#judge turpin fanfic
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Rickmas day 1
18+ minors and those without age in bio dni
tags: @illiana-mystery, @fangsandroses, @iobsessoverfictionalmen
prompt: chimney soot
AN: thank u @deepperplexity for coming up with the name Richard for judge Turpin! And letting me use it both last year and this year.
warnings: swearing
I stood against the wall watching the beedle attempt to clean the chimney floo. Richard stood next to me, eyebrow raised at the short man’s behind.
“why did we do this again?” I whispered to him as the beedle swore in pain.
“It’s free.” Richard whispered back. “Last time I take him up on his dumbass ideas simply because it’s free.” I nodded in agreement as the beedle emerged, covered in soot and smiling.
“it is clean my lord.” He said with a small bow, soot flitting down off his face.
“for your sake I should hope so.” Richard said, mouth curling into a sneer at the soot that was now covering our carpet. “Get out of here. And be careful where you find yourself. I see one speck of soot in my house and you’ll find yourself in the poor house.” The beedle nodded slowly, eyes wide and taking care where he deposited soot. Richard turned to me with a sign as the beedle left the room. He didn’t speak until the door had slammed shut. “Do we trust it?” I shrugged.
“he’s your assistant.” I said. “How much do you trust him?” Richard nodded before leaning over to kiss me.
“one chance. And then we call a chimney sweep.” He confirmed. I nodded and we went about our day as usual. That night, Richard and I were sitting in front of the fireplace, debating on lighting the fire.
“I’m just saying we should cover everything in sheets or something. Just in case.” I said as Richard leaned down to inspect the chimney. He gave me a look and I shrugged. “You may trust the beedle but I don’t.” I gave him a small smile as he sighed.
“you’re right.” He conceded. “Or better yet, let’s just get a chimney sweep in tomorrow to do the job properly.” I nodded and walked over to hug him.
“I think that’s the smartest thing you have said all day.” I teased as Richard went to call for a chimney sweep.
#Judge turpin#judge Turpin x reader#Judge Turpin fanfic#judge Turpin fanfiction#judge Turpin imagine#alan rickman#alan rickman fanfic#alan rickman fanfiction#alan rickman imagine#alan rickman x reader#Rickmas#rickmas 2023
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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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[Dec:2023]
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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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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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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.
#my art#digital art#sweeneytoddst#painting#sweeney todd#sweeney todd the demon barber of fleet street#fanfiction#fanfic#archive of our own#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#ao3#wattpad#sweeney todd fanart#sweeney todd fanfiction#musical theatre#stephen sondheim sweeney todd#stephen sondheim#judge turpin#Rose#Sweeney#Hugh#never forgive always forget#sweeney and rose#NFAF
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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
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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.
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You always answer our question and you're maybe the only one doing it and I thought maybe you could do a sort of Q & A with random basic questions and then tag some other authors to get to know you and them better ? I saw it in another fandom and I dunno, found it interesting to learn random stuffs about people I follow.
Hey there! 😊 I love the idea of doing a Q&A—it sounds like a fun way to get to know each other better! Plus, who doesn't love a bit of random trivia about the people they follow? So count me in, and I might just have to tag a few other authors too!
Fun fact about me: I actually got into the Alan Rickman fandom after stumbling upon my first story about Judge Turpin, written by the amazing @smilingformoney. After reading that, I was hooked! I kept diving into more stories by other fantastic authors until I finally decided to write my own Rickman fanfic. At that time, I was already writing for the Colin Firth fandom, but @smilingformoney was the first person to like and encourage my writing, and it’s because of her initial support that I’m still here, writing away. I’m super grateful for that!
So now, my question to you all is: what was the first story you read in the Alan Rickman fandom? 😊
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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.
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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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Rickmas day 21: star of wishes
18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @deepperplexity, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @cassieuncaged
warnings: swearing
I held tightly to Richard’s arm as we walked along the icy streets of London. There was a damp chill to the air, creating the perfect excuse to cuddle up closer to his much warmer body. As if I really needed an excuse.
