#anja answers

[pricescigar]

Hello there !

For your both OCs !😄

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Thank youuu!

Elvira:

Elvira's hobbies is playing the Piano, drawing and reading! (She also paints sometimes, with water colours or actual paints she buys)

Elvira's one of best memories is being adopted by Adler, and the other is meeting & marrying Price!

What I like most about Elvira is that she's vastly different from my other OC's, complex in a way that u night not be able to create a OC like that again 😂

Elvira's love interest is Price !

(What If Elvira's love interest is Stitch & Resident Evil version of Elvira's love itneresti Albert Wesker)

Mikhail:

Mikhail's hobby is fixing cars oddly enough, even though he has his men to do things for him. Sometimes he just likes doing things himself

Mikhail's best memory is taking over the Mafia circle after his boss had passed away, and marrying Anja of course

What I like most about Mikhail is that I thought of him out of the blue 😂

Mikhail's love interest is Anja Petrochenka

Anja is @adlerboi 's OC

[granma-sweetie]

PROFILE PICTURE 💓💞💗💖💕💘💝🩷💓💗💞💖💝🩷💘💕💗💞💓💝💞💘💗🩷💕💕💝💞💓💓

GRINNINGGGGG

[detectivelokis]

Charlie x Wesker for the if they had a kid meme?

Thank you, Mari! They have twins so lemme just go with my fave. Also tagging @sstewyhosseini 🖤

Name: Anja Wesker

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Anja is average height with pale freckled skin. Her hair is long and blonde. Like Charlie, she has olive eyes and wavy hair.

Personality: Unlike her sister Annika who is fiery and very introverted, Anja is quiet and reserved, bordering on shy. She’s very emotionally intelligent and thoughtful when it comes to others feelings. Some might even say she’s just intuitive and can pick up on how someone is feeling without them having to say. Definitely a mama’s girl too. Has been since the moment she was born.

Special Talents: Both twins are brainy and scientifically inclined, but Anja tends to focus her talents on botany and growing medicinal herbs since she believes in mixing science and herbalism. She’s also a pretty good cook and likes to grow things that she can work with.

Who they like better: She adores both her parents, but she loves Charlie just a little bit more.

Who they take after more: She’s not really like either of her parents tbh. She has her father’s curiosity and intelligence, yet she looks like and has her mother’s mannerisms.

Personal Head canon: Like stated above, Anja is super brainy like her dad which led her to graduating both high school and college two years early. Annika was a little jealous, but she went to a local university so her sister wouldn’t feel like she had abandoned her.

Face Claim: Sonya Kulakova

[samara-asaika]

Spy x family swap TwT

Why do I have Underswap wearing the clothes of Lor, Loid and Anja as Chara, Papyrus and Sans in my mind?? xD

[supergraphicultramodernboy]

who is dimitri

he is my beautiful angel son who is perfect

[arcxnumvitae]

Besides Manjuu, who amongst your coworkers do you like messing with Anja?

@thewolfisawake // mentioning @bottleofbabes || Ask my Muse about their relationships with other Muses!

“Kaisei is easy pickings, almost too easy sometimes. Kaito can be fun to push every now and again. And Mikoto,” at the mention of that wild woman, they grinned. “I like a challenge.

[madwickedawesome]

its 11pm u know what means ! its time to make a really bad decision that tomorrow me is gonna HAAAATE me for (i should be doing my hw but im too sleepy so tmrw me is gonna deal w all that mess)

[magnusedom]

🎁

heyyy anja! you probably don't even remember making this request but better late than never hehe 🤗 here's your gift and i hope you like it 💗

[cryptcombat]

with bg3 release so close, im literally so PUMPED to find out what happens with anja awooooga 🥴 has there been any changes in anja’s story since she was first created? 👀

NAOMI!!! 🥺🥺💖💕 i won't be able to get bg3 any time soon but that won't stop me from having brain worms!!! :3c

Anja is a spoiled noble who complains about anything that mildly inconveniences her 😔 with Rachael's help she gatekept gaslit and girlbossed her way to the top in exchange for her soul but she somehow managed to outwit him everytime which made him even more obsessed with her than he already is. She thinks its a fun game between them and she gradually gets more careless :(

[anjaofthewild]

[stay] – enok offers anja a place to stay, so that – wherever she got these bruises – she doesn’t have to go back. :)

The young man was foolish. She could tell her quiet stare had unnerved him, and yet he still grinned, wearing the expression like a veil of bravery. He only stopped grinning when her hood was pushed back and all was revealed.

