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deepperplexity · 1 year ago

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Prompt: 6. Out Of Care [C2]

Pairing: Turpin x fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Turpin

Setting: Turpin’s house

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Sharing

A/N: And we're back to our dear Judge Turpin this Wednesday! 😍👏 I'm honestly super excited about this story and feel my creativity brewing and bubbling like crazy this December - all the stories have me aching to write more 😂👏

Anyway, I'm hoping you're all in good spirits, that December is treating you nicely (kicking it in the tush if not) and that you're feeling ready for more Rickman content! 🥰❤ (Reminder, the Turpin serial for Rickmas2023 will get darker before we get the HEA)

Tags/TW’s: Regrett, Worry, Wanting Forgiveness, Reunion, Returning Home, Half-Admitting Feelings [Love, Fear, Hurt, Want], Changing For Another, Admitting To Wrongfulness/Selfishness, Pillow Hugging, Slightly Smutty Thoughts

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 3.1k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

The echo of the door slamming shut, the memory of stumbling down the stairs, it was all so fresh in your mind. It nearly felt as if it had just happened, a mere second ago, yet it had been two days. Your husband had been gone for two days, after a fight you had never imagined ever having. His words, those cold accusatory truths, made you shiver. The remnants of the revelation of how selfish you had been, how single-mindedly you had been viewing Christmas, and the whole thought process behind decorating your home for the holiday.

You shivered and glared at the overly decorated tree, it ought to have caught fire with the intensity of your eyes — it did not, of course, burst into flames. “I did warn you, me Lady,” said Miss Lowel as she sat a tray of tea down on the table in the drawing room. “His Lordship does not take the holidays lightly, me Lady.” “You don’t say…” you murmured with a snark in your voice. “Could have been worse, me Lady. Could have put you out.” “Instead he abandoned our home. Me.” “Me Lady?” You looked toward her. “Does the lady… Do me Lady fancy his Lordship?” she asked timidly, her hands held tightly before her while a look of trepidation and something close to disgust flitted across her sweet features.

You sighed, averting your gaze to the hearth and the glowing embers within it. Is there a point in denying it any longer? If I didn’t, I wouldn’t feel so… sad… “Yes, Miss Lowel. I-, I do,” you said quietly. “I think… I think perhaps I may have come to like the man, a bit.” A lot… Miss Lowel smiled, but it was a forced sort of thing. “I see, me Lady.” “Not that it matters, the man could never feel a thing for me, I’m not sure he’s capable of feelings of a positive nature.” “Oh, I don’t know about that, me Lady. His Lordship is quite… different with you.” “Ha, funny, Miss Lowel, very funny,” you said dryly, reaching for the teacup. “He barely speaks a word to me, at dinner he does not so much as hold half a conversation with me, he always storms off to his study, to the court, away from me.” “His Lordship eats dinner at home, he quietly watches you speak, he offers space and no forced proximity, apart from insisting on sharing a bed but, if I may be so bold, I dare say there’s been no coercion inside the bedroom, me Lady?”

Your eyes bulged at her brazen words and forward manner. She spoke the truth though. So you nodded. “I dare say that is quite the change from the man I have served these past four years, me Lady.” “How so?” you asked while sipping your tea, endeavouring to not appear too hungry for information about the man who grasped your heart tighter with each passing day.

“Neither of the things I just mentioned would have been connected to His Lordship before your arrival miss. I do not think I’ve once served him dinner at home before ten in the evening before your arrival, me Lady, and even those times were rarities. This was not a place he remained for more time than necessary. And conversation within this house, no, that was not a possibility, yet you are given time to speak, not simply to reply to commands. Me Lord even listens, that is quite something, me Lady.”

You looked at her, wondering if she’d lost her mind — had too much eggnog perhaps? “That’s silly, Miss Lowel.” “Silly? His Lordship has changed with your arrival.” “I highly doubt it has anything to do with me, the man is brutal and cold. Unfeeling. I will not even attempt to pretend to possess any value for him beyond being his wife as the daughter of an upstanding and wealthy family. He seems to be a man completely out of care for anyone and anything, I am no different to him than any other person.” Miss Lowel bowed her head with a straight face. “If you say so, me Lady. I do not possess the frankness to contradict your words.” The maid left the room while your thoughts whispered, you just did.

***

The last piece of Christmas decore landed in the sack by your feet. The house was restored to its less festive state after a couple of hours of your hard work. It had taken longer to put it all up than take it down, down was easy, especially with a simmer of anger and hurt in your muscles which had forced you to move faster.

You wouldn’t admit to it, but you hoped he’d return and you’d be forgiven for what you’d unwittingly done. Your intentions had been good, but Richard’s view of it all had changed your perspective of your actions. He hadn’t been wrong, you hadn’t talked with him, asked him, or even thought of taking his input on decorating the house. But, how could you have known the man didn’t like Christmas?

He may hold no care for me, or anyone else in the world, but I can still care for him. Can I not? I can still change and do things out of care for him even if it’s not reciprocated. But you knew it would be a difficult task, loving and caring for someone who housed none of that love or care in return, but you were a stubborn person. Once you set your mind to something you refuse to back down or give up until you have enough evidence to show something was an impossibility. Perhaps that was why you had been used by people you believed to be your friends, even family, before?

You had dragged the sack back to the attic, locking the door again before heading toward the drawing room where you plopped down in a graceless heap on the sofa. Miss Lowel had stoked the fire recently it seemed so you soaked up the warmth by pointing your feet toward the hearth, watching the flames dance while your heart turned heavier.

You had no idea where Richard had gone, he had said he would not return until after Christmas to give you your holiday cheer but you had never felt as dreary or sad in December before. Especially now, with no holiday cheer to be found in your home. It felt utterly wrong, but the way Richard had reacted and how he had felt when seeing all the decorations you’d spent the entire day putting up had been worse. That you’d hurt him made you feel beyond heavy, no matter if it was on purpose or not. He’d been hurt, and you had for the first time gotten to hear of his emotions — how he saw it all.

“Sharing, as in taking the liberty to completely alter my one sanctuary without so much as a word with me beforehand? Sharing seems to be all, about, you,” he had seethed two days ago, for the first time truly sharing how he felt and it had hurt you deeply. Admittedly, in the moment, you had felt hurt yourself by his words but now, with some time to think of it all and look at it from his viewpoint, you felt horrible at having caused him harm.

What did he mean by his sanctuary? You didn’t quite understand that, he didn’t act as if his home was a sanctuary. Did he mean from the holiday? I mean, all of London is filled with Christmas cheer — carols, decorations, happier people, all the markets and — Your mind turned quiet as you understood what he’d meant.