“look.” Richard said softly, pointing up into the sky. I followed his finger to see a bright star hanging in the sky.
“A star of wishes.” I murmured. Richard nodded and pulled us to the side, eager to keep the star in sight. “Richard.” I laughed. he smiled brightly at me before murmuring the words and closing his eyes. I watched him enraptured.
“make a wish my darling.” He breathed out. I smiled softly at him.
“I don’t need to.” I said as I tugged him along. Richard frowned at me and tried to get me to stop. “I have everything I need.”
“everything?” Richard asked skeptically. I nodded.
“everything except a warm fire but we have that at home.” I teased. Richard rolled his eyes at me but tugged me closer to keep me warm.
“I highly doubt you have everything dear.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and nodded.
“I do.” I confirmed. “I have a wonderful life. A wonderful house. And best of all, a wonderful loving husband.” Richard blushed despite the cold and he turned to press a kiss to my head.
“touché.” He whispered. “No need for stars of wishes then.” I hummed in confirmation as we neared our gate.
“no need at all.”
#alan rickman#alan rickman fanfic#alan rickman fanfiction#alan rickman x reader#alan rickman imagine#judge turpin fanfiction#judge turpin fanfic#judge turpin#judge Turpin imagine#Judge Turpin x reader#rickmas#rickmas2023
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Everyone reading @smilingformoney 's Turpin fic... And loving it far too much for it to be healthy really 👀👌
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Sins of the Flesh
I. Innocence Lost
Summary: Sweeney Todd | Turpin/Reader | Judge Turpin is not a man known for his mercy, but his mercy is exactly what you need. How far are you willing to go to get it?
Warnings: Rape/non-con, sexual coercion, prostitution, sex for favours, power imbalance, breeding kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT
Read on Ao3.
#sweeney todd#judge turpin#alan rickman#turpin x reader#alan rickman fanfic#turpin fanfic#sweeney todd fanfic#smut#dead dove
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I wrote a Hans Gruber fanfic but it didn’t get the attention I wanted it to, so it got me wondering, what Alan Rickman characters do people want to read about? Besides our dear dungeon bat ofc.
#severus snape#pro severus snape#alan rickman fanfic#alan rickman#hans gruber#snape x reader#snape#snape fandom#lionel shabandar#eli michaelson#pl o’hara#i am so bored give me fanfic suggestions#i beg of you#judge turpin#sinclair bryant
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Not to self promote yet again (sorry y’all), but I’m really excited to share my fic now that it’s actually finished!
This is the first fanfic (not including one shots) I’ve completed rather than giving up on it after getting writer’s block, so it’s a huge deal to me, and I’m actually decently proud of it!
It’s an AU in which Nellie Lovett raises Johanna instead of Judge Turpin, so she grows up with her and actually gets to meet her father.
#theatre#broadway#musical theatre#musicals#sweeney todd#sweeney todd the demon barber of fleet street#mrs lovett#nellie lovett#johanna barker#anthony hope#tobias ragg#johanna barker and anthony hope#sweeney todd and nellie lovett#sweeney todd and mrs lovett#the self promo strikes back#sorry y’all
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Judge Turpin: The Negotiation
Warning: mild dub con, loss of virginity, age difference
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Leonora dutifully walked towards the large, brick mansion. The gentleman, if one wished to call him that, leered at her youthful form while she took in the sight. It was a shame, really, that London was always so gray. This house could look beautiful were it not for the dingy skies and polluted air. Her escort grabbed her thin arm, just above the elbow as he tugged her, willing her to move closer to the front door. The heavy wooden door, almost black in appearance, stuck out against the white brick of the building and the golden lion head knockers.
103 Primrose Hill. This is where she would become a woman.
Her escort reached up a pale, dirty hand. His unwashed fingers wrapped around the polished gold of the door knocker. He raised and lowered the ring that hung from the lion's mouth three times. Then they waited.
