#sweeney todd fic

[bebx]

Relationship: Anthony Hope & Sweeney Todd

Summary:

Mister Todd lost a daughter and a wife. He certainly gave up on being someone's family again, still he ended up having a son of his own; his name was Anthony.

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 14: Deceptive Kindness [C4]

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Fem!OC

POV: Dual POV (OC, First & Turpin, Third)

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Darkest Night [C1], Prompt 8. Never-ending Consequences [C2], Prompt 10. Lingering Touch [C3]

A/N: I got an extra treat for you today 🤭 We get a little glimpse of this story through Turpin’s eyes - I adore writing his POV but I do it sparingly as the impact is always so intense when seeing things from his point of view while getting to be in his head for a moment 👏 And, of course, we need a dramatic reunion so we’re adding a little fear, a little darkness, and a little bit of frantic running to this 👀👌❤

Tags/TW’s: Infatuated By Her, Unwanted Thoughts/Feelings, Unwanted Touch, Fear, Being Restrained By An Unknown Man (Fearing Being Harmed), Feeling Safe With Turpin, Mutual Secret Pining, Nickname (so cute!), Being Carried, Protective/Harsh Turpin, Mentions Hating Christmas (of course he does), Dark And Gloomy, Angst With Tiniest Hint Of Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Deceptive Kindness

⁛•⁛ Turpin’s POV ⁛•⁛

Miss Brimmer… Joyful, sweet, talkative little Miss Brimmer… He was incapable of casting her out of his mind. He had cursed himself for it, had bargained with himself, and lately taken to sulking. Yes, the high judge of London sulked in his gloomy library with his face contorted in a frown as he was incapable of reading the lawsuit spread across his desk with her infernally sweet face disturbing him every minute of each wretched day.

At this time of year, it was usually the infernal jolly mood and ever-chiming carols that had him occupied with the deep-seated need to snarl. Now, it was something apparently worse. A jolly, chiming, sweet and fury-inducing little woman with green eyes like the needles of a pine and a smile as bright as the midnight star.

Four days had passed since he left her at his home, not so much as a goodbye had been uttered and he had thought little of it at the time. Certainly, her energy had been warm. Obviously, her smile had been a lovely view. Her bright and loud chatter a constant and intrusive company, definitely. But warm…

He slammed his fists down and rose in a rush from the large chair. “This is madness, banish these foolish thoughts.” He knew her joy was far beyond his reach and despite being the depraved and selfish man he was, he struggled with the notion of putting out her light — trapping her to him would surely silence that joyful talkativeness that had slithered itself under his skin. It lingered, and the sound of Miss Brimmer’s constant, bright, and quick chatter echoed all around him as he marched from the library to the parlour despite her not being there.

He poured a glass of whiskey from the crystal decanter by the seating area. Beyond his windows, the bells of Christmas rang as snow flitted from the dark sky of night. He watched the fire before him, spreading a warmth he barely felt while the golden light reminded him of how you shined in the darkness of his home. Such as a star upon a Christmas tree… There had never been one in his house — a star or a Christmas tree.

He tapped his finger against the glass and took a slow sip. He remembered every word she spoke, strangely enough. He never took notice of others in such a manner, and never committed words not of the utmost importance to he himself to memory. But Miss Brimmer’s words were committed to memory — truly, burned with warmth and light into the membranes within his skull housing a dark mind usually so quiet and void of all things good.

Placing the glass back on the table, he stepped away from the fire and toward the large windows draped with wine-red velvet on either side. The darkness beyond was as deep as the dark within his home, within his heart. So it must remain. Quiet, dark, and the same as always. “Yes, the same as every damned Christm—” His eyes widened, he leaned closer to the frosty window as a running woman stumbled on her skirt and crashed against his gate in a tumble.

He tilted his head, looking down to see better. A pale hand grasped the iron of the gate, his heart revolted as the harrowed face of Miss Brimmer appeared between the bars for a second — her breath fogging in rushed bursts — before she turned her head to look back as she grasped for the handle to open his gate blindly. He staggered back a step, his heart pounded and for a second his mind struggled to comprehend what his eyes showed him.

⁛•⁛ Julianne’s POV ⁛•⁛ | A few moments earlier |

My breath fogged before me, the chill of December was biting in the dark of the late evening as I held onto the little satin bag with a tight grip and left the little shop behind as the woman by the counter wished me a Merry Christmas before the door closed. Uffh, cold and dreary, why does London feel colder than the countryside? I shivered and began my walk back toward the Rosemary Inn.