Christmas was inescapable. One foot out the door and there was a carol floating on the wind, the smell of roasted chestnuts, someone ringing a bell for donations to the poor during the time a year of giving and gifting. The holiday was tangible everywhere, oppressively so if one disliked it… To give up the holiday wasn’t a possibility for you, though. You’d celebrate, but perhaps you didn’t need to do so in a way that reached or imposed itself on your husband — after all, Christmas wasn’t actually about the decorations, the songs, the food, or even the gifts. No, it was about a feeling, a sense of hope and joy, a warmth on the inside rather than sparkling surroundings.

You stood up, patting down your dress. “I can do that. But, how do I tell him I took it all down?” You nibbled your bottom lip, wondering if your husband was at court perhaps — it was Wednesday after all. “Should I even bother him? Can I go to him?” His angry features, his cold eyes, the harsh tone of his voice — it all told you you couldn’t. Richard was a man who made his own choices, took his own decisions, and as far as you knew he never went back on his word.

He had declared he’d be back after Christmas, perhaps all you had to do was wait for time to pass, respecting his choice? You’d already overstepped so greatly it felt as if seeking him out would only enrage him, perhaps forever close off the slightest possibility he’d ever grow close to you as you had grown to truly like him. You dared not think the feelings you had for the man were even deeper than that; if you admitted to it things would become far too hard to endure. You had had hope the feelings were mutual, the difference between the man you had heard of before wedding him and the man he was around you were far different from each other.

You sighed and looked at the clock, it struck eleven and it was time to sleep. You moved through the silent house, halting by the guest room, a sense of lacking enveloped you as your fingers lingered on the knob. You glanced down the hall, toward the door leading into your shared bedroom. You missed him. Missed sleeping next to him, and as Miss Lowel had pointed out there had never been anything more than sleep happening in there since you moved in. He’d never forced you, never asked you, never even so much as changed in the same room. He’d respected you, and your privacy, only sharing a bed through sleep. Why it was like that you didn’t quite know, your husband had been known to take whores before your wedding but not once had you noticed such a thing happening after you became his wife.

Your face mushed against his pillow a few minutes later. You inhaled his distinct scent, a shiver slid down your back before you squeezed the feather-filled thing. You curled up in a ball for a moment under his cover, thinner than yours but comforting despite not fully keeping you warm. “I miss you,” you whispered and inhaled deeply, feeling yourself go heavy by the comfort of his scent.

⩤• Turpin •⩥

The wind tugged at the ends of his hair peeking out beneath his top hat. The house lay nearly dark, save for one single candle in the window of his bedroom. The bedroom he shared with you. There were differences to when he had stormed out of the house though. The curtains were changed back to their ordinary ones, there were no longer any decorations in the windows from what he could tell, empty as usual.

The cold had begun to slip inside his clothes, yet he remained on the sidewalk across the road — watching his house in a tense silence. For two days he had stewed over his reaction, his behaviour towards you when you had so obnoxiously obviously been exuberantly happy about decorating the house for Christmas. Everywhere his eyes had gone there had been reminders. Old decorations, from his time as a boy when joy was as far from Christmas as one could get despite the house being abysmally drenched in beautiful decorations looking to spark a sense of awe. All it ever meant for him were dread, loneliness, and pretending.

His family, rich and well-off as it was, had no real riches beyond money and status. His mother was a shell of a human, his father a devil of cruelty, his brother a demon of wickedness, and his sister… dead. The one who had been a joy, had died far too young, and what little love there had been in the mansion of a house went with her.

He shrugged, flexing his fingers within the leather gloves to bring some blood and warmth back to the tips. His eyes remained fixed on the dreary-looking house, darker than others along the street with not so much as a glimmer of a sparkle or flicker of an ornate lantern anywhere to be found. It had his jaw clenching as he thought of the sparkle that had been in your eyes before he’d snuffed it out with words of cruelty. Honest words, yet cruel in their harsh nature.

His spine stiffened as the curtain flickered in the bedroom. Mrs Lowel appeared, blowing out the candle, and given her timid motions he guessed you lay fast asleep in the bed he usually shared with you. Our bed, our home, my wife… My sweet wife… He drew a deep breath and marched towards the door on stiff legs while his mind ran rampant — wondering if you could forgive his outburst and rage, his words and behaviour. You were a joy in his dark life, and as he opened the door that very darkness seemed to glare at him.

All your work, all your thoughts, all your sparkling wonder; all of it was gone. He found not a single shred of tinsel, not even a lonesome garland remained as he removed his cloak and snow-covered boots, stepping into a pair of slippers while looking all around him at the utter lack of Christmas. That you listened and possibly respected him enough to remove it all made a warmth bloom in the pit of his stomach where a knot had formed over the whole situation. I usually do not care. I am not a caring man. I am not a man who cares for others’ emotions, yet, I find myself caring for yours most deeply. Disturbing business.

He moved up the stairs, his steps heavy yet quiet. His heart beat harder for each stride while his hand glided along the railing — partly for support as he felt himself waver at the possibility you may not be able to forgive him. Or, worse, you would possibly only do so with an explanation, a tale of his past he never wished to divulge.

He quietly opened the door, his body tense and his face set in a stoic mask as he struggled for the control he nearly always held a firm grasp of. When his eyes landed on your sleeping form, curled up on his side of the bed with his pillow held in a vice grip against your chest half buried under his cover, his heart stuttered and his body stiffened.

You were beautiful, angelic in your sleep, and he had to resist the urge exploding within his body as it had done every day since you became his wife. He yearned to touch each part of you, kiss each sliver of skin, caress each dip and mound, and explore every aspect of your body in its entirety. Months upon months had passed since he last took pleasure from another body. Ever since he vowed before God and congregation, before you, to be your faithful husband he had not touched or even looked at another woman. You were the only one for him, yet your innocence had proven a difficult thing to conquer. His own sins were like long shadows keeping him away, forcing him to wait for you to come to him willingly. He had tried, by God and Heaven, he had tried to be kind and caring, thoughtful and patient, yet you had not come to him still.

He stepped up to the bed, his eyes roaming your outline, and reached out his still-cold hand. His fingers graced your cheek, stroking away a tendril of hair so utterly soft to the touch he twirled it once between his fingers before letting go. “Sweet wife,” he whispered and just barely stopped himself from leaning in to kiss you. You stirred at his deep voice. “Richard?” you asked, your eyes blinking away the haze of sleep while he stood over you with nothing but his willpower to respect and be kind towards you keeping him in place while he watched your eyes clear — sleepy, to happy, to sad. It tore at his heart that your eyes no longer sparkled like last time he had come home.