Leonora heard the internal workings of the lock click as they unlocked. The door was quickly pulled open and the striking figure made himself visible as he cut through the shadows.
Turpin.
"Ah, Beadle. To what do I owe this... interruption?" The judge queried, cocking his left eyebrow in a menacing way. Her previously confident escort seemed to cower from this man, which at once she found humorous as well as daunting. She enjoyed that her escort was so uncomfortable, after having been so inappropriate with her in their carriage ride from the courthouse. However, if he was fearful, it had to be for good reason. What had she gotten herself into?
"M-my Lord!" Beadle cried, "this is James Worthington's daughter. She has.... If you'll excuse my interruption my lord... she has come to ask a favor from you". The man bowed dastardly, unable to raise his eyes from the pavement.
The Great Judge Turpin allowed his eyes to rake over her form before he stepped aside, reaching out a hand to offer her sanctuary inside his home. The young woman raised her chin, hoping to show the confidence she didn't inwardly feel as she stepped over the threshold, the man pushing the door closed behind her and locking it.
"Come, join me in my study so we can discuss your... desires".
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Leonora followed the Judge to his office, the Beadle remaining outside. As unwelcome as his presence was, she would have been more comfortable with some sort of witness to their exchange.
As the man strode into his office, she allowed herself to take notice of his appearance for the first time. If she were being completely honest, she felt some attraction to the man, despite his prickly demeanor. The man had beautiful brown eyes that were very expressive, she had noticed, especially when they were accompanied by his expressive eyebrows.
His hair was a bit unkempt. She supposed this was due to the powdered wig he was required to wear for his profession. It was on the longer side, and grey with some streaks of white. He had some stubble upon his cheek, implying it had been some time since he had shaved last.
His clothing complimented his form as well as announced his placement in society. They were regal and made with the finest materials she had assumed. His waistcoat was form fitting, drawing her attention to his broad chest and sturdy shoulders; while his long, leather coat hung well below his knees. She tried to focus more on his upper body, however, she was unable to completely ignore the very tight, very form fitting trousers. She flushed and averted her eyes before her lasciviousness was recognized.
Instead she turned her attention to his study. He obviously spent a lot of time here; his leather chair still held the imprint of his body. Leonora was distracted by his murals that had been painted on the walls, mostly naked women, tastefully done of course. She felt him slither behind her, feeling his hot breath on her neck as he offered her a chair to sit in. She shivered as he spoke, obediently lowering her body into the buttery feeling of his guest chair.
"Miss... Worthington, was it? How can I be of assistance to you?".
"I've come to ask for mercy on behalf of my father," she stated quietly, keeping her eyes fixed to the floor.
"Ah, my dear, that will be quite impossible I'm afraid. He's scheduled to hang tomorrow," Turpin responded with mock sympathy.
"But sir! He is a good man, he doesn't deserve to die! My mother and siblings need his support. I can't provide us with enough money and I'm the only one old enough for an occupation," she pleaded, tears filling her eyes.
Turpin swooped bedside her, perching on the edge of his desk nearest her. He offered his handkerchief before speaking. "No woman of your beauty should have to work". The judge fingered his stubble, lost in thought until a mischievous grin crossed his features.
The Judge remembered the case well, it was only two days ago that her father had stood trial. The man evidently had enjoyed his drink too much the evening in question and presented himself drunkenly in the middle of the town square before dropping his trousers and urinating on the side of a building.Turpin had never been an understanding or lenient man, especially when it came down to detriments of public health. He easily passed his verdict of death with minimal thought or concern.
"Perhaps... we could come to some sort of arrangement, Miss Worthington. His crime was of a vulgar nature. Perhaps there is some poetic justice that a vulgar act should set him free, hmm?" He bit his lower lip as his eyes followed every curve of her body, focusing on her heaving bosom that threatened to spill over her form fitting jacket. She was indeed quite beautiful.
