Another Fic
Title: Wish-fulfillment
by: industrialdoom
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and all that jazz.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Todd/Turpin/Anthony
Warnings: Blood, razors, I guess semi-non-consensual themes, and graphic m/m sex.
Wordcount: 2,150
It had been weeks since his last customer had entered his shop. Turpin was also gone. The possibility of Todd enacting his vengeance had slipped through his fingers. He had been there on the edge of the precipice and, due to both his own stupidity and naivety he had lost his chance and never took the plunge. As a result depression had begun to set in. It began slowly, taking up the dark compartments in his psyche, where his rage had once smoldered within him like a house fire. Todd no longer paced in front of his window, idly daydreaming of his revenge no longer held any pleasure for him. Once, he had thought idly of how he would lure the demonic judge back to his tonsorial parlor, and kill him. Now he paced in front of the window waiting for his time to finally run out, leaving his dreams in the dust.
He paced along the window, staring out into the void, as he had done for hours before. He knew no one would be coming in today, it was already too late in the day, and most people were at home with their families. He trudged over towards his musty gray cot, sitting down on it. He hung his head in his hands, pitying himself. Here he was, stuck with that infernal busy-body Mrs. Lovett. How he loathed her. He knew she wanted him, and somehow she couldn’t get it through her thick skull that she repulsed him. He never returned her friendly touch, if anything; he was cruel to her with his indifference.
He finally gave up and lay back on the cot and tried to sleep. He didn’t even bother touching himself. It’d been weeks since his encounter with Anthony, and the poor sod hadn’t remembered in the morning. Sweeney was now beyond caring, he was content to watch his mortal shell wither away into the dull background. He envisioned it even. He could see how his pale skin would eventually just melt into the dirty cot, becoming one with the unseen noise in the room. He brought his hands up in front of his face, looking at the scars that had come to mottle his skin. The thin red lines -some fading away now into only pinkish raised ridges- made his pale, gracile fingers look like they had been invaded by some foreign root system. Folding his hands, he allowed himself to try to sleep.
He had barely shut his eyes before he heard the bell on the door ring, and he had to drag himself out of bed in order to greet his next victim. Opening his eyes and swinging his bare feet
“I remember what happened that night Mr. Todd.” Shit, the barber thought to himself. The game was up. The only acknowledgment Sweeney felt appropriate to give at this point was a muffled noncommittal grunt. He stood up and walked over to the other corner of the room next to his barber’s chair.
“Mr. Todd I know what you are.” Anthony said, with a hint of a threat hiding behind his wavering voice. Moving further into the room, cautiously, he paused for a moment and the continued,”And I am one too.” Sweeney Todd stood frozen. For the first time in a long time he felt truly threatened by this… this boy. Rational thought told him, why on earth would Anthony of all people, who was obviously threatened by him, make this accusation. And on top of that, admit to his guilt in the scenario. Was there any logic to this? The answer was no. Before the barber could speak Anthony cut in, “and Judge Turpin is on his way. I know what you did to him. And I know how much you liked it. I saw you both, writhing like animals on the floor before I walked in through the door. I saw how you greedily devoured his flesh. I also know how much you want to cut him. Every time I see you eyeing those razors, Mr. Todd. I can see it in your eyes. Like the eyes of an animal. I can see how you hunger for it. I can see how badly you want to take the razor and thrust it into his flesh, and watch him draw his terminal breath and laugh as he dies. I want to watch you do it.”
In a surreal stupor Todd turned towards Anthony, about to speak. Before he could say anything, Todd heard footsteps on the stairs. “I told him, stealing his daughter wasn’t your idea and that your collaboration was forced because of what I knew about you.” Turpin then strode in through the door. Silent, he came in and then stood beside Anthony, discarding his coat onto the floor. Todd stood still, still in a state of shock.
“Mr. Hope called me here today in order to ensure that there are no more…. Misunderstandings…..” The judge continued while slowly moving closer to him.