“I took it down,” you whispered, your voice a meek sound. “I saw.” “Will you stay now?” He blinked at that, his brain addled with worry and an uncomfortable amount of desperation to hold you close. He was far too enchanted, in far too deep when it came to you. Not that he could verbally admit that. “I will,” he said, his voice a quiet drone while he attempted to keep himself in control. “Will you—” “I’ll move,” you said before he could ask for your forgiveness, and you shimmied out from his cover while laying his pillow in its proper place before situating yourself on your side of the bed. Not once did you expose any part of your nightdress-clad body — to his utter dismay and relief at the same time.

“I won’t look,” you whispered while turning around to face the window, giving him your back. He wished to turn you over again, make you watch him undress, make you see what you always did to his anatomy. But he did not. He watched the back of your head with growing agony and want, with a wish for forgiveness he could not quite bring himself to ask for now that his body burned with lust despite the cold sadness you emitted. I am a lesser man, thinking of ravaging you at a time like this. I will not yield to it, love. I vowed to myself you would be the one to come to me. If I so perish without ever having felt your warmth, it shall be so.

He slipped on his nightshirt and slunk in under the cover, keeping space between you both. The warmth you left behind, the wonderful scent now embedded on his side of the bed, made his entire body turn rigid. You were perfection, and now he may have ruined whatever chance he had so painstakingly long worked to gain. He drew a deep breath, your warmth and closeness offering relief of the acutest kind, and fell asleep in a matter of seconds. Too drained to remain in the moment, too comforted by your closeness to resist the relaxation. The knot in his stomach was ignored for the moment as dreams slipped in with nothing but you in them.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Uffh, these two have me in such a grip - and their story isn't quite at the HEA yet 👀 I'm kinda itching to make Y/n a bit more fierce, after all, her emotions are running rampant and Richard isn't really in control of his emotional state either - they have a lot to figure out between themselves and perhaps we ought to throw in another curveball or two to really make them argue (or perhaps bang) it out? 🤔🤭❤

Q: Do you have any tradition of your own around this time of year that you always keep? A: I have a few, one of my longest-running ones is being the one to put up and decorate the Christmas tree (the first weekend of December since I moved out of my childhood home). I've been in charge of doing the tree since I was a teenager and I've always loved it 🥰🎄✨

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Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #judge turpin #turpin x reader #judge turpin fanfic #alan rickman #rickmaniac #rickmas

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smilingformoney · 1 year ago

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Sins of the Flesh

III. His Ardent and Eager Slave

Summary: Judge Turpin raised Johanna since she was a baby, and still she betrays him. Fortunately for him, he already has a devoted, broken-in pet in his bed: you.

Warnings/content: rape/non-con, abusive relationship, stockholm syndrome, voyeurism, mention of STIs, riding, pet names, drunk sex, public sex, bedding ceremony, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

Read now on Ao3.

#sweeney todd #judge turpin #turpin x reader #alan rickman #sweeney todd fanfic #alan rickman fanfic #judge turpin fanfic #dead dove

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korpuskristae · 5 months ago

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Verdict

Warnings: 18+, Smut, public sex, blowjobs, slight femdom, language, mentions of past injuries

Pairing: Fem Reader x Judge Turpin

Word Count: 2600+

Summary: Once Turpin's whore, you find yourself in the position of his wife, although with your new status as Lady Turpin, you find yourself still lacking the manners usually expected of a high-ranking Lady such as yourself. AKA: I had too much fun writing this and got carried away...

AN: I started tweaking at a concert I went to last month because the guy in front of me had long hair and a big nose... I have a type, to say the least... Anyway, I make do with my promises, even if it takes me three whole months. Requests are open, so feel free to drop something in my requests, keep in mind I write at my own discretion. Be wary of spelling and grammar errors! Point them out so I can fix them :) !!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

In the eyes of Victorian London, Lord Turpin and you, Lady Turpin, were amongst London’s most unusual couples. Your relationship came not long after Richard lost his ward, Beadle, and nearly his life after a brush with Benjamin Barker, a lowly barber he sent away on false charges who miraculously, found his way back even after being sent to Australia to serve out a life sentence of harsh manual labor. Richard emerged from the events, not as the man London had once trusted implicitly, but as a man teetering on the edge of mania, grasping at what little fragments of sanity he had left. Returning to the bench a mere three weeks after his attempted assassination, the subjects of London couldn’t help but notice a change in their infallible judge. Almost every circle in London was whispering about the shift in the judge’s demeanor and it didn’t take long for the doubt of his competency to reach his ears causing his already harsh sentences to become even crueler and unpredictable, casting a further darkening shadow over his once-certain judgment.

Most people expected everything to return to normal once the judge’s attacker had been brought to justice, after all, as a judge of the high court in service to her Majesty the Queen, he reserved the right to convict and sentence whoever dared to cross him, or the law. He was by definition, untouchable… Yet in the case of Sweeney Todd’s attempt on his life, it seemed that Lady Justice had already dealt her hand, taking Todd for herself, depriving the judge of the cruel justice he so desperately desired to feel in control. Spiraling further into a dark path of retribution that bordered on obsessive, Richard was a mere shell of the proud man he once was, seemingly falling further into the clutches of insanity with every passing day.

After being compelled to step back from the bench due to mounting public concern for his mental health and well-being, he was granted a month to rest and recover. One whole month—a dangerous opportunity to ruminate on his unexamined consciousness that Richard was not eager to take. By no means had Richard attempted to fix his wrongdoings, he was a bad man, an unjust, and cruel man who wielded the law as a weapon of his desires. He was a sinner, a liar, and a reprobate. He attended church only to enjoy the company of a whore the very next hour, he knew his life was one big contradiction. And still, he clung to the illusion that as a judge, he stood above the law and public opinion, he was a judge who answered to no one but himself, believing his actions bore no consequence beyond his own scrutiny.

In the wake of Richard’s recovery from the attempt that nearly claimed his life, your relationship, and subsequent marriage, seemed to unfold at lightning speed. The fact that Richard had forsaken many a beautiful, and no doubt rich, highborn lady for you, irked the British aristocracy who were all throwing their daughters at the judge to have even a chance of marrying into the esteemed house of Turpin. It would’ve been one thing if you two were young lovers but your scandalized affair only grew more scandalous as people started to frequently draw attention to the fact that you had, practically, in the eyes of the public, not existed at all, prior to your engagement.

The last woman Richard had shown any interest in was Lucy Barker, but even then, it was public knowledge he merely lusted after her, his longing for her was based not on feelings of love but ones of conquest and control, seeing her as a prize to be won. But his feelings for you seemed to stem from an unknown source… one that was less centered around himself and his personal motives.

