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Twisted Nostalgia

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Summary: Unrelated bits I wrote for different prompts over at the 'Disney Kink Meme' - so, no BtVS. But does include: Atlantis, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Alice in Wonderland, Kim Possible, Peter Pan and more.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Non-BtVS CrossoverssmolderFR181825,6031118,46713 Aug 1216 Feb 14No

NOTE: This chapter is rated FR21 which is above your chosen filter level. You can set your preferred maximum rating using the drop-down list in the top right corner of every page.

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My Princesses (Maleficent/Snow/Cinderella/Ariel)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Cinderella, and the Littlest Mermaid belong to Disney.
Prompt: Maleficent femdoming the hell out of one of the other lovely Disney ladies!!! I want complete humiliation, mindfuckery, the works. JUST MAKE IT HAPPEN!

A/N: *Warning* this is psychologically rather dark.




Part 1: Bound

She comes back in another world. Maleficent refuses to think of it as re-birth, to acknowledge that she died. But there is a moment of confusion because this place is so similar to her own.

And when she stretches out with her magic – darkness, her darkness, moving with a slow magma like crawl making animal freeze in terror (wanting to run, but unable, because the unidentifiable panic that has frozen their muscles) – Maleficent has to laugh long and proud because yes, there is magic here and other magic users.

But they are weaker than her.

Much weaker.

And once she has a chance to explore she finds that there is a Princess nearby too. Just as fair as her lovely Aurora but with raven hair instead of flaxen (something she finds appealing to her personal aesthetic) - and she is in an enchanted sleep as well.

She bids her time waits for the perfect moment – and it comes. The second the Prince kisses Snow White and she feels the spell break, waking the girl, she steps into the clearing throwing one of her lightning bolt spells directly at his head as he looks up in surprise. There is a moment of stunned inaction from the dwarfs that she ruthlessly exploits, letting her green flames rush over them killing them all in seconds.

When she is pleased that her work is done Maleficent turns around to face the opened glass coffin. Snow White is sitting up and rubbing her eyes looking slightly dazed and later Maleficent will never be entirely sure how much she saw.

It doesn’t really matter anyway. The Princess is hers now - it is only fitting. She won this round.

And her lovely lovely princess is bound to her by something so much stronger than magic or physical chains. So used to being dependent that even though a part of her deep down knows that the face that looms over hers as she is pressed into the sheets is the one that brutally murdered her previous caretakers and her “true love” - she won’t flee, won’t even attempt to run. And where would she run to anyway? She has nowhere to go. No one else to take her.

And because Maleficent was the one to take her (the one that continues to take from her more and more. Please. Please, more.). She will continue to lie down upon black silk, to gasp and arch her back. To plea and beg and grow to be grateful to the other woman for not just leaving her out there in that clearing. Leaving her alone.

She doesn't want to be alone.

Maleficent absentmindedly strokes the dark hair of the girl lying with skin that is almost equally pale to her own pressed up against her side.

“Snow White,” she asks and smirks at the way the once supposedly innocent girl shivers and presses into her, at just the way she says her name, “are there more Princesses in this world?”

She watches as those wide eyes study her, quickly registering the meaning behind the simple question (what it will mean for another place, for another girl) before she answers.

“I’d like a sister, Mistress,” Snow White says with a spark of darkness.

And Maleficent smiles.





Part 2: Classical


The crying from the beautiful brightly clad maiden beside her, that had continued almost unabated since she had been found at their doorstep, stops abruptly at the first screech that breaks the night air.

There is terror on the faces of everyone in the throne room as they look towards the ceiling, towards the sky. “Was that a dragon?" one of the nobles asks, his voice going up on the end in disbelief.

No one answers him or will say otherwise one way or another – no one will say he is being silly, that dragons are a thing of storybooks. No one will even dare state out loud that they fear the same.

