Videogame Characters One-Shots

imagine being loved by me (Adrien Victus)

     War, the threat of a painful ending, breathing down their necks. Like a beast; it demanded attention and wouldn't let them sleep, eat in peace, or just exist at all. While it seemed selfish to entertain their primal desires amidst such turmoil, the overwhelming stress pleaded for those needs to be gratified.

     Shepard was uncertain when he started occupying her deepest fantasies, but she recognized the urgency to rid herself of these desires. The need to feel his talons piercing her flesh, to hear his voice caressing her name, murmuring seductive words into her ear, promising a repetition of such encounters— it consumed her thoughts. The notion that he might reciprocate her feelings felt absurd, yet little did she know that his gaze had already been fixed upon her. Victus had heard her name frequently, and before he realized it, he found himself aboard the ship she commanded. Each day, he could smell her longing for him, and he suspected that some of her squadmates might have picked up on it as well. She didn't seem to realize her scent gave her away. Initially, he found himself taken aback by the fact that the tenacious and small human would even spare a glance for an aging turian like him. He brushed off that notion, thinking he had misinterpreted the subtle scent of her desire, but as time passed, it became undeniable.

     She had become a maddening presence, stirring his senses, and he eagerly anticipated the opportune moment to make her his. Aware of the Commander's numerous admirers, he noticed her disinterest in their advances, which emboldened him to seek the perfect occasion to approach her.

     The chance presented itself on an exceptionally tense day when Shepard returned with the female krogan from the Salarian Special Tasks Group facility. Adrien's efforts to enlist Wrex's support for his people on Palaven had proven fruitless. Both the Commander and the Primarch were burdened with immense pressure, and by some twist of fate, they ended up unintentionally secluded at the rear of the crew deck. As he entered the space, he discovered her already seated, a drink in hand, and without delay, Victus poured himself a generous measure of amber liquid that glistened in the dim lighting. The beverage, a smooth and aged turian brandy, exuded a rich aroma of spiced oak and hints of vanilla. They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, it wasn't until the last drops of their first drinks vanished that their focus shifted towards one another. Victus' gaze fixated on Shepard's tired frame, slouched wearily in her seat, her posture a testament to the weight she carried upon her shoulders. Fatigue etched lines upon her face, her features showing the strain of countless battles and arduous decisions. Shoulders slightly slumped, her body seemed to bear the invisible burdens of command, as if every responsibility had taken a toll on her. Despite the weariness that marked her stance, there was a glimmer of unwavering determination in her eyes, a resilient spark that refused to be extinguished.

     "I never had the chance to congratulate you on today's accomplishments, Commander," he spoke, acknowledging the triumph of yet another successful mission, bringing them closer to the seemingly insurmountable goal they had set out to achieve—the unity of these disparate species against the looming threat of the Reapers. His voice, as expected of a turian, carried a distinct deep timbre that resonated with authority and strength. Every word he spoke seemed to possess a certain gravitas, a commanding presence that demanded attention. There was a subtle rasp to his tone, lending it a rugged quality that hinted at the experiences and hardships he had endured. Despite the inherent sternness often associated with turians, there was also a hint of warmth and sincerity in his voice, offering a glimpse into the depths of his character. It resonated in his chest, causing a shiver to run down Shepard's spine, inducing goosebumps that prickled her exposed skin. She attributed her physical reaction to the mere fact of wearing a casual tank top, dismissing the notion that there might be more to it.

     "Thank you Primarch" She gave him a light smile, slightly tired as her eyes ran down his face, tracing the markings on his plates. She had seen them so many times but she was sure that she could look at them for hours, they just looked so beautiful on him. "But we're still far from receiving the help your people need" He could sense how all of this was taking her energies away, how her flame was slowly dying.