight.”
“What are you doing here Azura?” He hissed at his latest spawn. A silly girl who begged him for the gift, and Astarion gave it to her for no other reason than he felt his beloved needed a new chambermaid. “You dare enter my chambers, uninvited, and help yourself to my bed. Have you lost your absolute mind?!”
Astarion wasn’t exactly kind to his spawn, but he wasn’t nearly as cruel as Cazador. Which he knew was a very low bar. He gave them a fine amount of freedom to move about the castle. Updated the dorms so they weren’t as spartan as what he had been forced to endure. Almost never tortured them unless they absolutely needed to be punished. And this is how he was repaid?!
“Yes. I have lost my mind. Lost it for you, my master.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Oh Gods, the idiot was in love. He recognized that soft stare and devoted posture. If her, quite literally, naked display wasn’t enough of a clue he could nearly smell the pheromones off her. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to please you.”
“You can please me by getting out.” He pointed to the door although he didn’t compel her. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he wanted to again be kind and give her the choice. Or just a sick morbid curiosity on how this would play out.
“Leave? You really don’t want me here?” She seemed surprised. Given her beauty this may have been the first time she was rejected, Astarion assumed. It always surprised him when his quarry didn’t take the bait. Perhaps this was a similar feeling for her. “You really don’t want me to stay?”
Azura pulled back the sheets to reveal that she wasn’t truly naked. Just in a thin nightgown that was so transparent it was nearly invisible. Her skin smooth. Her legs long. Her cunt neatly shaved and breast taunt & perky. She’ll lead men to this castle in droves, he thought. Unfortunately, her charms were immune to him.
“Yes. Get out. I won’t repeat myself again.”
The girl jumped off the bed and came closer. Astarion hoped it was for the door, but no such luck. His spawn leaned into him, delicate and wanting. Staring up into his eyes like a lover while he stared back at her with a stern look. “Shouldn’t a master be able to taste what’s his when he likes. Don’t you miss my blood from the first time? Tasting it on your lips?”
He wants to tell her no. That he hasn’t thought about it since that first time. Honestly, he hadn’t thought of her since that first time. But mentions of blood, and the reminder of the power he felt when he took her life and made it his own, does get his own blood to hum.
“You can have it again, if you’d like. Take all of me. A lord, a king, can take anything he wishes. I can be your obedient consort as well. Be one of your most beloved spawn.” As she spoke her body and lips moved closer to him.
“What’s going on here?”
The girl jumped back, quickly. Like she had been licked by fire. Astarion stood still. He hadn’t done anything wrong, technically, so he had no reason to be afraid. Although that cool look in Tav’s eyes was making him seriously question that decision. “I said: what’s going on here?”
“I was….I-I was just….I…”
“You were trying to take my place, eh?” Astarion chuckled at his beloved’s blunt response. Direct and to the point as always.
“Darling, as if she could.” He moved over to Tav. Separating himself completely from his spawn to sooth his consort. “This is just some misplaced adoration of a spawn and their master. Granted we’ve gone a little far…”
“It’s not misplaced! I love you!” There was a growl in Tav’s throat and Astarion huffed at the girl’s childish pleas. He really had been trying to help her here. “I would never leave you alone like they would! I would be loyal to you always! I can be twice the consort they are if you just give me a ch—"
She doesn’t get to finish asking for her chance that would never come. As her head was hanging limp to the side, nearly off her shoulders. Blood gushing from the gaping hole in her throat. Spraying across the room and down her thin negligee. Once translucent material now opaque as it was drenched in crimson. “Well…that was something.”
“It’s not funny Astarion!” Tav yelled at him. Their eyes were wild and angry as they whipped around to glare at him. A powerful shiver running up his spine in the face of that heat.
“Of course it’s funny. All this for something so trivial. As if this scrap of nothing could have replace you. My beloved, perfect consort.” Astarion came close and lifted their bloody hand to kiss it gently. “No one could, would, or ever will replace you, my love. My wicked heart is yours, for all eternity.”
“Why didn’t you tell her that then?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it needed to be said.” His poor dead spawn had to know she was taking a long shot when she came here. And if she didn’t then she was too dumb for Astarion to have around anyway. Still, he supposed Tav was right. He could have made more of an effort to stop her. “Still, it is rather cute that you can still get jealous over my affection. It makes me so hot. Watching you fight over me.”
He heard Tav sigh when he kissed by their ear and then jaw. Hearing them mutter, “not much of a fight” which made his cock harden in his breeches.
“Perhaps I should flirt with women and men more often.”
Astarion felt a hard jerk of his own pristine, sharp jaw away from Tav. Their nails digging into the soft skin of his cheek as they stared at them with a blazing hatred he hadn’t seen since the Elder Brain or that disgusting necromancer in the crypt. “Don’t.” A single word. Sharp. Direct.
He doesn’t like to be told ‘no’ often these days. He’s killed men for less presses against his authority. But that sharp look, one that promised his beloved would leave a trail of bodies like rose petals at his feet if he even pretended to be interested in them, made his blood boil with desire. It’s a beat in his heart that echoes his own. The agonies he would face on men who even stared at his beloved too long. Their glances were only for him. Their body was only his. Their conversations, their passions, their life, their loyalty, all of it was his. He supposed the least he could do was not pretend to be fickle with it.
“Very well, my love. I won’t. My sweet words will, as always, be for you alone. Plus, we can’t have your jealousy wreaking havoc all over the castle & city. Just think of the stains.”
He kissed Tav, to reassure them that his love was for them and them alone, picking them up and carrying them to the bed to remind them properly. As he carried them to their bed, he stepped over poor dead, double dead, Azura’s body. Already forgotten. Already not even a memory. Just a stain in the carpet that would need to be sorted out in the morning.
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