"S-sir?" She questioned nervously.
"Are you experienced at all, Miss Worthington? Have you allowed any man, or worse yet a fumbling boy, touch you? Or is your virtue intact?" He cocked his eyebrow at his last question, lifting his chin higher so he looked down his aquiline nose at her. As she shook her head in response, he found himself grinning. He rose to his feet and swiftly strode to his bookshelf.
"I had hoped as much. You see, my dear, I myself am quite practiced". He sensually fingered the spines of his books as he sauntered past each one. "Oh yes.... Such practices. The Geishas of Japan, the concubines of Siam, the catamites of Greece, the harlots of India. I have them all here. Drawings of them. Everything a man has ever dreamed of doing with a woman. Would you like to see?". Turpin plucked a book from its spot, holding it out to her. Leonora's face flushed brightly as she interpreted what he was requiring of her. She swallowed audibly before standing before him.
"I want his pardon in writing first," she stated confidently. She had allowed the idea of an exchange such as this occurring, so she wasn't completely shocked. Still, she was upset that she'd be giving herself to a man she had no feelings towards, not to mention she'd have a difficult time getting married after this encounter. Still, she was willing to do anything to save her father.
She jumped at his deep, booming laugh as he replaced the book and returned to his desk. "Good girl," he purred. Taking out a piece of parchment, he wrote out a full pardon, allowing her to read over his shoulder before he sealed it with his family crest.
"Shall we away, my dear? My chambers are upstairs. Unless you'd rather stay here?"
"N-no sir. I think a bed would be easiest".
"Mmm, yes I quite agree. Come," he pushed her out of the room with his hand placed at her lower back, leading her towards the long staircase that would lead to her loss of innocence.
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The stairs seemed to be never-ending. She had assumed it was just her nerves slowing time. She allowed herself to be fearful and anxious during their walk, but knew she needed to appear confident in front of the judge. She sniffled as she reached the top of the stairs.
"Don't cry, my dear. You're doing this for a good cause," he cooed as he tucked a tendril of dark brown hair behind her ear, it had fallen loose from her braid. She shivered under his touch, her treacherous body responding to his fingers. "Mmmm I think I'm going to like this. So responsive already my dear and we haven't even begun". Her lips parted as she exhaled a shaky breath.
They continued their walk down the long corridor, she tried to focus on the ornate rug she was walking in instead of the heat of his towering body walking beside her. When they came to the 4th door on the right, he stopped. "In you go," he teased as he escorted her through the door. She had imagined this event before; being carried through the threshold, cradled in her husband's arms, gentle kisses being provided as he walked. But this wasn't her imagination. This was real. And she wasn't swooning, or being carried, or kissed gently by her husband. She would be taken; used for his pleasure and returned with naught more than a piece of parchment to free her father. She felt her unbidden tears fall.
"Shhhhh, my dear," Turpin purred as he gently stroked her cheek. She couldn't help but lean into his touch. His gaze darkened as he roughly cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You should feel honored. I never... never... go back on my verdicts. This is but a small price to pay for your fathers freedom. However, by all means.... If this isn't what you want, leave now... for once I start, I will not stop no matter how much you plead".
He allowed her to consider his words for a few moments before smirking; realizing she wasn't leaving. He walked towards the bed and sat on its edge. "Come, Nora. Undress your lord". She gulped as she approached the man. She was confused about his familiar way of addressing her, but it did seem to calm her a bit. He opened his legs to allow her to settle between them.
Leonora started with his silk cravat; the material was cool and smooth beneath her fingers. She delicately slid the material through its own knot, tugging the tails of the scarf until it was finally freed of his neck. She decided to move onto his waist coat. The embroidery on it was so delicate, she couldn't help but run her fingers over the golden threads as she made her way to his buttons. Turpin sat rigidly on the side of the bed, but did shiver a bit as she touched his chest. It had been a long time since he had a willing female in his bed.