“Yes sir, no more misunderstandings” Anthony said, walking over towards the barber’s char. The barber unconsciously slid his hand down his thigh, caressing his razors protectively. Turpin put his hands on Sweeney’s thin shoulders and lead him around in front of Anthony, who now resided in the chair. He seemed contented watching this delicate scenario play out. Turpin’s hand slid from the barber’s shoulders to around his middle, fumbling with the buttons of his vest.
“We don’t want anymore misunderstandings, do we Mr. Todd? We don’t want anything to happen to you, now do we? We don’t want anyone thinking anything about you…. Your death would be…. Most unfortunate.” Turpin said, pressing up against Sweeney, grinding himself into his back. Todd could feel the heat of the man behind him, the pressure of the man’s hands on his torso was making him increasingly nervous. He shut his eyes for a moment, and then looked down at Anthony. The young sailor just sat there, watching his every move, as if Todd was another primitive native of a strange land. While he was momentarily distracted Anthony took both of his razors out of Todd’s holster for them. Taking them and with them closed, drawing them down his thigh. He stopped touching Todd and handed them to the judge, who twirled them between his fingers.
Todd went to grab for them but Turpin stepped back and opened one. “We don’t want any more… misunderstandings…. Mr. Todd.” He said, brandishing one in the air. Anthony stepped behind Todd and grabbed the barber’s arms pinning them behind him, rendering him immobile. Turpin moved in closer, taking the razor and dragging the edge along Todd’s jaw line, leaving a trail of crimson. Todd stiffened, not daring to move, because he knew it may well end his life. What was Anthony doing if he wanted to help him? Turpin dragged the razor down Sweeney’s neck, cutting through his neckerchief. Then he continued to drag it along down his front, slicing through his shirt. Todd didn’t even flinch; the razor was so sharp, he barely felt it when it parted his flesh. Turpin closed the razor and tore Sweeney’s shirt off him. Little rivulets of blood streaked down his torso, starkly contrasting his pale skin. Anthony kicked Todd’s feet out from under him, causing him to fall in a heap on the floor. Turpin placed his foot on the barber’s back prevent him from getting up. Anthony quickly undid his pants and took off his shirt while Turpin did the same. Now both half naked, they rolled Todd over, onto his back. Todd’s face was plastered with a scowl; though it was beyond apparent he was enjoying it.
Anthony straddled the barber, and Turpin handed him one of Todd’s razors. As soon as it was in the young sailor’s hand, Sweeney Todd’s eyes went wide and he let out a small gasp. Delicately, he took Todd’s razor, carved a path, starting at his clavicle, then slowly down his chest, ending at his navel. Anthony took up the razor again and sliced through the button holding Todd’s trousers together.
Anthony stood up, giving the bloodied barber a chance to get off the floor. Hefting his pale, bleeding body off the floor, Todd turned with a scowl to Turpin and Anthony. Momentarily shocked by the look of pure rage on Sweeney’s face, Anthony didn’t make any attempt as Todd snatched the razor out of his hand and threw him onto the barber’s chair. Todd gave Turpin a look that kept him from trying to intervene. The judge was content to watch anyway. Todd opened the razor, staring at it as it glinted in the limited light in the room, and then held it to Anthony’s throat. He just slightly pressed it into the boy’s flesh, and a droplet of blood formed and oozed out of the small incision. Todd stepped back and dragged him out of the chair, and Turpin finally decided to intervene on the young sailor’s behalf. He quickly stepped behind the barber and held his blade a few centimeters in front of his neck. Todd bristled with rage, Turpin could feel his whole body tense as he held him, and he ran his free hand all over his bloody chest. Todd almost seemed pleased that this was occurring, as if being controlled offered him some kind of relief. When Turpin slid his experienced hand down his front, Todd gasped. Anthony walked over and tore off his trousers and pants. Turpin let go of him and stepped back slightly, admiring his sallow skin. He decided it needed some color. He dragged the razor down his spinal column, the red liquid trickling down his flesh covered vertebrae. He took the razor and held it up to the light, allowing Todd a glimpse of his blood coating it. Seeing it drenching his razor, he inhaled sharply and stiffened.