“Watch it!” a man shouted as I crossed the street and, before I knew it, I’d flung myself backwards, tripped on the slick cobblestone, and landed flatly on my back in the dirty snow. Great! Wonderful! This is absolutely a fantastic day! The Inn lost my package from Father, a horse trampled my foot, the barmaid spilt bear over my best dress, and now— “Ugh, I truly am a black cat crossing the street…”

“Miss, are you alright?” came the voice of another man, his slightly dirty face coming into view above me. “Need a helping hand?” he continued and I sighed. At least, the people are not too rude. A silver lining I assume one could call it. “Thank you, sir,” I said and reached for his slim hand flecked by soot. He helped me to my feet and I righted my dress, brushing off as much of the snow as I possibly could. “You ought to take care in the streets, miss.” “Yes, yes I ought, with my luck I shall surely be run over any minute. I am not suited for the big city, it seems.”

The man chuckled as I straightened. “Perhaps I ought to walk the lady back to her home, then?” “That is most kind of you, sir.” I took his stretched-out arm. “I must say I am surprised at how friendly London dwellers are. I have yet to meet an unkind person not willing to be of assistance.” I glanced at the man as he walked me down the street. Something was not quite right about him, though. “We are friendly people,” he said with another shallow chuckle that just did not sit right with me.

After another few steps, I came to a halt. “Thank you for your help, sir, but I can manage from here.” I released his arm but he grasped my wrist. “Sir, let go of me, please.” “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His smile was a leer and my stomach turned at the sight of his crooked teeth. “Let go.” “No can do,” he chuckled and tugged. “A pretty piece like you is—” I wrung my wrist free. “Goodbye,” I said harshly and instantly turned.

A shriek left my lips as the man grabbed around my waist and pulled me toward the alley behind, away from the lit-up main street. “Let go! Let go!” I screamed and pushed at his arm before fear filled me and I threw my head back only to feel his nose-bone connect with my skull. He stumbled back, pulling me around with his hand stuck in the loop of the satin pouch around my wrist.

“Fuck,” he snarled with a hiss and grabbed the string by twisting his hand. “You bitch.” He tugged and I backed up at the same time, ripping the string with the pouch falling to the ground as I spun to run away. No, the gift! Leaned back and grabbed it but the man hooked his dirty fingers on my cloak and tugged. The string tightened roughly around my throat and I coughed through a gasp.

Reaching up, I grabbed the end and tugged. My throat was freed and I slipped out of the man’s grip. Before I drew another breath, I bolted. My heart roared, my limbs shook and my eyes seemed to take everything in with a blur. Run! Run! Run! Where-, where-, where do I go?!

“Get back here!” the man shouted and as I looked over my shoulder he was taking up the hunt for me. My eyes widened and dread surged through my body, fuelling my legs and forcing me to go faster. I sobbed while panting, holding onto the destroyed satin pouch with a numb grip. My feet pounded the cobblestone and snow below as I raced down the street of central London.

I took a sharp turn, seeing the shape of the man still running toward me before I kept going as tears streaked my cheeks. Despite the blurry vision, the dark town-house caught my eyes. Judge Turpin! My brain screamed and my heart eased as I threw myself forward, stumbling on the raised sidewalk and got myself flung into the iron gates with a loud rattle as my chest heaved.

Looking back I saw the man come to a sudden halt as his eyes flicked between me and the towering house while I fumbled blindly for the handle to let myself through. I found it, pulled down, and fell backwards in a heap before I managed to scramble back from the gate on my bum.

“Miss Brimmer!” came the roar of the judge whose refuge I sought. Looking back, he came rushing down the steps. “J-Judge Turpin, my-, my lord,” I choked out in a stutter as I slumped on the snow-covered stone beneath; relieved. “Miss Brimmer,” he rumbled in a harsh snarl before his large hands grasped my trembling shoulders harshly, he did not let go even as he sat me up. “Are you—” His eyes latched on my sore throat, exposed at the loss of my cloak. “What, happened?” he snarled as those steely eyes turned impossibly hard.

I gulped, taking comfort in his steady hands. “I— He—” my voice trembled too much to make sense “—grabbed me, grabbed-, grabbed-, grabbed at—” “Little light, look at me. Look. at. me,” he demanded as my eyes flicked about in a rush and adrenaline-fuelled fear. “Are you unharmed?” he asked, his voice was a low thunder which hid none of the rage hardening his entire face. “Y-yes, sir. I’m-, I’m unharmed, my lord. Thank you. Thank you, sir,” I pushed out in a rush as his grip on me softened when our eyes locked.

Judge Turpin helped me to stand, keeping a sturdy grasp of my hand before he wrapped an arm around my waist when my knees weakened beneath me. “T-thank you, sir,” I whispered, my brain turning quiet and my voice lowering as I held on to him. “I shall have their head,” he snarled under his breath and I was not sure if I had heard him right.