In a society that prized status and reputation above all, Richard’s marriage to you, someone deemed “lowly” in the public’s eye, sent shockwaves through the cobbled streets of London. Unshaken by the public’s doubt of his choice of wife, Richard managed to pull out all the stops for your wedding, wasting no expense on the extravagant affair, with nearly every citizen near and far from London clamoring to attend the wedding. As guests observed the warmth in his gaze, they began to piece together a narrative that suggested genuine love that transcended societal boundaries. It wasn’t long before the public, hungry for scandal, sought to uncover the mysterious story behind your unusual romance.

The story given to the public was that you were one of the nursemaids who had so gracefully nursed him to back him to health, lovingly tending to him and eventually falling in love with him. While that story couldn’t be further from the truth, every tall tale had some grain of truth to it, certainly no nursemaid, granted, you did tend to him, in a much more… intimate way than originally specified, you two were indeed a rare occurrence of genuine love. Initially, you were just a contract—an arrangement for the night, a whore, to put it crudely. Once you, rather, he finished, you had noticed him wincing in pain along with the stiff movements of his neck, originally wary of the notoriously foul-tempered judge, you, strangely enough, found yourself hesitating to leave. Despite being expected to leave as soon as you two were finished, you couldn’t just leave him to suffer like that. This man, one who commanded London’s High Court with an iron fist now laid bedridden, his physical wounds matched only by a wounded pride. His growls and biting remarks about you staying to offer him help sounded more like thinly veiled pleas for help, revealing a side of the judge that he himself even resented, one that was weak.

Not even half a year later you were the highly feared and equally esteemed, Lady Turpin. While the fear came from your husband’s reputation, you yourself were quite the opposite of him. Instead of intimidating people to get your way, you often made use of your snarky wit and cleverness, a trait that Richard himself found endearing and discovered proved far more useful from time to time when intimidation wasn’t a viable option.

Seated at his bench, high above the court giving him the illusion of an almost godly appearance, Richard sat, tall and rigid. Dressed in his black robes, the long wig he wore—an obligation of his station—itchingly reminded him of the traditions he had little patience for. Leering at the people entering his courtroom he huffed uninterestedly. While his wife had managed to salvage his sanity and coax a flicker of gentleness from him, she could not penetrate the fortress he built around himself in public. Fixing his posture, he moved only to accidentally bump something underneath his bench with his knee, seeing you, his wife there, he glared at you kneeling between his legs. Smirking up at him with a lustful haze in your eyes, you placed your hands on his knees slowly parting them as you winked at him.

Grumbling, he snarled at you without any real venom behind his words, “What the devil are you doing?”

Currently sat in front of a fully occupied court he had to preside over, you clearly had no sense of decorum when it came to respecting the authority that Richard had, slowly parting his robe at his waist, you placed your hands over his pants, palming his already growing erection. The ruthless judge, so quick to condemn others, quite literally, was nothing more than putty in your mere presence.

“Taking care of my husband, of course, you must be so stressed, huh? All those responsibilities… my dear judge, my poor, poor judge,” you purred softly, your fingers tracing languid circles on his thighs. The heat emanating from his arousal was unmistakable and he was clearly getting impatient but you ignored him for the time being keeping the tension high.

Growling lowly, he narrowed his eyes at you grabbing your hand and placing it on his clothed cock, “Do not play games you little minx, if you want to act like this then carry through with your teasing,” he demanded gruffly.

“Oh, my…” you gasped, feigning shock, “right now? Dare you disrespect the sanctity of this here court?” God you were such a tease, how was he ever expected to behave around you when you acted like this? So clearly reveling in your role as an unrelenting tease… if he was in hell, you were most certainly the demon sent to torture him till the end of his days.

Snarling at you, Richard tangled one of his hands in your hair, a firm grip that asserted control without causing discomfort. “Careful now, love. Keep with that insolent tongue of yours and I'll put it to far better use," he growled with an arch of his perfectly manicured eyebrow, his threat laced with a hint of desire.

Laughing lowly, you slowly dragged your fingers up his inner thighs before reaching his zipper and freeing him from the confines of his awfully tight trousers. Already rock hard, his cock was thicker than your wrist and his tip was an angry red color with a small bead of precum leaking from it, a testament to his undying lust for you. “So impatient and rude… you’re supposed to be a Lord, my love, one with manners who treats ladies with respect,” you chided dramatically not caring to whisper considering the courtroom was still settling in.

“Last time I checked ladies don’t terrorize their husbands multiple times a day for sex,” he grumbled letting out a low sigh of relief, feeling the pressure lessen on his aching cock. Eyeing you, he huffed in amusement as a smirk played at his lips, watching you blink up at him innocently. A little actress you were, one who was anything but what she pretended to be.

Grabbing his cock, you slowly stroked it, watching as his face contorted in pleasure, not explicitly as he was still seated in front of a room full of people, but enough for you to get the satisfaction of seeing him unravel slightly. Exhaling a long drawn out strained sigh, he spoke gruffly, evidently, trying to have some restraint. “What a naughty little thing you are, playing with your husband's cock so brazenly in a courtroom full of people…”

Running your thumb over the tip of his cock, you heard his breathing hitch and felt him cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it lovingly. Letting out a small whimper, he felt you take him into your mouth and swirl your hot tongue around the edge of his tip, tasting his salty precum on your tongue, savoring its slight musky taste. “Yes, mhm… just like that my love…” he hissed, his grip on your hair growing tighter as he pushed you down further onto his cock, forcing you to take him deeper.

Letting out a strangled squeak, you glared up at him with a mouthful of his cock as tears pricked your eyes. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased slowly bobbing you up and down his girthy shaft.

Hearing the thunderous boom of the courthouse doors opening, Richard glanced up to see the defendant being ushered into the courthouse by a guard from the jail. He barely glanced at the list of accusations before re-establishing his cold, detached expression. As if he wasn’t being serviced by his wife at that very moment.

Richard raised his eyes and immediately the court fell silent, making the usage of his gavel redundant. He struck it lightly for the sake of formality before he cleared his throat, resting his hand atop your head to signal you to stop your ministrations. “You are being charged with petty larceny and the garrotting of several women, what say you in defense of these charges?” he said, his booming voice reverberating through the courtroom, fixing a cold glare at the defendant. How dare he ignore you! Use you for his pleasure and tell you to stop at his own convenience? God, he was way too privileged!

Glaring at him, as you kneeled on the floor, your eyes flashed with anger and defiance, Richard, ever so oblivious didn’t seem to notice the anger radiating from beneath him. Ignoring his wishes for you to halt your movements, you started to bob up and down again, swirling your tongue around his shaft just the way you knew he liked it, feeling him throb against your tongue, you glanced up at him cheekily as he glowered at you. Consequences be damned, you were no convenience, and you certainly weren’t controlled by him!