Bruises. A few old, most new.

Her father had lost coin by gambling it and it was mother and daughter who felt it the most. Life would go on. They could live from the forest, they could live simply. It didn't matter if they couldn't have meat on the table until a rabbit was caught — or a deer, hunts be praised.

But that wasn't the way her father wanted it. No, he wanted sliced pork and fine grain for fresh bread. Apricots were in season though he wanted the sweet grapes from the south. Even if he had his every whim and his pockets exploded with coin he would be bottomless with greed. Never satisfied. Always taking.

In contrast, the young man was giving. She could tell he had nothing to his name. Of course she could see he was an escaped slave. He could hide the branding all he wished but the braids and beads in his hair told a different story. No one of his background travelled through the northern lands because they wanted to be there. He was following quieter roads. More difficult terrain. Hoping that the mountain was too much hassle and himself of too little value to retrieve.

"I'm going to kill my father." Anja claimed. An odd answer to his offering of help. "I have gathered enough poison to kill him five times over. So, I cannot join you at your camp. I have a job to do."

Then she hesitated. Almost seemed to say something, faltered, then had an internal argument about it. Finally she exhaled a deep breath through her nostrils. "Show me your camp. I won't bring harm to you, don't look wide-eyed. You might need to move. I know where no man or hound will come looking for you."

[vihrago-a]

@crowgreeds said on my old blog: protective [ … ]﹕ receiver shows protectiveness over sender . (Anja)

she’s never had bite to her. not until now. she’d grown fond of kaz , more than she would ever admit. and in turn — protective. he was certainly more than capable of protecting himself with that cane of his and wits. of course since it was a club , however , people were bound to get rowdy and drunk. her and kaz had been sitting at one of the tables playing some card game she couldn’t remember the name of. next thing she knew , some drunkard had bumped into kaz and released a slew of curses under his breath — turning to the crow with an angry expression. she didn’t even process her own movements before it happened. she stood abruptly and was white knuckling the table , meeting the gaze of the man. it only took a few seconds before he walked off to his other group of friends. she let out a relieved breath and sat back down.

“ I … dont know what got into me. I apologize. ”

[writing-for-marvel]

🧡 love ya and hope you're doing good 💛

You are more amazing!! And I love you more, I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday season ♥️♥️

[gresit]

happy bday kumi, all the best for you 💫

thank you for your well wishes anja <333

[arcxnumvitae]

"Albracht-san, I heard you came from the Bastion. And I just wanted to ask...what did you do? What place teaches you to fight like you do? And why'd you come out here?" Eiji asked. He didn't know of YDA nor the Bastion prior. But he supposed it had to do with nature of their work. But still it sounded fantastic, almost too hard to believe.

@thewolfisawake || Unprompted!

Ugh, way too many questions. This is why someone should hold some sort of crash course for the random humans who found out just last week that, yes, all the "fictional" things exist. It saved time and most importantly it saved them the energy of having to constantly explain the basic things. They swear, if Kaisei asked them one more time if vampires, werewolves, and ghosts really, truly existed (he can see spirits, for fuck's sake, why was he asking about ghosts!), they were going to take their scythe and shove it up his--

Anja took a deep breath. "A similar place to the one you currently work for." Said in a tone where the 'duh' was unmistakable. The Bastion and the YDA weren't exactly 1:1 comparisons of course, but like hell they felt like laying out specifically each and every similarity and difference.

"As part of my work for the Bastion I found things that wanted to hurt people and then I made sure they weren't able to hurt anyone, simple as that. I was an intoner." No, they would not be elaborating. "And I joined the YDA because I heard of the organization and thought it was interesting, why else would someone switch careers?" Yes, they were being intentionally dense.