He led me inside, all the way to the parlour where a fire crackled and granted both light and warmth in the dark. He released my hand and I stuttered at the loss of stability, the loss of his touch, but then he dragged one of the two beautiful chairs and helped me sit right by the warmth of the flames.

I shook and trembled as the adrenaline seeped out of me and a chill so utterly dreadful crawled into me in its wake. “Little light,” he said while going down on one knee before me — grasping my shaking hands in his warm ones. “Did you see who caused you harm?” he asked, his voice that harsh thunder that seemed to roll through me. “I saw… most of him. But, he was dirty and in shadow, and I do not know who he-, he-, he—” “We shall discuss it tomorrow, when you are no longer frightened,” he said with finality. I gulped, already feeling my shoulders slump in his powerful presence. “I… am not frightened,” I managed to push out.

Judge Turpin arched a brow at me, unimpressed. “I do not take kindly to lies, Miss Brimmer.” “It is not a lie, sir… I am here, with you, safe. I am-, I am in shock, not frightened any longer,” I said, truthfully. I dared believe nothing could harm me when such a man as he was close. His nostrils flared. “You, little light, are mistaken. I am not… safety.” “Yet I feel safe, my lord…” And, a bit faint, perhaps. Yes, yes perhaps a bit out of sorts and a bit… confused… and faint…

“Deep breath, Miss Brimmer. Take a deep breath,” he ordered, squeezing my hands to catch my focus. I drew a deep breath. Ragged as it was, it was still steadying. “Good.” It was a soft word despite the deep voice. “Let us get you sorted for the night.” I nodded. “Thank you, sir…” But as I stood with his sturdy hand wrapped around one of my smaller ones, there was no stability beneath my feet and the world swayed. I reached up to my head, trying to focus my gaze by pressing against my forehead but there was little I could do to stop my knees from buckling and my body from sagging.

He caught me. A sturdy arm around my waist while his other hand still gripped mine. “Easy, easy now,” he said quietly and there was something deadly in the tone of it. “S-sir… I…” But I could not get the words out when the world turned darker by the second. “Miss— Little light,” he said rapidly as I collapsed in his hold. The world slowly faded as I was hoisted up into strong arms against a broad chest with a thundering heart.

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 16: Thoughtful gifts [C5]

A/N: Well well well, I guess I have a thing for fainting women, huh? 🙈 Also, isn’t Turpin just the harshly-sweetest?! 😩👌 I’m adoring how he’s withheld and torturing himself with the whole situation rather than just taking what he wants as he usually does 👀🤭

I haven't gotten far on tomorrow's fic - I'm only about 500 words in - but hopefully,y I'll have time to finish it up later tonight so it's ready to go up early tomorrow 🥰👏 And Christmas is near now, we have celebrations with family over from the 20th to the 25th (hosting for both sides of the family this year too so I have so much to prepare 😅) but I feel good about this years Rickmas and how it's going so far so hopefully I can get ahead during this weekend and get a lot of writing done! 🙈❤

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[strawberrysalve]

ˏˋ headcanons ˎˊ ୨୧ anthony  hope  ♡  reader (  nsfw  )

✧ pet names. anthony is OBSESSED with being called pet names. ‘pretty boy’, ‘good boy’, ‘sweet boy’, ‘baby boy’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘honey’, ‘baby’, ‘angel’... all of the above!

✧ of course, he also has plenty of sweet nicknames for you, too, such as ‘princess’ and ‘my love’ and ‘darling’ – among many others. he shows his adoration for you through words because he feels that touch isn’t nearly enough to convey how much he feels for you.

✧ he has the biggest kink of all time for recieving praise. he needs to hear you tell him what a good boy he is and how good he’s making you feel. he just wants so badly to please you :(( <3

✧ he gets inexplicably embarrassed by his own come and tries to clean up his mess as quickly as possible.

✧ yours, however? that’s a completely different story. he loves tasting you. he’ll lick it off of his fingers or clean you off with his tongue in a heartbeat if you give him permission to do so.

✧ he moans “i love you” while you’re fucking him. ( and, of course, you always say it right back to him, because how could you not? )

✧ anthony likes it when you give him love bites and hickies – especially since he can hide them easily under his scarf. the thought of belonging to you is a major turn on for him.

✧ anthony is surprisingly loud in the act. he whimpers and whines a lot. he’d be shy and self-conscious about this at first, but once you reassure him that you like hearing his pretty noises and encourage him to keep making them for you, he would do so gladly.

✧ his eyes roll back when he’s close to finishing.