He brought the razor back in front of the barber’s throat, tantalizingly close to his main arteries. He grabbed the razor Todd had been clutching the whole time and handed it to Anthony. Then he motioned for the sailor to come closer. He rubbed his hand in some of the blood on the barber’s back and licked the remaining blood off the razor. He sat down on the barber’s chair and took himself out of his trousers, which he had unfastened earlier and proceeded to grease himself with the barber’s sanguine contribution. Anthony came over, his hair obscuring his visage and hiding his demeanor, he forced Todd down on top of Turpin’s engorged member. The blood eased the entry only slightly, and before Sweeney Todd could fully accommodate the judge, Anthony forced his own engorged member down the barber’s throat making his eyes water. Todd tried to brace himself against the arms of the chair, but it was severely difficult with both Anthony and Turpin thrusting into him, out of synch at first, which was quite painful. A few lone tears made their way into the cuts on Todd’s chest, making him cringe more. Feeling a hint of remorse, looking at the man whose face he was thoroughly abusing, he pulled out of Todd’s mouth and allowed him to breathe. Touching himself, he got on his knees in front of the barber and gave him some much needed attention as Turpin continued rocking into him. Overcome by the sensation of Anthony’s moist lips on his raging cock, he started reciprocating, grinding into Turpin. Anthony continued stroking himself while still devouring Todd’s veiny member. He stopped and stood back up, and started pumping himself faster, spurting onto the barber’s face and on his chest. He leaned in and kissed the barber, licking some of his juices off of his face and swallowing them. Turpin pushed hard into the barber, Todd let out a groan, and then all went black.
There was a searing pain emanating from the side of his head. It took the barber a moment to realize what had happened. He opened his eyes, and he was greeted by the cold floor of his shop. He dragged himself onto his elbows, and looked at himself. He must’ve fallen asleep. He snuck a hand down his trousers, and discovered them to be coated in his fluids. With a hint of disdain, and yet a hint of a smile, he removed his hand and looked at it, watching the sticky smooth substance run down his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked some of it off. He raised his eye brows and admitted secretly, it wasn’t too bad. He stood up and cursed his stupidity and threw his clothes into a pile on the ground and collapsed on his bed. He decided it would be best to sleep before reality took hold of him again, and the euphoria of his dream wore off.
by: industrialdoom
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and all that jazz.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Todd/Turpin/Anthony
Warnings: Blood, razors, I guess semi-non-consensual themes, and graphic m/m sex.
Wordcount: 2,150
It had been weeks since his last customer had entered his shop. Turpin was also gone. The possibility of Todd enacting his vengeance had slipped through his fingers. He had been there on the edge of the precipice and, due to both his own stupidity and naivety he had lost his chance and never took the plunge. As a result depression had begun to set in. It began slowly, taking up the dark compartments in his psyche, where his rage had once smoldered within him like a house fire. Todd no longer paced in front of his window, idly daydreaming of his revenge no longer held any pleasure for him. Once, he had thought idly of how he would lure the demonic judge back to his tonsorial parlor, and kill him. Now he paced in front of the window waiting for his time to finally run out, leaving his dreams in the dust.
He paced along the window, staring out into the void, as he had done for hours before. He knew no one would be coming in today, it was already too late in the day, and most people were at home with their families. He trudged over towards his musty gray cot, sitting down on it. He hung his head in his hands, pitying himself. Here he was, stuck with that infernal busy-body Mrs. Lovett. How he loathed her. He knew she wanted him, and somehow she couldn’t get it through her thick skull that she repulsed him. He never returned her friendly touch, if anything; he was cruel to her with his indifference.
He finally gave up and lay back on the cot and tried to sleep. He didn’t even bother touching himself. It’d been weeks since his encounter with Anthony, and the poor sod hadn’t remembered in the morning. Sweeney was now beyond caring, he was content to watch his mortal shell wither away into the dull background. He envisioned it even. He could see how his pale skin would eventually just melt into the dirty cot, becoming one with the unseen noise in the room. He brought his hands up in front of his face, looking at the scars that had come to mottle his skin. The thin red lines -some fading away now into only pinkish raised ridges- made his pale, gracile fingers look like they had been invaded by some foreign root system. Folding his hands, he allowed himself to try to sleep.