She dexterously popped the buttons on the waistcoat, one at a time until it opened to her, revealing a white linen shirt and broad chest. She pushed his leather coat and waistcoat from his shoulders, leaving him in his loose linen shirt.
Leonora reached down and pulled his shirttails from his trousers. The Judge assisted her with pulling the article over his head, revealing his pale chest to her for the first time. He was an older man, true, but he seemed to take good care of his body. She ran her hands over his chest again, apparently she was unable to prevent herself from feeling the strong, ropey muscles. He had a few sparse hairs on his chest with a bit more hair on his belly, darkening as it disappeared beneath his trousers. She gasped as he cupped her bottom, pulling her flush against him as he nuzzled her bosom with his nose.
His voice was thick with lust as he spoke to her, guiding her actions. "Lie down on the bed, Nora".
"Yes, Sir". She scooted up on the bed, lying directly in the middle, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. She stared at the ceiling while she felt the mattress dip with his body weight as he crawled in between her legs.
Turpin kneeled between her legs which he had to nudge open to allow himself to fit. He reached down to pull over her ankle-length boots, carelessly tossing them off the bed, hitting the floor with a thump. Leonora lifted her head from the pillows to watch what the man was doing, only to lower herself back down, unable to make eye contact while he undressed her.
Her whole body was quivering with nerves. She wished the room was darker so she wouldn't have to watch what was happening; she feared for the pain that was likely to occur. She also feared for her embarrassment that she knew she'd experience; she was likely to be labeled a whore, afterall. She started fidgeting with her fingers as he continued his actions.
He ran his hands under her skirts; up her long legs, slowly, taking his time to enjoy the shiver it produced in the young woman. He caressed over her shins, past her knees and up to her thighs. He felt for the silky ribbon that held her stockings in place and tugged at it, allowing it to fall away, her stockings unrolled to expose her beautiful legs. After both stockings were removed, Turpin placed his body above hers, supporting himself on his arms as he gazed down upon her.
"I wish to watch you finish disrobing. Do it... slowly. We are in no rush this afternoon".
Leonora slowly nodded, reaching for the buttons that kept her marigold colored jacket closed. The judge sat back on his haunches to allow the woman the room she required to undress. She sat up, pushing the jacket off, before she lifted her hips to pull down her matching petticoat. She shivered as she left herself in her linen chemise. She drew her arms over her chest, attempting to remain modest.
The Judge scowled, "do not hide from me," as he pulled her hands away. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it as he admired her. He made quick work of his remaining clothes, eager to begin his negotiation. The young virgin blushed as she witnessed his hardened member spring out from his trousers. It looked angry, the veins protruding as the plum-like tip leaked a clear fluid.
"I need to prepare you first, Nora. I must warn you, once I taste you I will be unable to stop myself. This is your last chance to leave. Our deal would be broken of course, and your father sacrificed... but the choice is yours," his manipulative tone made her angry and fearful. He smirked as he watched the woman's face settle into a mask of concern.
"T-taste me, Milord?" Her eyes widened to the size of saucers as he chuckled darkly.
"Mmm yes, Nora. I need you prepared for me; the better prepared you are now, the less it will hurt later. So... I will taste you, for I need you wet. Very wet". Turpin took his time to allow the enunciation of his final two words to affect her as he knew they would. The whores and other women that he had taken to bed were always driven mad by his deep baritone, and they were always eager to inform him of this quality.
He grinned as he watched her start to squirm. The build up was always his favorite part. He wanted the woman to scream his name, claw at his back and pull at his hair before he finally provided her the relief she was so desperate for. He wondered if the virginal woman who was in his bed was capable of such wanton behavior. Ah.. what a pleasure and honor it was to be her first. He could shape her however he wanted.
The man couldn't wait any longer for her. He reached up to the neckline of her chemise and ripped it apart, splitting the fabric down the middle with a few sharp tugs. He licked his lips hungrily as his eyes feasted upon her creamy breasts. He lowered his head immediately to latch onto her nipple, sucking and nipping at the peak until it hardened.
