Tag Archives: flash fiction

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At Wendy’s wedding in Kensington Garden, Captain James Hook attends.

After the ceremony, he corners the handsome young groom alone with a cigar, and a wedding gift.

Surprised– but certainly unwilling to be rude– the groom opens the box to find a small but significant collection of shining gold coins, Spanish in origin.

He looks up at the captain, quite stunned.

Hook gives the man a rather paternal smirk in answer, and taps him on the chest with the curved back of his hook.

“No long hours at the bank, understood?”

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Chris x Wesker ficlet. Under the cut for suggestive imagery, medical imagery. 220 words.

Chris felt an ache of lust that was almost painful between his legs, as Wesker straddled his lap.

The former STARS captain turned bioterrorist had a sadistic smirk twisted on his lips, his black glasses reflecting Chris’ bound form, his hands tied behind him in the chair he was strapped to.

Chris squirmed underneath him, as much as he could, humiliated to know that Wesker could certainly feel the thick bulge of his cock against the other man.

Wesker cupped his chin roughly with one gloved hand, and pulled his face up to look at him. He held a syringe in his other hand, brandishing it in Chris’ peripheral vision.

He stroked his lips with his thumb. “I hope you aren’t getting cold feet, Chris. Remember, you asked for this. Begged me not to leave you behind.”

A shiver crept through Chris’ body. It was true, even if it disgusted him. He had begged. And here was the result. He didn’t have cold feet, not exactly, but it was hard not to squirm. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, thinking about what Wesker was going to do to him.

He flushed, and looked away. But he stopped struggling.

Wesker patted Chris cheek fondly. “Good boy. Now, shall we begin?”

Chris felt the syringe press to his throat.

END

ao3 link in case of kudos.

Okay so if you have any to weigh in on the concept is like… I KNOW there’d be something spicy to a Yandare Dirk going after Alternian Royalty, a good ol’ red-violet blooded troll, but like… I cannot for the life of me apply anything to it.

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Our Dirk is actually in a relationship with @megaphonegirlk ’s Feferi, so we have the goods for you, anon.

Ficlet below the cut: cw stalking, pseudo-incest, forced captivity

In some ways, the Condesce was the only mother figure that Dirk had ever known. A terrifying vision of womanhood who lived in his dreams, and his nightmares.

When he saw Feferi the first time, the resemblance, and his attraction to her, were unmistakable and irresistible. She had to be his. But he couldn’t ignore how dangerous her type was. Measures would have to be taken.

He followed her at a distance at first. Watched her. Sent her gifts through the agency of others.

One night, finally, he slipped into her room and tied her down to her bed.

She woke up to find him humming gently, and brushing his fingers through her long hair.

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Chris x Wesker drabble. Under the cut because it’s sappy and pathetic.

When they bring Wesker back from the dead, the first thing Chris wants to know is if he has all his memories intact. The scientists assure him that Wesker does, and Chris doesn’t need to be told twice. He hauls off and decks Wesker right in the jaw. Wesker doesn’t even try to stop him.

Wesker doesn’t try to stop him either, when the next thing Chris does is fall against his chest and start crying. Chris hasn’t cried in years. The resurrected man puts his arms around him.

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Whenever Tinkerbell tries to be saucy and fluster captain Hook with her flirtatiousness, he turns the tables on her with a simple gesture. He shows her the crook of the pinkie finger on his good hand.

“Remember, Ms. Bell, Captain Hook is more man in his little finger than your Peter will ever be. And I can show you any time you like.”

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Karl Heisenberg can’t get sick in the normal way, but sometimes the mold surges or blooms in his body, and makes it feel like he has a bad cold. Coughing, sneezing, aches, fever, the works.

He hates it; it makes him feel like his body is physically falling apart, and he worries some time it will end in losing control of his human form.

When he gets like this, laying in bed, miserable and covered in blankets, Albert comes to comfort him quietly. A cup of tea, smoothing Karl’s hair.

Karl is pathetic like this, but Wesker can’t hate him for it. It reminds him of holding Jill in his arms after the fall, her neck broken, hanging in the fragile space between life and death, and needing to help her too.

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Wesker’s boots made a rhythmic noise as he strolled over the metallic grate of a floor that led to Heisenberg’s new lab.

The snarling and swearing became louder the closer he got, in addition to the sound of something beating against something metal.

Clearly, Karl was in an excellent mood tonight.

Albert shook his head almost imperceptibly, and strode into the lab– just in time to dodge a wrench as it came flying at his face.

“A warm welcome,” he intoned.

“Eh?” Heisenberg straightened up from the junk pile where he’d been hunched, and pushed up his hat to look at Wesker. “Didn’t see you there, Al. Sorry.”

The black clad blond strode further into the room and put a hand on Heisenberg’s shoulder. “Have you slept?”

“Have you?” Karl’s retort carried a petulant air.

“Hm.” Albert’s black gloved hand traced up Karl’s neck, and cupped his chin. “Come to bed with me, then.”

Heisenberg grinned, the bags under his eyes evident even with his sunglasses. “Make me.”

“You’re intolerable.” Albert pulled him into a rough kiss, intending it to be an opening move. But Karl melted against him into an embrace. Even more tired than he’d been letting on.