He had barely shut his eyes before he heard the bell on the door ring, and he had to drag himself out of bed in order to greet his next victim. Opening his eyes and swinging his bare feet
“I remember what happened that night Mr. Todd.” Shit, the barber thought to himself. The game was up. The only acknowledgment Sweeney felt appropriate to give at this point was a muffled noncommittal grunt. He stood up and walked over to the other corner of the room next to his barber’s chair.
“Mr. Todd I know what you are.” Anthony said, with a hint of a threat hiding behind his wavering voice. Moving further into the room, cautiously, he paused for a moment and the continued,”And I am one too.” Sweeney Todd stood frozen. For the first time in a long time he felt truly threatened by this… this boy. Rational thought told him, why on earth would Anthony of all people, who was obviously threatened by him, make this accusation. And on top of that, admit to his guilt in the scenario. Was there any logic to this? The answer was no. Before the barber could speak Anthony cut in, “and Judge Turpin is on his way. I know what you did to him. And I know how much you liked it. I saw you both, writhing like animals on the floor before I walked in through the door. I saw how you greedily devoured his flesh. I also know how much you want to cut him. Every time I see you eyeing those razors, Mr. Todd. I can see it in your eyes. Like the eyes of an animal. I can see how you hunger for it. I can see how badly you want to take the razor and thrust it into his flesh, and watch him draw his terminal breath and laugh as he dies. I want to watch you do it.”
In a surreal stupor Todd turned towards Anthony, about to speak. Before he could say anything, Todd heard footsteps on the stairs. “I told him, stealing his daughter wasn’t your idea and that your collaboration was forced because of what I knew about you.” Turpin then strode in through the door. Silent, he came in and then stood beside Anthony, discarding his coat onto the floor. Todd stood still, still in a state of shock.
“Mr. Hope called me here today in order to ensure that there are no more…. Misunderstandings…..” The judge continued while slowly moving closer to him.
“Yes sir, no more misunderstandings” Anthony said, walking over towards the barber’s char. The barber unconsciously slid his hand down his thigh, caressing his razors protectively. Turpin put his hands on Sweeney’s thin shoulders and lead him around in front of Anthony, who now resided in the chair. He seemed contented watching this delicate scenario play out. Turpin’s hand slid from the barber’s shoulders to around his middle, fumbling with the buttons of his vest.
“We don’t want anymore misunderstandings, do we Mr. Todd? We don’t want anything to happen to you, now do we? We don’t want anyone thinking anything about you…. Your death would be…. Most unfortunate.” Turpin said, pressing up against Sweeney, grinding himself into his back. Todd could feel the heat of the man behind him, the pressure of the man’s hands on his torso was making him increasingly nervous. He shut his eyes for a moment, and then looked down at Anthony. The young sailor just sat there, watching his every move, as if Todd was another primitive native of a strange land. While he was momentarily distracted Anthony took both of his razors out of Todd’s holster for them. Taking them and with them closed, drawing them down his thigh. He stopped touching Todd and handed them to the judge, who twirled them between his fingers.
Todd went to grab for them but Turpin stepped back and opened one. “We don’t want any more… misunderstandings…. Mr. Todd.” He said, brandishing one in the air. Anthony stepped behind Todd and grabbed the barber’s arms pinning them behind him, rendering him immobile. Turpin moved in closer, taking the razor and dragging the edge along Todd’s jaw line, leaving a trail of crimson. Todd stiffened, not daring to move, because he knew it may well end his life. What was Anthony doing if he wanted to help him? Turpin dragged the razor down Sweeney’s neck, cutting through his neckerchief. Then he continued to drag it along down his front, slicing through his shirt. Todd didn’t even flinch; the razor was so sharp, he barely felt it when it parted his flesh. Turpin closed the razor and tore Sweeney’s shirt off him. Little rivulets of blood streaked down his torso, starkly contrasting his pale skin. Anthony kicked Todd’s feet out from under him, causing him to fall in a heap on the floor. Turpin placed his foot on the barber’s back prevent him from getting up. Anthony quickly undid his pants and took off his shirt while Turpin did the same. Now both half naked, they rolled Todd over, onto his back. Todd’s face was plastered with a scowl; though it was beyond apparent he was enjoying it.
