Victorious Ao3 Novels & Stories

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ Author's note : - Please do check out my other books ♡ ) Im - perfect ♡) your faithful poisonous consort ♡) a rose dedicated to Alpha Aiden ♡ ) Superstar chef mommy of villain and villainess ♡ ) Tumbling emotions Thank you ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Angela was lost in her head. Victory was sweet, it left a lingering taste on your tongue, it makes you forget everything else, makes you blind to your enemy's counter-offensive response. Everyone else would be fooled by victory’s sweet lingering taste but not her. She had been a victim of it in the past, she had relished her victory so much that she was oblivious to her enemy's attack and her victory had been spoiled almost as soon as it got to her hand. So she had to learn, the hard way and learn she did.

What if the pain never went away? A cold shiver ran through her as she thought about the possibility of waking up again. She didn’t want to. A single tear fell from her eyes, disappearing into her blood-stained hair. Then her eyes were beginning to close. She desperately embraced the darkness, hoping it was the end of her life. But if she ever opened her eyes again, she would make them pay for everything they had done to her, especially Andreas King. It was the last thought in her mind before everything went blank.

Sigil-fire burned through Victor’s twisted enchantments, unraveling his shadows one by one. Maxim tore through summoned wraiths, the beast inside him no longer chained—but finally channeled. Controlled. Glorious. The valley turned into a war hymn. Every step was a prayer. Every roar, a declaration. Gavin, wounded but unrelenting, led a flank through Victor’s summoned beasts. Ruby stood beside Zara, a blade in each hand, eyes gleaming with defiance. Victor tried to vanish again, slipping into the shadow realm like he had before.

The very thing they’d been forced to fight for, like dogs scrambling for scraps under their mother’s table. He leaned down, blood dripping from his chin, his fingers closing around the invitation with a calm, final certainty. “I win,” he said quietly, lifting it up for all to see. “He can’t make it.” He turned and looked at Jaxon—his brother now slumped against the wall of the arena, one arm hanging limp, chest heaving with shallow breaths, sweat and blood soaking through his shirt. “Just look at your favorite son,” Dorian continued, his voice sharpened by exhaustion and contempt. “He’s barely breathing.”

"You are no longer in your world, Carmen. When you died, the vortex you saw transported you here, to a realm beyond your comprehension. This is the world of your favorite manga." Carmen blinked, the words taking a moment to register. What does this woman mean by being transported to a manga? "My... manga?" She asked, confused. Because there was no way in hell this woman was saying what she was actually thinking because that would be a crazy theory. Nyx nodded. "The story you read so often, the one that consumed your thoughts. "Eclipsed Fates" You've been transported into that world. But you are no longer Carmen. Here, you are Daphne Vasquez, daughter of Lord Alaric and Lady Erica Vasquez."

Damian's POV The victory howl still echoed in my bones hours later, a primal chorus that had ripped through the estate as Voss's lifeless body hit the mill floor. Blood—mine, his, the hybrids' metallic tang—still crusted my skin beneath the fresh shirt I'd thrown on. The pack had feasted that night: roaring fires in every hearth, tables groaning under venison and whiskey, songs of triumph bellowing until the rafters shook. Viktor had clasped my forearm again, his grip bruising with respect, promising Shadowclaw warriors for our borders "until the moon falls." Even Grandma Eleanor had allowed herself a rare second dram of scotch, her eyes glassy with pride as she toasted, "To the Blackwood li

he said shamelessly. Vinca couldn't make heads or tails of what Damont said. Instead, she stood and ran towards the lady wanting to scratch her face off because she felt she was the one who was out to ruin her relationship. Damont couldn't take it anymore, so he hit her unconscious, and Vinca saw black. ***** "You said she would be awake in three days, what happened? Why is she still in a coma? Frost asked.

But as their passion ignited, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. They moved to the bedroom, their bodies entwined, their movements driven by a primal need for connection, for solace, for release. They made love with a raw intensity, a desperate attempt to fill the void in their hearts, to find solace in each other’s arms. As they lay together, exhausted but content, Jenifer felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that what they had done was not a betrayal of Victoria’s memory, but a celebration of life, a testament to the enduring power of love.

At that moment, it seemed to be as if his actions weren't born of revenge, but something else entirely. You don't make your enemies feel loved in revenge. She opened her eyes and was immediately struck by the intensity of his gaze. Those dark gray eyes seemed to draw her in like a magnet. They were dark and deep and mysterious like the night sky. "Why did you do this?" "Wanted you close to me,” he replied and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Wrap your legs around me." Kevin's voice was a sultry whisper as he urged her to wrap her legs around him but seeing her hesitation he slowly pulled her soaking gown up—his touch was soft and patient— exposing her bare thigh and wrapped it