Leonora instantly hissed at the feel of his hot mouth upon her flesh. Her back arched as she succumbed to the feelings he was bringing her. She whimpered as he withdrew from her nipple, her hands twitching as she longed to run her fingers through his hair. Turpin licked his way over to her other peak, tugging at it as he gave it equal attention.
Reluctantly he released her from his mouth, looking into her eyes as he slid down her body. He placed open mouthed kisses upon her chest and belly as he slithered his way down the bed. He felt her body tense as he reached the apex of her thighs.
"N-no. Please. Can.. can we just...". Leonora wasn't comfortable with his face being that close to her most sensitive area. Her body felt as if it was on fire from his kisses and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle his tongue down there. Turpin placed a large, heavy hand over her pelvis, applying some pressure to still her squirming.
"You are not in control here, Leonora. I am. Mark me, for I will not repeat myself". The girl nodded as she bit her lip and looked away. She was embarrassed about being on display and felt tears begin to prickle in her eyes. Turpin returned to his previous actions, brushing his hand over her soft curls as he descended into her quim. He dragged his middle finger through her arousal, gathering the lubrication before he touched the bundle of nerves he knew would drive her crazy.
The woman immediately jumped, willing herself to sit up as soon as he touched her. He chuckled as he looked up, meeting her eyes. He rested his chin on her hip bone as he spoke. "If there's something you don't like, tell me and I shall consider it. Alternatively...if there's something you wish for me to do... beg".
Turpin dropped his head between her legs, dragging his tongue slowly through her labia. He moaned at her taste, thrilled he was able to make her this aroused with just a little petting. He used his thumb to circle and press against her clitoris as his tongue continued to caress her folds. She keened as he continued, arching her back unwillingly. Her hands automatically came to his head, tugging on his hair as she undulated her hips against his face. He reached underneath her legs to cup her bottom, pulling her deeper to him while he plunged his tongue inside her.
He could feel her body start to quiver, so he quickly released her. She cried out as her building orgasm was denied. He grinned as he witnessed her disappointment. Fuzzy headed, it took her a few moments to realize why he stopped. She attempted to wiggle beneath him, hoping her non verbal pleas would be enough, but he just looked into her eyes; his own glittering in amusement.
"P-please, sir".
"Please what?"
"I..." she trailed off, unsure of what exactly it was she needed. He moved his thumb back to her clit as he started to slowly circle it, varying the pressure from hard to a gentle tickle as he tortured her.
"What is it you need, Nora?" the man purred. She couldn't handle his teasing any longer.
"I... I need more," she choked out. Turpin squeezed her clit before rolling it between two fingers, watching her head fall back.
"More what? Be specific," he demanded.
"Mmmph. Oh please sir! Please! I-I need your mouth...ahhhhh!" She screamed as he sealed his lips around her bundle of nerves, sucking hard as he brought her over the precipice.
He continued lapping at her, bringing her down from her high. Once she stilled, he looked up, his face glistening with her own juices as he smiled smugly. "You taste divine, Nora. Come, now it is my turn". He pulled her up so they could switch places. He laid down on his bed as he guided her over towards his throbbing member. She clumsily grasped it, causing him to hiss at her strong grip.
"Ah! Gentle, love, gentle. Here, let me show you," he entwined his fingers with hers, bringing her hand to her own mouth. "Spit," he commanded. She hesitantly agreed, lubricating her hand as he moved her to grasp himself; showing her the pressure and motions he liked. Once he felt confident she could keep her rhythm, he released his own hand from hers and laid back. She had originally had difficulty deciding where she should grasp, since his appendage was much larger than her delicate hand. However, with his guidance she gained confidence, discovering he liked a tighter squeeze at the very base of his shaft as well as the very tip. She could actually feel him pulsate under her grip; delighted in her apparent success, she gripped him with both hands, twisting in opposite directions.