✧ his favorite position is cowgirl. he loves it when you’re on top of him, controlling the pace and riding him into the mattress.

✧ he’s very well-mannered in bed. he says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. he always asks for permission and he does exactly as he’s told. he’s a good boy!! <3

✧ he usually prefers for you to be very gentle with him, but he also likes it when you’re a little playfully mean from time to time. teasing him, making him beg just to be touched or kissed, edging him and denying his orgasm over and over... yeah. he likes that. of course, he always trusts you to hold him in your arms afterwards and tell him how much you love him. usually he’ll fall asleep like that as you’re stroking his hair and whispering sweet things to him.

✧ prior to the two of you living together, he’ll let you fuck him in absolutely any place you can find that’s private. he spends his life moving between the bountiful and various docks/ports, so it’s incredibly rare to have a moment just between the two of you. a risky quickie is occasionally necessary, given the circumstances.

✧ in addition to that, need i remind you that anthony is LOUD. you may have to let him bury his face in your neck or maybe even put your hand over his mouth in order to keep him quiet and not get caught.

✧ he has a kink for being overpowered. it’s particularly evident in the way he reacts whenever you pin his wrists to the mattress or push him up against a wall.

✧ one of his absolute favorite things in the world is when you’re spooning him and you reach around to jerk him off from behind. the combination of being held in your arms and the pleasure of you touching him is everything he could ask for.

✧ if you tug on his hair or bite his lip while you’re kissing him, he’ll moan into your mouth.

✧ when it comes to oral, he’s more of a giver than a receiver; he simply adores pleasing you with his mouth. making you moan, feeling your hands tangled in his hair, hearing you praise him and tell him how good he’s making you feel, getting to taste you once you’ve come on his tongue... it’s heaven for him. he especially loves when you ride his face.

✧ contrary to popular belief, i don’t think he’s entirely clueless about sex prior to meeting you. he’s a sailor, so even in spite of how puritanical people tended to be in the victorian era, he’s certainly heard more than his fair share of crude stories from the men in his crew, as well as the ones he’s met during his travels. that being said, he’s still definitely a virgin before the two of you cross paths, and he doesn’t have any real sexual experience yet.

✧ he definitely likes being fucked with a strap-on. do with that what you will.

✧ he’s turned on by being ( very lightly ) choked. just feeling your hand brush against his neck or your fingers wrap around his throat while you’re kissing him drives him MAD.

✧ he giggles whenever you accidentally brush against or kiss a ticklish spot during sex.

✧ he likes for you to grab his hips and pin them down while you suck him off. a recurring theme here is that he REALLY likes getting pinned down.

✧ he gets so insanely turned on by dirty talk. all it takes is for you to tease him about how eager he is or talk about all the filthy things you’re going to do to him, and he’s already a blushing, moaning mess.

✧ no matter how rough or intense things may get, the romantic aspect of sex is very important to anthony. in his eyes, sex is a way for you to feel and convey your love for one another, and so other aspects of affection have to be present during lovemaking. kisses, hand holding, cuddling, declarations of love, just to name a few.

[trashpidgeon48]

Sweeney Todd Fic Recs

So, I’ve been reading almost exclusively Sweeney Todd fic for the last few months and I wanted to gather up some of my favorites to present to y’all. (Fair warning most of these are Sweenett fics)

Pushing Daisies by FelixCited

Rating: Explicit

Words: 55k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Wonderful Canon divergent fic. Starts with the Barkers arrival in London and goes from there. Equal parts Sad/Spicy/Sweet/I want to bash the characters skulls in cause they’re so stupid.

Any fic by worstpies

Rating: Almost always Explicit

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Very smutty Sweenett smut ahead, be warned. But within each piece, you also find very interesting character studies, especially relating to my girl Nellie. For me, the character studies are the best part.

Any fic by armandjolras

Rating: Almost always Explicit

Ships: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett, Lucy Barker/Nellie Lovett, Nellie Lovett/Mrs. Mooney

Once again, another author rec. Once again, more smutty character studies. But besides the standard Sweenett fare, we also have some lovely femslash, as well as a wonderful Lucy Barker character study. I want to inject this author’s writing into my veins sometimes.

give you my wild, give you a child by stonehearts

Rating: Mature

Words: 6k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Cute, mildly angsty pregnancy au. Sweeney starts out incredibly reluctant but he comes around. Trying to earn his father of the year status back after returning from Australia.

not a lot, just forever by stonehearts

Rating: Gen

Words: 6k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Another pregnancy AU, but this time we’re at the beach and Johanna is here. This fic is such a treat because we get Johanna POV, that is so rare and it is so well done in this fic in particular.