Barely stifling a moan, Richard’s thighs tensed as he fought to keep his composure. Watching the defendant bow his head in defeat, he heard him profess his guilt, “I plead guilty and ask you for your mercy, your honor.” If he didn’t have a little minx between his legs he’d sneer at the fool in front of him for even thinking he’d be merciful.

Feeling you take him deeper, he watched as your hand reached up to wrap around the base of his shaft to pump what you couldn't fit in your mouth, with his breathing growing ragged, he only hoped that nobody could see his very obviously flustered state. His grip on your hair only grew tighter as he tensed further, his muscles pulled taut as he felt his orgasm approach rapidly.

Realizing the entire courtroom was awaiting his verdict, he coughed, trying to cover up any of the obvious hints of his arousal, “The jury will deliberate and your fate will be announced at a later court date, this court is adjourned.” He said banging his gavel before watching everyone file out of the courthouse in confusion.

The Esteemed Juge Turpin, widely revered and equally feared, had rarely relied on a jury—his rulings were law, laws he often wrote without deliberation. Murmurs filled the courtroom as the gallery began to question whether or not even Richard was second-guessing himself. The reason behind his stalling was, in truth, much simpler than what they suspected. Richard was merely just a pawn in his wife’s new uptaking of mischief and suffering the consequences.

After everyone filed out and left, Richard’s head fell back against his chair as you continued to suck him off. “You are so dead-” he groaned, not even able to finish his snarky comment as he felt his cock throb with his impending orgasm. With a strangled gasp and a deep guttural groan, Richard’s hips bucked into you as he came hard, his seed spilling down your throat in thick, hot, spurts that even you struggled to keep up with. After his orgasm subsided, you released his cock with a wet pop, the sound reverberating through the empty courtroom.

Slumping back against his chair, you watched with a satisfied smile as he struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving. Tucking him back into his pants, you heard him hiss, his cock was incredibly oversensitive after that mindblowing orgasm no doubt. Standing up, you dusted off your dress, looking at him with a wicked smirk, “Hmph, what was that love?”

Sneering at you with half-lidded eyes, Richard huffed, unable to punish you for the time being, “Your arse is going to be so red when I get my hands on you,” he rasped out, watching you saunter away. He was so going to get you back tenfold, despite his mostly playful annoyance, deep down, he couldn’t deny the obvious satisfaction he got from surrendering his control to you…

AN: First time writing smut, how'd I do? ;)

#judge turpin #turpin #sweeney todd #alan rickman fanfic #alan rickman #turpin fanfic #If you were that hot guy at the rob zombie concert PLEASE CALL ME #jk jk jk jk jk #or not....#Turpin smut

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sweeneyarts · 1 year ago

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Here's some recent artwork I've done for the Sweeney Todd fanfiction I'm working on with my friend:

Featuring my original character, Rose, who is the main character alongside Sweeney. And also the rest of my original characters like the police chief, Hugh Janvier.

You can read their story now on Ao3 and Wattpad. Updated every Saturday morning at 12am.

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allycat319 · 2 years ago

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New Story on Wattpad and Ao3

Hey everyone!!!

Just posted my new Judge Turpin fic on Wattpad and Ao3!

Wattpad

Archive of Our Own

#alan rickman #judge turpin #fanfic #judgeturpinxoc #original character #sweeney todd

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muiitoloko · 2 months ago

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Opinion on Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics? Could see either Turpin or Nottingham finding out the read is an omega and doing everything in their power to make her his so he can take her in a heat and claim her as his. For Turpin just cause, for Nottingham because either she’s actually a magic user or related to the king (I dgaf about historical accuracy, if they can make king Richard lionheart care about England (which he didn’t the man HATED the country he ruled over), then I can say he has a relative who’d do Nottingham lmao)

Title: Bound to the Alpha

Summary: In a world of betas and omegas, a young woman’s coming-of-age celebration sparks the possessive instincts of a powerful alpha, leading to a dangerous game of desire and dominance.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Obsession

Author's Notes: Honestly, there aren't many fanfics like this in Brazil, so I know very little about these dynamics, but I gave it a shot and wrote a little imagine for Turpin. I even tried to do the same for the sheriff, but, well, laziness got the better of me 😅.

Also read on Ao3

Turpin stood at the edge of the grand ballroom, watching the festivities unfold around him. The celebration was in full swing, the room filled with laughter, music, and the mingling scents of various omegas and betas. But among the crowd, one scent stood out, a tantalizing aroma that beckoned him, stirring the alpha within. His hazel eyes darkened with desire as they locked onto you, the source of that irresistible fragrance.

You were surrounded by other omegas, laughing and chatting, completely unaware of the way your presence was affecting him. Turpin had known your family for years, and while he had seen you in passing, he had never paid much attention to you. After all, your parents were notoriously protective, hardly ever allowing you to venture out into society. You were their cherished cub, hidden away from the world.

But tonight was different. Tonight, your parents had thrown a grand party in your honor—a coming-of-age celebration for their beautiful daughter, now a young omega in full bloom. And as you stood there in the soft candlelight, your scent filling the room, Turpin finally understood why they had kept you so sheltered. You were exquisite, a vision of youth and beauty, your omega scent weaving through the air like the most intoxicating perfume, calling to the primal alpha instincts deep within him.

He swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as his gaze roamed over your form. Your dress, modest by all accounts, did little to hide the soft curves of your body, the gentle swell of your breasts, and the delicate lines of your waist. But it was your scent—rich, warm, and undeniably omega—that truly drove him wild. It seeped into his mind, clouding his thoughts, filling him with the overwhelming need to claim you, to mark you as his own.

Turpin's fingers tightened around the glass of wine in his hand as he imagined it—his body pressing you up against the cold, stone walls of his estate, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck as he marked you, leaving no doubt that you belonged to him. He could already hear the sweet sound of your whimpers, your voice breathless with need as you begged for him, your heat making you desperate for an alpha to take you, to fill you.

He could feel the tension building inside him, the pull of the alpha instincts becoming almost unbearable as he watched you from across the room. His hooked nose flared slightly as he took in another deep breath of your scent, his hazel eyes narrowing with barely contained hunger. How could he have been so blind before? How could he have overlooked the treasure that had been hidden away in plain sight?

A part of him wanted to march across the room, to take you right then and there, to claim what was his in front of everyone. But no. He would not rush this. You were the daughter of his friends, and this required patience, subtlety. He would have you—of that, he was certain—but it would be on his terms, in his time. And when the moment came, you would beg for it. You would beg for him.

He watched as one of the younger omegas brushed against you, making you laugh, your cheeks flushed with the innocence of youth. The sight of it sent a surge of possessiveness through him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. That omega had no right to be near you, no right to even breathe the same air as you. You were meant for a true alpha, one who could protect and provide for you, one who would give you the life you deserved.