"Use your mouth," he stated as he gently pushed on her head in encouragement. She found herself eagerly obeying him, sticking out her pink tongue and running it across the very tip, desiring a taste of him as he had done for her. She felt the silky liquid on her tongue; it was salty and bitter but she found she didn't mind it that much. She placed gentle kisses over his member, reveling in his deep groans he was allowing to slip through his delectable lips. He placed a hand on her head, taking a hand full of her hair as he pushed her down firmly. Her eyes watered as she gagged and struggled to catch her breath. She struggled but he was relentless and wouldn't allow her to pull away. Once she stilled, he allowed her to move. Gasping, tears fell from her eyes as she looked at the man fearfully.
"Learn to breathe through your nose. I want to fuck your throat and can't have you coming up for air every few seconds," he reported sternly. She nodded her head in understanding before lowering her mouth again, without being told. He smiled as he relaxed back. "Mmmm you're such a good girl! Taking my prick so well your first time," he cooed as he pet her head. She continued to bob her head up and down, swirling her tongue as she became more comfortable. After a few more minutes she felt the burning pain of her hair being pulled as he forced her off of him.
"Did I do something wrong sir?" she asked, wiping the spittle from her chin.
"No, darling, you did something very right. I just want to be inside your quim, not your mouth, when I finish. I want to fill you up so you are reminded of who took your virtue as it cascades down your beautiful thighs when you walk home to your newly freed daddy".
"Oh," was all she was able to respond with. She had never heard such language in her life! Surely if someone else spoke so crudely the Judge would find some reason to kill them. But here? Now? All she could think about was his husky voice, his long fingers, and that delectable tongue.
He pushed her back onto the mattress as he settled himself between her thighs. Grabbing his length, he pumped it a few times before stroking it against her glistening folds. "Prepare yourself Nora, this will hurt," he warned as he started to slowly press into her. He closed his eyes in bliss as he felt her heat engulf him.
"It.. it hurts, sir. You're too big..." she cried out as he pushed in further. Her walls shuttered and pulled him in further and further until he was flush against her body. He stayed still, enjoying her tight body, fearful if he moved it would end abruptly. He needed to calm himself as well as give her a head start. He bent his head down as he kissed the tears that were streaming down her face.
"Mmmm such a good job, Nora. Your cunt is so tight and you're taking me so well. How does it feel to know you belong to me now? Hmm? If I have my way, I will be the only prick to ever enter this gorgeous little body".
Nora moaned slightly as he started slowly moving inside her. She felt the friction of him against her, the tearing of her precious membrane she had been saving. She wanted to scream... to cry... to push him off of her. But once he started moving, he started providing pleasure. A pleasure that she had never felt before. Her whole body felt hot as a tantalizing prickle sensation crossed over her. She was unable to keep her eyes focused anywhere but where he was joined with her. She watched as he slowly retreated before hastily thrusting back inside. She could see her own arousal, tinged pink with her virginity, over his length as he retreated each time. Biting her lip, she threw her head back as he reached down with his thumb to rub her clitoris again.
He needed to bring her close to her own orgasm so they could reach their climaxes together. He stroked her bundle of nerves, precisely how she liked while he held his weight on his other arm, fearful of hurting her with his sturdy weight. When she started keening and moaning in pleasure, he licked the notch between her collar bones before sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of her shoulder. He felt her walls clamp down on him as she came undone. He thrusted as hard as he could, slamming the bed into the wall with his strength as his own orgasm was pulled from him. As he slowed his movement, he finally released her flesh from his bite and observed his mark he left upon her porcelain skin.
Breathless, he licked his mark before rolling over. "Something to remember me by, my dear". He continued breathing heavily with his eyes closed. He felt the mattress dip as the young woman perched on the side of the bed preparing to dress herself.
"I don't need a mark to remember this my lord," she stated quietly. He could hear the slight smile on her voice as she fingered her bruised skin.
"William, Nora. Call me William".
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