Barber, Baker, Beggar, Bride by demonbarberofbeepbeep

Rating: Mature

Words: 16k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Lucy Barker

Sweeney stops being an idiot and realizes that the Beggar woman is his wife, Lucy. And then all the angsty complications that go along with it.

A Slice of Afterlife by Moonlightshadoww

Rating: Teen

Words: 12k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Ghost AU that goes by Beetlejuice logic. Mrs. Mooney buys the bakery after the events of the musical and they try to haunt her out. It’s a very silly and enjoyable fic.

something like love with nowhere to go by Macremae

Rating: Teen

Words: 7k [Complete]

Ship: Gen

Johanna POV character study as she reads Sweeney’s letters to her Post-Canon. Wonderful exploration of Johanna’s upbringing, complicated relationship with her father, and grief.

Passing Strange by Pamena

Rating: T

Words: 125k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

An oldy but a goody on ff.net. Nellie and Sweeney are fated to be together and so the fates make them immortal after the events of canon until they admit that they love each other.

Death is for the Alive by Defying.Expectations

Rating: T

Words: 184k [Complete]

Ship: Sweeney Todd/Nellie Lovett

Another ff.net fic. Post-Canon Afterlife AU with an incredibly creative version of the afterlife.

Bitter Freedoms by MoonlitSerenity

Rating: T

Words: 259k

Ship: Gen

More ff.net fic. Pre-Canon. A teenage Johanna ends up running away and shipped off to Botany Bay for stealing and meeting her father, Benjamin Barker. This fic is mostly complete, just without an epilogue so the ending doesn’t feel as satisfying.

Anyway, these are all the fics that I have for you today. If I’m missing any good fics, let me know. Also shoutout to my own writing on A03, plenty of Sweenett goodness to be found.

[blizzard-of-ozz]

Okay okay Good Omens AU idea

Good Omens x Sweeney Todd

Crowley is Sweeney Todd and Aziraphale is the pie lady. There's also romantic subplot of course !! (Maybe it's more plot then subplot)

Also have some Fanart (not mine, all credits to original creator)

[demonbarberofbeepbeep]

Pirelli x Sweeney is kind of viable. Judge, Fogg, Beadle, Anthony all totally non viable Sweeney pairings. I guess he has a neutral relationship (no relationship ) with the bird seller lol. So maybe something is there . Could be there. Why am I thinking about this

[kaalee]

Nick/Charlie, 4.5k, rated M

total fluff, rather cracky, completely self-indulgent way of processing all my FEEEELINGS about seeing Joe Locke in Sweeney Todd.

SUMMARY: Nick and Charlie (in their 40s), go see Joe Locke in Sweeney Todd, because Nick is currently obsessed with how talented he is. Charlie arranges this trip as an anniversary present. They are adorably in love.

EXCERPT:

At the theatre, Nick is bouncing in his seat again, and Charlie puts his hand on Nick’s knee to still it.

“Nick,” he hisses. “You have got to stop moving. People are going to hate us.”

“How can anyone hate anyone right now?” Nick asks. “We’re all about to see Joe Locke. He’s like a panacea for everything that ails the world.”

[reachexceedinggrasp]

It remains a perpetual annoyance of mine when people take one character with dual identities and personify their mask into an entirely separate individual as if the alias gained sentience and its own corporal form.

[sky-neverending]

i thought this was funny and that Eddie would lovvveee Sweeney Todd so erm here. also Gaten plays Toby so i wanted to make a joke about it

New York City was one of the most interesting places Steve had ever been. There was never a dull moment; everything moved so fast that if you blinked you might miss something incredible. That’s the word Eddie kept using for it. Incredible.

Steve liked New York, he did. But where he liked it, Eddie loved it. He loved the chaos, the way nothing ever stopped. It was like him, in a way. Always going, going, going.

So when Steve decided to take Eddie to see Sweeney Todd, he knew it was going to end in a lack of sleep for him and a workout for his eardrums.

He was right.

Eddie liked the Sweeney Todd movie. It was one of his favorites, in fact. He could, and did, sing the entirety of ‘A Little Priest’ at least once a week.

But it didn’t compare to the Broadway show in the slightest.

“Can we see it again?” was the first thing Eddie said as he bounced out of the theater, similar to the way a kid hyped up on sugar would ask to go back to the candy store. “God, that was so good!”

Steve laughed, taking Eddie’s hand. It felt right to do that here, in the middle of the crowd. “I only bought tickets for one night, Eds.”