One who would claim you completely.

Turpin’s mind wandered to the future, imagining you in the throes of your heat, writhing beneath him, your body slick and ready for him. He could already hear the way you would moan his name, your hands clawing at his back as he pushed into you, filling you over and over until you were marked, claimed, and utterly his. The thought made his blood boil with lust, the alpha inside him roaring to the surface, demanding to be let free.

But Turpin was a man of control, and tonight was not the night for rash decisions. No, tonight, he would observe, bide his time. He would allow you to enjoy your party, to bask in the attention of those around you. But soon—very soon—he would make his move. And when he did, you would know exactly what it meant to belong to an alpha like him.

Turpin’s predatory gaze remained fixed on you, savoring the way your every movement seemed to draw his attention more and more. He imagined you in his bed, your scent filling the air of his grand, stone-walled estate, already carrying his pups—belly round and full, just as nature intended. His lips curled slightly, his thoughts spiraling into darker fantasies. The vision of you begging for his knot—his knot, no other’s—flashed through his mind. You’d be so sweet, so utterly devoted to pleasing him, building a nest for his pups, for your alpha. He could almost hear the soft, submissive pleas leaving your lips.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden presence of Beadle Bamford at his side. The beta male’s tentative approach grated on Turpin’s nerves. Beadle hesitated, shifting uncomfortably before clearing his throat.

“My lord,” Beadle stammered, his voice betraying his unease. “I, uh, thought perhaps you might like to... inspect the preparations for—”

Turpin’s sharp hazel eyes flicked toward him, narrowing dangerously. His fingers tightened around the stem of his wine glass. He loathed interruptions, especially when his mind was filled with such delicious thoughts of you.

With a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest, Turpin tilted his head slightly, just enough to pin Beadle with a glare. The beta male visibly cringed under the weight of his gaze, his body instinctively shrinking back, as if he could sense the alpha’s displeasure.

“What is it, Beadle?” Turpin’s voice was a low, dark baritone, thick with suppressed irritation.

Beadle gulped, his eyes darting to the floor as he shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I... I only wished to inform you that everything is in place for the—”

“Silence,” Turpin hissed, his voice sharp as a blade. He took a deliberate step forward, looming over the smaller beta. “Do not presume to interrupt me again. If I want something from you, I will tell you.”

The beta male’s shoulders hunched as he took an involuntary step back, his entire demeanor one of submission and fear. Turpin could smell it on him—the scent of a lesser male, a beta who knew his place, who knew that his only role was to serve his betters. The scent of Beadle’s fear made Turpin’s lip curl in contempt.

Satisfied that Beadle had gotten the message, Turpin turned his gaze back to you, once again allowing his mind to drift to darker, more carnal thoughts. You, the perfect omega, so untouched, so pure, would be his. You would carry his pups—plump and swollen with his seed, your body begging for his knot, desperate to be claimed. He could already imagine the way you would cry out for him, clawing at his shoulders as he filled you over and over, ensuring that you would never carry another alpha’s pups.

You would belong solely to him, and the rest of the world would know it.

He clenched his jaw as the image of you flashed through his mind: heavy with his pups, your hands protectively cradling your swollen belly, while you nested in the home he would build for you. You would fuss over every detail, making it perfect for the life growing inside of you—his pups. You would glow with the radiance of an omega fulfilling her purpose, nurturing and caring for the next generation of alphas he would sire.

The thought of you like that—your body ready, aching for him—made the primal alpha within him stir. You wouldn’t just beg for him during your heat; you would plead for his knot, cry out for it, knowing it was the only thing that could truly satisfy the burning need inside of you. You would be slick, needy, ready to take him in any way he desired, submitting completely to his dominance.

Turpin’s hand tightened around the stem of his wine glass again, his knuckles white. Soon, you would be his. And when the time came, you would know exactly what it meant to belong to an alpha like him—an alpha who would claim you, mark you, and make you beg for more.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin

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toshisurtsdottir · 10 months ago

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Rape and Retribution - Chapter 1

Yesterday, I asked if you'd like to read my Turpin fanfic. I decided that I'd upload it, see how it goes and if it goes well I'll keep posting it :) Technically, it's finished BUT there are a lot of scenes in between that are missing which I might add - we'll see. OH AND: It's kinda fluffy?? But also pretty dark. Idk. Find out I guess haha WARNINGS (for the entire fanfic): mentions of rape, rape, mentions of violent torture, violence, death, murder, NSFW ... and many more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary: Toshi Vernier has a plan for her future. To gain her freedom, she has to get in contact with the ruthless Judge Turpin. He has other plans for her.

On the bustling streets of London, a thief could easily walk past dozens of people unnoticed by any of them. Today, Toshi had no intention of stealing, however. She had something else in mind entirely, something that was part one of her big path to freedom. The young woman was dressed up in men’s clothes: grey pants, an off-white blouse and a grey vest. Her long, white hair was hidden beneath a hat that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. From afar, one might say that she was just a small man going about his business. A bit shady looking perhaps, but that was the usual.

She was stalking around the courthouse, waiting patiently for Judge Turpin to emerge. She knew he would sooner than later. She had studied his behaviour for a few days now, finding out his schedule. Right on time, the heavy doors swung open and two men emerged. The tall judge, wearing a long coat that would make anyone else who wore it seem small. It seemed to be working the opposite on him, it just made him taller. Next to him, the Beadle. Beadle Bamford was a small man, rattish and always on the judge’s heels. Toshi eyed the Beadle angrily. He was one of the men who had, once or twice, taken her father’s offer to use Toshi’s body for their own pleasure. Toshi didn’t remember how often he had had her, she usually erased these encounters from her memory. But she knew he had taken her at least once. As she stared at him, her jaw and fists clenched, she failed to notice that the Beadle had bid the judge goodbye and was now headed the opposite direction. She almost wasted her chance as Turpin made his way down the main street, nearly getting swallowed in the crowd. Toshi snapped out of it and shook her head, snaking her way through the masses of people until she could almost reach him. She would follow him until he was in a more secluded place, then she would talk to him. She had trouble keeping up with the man. People got out of his way (he was a person of power after all) but they kept getting in Toshi’s. Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to keep up, Turpin turned into a less frequented street. This was her chance.

“Judge Turpin! My Lord!” She called out, quickly jogging up to him. Clearly irritated, he turned around, his eyes instantly fixed on her figure. His nose scrunched up in disgust and he was about to turn and walk off when Toshi spoke a second time. “Please Sir, hear me out! I have important news you must know, my Lord!” She wasn’t one to address people by their titles, or show any kind of manners, but she needed to in this situation. She knew about Turpin that he saw everyone else beneath him and wanted them to treat him accordingly. “Spit it out, boy.” He hissed, albeit he didn’t stop walking or slowed down. Toshi was already out of breath, keeping up with him and speaking at the same time was a hard task to do. “My Lord, your life might be in danger! I came to –“ she stumbled over a small rock “- to warn you!”