Anthony straddled the barber, and Turpin handed him one of Todd’s razors. As soon as it was in the young sailor’s hand, Sweeney Todd’s eyes went wide and he let out a small gasp. Delicately, he took Todd’s razor, carved a path, starting at his clavicle, then slowly down his chest, ending at his navel. Anthony took up the razor again and sliced through the button holding Todd’s trousers together.
Anthony stood up, giving the bloodied barber a chance to get off the floor. Hefting his pale, bleeding body off the floor, Todd turned with a scowl to Turpin and Anthony. Momentarily shocked by the look of pure rage on Sweeney’s face, Anthony didn’t make any attempt as Todd snatched the razor out of his hand and threw him onto the barber’s chair. Todd gave Turpin a look that kept him from trying to intervene. The judge was content to watch anyway. Todd opened the razor, staring at it as it glinted in the limited light in the room, and then held it to Anthony’s throat. He just slightly pressed it into the boy’s flesh, and a droplet of blood formed and oozed out of the small incision. Todd stepped back and dragged him out of the chair, and Turpin finally decided to intervene on the young sailor’s behalf. He quickly stepped behind the barber and held his blade a few centimeters in front of his neck. Todd bristled with rage, Turpin could feel his whole body tense as he held him, and he ran his free hand all over his bloody chest. Todd almost seemed pleased that this was occurring, as if being controlled offered him some kind of relief. When Turpin slid his experienced hand down his front, Todd gasped. Anthony walked over and tore off his trousers and pants. Turpin let go of him and stepped back slightly, admiring his sallow skin. He decided it needed some color. He dragged the razor down his spinal column, the red liquid trickling down his flesh covered vertebrae. He took the razor and held it up to the light, allowing Todd a glimpse of his blood coating it. Seeing it drenching his razor, he inhaled sharply and stiffened.
He brought the razor back in front of the barber’s throat, tantalizingly close to his main arteries. He grabbed the razor Todd had been clutching the whole time and handed it to Anthony. Then he motioned for the sailor to come closer. He rubbed his hand in some of the blood on the barber’s back and licked the remaining blood off the razor. He sat down on the barber’s chair and took himself out of his trousers, which he had unfastened earlier and proceeded to grease himself with the barber’s sanguine contribution. Anthony came over, his hair obscuring his visage and hiding his demeanor, he forced Todd down on top of Turpin’s engorged member. The blood eased the entry only slightly, and before Sweeney Todd could fully accommodate the judge, Anthony forced his own engorged member down the barber’s throat making his eyes water. Todd tried to brace himself against the arms of the chair, but it was severely difficult with both Anthony and Turpin thrusting into him, out of synch at first, which was quite painful. A few lone tears made their way into the cuts on Todd’s chest, making him cringe more. Feeling a hint of remorse, looking at the man whose face he was thoroughly abusing, he pulled out of Todd’s mouth and allowed him to breathe. Touching himself, he got on his knees in front of the barber and gave him some much needed attention as Turpin continued rocking into him. Overcome by the sensation of Anthony’s moist lips on his raging cock, he started reciprocating, grinding into Turpin. Anthony continued stroking himself while still devouring Todd’s veiny member. He stopped and stood back up, and started pumping himself faster, spurting onto the barber’s face and on his chest. He leaned in and kissed the barber, licking some of his juices off of his face and swallowing them. Turpin pushed hard into the barber, Todd let out a groan, and then all went black.
There was a searing pain emanating from the side of his head. It took the barber a moment to realize what had happened. He opened his eyes, and he was greeted by the cold floor of his shop. He dragged himself onto his elbows, and looked at himself. He must’ve fallen asleep. He snuck a hand down his trousers, and discovered them to be coated in his fluids. With a hint of disdain, and yet a hint of a smile, he removed his hand and looked at it, watching the sticky smooth substance run down his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked some of it off. He raised his eye brows and admitted secretly, it wasn’t too bad. He stood up and cursed his stupidity and threw his clothes into a pile on the ground and collapsed on his bed. He decided it would be best to sleep before reality took hold of him again, and the euphoria of his dream wore off.