This statement didn’t stop the smile on Eddie’s face from growing. “And I'm so glad you did. Thank you for this.” He dragged Steve along the street, maneuvering around groups of people stopping to get their picture taken in front of the signs. “Hey, do you think that Toby kid kind of looked like Dustin?”

“Yeah,” Steve said after thinking about it for a moment. “He definitely did.”

Eddie smiled wider, if that was possible. “Glad you agree,” he said, spinning Steve around. “The history of the world, my sweet!” He sang loudly. Steve pulled him back, giving him a look.

“There’s other people out here,” he hissed.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie stopped bouncing and calmed down a bit. “Yeah, fine.” He clutches his playbill to his chest. “But when we get home I’m not shutting up for a week, I hope you know that.”

“I would expect two.” Steve remarked. Eddie winked at him.

“Hey, can we go to the M&M store?” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer before dragging Stebe along behind him.

[broadwayinabox]

Chapters 1-6 up with more to come!

[nokturnal-me]

Warmest greetings to you all, my name’s Nokturnal and I’m currently in the process of writing this monstrosity of a crack fic. It involves multiple characters from different fandoms meeting and interacting at house party. It’s extremely unhinged and I hope at least someone gets a kick out of it and their jimmies rustled in the best way possible. Thanks in advance for your time!

[goldenzingy46butwriteblr]

Sweeney Todd Is A Stupid Name

What if Lucy hadn't died? Surely she would've objected to the stupid fucking name Sweeney picked up while he was gone.

don’t worry guys you can always rely on me to come back from the dead with a stupid 800 word crackfic for a completely different fandom

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 4: Darkest Night [C1]

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

A/N: It's day four of Rickmas and IT'S TIME FOR TURPIN! 😍😍😍 Honestly, this year, every fic is taking a turn I wasn't really expecting - Turpin story isn't any different, I'm apparently changing things up a bit this year? 👀 Well, it's all the more fun when you don't really know what's going to happen, isn't it? 🤭🙈

It's currently 8am as I write this note, hubby is in another country and I'm sipping on my coffee while my daughter is gobbling up her breakfast like a champ - chatting about the Christmas calendar story we're reading (multitasking over here 😅) - and as soon as I've dropped her off at preschool I'll be posting and then digging into work. I hope you're having a great start to your day and that you're ready for some Judge-Love 👏❤

(Also, I am IN LOVE with this OC - she is a hoot to write, and I hope you'll adore her and the never-ending bad luck following her through life 😂👏)

Tags/TW’s: First Meeting, Instant Attraction, Black Cat Energy, Bad Luck Afflicted FMC, Minor Injuries, Lost In the Woods, He Saves Her, Toppled Carriage, Travelling/Looking For Marriage

Word Count: 1.8k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Darkest Night

“Well, this is rather unpleasant,” I murmured as the wind picked up speed and my cloak floated about my thick dress. “Why must things always go astray? Can I not, for once—” I glared at the cloud-covered sky above “—have some form of peace? Hmm? Is that too much to ask of this wretched world?” the wind howled at me and I huffed. Apparently…

The woods were dense around me, the narrow path covered in ice and snow hard to traverse as the minimal daylight of December faded. “No matter, no matter. I shall find my way, as I always do, one way or another. No more to it.” My words were perky but my insides had gone stiff with knotting nerves.

I was not one for foolish adventures, or unplanned strolls through dark woods drenched in snow — yet, as always, I found myself up against the faiths and had no choice in the matter. A common occurrence, truly. No matter the endeavour, no matter the situation, I always found myself in a worse state than intended. Bad luck, some would say. I was not much for such sentiments of the faiths favouring through the roll of a dice with only two faces — if I were, I would still say they were wrong. Bad luck would be an understatement regarding myself.

I trudged on, the darkness tightening, and I held out hope for the road leading me toward London not being too far. I needed to find help, not that there was any rush to it. My coachman lay dead in the snow, the horses had broken legs so I had shot them to spare them the misery of a slow death and what valuables I had with me in the cramped carriage were not of significant monetary value but a sentimental one.

“It is merely walking, no danger or true hardship to it,” I said to myself in an effort to calm the nerves knotting themselves ever tighter in the pit of my stomach. “I shall find help, and that is all there is to it. Nothing to fret about.” Yet my hands trembled as I gripped my coat and purse — that I would not leave behind, given the money father had sent me off with to keep myself fed and with a roof above my head for my little journey.

⁛•⁛

I was utterly lost. The dark of night coiled around me and no matter how hard I tried to see the road beneath my feet it was all darkness. My cheek ached from a branch that had snapped against my face, my feet from the never-ending trudging, and my very bones seemed chilled. I drew a deep breath and stopped. “Well, this is no good,” I huffed between shivering breaths. “I shall find myself more lost if I keep on.” What else I was supposed to do, I did not know. But running around in the woods in the pitch dark was not a good idea.