[madwickedawesome]

Juno you are completely correct as always

THANK U ANJA i do my best 😎😤

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part IV

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you visit Loki's rooms. Chapter Warnings: Fingering, making out, orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, more of Loki being a horrendous tease.

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

In the light of morning, this all looks like a very bad idea. You are a servant; he is a prince. There is no future with him, certainly, and while he seems to be infatuated with you at present, there’s no telling how long that particular whim will last. You have no guarantee that he has your best interests in mind. Sneaking around after dark was risky enough in itself when you were just going to the library to read—sneaking to a prince’s bedchamber for activities that most would consider indecent is a level of recklessness that you’ve never even come close to before. If Fritjof finds out about this, you are fairly certain you’ll end up in the dungeons.

But at the same time...the idea is appealing in a way that makes the risk seem worth it. Loki is handsome and clever and you like how his wit is as sharp as your own. You like how he makes you feel. You’d had some relationships before—a short-lived tryst with a handsome stablehand, a brief infatuation with a valet, a whirlwind romance with a merchant—but none of them had ever been quite like this. You hadn’t wanted them like you want Loki...and the thought of Loki wanting you is far more intoxicating than it has any right to be.

You should not go. You want to go. You shouldn’t. You want to. You go back and forth with yourself on this for most of the day, to the point that Anja scolds you for your inattentiveness.

There’s part of you, though, that knows all along what your choice will be.

And so, against every shred of good judgment you possess, you find yourself walking to Loki’s chambers later that evening. It’s a nerve-wracking walk and you find yourself jumping at every shadow, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest with every unexpected noise.

He opens the door before you can knock, almost like he can sense how fragile this is, how close you are to turning around and running back to your room, how wildly your heart is beating in your chest.

You’ve never been in any of the royal chambers before and you’re surprised by how immediately out of place you feel. His rooms are beautifully appointed and it only makes you more aware of the plainness of your work dress, reinforcing the fact that you’re not supposed to be here. You smooth your hands awkwardly against the fabric of your skirts as the door clicks shut behind you.

“Are you nervous?”

His voice startles you slightly, though you certainly haven’t forgotten his presence. You turn to face him, your chin jutting out defiantly.

“I am no maiden, if that’s what you’re asking,” you say.

He laughs quietly. “I wasn’t, but I shall take that under advisement.”

Your cheeks burn—you really need to think more carefully before you speak. It’s just that you’re so wildly out of your element right now that you don’t really know how to act, especially not with Loki looking like he means to undress you with his gaze. At least the library is familiar and dim enough to blunt the wrongness of what you’re doing. These beautiful rooms make you feel exposed and awkward.

You square your shoulders and stare him down as he approaches, trying to ignore the obvious smirk pulling at his lips.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says softly, stopping mere inches in front of you. He reaches up, fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Are you nervous?”

You swallow and try to keep your face expressionless, even though he can surely feel your heart pounding when his thumb grazes your pulse point. “I suppose I don’t really know what to expect,” you say.

He gives you a rather devilish grin and heat flares between your legs. “I rather think you’ll enjoy it,” he says, taking both of your hands in his as he leads you over to the couch in a little sitting area. “In fact, I intend to make sure of it.”

“Once again, your confidence is inspiring,” you say, though your bravado is mostly to hide your nerves.

He chuckles as he sits down, pulling you into his lap so that you straddle his hips, your skirts riding up to the middle of your thighs. “I am looking forward to quieting that wicked tongue.”

“I thought you were going to endeavor to make me scream,” you say.

He chuckles, his large, warm hands stroking up your legs, pausing at your knees. “So dreadfully impertinent.”

“You like it.”

He hums, his hands inching up your thighs. “Not nearly as much as I like the idea of you becoming pliant and yielding under my touch.”

“You certainly have a high opinion of your ability.”

You say this to bait him and you’re immediately gratified by the dark look in his eyes and his hands coming to rest at the juncture where your hips meet your thighs. Your stomach muscles tense in delicious anticipation.

“Do I?” he murmurs, his fingertips gently grazing the thin layer of fabric that covers your sex. “I can feel how slick you are already and I haven’t even touched you.”