Turpin then stopped dead in his tracks, causing Toshi to almost smack into him. He turned around, slowly, his eyes wandering from her face down to her chest (where they seemed to linger for a while), then down to her feet and finally flicked back up to her face. “And what, may I ask, makes you think so? The scum that inhabits these streets usually wants me dead. These are not news. You are wasting my time, child.” He hissed in a low tone, his jaw clenched. “Please, Sir. I am referring to a man known as Sweeney Todd. You see, my Lord, he is not who he seems. Or so they say.” She fumbled with the buttons on her vest nervously. She wasn’t one to get nervous in front of men. Her usual feeling towards them was rage. But he was dangerous, truly dangerous. And she was playing an even more dangerous game right now. “Todd?” He tilted his head, waiting for her to go into detail. Toshi didn’t want to let him wait.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve heard people say his true name is Benjamin Barker. Lost his wife and daughter… say he’s out to get revenge, my Lord.”

The last month, ever since getting that information, she had done a lot of research on Barker and Turpin. She knew that Turpin was responsible for Barker’s ruined life. She needed to get on the Judge’s good side (a vital bit of her freedom plan) and since she had no money to bribe him (unlike others), she hoped vital information would suffice.

Turpin’s eyes remained fixed on hers, a tired expression on his face. If this news worried him, he certainly didn’t let it show. “Benjamin Barker you say?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a long drawl.. Toshi only nodded in response, hoping that he would like the information she had just given him. “He is supposedly back in his old home currently, in Fleet Street, working as a barber as he did before.” And after a pause: “My Lord.” Something then changed in Turpin’s expression. It seemed to be a mixture of worry, anger and something that Toshi couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Who are you?” He frowned, his eyes flicking down to her chest again.

“My name is Toshi Vernier, Sir.” Clearly, her name didn’t give him more insight on her gender, as his eyes kept flicking from her face to her chest. “I’m dressed as a man, so you’d listen to me, my Lord.” She quickly added. His expression softened as soon as he heard her say that. The fact she was female somehow changed his demeanour. “I see.” A long pause followed as he once more eyed her as if to confirm what she had just said. “I assume, given your disguise and secretive manner, that you want something in return for this information.” He sighed. Toshi wondered if he was used to this kind of exchange. She could imagine that most people would approach him to gain his favour. She wondered how many people actually got it.“I might, my Lord. If this information saves your life, I would like you to remember that I was the one to give it to you.” She nodded, taking off her hat, looking up at him hopefully.

Turpin walked closer to her, causing her to back up a little. Before she could get too far away, however, he grabbed her by the collar and roughly pulled her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me, that you’re somehow involved in this, I will make sure you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your unworthy life.” He hissed, shook her and then pushed her away from him. She stumbled back into a nearby wall. He smirked, satisfied by his action, and turned around to leave.

Toshi’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched him leave. This had gone exceptionally well in her mind.

#alan rickman #judge turpin #sweeney todd #turpinxoc #severus snape

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themousefromfantasyland · 1 year ago

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I had this crazy idea last night: a Batman Musical Episode.

Not just any musical episode, Joker's Sweeney Todd.

The Sondheim musical told through the Batfamily and the Rogues Gallery, with Joker as Sweeney himself, and Harley Quinn as Ms. Lovett. There would be some changes to the lyrics and overall story, obviously.

The main story would be like this:

Several times in the comics, it's alluded that the Joker may assume different personalities and memories over time. Sometimes he's a harmless trickster, sometimes he's a total homicidal psychopath. Sometimes he was a failed comedian that was driven insane thanks to a very bad day, and in others he was always an evil gangster.

Imagine if someday the Joker wakes up with a new personality. Now he is a barber and he calls himself Benjamin Barker. He has vague memories of a tragic past that is probably 100% false.

Harley Quinn helps Joker escape from Arkham, and she manipulates his increasingly delirious fake memories and hallucinations in order to finally get closer with him. However, Joker's and Harley's true sadistic and cruel side comes to life, as both reenact the Sweeney and Lovett's scheme of the musical.

Joker starts murdering people in his barbershop, carving smiles on their faces, while Harley uses what's left of their bodies to create "Happy Meals" in her new diner.

We then would constantly jump around two stories: the first one is reality, where we see Batman uncovering the true atrocities of the latest Joker's and Harley's scheme. The second one is Joker's delirious mind, where he is creating a surreal fanfic about himself.

One is naturalistic, the other is meant to clearly take place in a theatre stage. Basically all the musical sequences are just his delirium. And we see how the musical sequences influence on reality and vice versa.

In Joker's story, he was an innocent barber that was sent to Arkham by a corrupt Commissioner Gordon and an evil Batman. Batman was obsessed with his wife, and wanted Joker away so he could have her all for himself. Then after Joker's wife has the same fate as Sweeney's wife in the musical, Commissioner Gordon and Batman took Joker's baby daughter Johanna to raise.

Yeah, in Joker's mind, Barbara is Johanna, Batman is Judge Turpin, and Commissioner Gordon is the Beadle. And I forgot to add that Dick Grayson gets to be Anthony, the wide-eyed sailor that's hopeless in love with Johanna.

Heck in the musical, there's a scene where Anthony breaks Johanna from an insane asylum, allowing the inmates to run free through the streets of London. Imagine this, but with Arkham inmates running through Gotham.

In the end Batman manages to capture Joker, but not before he stabs Harley for lying to him, and kills a beggar woman who got in the way of his plans. Joker's is obsessed that he accidentally killed Lucy, his long lost wife, and Batman is left wondering if there's any truth behind that or if it's just another Joker delusion.

Honestly, I don't know if Batman or comic books fans have anything in common with musical theatre fans, but "Epiphany" could be easily a Joker song, and "A Little Priest" was made for Joker and Harley Quinn.

#dc comics #joker #harley quinn #sweeney todd #musical theatre

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alilixx · 2 years ago

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fanfic characters x reader

I would also write fanfics about the actors (they are mostly the ones playing the characters on the list)

Here is my list:

Harry Potter:

Severus Snape:

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Barty Crouch Jr.