Something bubbled in me. Something horribly strong and in need of release, right this instance. I swallowed and drew a deep breath to stave it off. It would not yield to my wishes. A blood-curdling scream of anger rose from the depths of my soul and burst from my lips as all the so-called bad luck of my entire existence of twenty-six very long years on this wretched earth demanded to be let loose.

I screamed and huffed, stomped my foot and kicked the snow beneath as the rage I always managed to hide and fight decided enough was enough. I screamed again, my voice breaking into a quiet sob as the rage gave way to fear. I screamed once more with all the strength I had and all the pain of an ever-elongating list of things going wrong grew once more.

“If there is a god up there among the clouds and stars, you best believe I shall come up there and wring your eternal neck if you do not help me right this instance! I have suffered enough!” I snarled with my eyes fixed on the dense darkness above. It was, beyond a doubt, the darkest night of my life thus far and whatever powers were at play — or whatever unearthly powers played with my life — I was no longer in the mood. If I am to perish here, in the dark and cold, then you best believe I’m going to make sure you lot up there or down below get what you deser—

A glimmer flickered to life, far off in the dark. An orange, tiny light drew ever closer before it turned into two little lights. The smallest sound of bells reached me, carried by the wind and I stood transfixed as the lights grew brighter and bigger. What in the world?

The sound of hooves pounding snow and reins smacking came the moment the lights were bright enough to show the shape of two horses as they pulled a runner-adorned carriage through the snow. “Anyone there?!” called a man. “Hello?!” he called again. “Here! Sir! Here!” I called out, waving my arm as the carriage drew close enough for me to see the coach.

The man said something I could not hear, his head turned as if he spoke to whoever was inside the grand carriage painted black with golden details. The black, giant horses trotted toward me and I felt such relief I wished to cry. Finally, thank you!

The carriage stopped and the coachman climbed down from his seat, I moved closer to meet the man. “My lady, are you well? We heard screams,” the man said. “I have been wandering these woods for hours after my carriage toppled. I am so thankful to see someone come,” I said, my voice brighter than it ought to have been but that was my way. “Your carriage toppled, my lady?” “Yes, quite a ways away I believe.” “Were is your coach?” the man asked, his eyes wide as he took in my most likely dishevelled appearance. “You are bleeding, my lady.” I blinked at the man, a bit confused. “I am?” “Your head— My lord! The lady is injured!” the man called back toward the carriage as I reached to touch my head.

I felt no wetness, just a crusty sensation atop my skin and a jagged gash in my scalp told me all I needed to know. Why, of course, I am injured, why ever not add that to the list of things gone wrong? I sighed and felt the biting wind nip at my cheeks as the man steadied me by grabbing my elbow gently. “My lady, we shall—”

The door to the carriage opened with a bang, pushed from the inside. I jolted at the sudden noise, the coachman releasing me instantly while straightening as a large man with broad shoulders and elegant movements stepped out. The snow crunched under his boot-clad feet and a breath lodged itself in my throat. He was older, but by the heavens, he was handsome in a striking — imposing — manner.

The regal nose, the grey locks peeking out from his top hat and the beautiful attire he wore with golden detailing highlighted by the black fabric it was stitched into formed a striking image with the flicking lantern flames granting a golden hue to everything it touched.

He strode up in three quick strides. I could not find my words or manners for a moment as he gazed down upon me with steely eyes and his lips set in a thin line. “My lord,” I finally said, curtsying deeply before straightening. “Injured indeed,” he said and I could have sworn mother nature took a great part in his voice — as if she lent a bit of her thunder to the man. “Come, we shall not have you out in the cold in such a state,” he said harshly, in a commanding manner I had never heard the likes of before. “Thank you, sir,” I said in pure reflex, ingrained as it was in me, while my mind lingered on the question of who this incredible man was I found myself being saved by in the dead of night in the woods.

“My lady,” he said and looked down upon me with those harsh eyes I found myself wanting to bow beneath — he was simply too imposing. “What may I call such a lovely creature?” he continued and I blinked, suddenly struggling to find my words even though that had never been an issue before. “Julianne Brimmer, my Lord.” It felt strange to not have my usual bright voice yet in his presence a need for a more subdued manner seemed to overtake me. “Mrs Brimmer—” “Oh, no, sir. Miss, Miss Brimmer.” He arched a brow as I spoke hastily to correct the man of his assumption regarding my marital state. I understood, given my age I ought to have been married to a gentleman by now — that was, after all, why I was headed to London. Finding a gentleman at the Christmas Ball or New Year Festival was my last hope before yet another year would be added to my life and even fewer prospects would appear.