Without realizing it, you’ve tilted your head so that your forehead rests against his and he takes advantage of the closeness, slanting his mouth over yours, sliding his tongue along your lower lip until you open your mouth to him. He is equal parts rough and tender, a combination that leaves your head spinning and intensifies the ache between your legs as his fingers press lightly against you. He nips at your lower lip, soothing the sting with a sensuous swipe of his tongue before luring you back into a slow and seductive rhythm that makes it difficult to think about anything other than the taste of his lips, the dull ache building between your thighs, and the hard length straining at his trousers.

He breaks the kiss to look at you, green eyes boring into yours. Your breath hitches as he pushes the fabric of your undergarments aside, his fingers hovering teasingly over your sex.

Your breath has become rapid and shallow. He looks at you, eyes lust glazed, but still cool and calm and completely in control.

“Tell me what you want, darling.” 

There’s a small part of you that still has the wherewithal to be a little annoyed. Of course this is just another game, another trick to play. The bastard has the gall to look amused at how flustered you are, how you’re practically trembling and panting in anticipation of his touch.

But you’re just lust-crazed enough to play along with his tricks and games and his hand is so deliciously close to where you need him. “Touch me,” you murmur.

You decide to ignore the teasing, triumphant glint in his eyes—for now, at least. One finger strokes the very edge of your sex—not where you need to be touched, not anywhere that brings you relief.

“Here?” he asks, his eyes wide with feigned innocence.

You have enough presence of mind to scowl at him. “You know what I want.”

His grin is devilish. “Perhaps I want to hear it from you.”

You sigh, but you decide it’s worth it. “I...I want you to make me come.”

His eyes take on a dark and hungry focus that makes you shiver and his fingers finally—finally—part the slick folds of your sex, circling the swollen nub of your clit. Your eyes close and you let out a breath, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmurs.

“Smugness doesn’t suit you,” you say.

He gives a low laugh. “We both know that’s a lie.” He slides one finger inside of you and you can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips. “So slick already,” he murmurs, his thumb sliding up to rub your clit. “Did you touch yourself after I left you last night?”

You had certainly considered it—he had you wound so tightly that it took you nearly an hour to fall asleep. But you also suspected that he would make you wait another night if you took matters into your own hands and you were fairly certain you would die if you had to wait any longer, so you refrained, as difficult as it was.

“No,” you say and the look on his face when he realizes that you’re not lying almost makes the sexual frustration worth it.

“No?” he says, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. “Even after I left you so terribly unsatisfied?”

“You told me you would make it worth my wait,” you say, your hips rocking with his hand. “So I waited.”

The look he gives you is dark and hungry and a little wild. “Good girl,” he purrs and you tighten reflexively around his fingers. You’re almost embarrassed by the effect that his words have on you, but you can’t bring yourself to care overly much, not with the way his fingers are moving inside of you and how his thumb is rubbing those perfect little circles against your clit. Your eyes shut and your head tips back as you moan. A warm, pulsing heat is building in your belly, rising like a tide, waiting to sweep you under.

“Yes,” he breathes, “that’s lovely, darling, you’re so responsive.”

You keen at his words and his fingers curl inside of you, pressing firmly against a spot that makes you see stars.

“Look at me,” he says in that purr of a voice. You somehow summon the concentration to raise your head and lift your eyes to him. “I want to hear you, do you understand?” he says. “No holding back.”

The pleasure is becoming unbearable and you can feel yourself tensing around his fingers, poised on the edge, about to fall. You whimper, your fingernails digging into his shoulders, hips rocking. 

“That’s it, you’re almost there.” His breathing is slightly heavy and he’s looking at you like you’re something wonderful. The hunger in his eyes summons a bolt of longing in you that translates to a physical ache in your hips. The thought of him wanting you like that is a kind of intense thrill that you’ve never felt before—so intense, in fact, that it’s enough to give you that final nudge over the edge and you come with a soft cry.

“Lovely.” He reaches for you and pulls you into a lazy kiss as you ride out the wave of your high. You sigh against his mouth and he nips at your lower lip. “But you were holding back,” he says.