Bellatrix Lestrange

Lucius Malfoy

Character I'm not sure I do:

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Tom Riddle

Regulus Black

Fantastic Beasts:

Albus Dumbledore

Gellert Grindelwald

Minerva McGonagall

Lord Percival Graves

Hogwarts Legacy:

Phineas Nigellus Black

Sebastian Sallow

Aesop Sharp

Mirabel Garlick

Ominis Gaunt

Grand Theft Auto:

Michael De Santa

Trevor Philips

Franklin Clinton

Niko Bellic

Steve Haines

Lester Crest

Agent 14

Naruto:

Kakashi Hatake

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Tsunade

Jiraya

Minato Namikaze

Gaara

Tobirama Senju

Senju Hashirama

Inuzuka Hana

Mitarashi Anko

Darui

Kushina Uzumaki

Kiba Inuzuka

Uchiha Shisui

Yujito Nii

Ôtsutsuki Indra

Ôtsutsuki Asura

Uchiha Obito

Mei Temurî

Boruto:

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Mitsuki

Kawaki

Boruto Uzumaki

Konoha-Maru Sarutobi

Sakura Haruno

The Devil Wears Prada:

Serena

Miranda Priestly

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Yuji Itadori

Utahime Iori

Masamichi Yaga

Inumaki Toge

Okkotsu Yûta

Sheko Ieiri

Yuki Tsukumo

Uraume

Toji Fushiguro

Gong Shi Woo

Atsuya Kusakabe

Ieri Shôko

Zenin Mai

Zenin Maki

Choso

Gojo Satoru

Megumi Fushiguro

Ryomen Sukuna

Mei Mei

Kento Nanami

Assassination Classroom:

Tadaomi Karasuma

Irina Jelavic

Koro Sensei (human)

One piece:

Shanks

Portgas D.Ace

Don Quijote Doflamingo

Roronoa Zoro

Sanji Vinsmoke

Coby

Trafalgar Law

Sabo

Marvel:

Agatha Harkness

Hela

Natasha Romanoff

Tony Stark

Yelena Belova

Loki Laufeyson

Sylvie Laufeydottir

Matt Murdock

May Parker

Scott Lang

Shang Chi

Stephen Strange

Thena

Wanda Maximoff

Xu Wenwu

Marc Spector

Steven Grant

Wednesday:

Larissa Weems

Morticia Addams

Lucifer:

Lucifer Morningstar

Chloe Decker

Mazikeen Smith

Amenadiel

Charlotte Richards

Aurora (Rory) Morningstar

Michael

Sandman:

The Corinthian

Lucifer Morningstar

Desire

Johanna Constantine

Bleach:

Ichigo Kurosaki

Sousuke Aizen

Kuchiki Buyakuya

Coyote Stark

Resident Evil:

Leon S. Kennedy

Chris Redfield

Ashley Graham

Ethan Winters

Carlos Oliveira

Helena Harper

Rosemary Winters

Alcina Dimitrescu

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Daniela Dimitrescu

Bela Dimitrescu

Dr House:

Dr Gregory House

Dr Lisa Cuddy

Dr James Wilson

Dr Alissa Cameron

Dr 13

Two and a Half Men:

Charlie Harper

Walden Schmidt

Judith Harper

Jenny

Politicians:

Emmanuel Macron (French President)

Gabriel Attal (French Prime Minister)

Mathieu Maucort (French Interministerial Delegate)

Jordan Bardella (European Deputy and French President of the RN)

Volodimir Zelensky (Ukranian President)

Justin Trudeau (Canada Prime Minister)

I'M NOT TALK ABOUT MY POLITICAL PARTY OR WHETHER I SUPPORT THEM OR NOT!!! ONLY FOR PHYSICS HUH

Star Wars:

Kylo Ren

Captain Phasma

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Valorant:

Chamber

Viper

Reyna

Omen

La Casa De Papel:

Berlin

El Professor

Suárez

My Hero Academia:

Dabi

Shota Aizawa

Nemuri Kayama

Todoroki Shôto

Toga Himiko

Shimura Nana

Chisaki Kai

Attack on titan:

Hanji Zoe

Levi Ackerman

Annie Leonhart

Mikasa Ackerman

Pirates of the caribbean:

Jack Sparrow

Elizabeth Swann

Sweeney Todd:

Sweeney Todd

Mrs. Lovett

Judge Turpin

The Witcher:

Geralt Of Rivia

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Ciri

Kaamelott:

Arthur Pendragon

Léodagan

Bohort

Yvain

Gauvain

Ygerne

Elias de Kelliwic’h

Spy X Family

Loid Forger

Yor Forger

Castlevania

Dracula

Leon Belmont

Alucard

Trevor Belmont

Richard Belmont

Tera

Five Nights at Freddy’s

William Afton

Michael Schmidt

Vanessa Shelly

Satsuriku no Tenshi

Isaac Foster

Haikyuu!!

Yū Nishinoya

Tobio Kageyama

Tetsurō Kuroo

Fugou Keiji: Balance:UNLIMITED

Daisuke Kambe

Haru Katou

Ryo Hosino

Owari no Seraph

Guren Ichinose

Mikaela Hyakuya

Ferid Bathory

Crowley Eusford

Kureto Hiragi

Shinya Hiragi

Horn Skuld

Chess Belle

Rokudenashi Majutsu Koushi to Akashic Records

Glenn Radars

Sistine Fibel

Celica Arfonia

Albert Frazer

Domestic na Kanojo

Hina Tachibana

Rui Tachibana

Masaki Kobayashi

Reiji Kiriya

My new boss is Goofy

Shirosaki Yusei

Mitsuo Aoyama

Kinjo Aigo

Buddy Daddies

Kugi Kyûtarô

Suwa Rei

Kurusu Kazuki

Unasaka Misaki

Other characters

Sakata Gintoki from Gintama

Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones by Gwendoline Christie

Hans Gruber from Die Hard by Alan Rickman

Sinclair Bryant from Close my eyes by Alan Rickman

Miranda Hilmarson from Top of the Lake by Gwendoline Christie

Charlie Harper from My Uncle Charlie by Charlie Sheen

Isaac Foster from Angels of Deaths

Link from The Legend Of Zelda

Cereza from Bayonetta

Leonora Lesso from School for Good and Evil by Charlize Theron

Elaine Markinson from Gringo by Charlize Theron

Hannibal Lecter from Hannibal by Mads Mikkelson

Miss Perergrine from Miss Peregrine’s Home for Particular Children by Eva Green

Joel Miller from The Last Of Us by Pedro Pascal

Mr.Cat from Kaeloo

Marc from Le Flambeau by Jonathan Cohen

John Wick from John Wick’s movies by Keanu Reeves

Joe Goldberg from You by Penn Badgley

Crowley from Good Omens by David Tennant

Max Black from 2 Broke girls by Kat Dennings

Tobias from Ghost

#harry potter #severus snape #hermione granger #draco malfoy #howgarts #the witcher #sweeney todd #alan rickman #ghost #young royals #john wick #five nights at freddy's #good omens #the last of us #hannibal #miss peregrine imagine #zelda #others #etc

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