Cinderella is made aware of the presence beside her again when she hears the lady almost panting – and she feels a wave of compassions for the fear the young woman must be experiencing. Coming to the castle lost and looking for shelter and now this. She turns and reaches out to give her hand a comforting squeeze but just as she does the dragon (and oh – sounding like that it must be a dragon) gave another roar and there was a load crash that rocked the building and caused bits of dust to fall as something collided with the castle.

Maleficent,” her companion breathed out. Her eyes closed (the curl of those dark dark eye lashes stark against her pale cheeks), with a look of ecstasy on her face that made Cinderella blush. But somehow, somehow she couldn’t look away either.

“Is that the dragon’s name?” one of the men nearby tried to question the woman that clearly knew more than they all initially had thought, but she ignored him completely.

Instead, her hand tightened around Cinderella’s and she smiled, an upturn of ruby red, even before she opened her eyes and when she did they almost seemed to glow. “Maleficent. She’s coming. For me – for us. I’m hers. And so are you now. We’re going to be sisters.”

Cinderella took a deep breath and thought of that word. Sisters. What it meant to her. She had never had one, not really. Her step-sisters might have had each other in their own at time abusive way but it was something was entirely excluded from - something she had always burned to be a part of.

And there was another thing this offered now – an out in a way. She had seen how actual real love had never truly bloomed between her Prince and her. How the initial fascination had stultified and then soured into annoyance. Especially when she hadn’t produced a heir in a timely fashion. Cinderella might be young and naïve but she was well aware of what happened to royal wives (especially those for which there was no love) who failed to conceive.

They were gotten rid of. Replaced by someone more...fertile.

For what it was worth, being taken off by a dragon was a classical ending for a princess.

So, this fit her too. Perhaps not as smoothly as a glass slipper upon her foot, but maybe things didn’t have to be as clean when there was enough power behind them. And seeing Maleficent’s dragon form burst through the castle celling was far more spectacular than any fairy magic she had ever witnessed.

Especially afterwards when the dragon turned into a woman (a woman with the same elegance and angles as the beast. A woman whom no one would ever doubt wielded all the strength that dragon did) and Snow ran to her instantly.

Then her fellow Princess turned back around and held out a hand looking expectant.

And with no expression on her face Cinderella clamly stood and she went. Because, yes, this fit her too - crossing the room to a dragon woman’s smirk of smug pleasure and her new sister’s unabashed joy with begging and cries of disbelief and shock at her back.

There was a certain power in that as well.



Part 3: My Princesses


Ariel was perhaps the easiest to mold.

She was all too willing to give up anything, give up herself in her wish to be human.

A wish that Maleficent easily granted.

And then, of course her new sisters were there instantly at her side to show the grateful scarlet haired former mermaid the ways of the human world.

Why would she ever want to leave this place she had always pinned for and dreamed of?

She would be willing to do anything to stay.

Anything.

She gets quite good at doing anything. She is quick to show her enthusiasm (Please don’t send me away. Anything.). And the other girls are always comforting and gentle.

Maleficent is not.

Maleficent is powerful and rough. Holding her down and claiming her in a way that blends human and animal to her mind – a way that she is familiar with and responds to from somewhere deep within.

Ariel comes to crave both. The softness of her sisters’ hands – so many hands moving on her skin, on parts she never had before. And the way Maleficent will growl, “My Princess,” before her fingers enter her.

She won’t go back.

Maleficent calls the three of them “My Princesses”; her tone makes it not quite an endearment or a title but more as if she is saying “my pet.” The way her voice curls though never fails to make them shiver. Makes them want to get on their knees, on the floor, lie down on that large bed with their fellow sisters and just wait. Wait for whatever she wants them to do, whatever she will give them.

Because Cinderella and Ariel came to understand in their own time what Snow knew instantly (clung to instantly). That there was a reason behind Maleficent’s words – that to her they were still Princesses (that she had no wish to strip them of that even though she could. Oh, none of them doubted she had the power to pull that piece of identity from them) but they no longer belonged to a kingdom, or a Prince, or a family, or to themselves.

They belonged to her.

"My Princesses."
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