You’re about to ask him why he thinks that, but his hand is moving again and it’s distracting, to say the least. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to make you come again,” he says with a mock sigh, his voice coming out as a bit of a growl. “Do try to follow my instructions this time.”

Distantly, you note that this is the sort of thing that requires a smart and snappy reply, which would be forthcoming if his fingers weren’t doing such unspeakably good things between your legs. With anyone else, it would be too much too close to your previous orgasm, but Loki has an almost uncanny sense of how to touch you. He is coaxing something warm and wicked out of those aftershocks, something that is building low in your hips, making you tighten around his fingers. You’re panting, a needy whimper falling from your lips.

“Yes, darling,” he murmurs, his eyes sliding over you appreciatively. “I want to hear you scream for me. No holding back this time.”

The thing is, you’re not sure you can hold back, even if you wanted to. It’s become rapidly apparent that you’re going to come again and by the way your whole body seems to be anticipating it, you’re fairly certain it’s going to be more intense than the last time.

“Oh, you’re so close,” he purrs. “I can feel that.”

Your breath stutters in your throat as you feel your body tense tighter and tighter, hurtling toward a glorious release.

But then just before you tip back over the edge, he stops, his hand stilling, lips pulling into a smirk. You let out a frustrated whine, your hips moving fruitlessly as you try to capture what had been so easily in your grasp mere seconds ago.

“Something you want, love?” he asks lightly, not even bothering to hide the laugh from his voice.

There’s some distant part of you that’s a little disappointed by how quickly you resort to begging, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now, not while you feel so wildly unsatisfied. “Please don’t stop, please.”

“Are you going to follow my instructions this time?” he asks. “Are you going to scream for me?”

“Yes, yes, please, I promise, please don’t stop, please, please—”

His fingers curl inside of you and begin moving again and you moan loudly, partly from relief and partly because you’re so close and can’t help it and partly because you don’t want him to stop again.

“Yes, that’s it, let me hear you,” he breathes.

Everything seems to slow as the building pressure in your hips suddenly crests and expands. You cry out—almost embarrassingly loudly—as your muscles spasm and release into a rush of feeling that makes your insides fizz. It seems to go on for ages, the aftershocks rolling through you, coaxed on by Loki’s still thrusting fingers and the soothing rumble of his low voice in your ear.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss against your neck.

You lean on his shoulder, your legs trembling as you try to catch your breath. He runs a hand down the column of your spine, gently pressing you against his chest.

You allow yourself to rest for a moment as he strokes your back, your head pillowed against his chest. It’s nice, sitting here like this, though you know you can’t allow yourself to become too sentimental, grow too attached. This is lovely, but temporary. You’d do well to remember that.

After a moment, you sit back up, leaning in to kiss him. He’s soft and languid in his movements—every time you try to draw him deeper, he resists just slightly, giving you just enough to make you long for him even more.

“Do you want more?” he asks, his lips barely moving from yours.

You’re well past the point of pride now. Sated and sweaty as you feel, there’s a lingering ache between your legs, a need for something more than what his fingers could provide. “Yes. Please,” you sigh, fingers tangling in his hair.

He presses a chaste kiss against your lips. “Come back tomorrow after dark.”

You pull back from him, frowning. “You’re not serious,” you say.

“I’m quite serious,” he says lightly, not quite able to hide the amusement from his expression. “I would hate to overexert you.”

Your eyes narrow. “My constitution is quite hearty, I assure you.”

He chuckles and slides out from underneath you. “I believe a very clever woman once told me that a little chase makes the conquest all the sweeter,” he says, standing.

You are not sure if you are more furious with him or with yourself. Of course that line would come back to bite you. Of course. You are slightly too distracted by your own fury and absentmindedly take his hand when he offers it to you.

“Perhaps I won’t be inclined to participate in the conquest,” you say sourly as you stand. “Perhaps I won’t return tomorrow.”

He leans in and kisses you, his tongue expertly parting your lips and returning some of the ardor that he had denied you earlier and that’s all it takes for you to immediately undercut your own point. You press wantonly against him, your fingers threading through his hair.

He is smirking when he pulls back. “I rather think you will.”

You scowl, knowing that he’s right.

Next chapter