The stoic man with a rigid posture fit for a grand man arched a brow at me. “Miss?” I nodded. “Indeed, my lord.” “Well, Miss Brimmer, in the carriage, if you would. The night is dark and one never knows what horrors hide in it. The world is a dangerous place, miss.” I gulped. He spoke so harshly yet there was something utterly alluring that I ought not to have been feeling drawn toward at all. “Yes, my lord. Thank you, sir,” I said quietly as his glare was harsh and his aura far too intimidating.

Yet, despite it all, I found myself climbing into the man’s carriage with the help of the coachman. The Lord himself came in after and the door was shut, stealing most of the light from the out lanterns and giving my heart a spike in its thumping.

I sat as straight as I possibly could and my eyes found his already gazing upon me, unreadable in their harshness yet utterly captivating with their secrets hidden so well. “Sir,” I began quietly. “May I ask who it is that is saving me on this darkest of nights?” He arched a brow at me. “You are unaware? Not from the area, either, perhaps?” “No, sir. I have travelled for three days by carriage to attend the Christmas Ball and New Year Festival, I am afraid I am not familiar with the London area in the slightest.” His lips quirked in a slight smirk. “I, Miss Brimmer, am Judge Turpin. High Judge of London.” “A judge?” I asked, feeling relief flood my blood with warmth. “What a relief to be saved by such an upstanding citizen as you, Judge Turpin.” And such a handsome one at that, too. Perhaps the winds are changing and the bad luck others blame me for being afflicted with is turning?

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 8: Never-ending Consequences [C2]

A/N: She really has no idea, huh? 👀 Let's see what happens next time around, if the bad luck is really turning or if our dear Miss Julianne Brimmer is in way over her head and utterly unaware of it...

Either way, I love her and I'm itching to keep writing this story 😍👏 What do you think? Is her luck turning, or no?

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[strawberrysalve]

ˏˋ headcanons ˎˊ ୨୧ anthony  hope  ♡  reader (  fluff  )

✧ if you get cold easily, anthony will constantly let you borrow his jacket and hold your hands to keep you warm.

✧ he’s a big spoon in the sense that he clings to you like a teddy bear when you’re cuddling.

✧ he’s afraid of bugs, so if any creepy crawlies turn up in your house, he hides behind you while you deal with it.

✧ his favorite kisses to give are forehead and hand kisses. his favorite kisses to receive are nose, cheek, and neck kisses.

✧ he has a journal that he brings with him everywhere in order to document his travels. it just so happens to also be full of poetry he’s written about you.

✧ he’s very comfortable with PDA. he’s gotten so used to holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you in public that half the time he doesn’t even notice that he’s done it.

✧ he loves it when you stroke his hair or run your fingers through it. he’ll even ask you to brush it for him from time to time.

✧ anthony has a habit of rambling about things that he’s particularly interested in, which most people he encounters are annoyed by. one of many things that he appreciates about you is that not only are you willing to listen, but you find it charming.

✧ in turn, he’s also a very good listener. he always makes sure you know that all of his attention is on you, and that he cares about what you’re saying.

✧ any time he has to travel somewhere without you, he brings you back a little present.

✧ he really enjoys slow dancing with you. he’ll sometimes even sing to you during.

✧ he likes for you to sit on his lap. whether it be to read, or fall asleep, or just to be close to him. he’ll often wrap his arms around your waist and put his head on your shoulder.

[barbossas-wench]

I wish there's stage version of Sweeney Todd x reader fics

[littlerobbinphantomhive19]

My birthday has come and gone once again and my lovely husband took me out to dinner. My brainrot didn’t let me have the day off so… here you go.

Imagine if you will reader going to a Japanese restaurant for their birthday where they seat multiple parties together at random. They call readers party of one, and two or three more since about 10 people can be seated at the same table. Reader hears a highly familiar last name (one of his characters like Hanson, Crane, Todd, Rainey, ect.) but doesn’t think anything of it. Someone takes a seat next to reader and by habit they look over seeing the person which that familiar last name belongs to. They try not to draw attention to the fact that they know who they have sitting next to them but their face is completely red. Johnny notices, pulls this face 👇🏻 and decides to have some fun.

“I know you know who I am sweetheart. If you keep it between us I’ll give you a reward after everything’s done here.”

What follows I have no idea but I also thought of him giving reader one of his earrings (the safety pin ones) kinda like Claire did with John Bender in The Breakfast Club.

This one isn’t as great as my last post and certainly isn’t as coherent but I couldn’t let it stay in my brain.