Hostage, part 19
Oct. 2nd, 2007 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thatotherpervok I know I'm posting to this fic faster than most people wanted, but the series of cliffhangers kind of made me feel like I needed to deliver for the folks who *did* want it every day, during this arc. enough people seem to be keeping up with me that I think that was a good decision for now.
I should warn you that this chapter is very disturbing, for a variety of reasons I can't elucidate without giving spoilers. it's one of my favorite chapters in the series...I think...maybe because Angelus' reaction in this chapter really rings true to me. plus, his little speech is one of the most happily gruesome things I've ever written, and I'm really proud of it.
I imagine most of you weren't expecting sunshine and kittens after Dawn's escape attempt, but I thought I should give you an extra heads-up. demons being demons, that's what I promised.
banner by the fantastic and talented![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vamptastica
Title: Hostage
Author: Mel (thatotherperv)
Pairing: Angelus/Dawn/evil!Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Angelus and Spike come to Sunnydale to kill the slayer, they find more interesting prey.
Warnings: um, lots. not all of which I'm willing to specify. for starters, these guys are evil and soulless, and will behave as such the whole way through. even after they're soft on Dawn, they do some pretty unconscionable things to her. elements of non-con. Daddykink. and Dawn is 17, so where I live that's legal but *shrugs*. very politically incorrect in places, but if it comforts you, it's more of a demon/human thing than a male/female thing ;)
Disclaimer: not mine, but ain't they pretty?
A/N: how is this fic AU? Angelus never got a soul, so the boys were never separated. Darla and Dru wandered off at some point, possibly in 1894 when the Immortal was such a hot stud ;) Dawn is only 3 years younger than Buffy, so she's 17 in this fic.
previous parts are here
Previously:
“Dawn did a runner with the girl in the basement—”
With a curse, Angelus was out the door.
Five minutes later he was back, carrying two limp bodies.
Part 19
Angelus watched Dawn stir awake. She came to as she always did, at first—with sweet sounds that made his dick twitch, and a little smile on her face. But then things started coming back to her, and her heart sped—and for a moment, she smelled like terror as she realized she was tied down to the bed, arms spread wide.
Good. There was really no underestimating his wrath at their current situation.
He’d given her a little leeway, a little bit of trust, because she’d been such a good pet. And the moment he did, she was freeing the food and from the looks of it, doing a runner herself. He wasn’t amused.
“Angelus,” she began in her best daddy’s-little-girl voice.
Lying bitch.
“Welcome back, Dawnie. I was just trying to decide exactly what I wanted to do with you. Or I should say, to you, since you don’t have any say and you’re not going anywhere for a very long time.”
Dawn got a little paler. “I can explain.” He sat back, unimpressed. “Angelus, I know that girl. She was my best friend—I couldn’t just…. Please let her go. Please.” Her eyes glistened. “I’ll be good for you.”
Angelus refrained from pointing out that she’d be that anyway, because this wasn’t a negotiation. He’d spoiled her, and now she had to be reminded who was in charge here.
“Have you ever skinned anything, Dawn?”
Her mouth snapped shut. Eyes stretched wide. Her face was so bloodless, it was gray. He took that as a no.
She flinched when he touched her. Ran a light finger in a half-circle around the base of her neck, and down her bare midline, between her breasts. When he reached soft curls of hair, he redirected, veering down her leg to encircle a slender ankle.
"I've skinned a lot of men—when you live 250 years, you do most things a few times. This I do because I enjoy it though." Blue eyes looked back at him, wounded and mistrustful. "The most unexpected thing about it, the first time you skin someone, is how easy it is. It's kind of like taking off a really tight shirt. If you do it right, you can get the whole thing off in one big piece." He traced down her other leg. "But first you have to make the seams. Best if you use a razor or a scalpel, if you want to preserve the muscle beneath. Can't cut too deep. If you leave the muscle intact, you can peel the skin right off with your bare hands. Especially if the person is young and lean." Angelus' fingers glossed across her soft, flat belly. "The trickiest thing is the limbs."
Angelus held her eyes as he moved up to trace one arm of a T across her chest from his imaginary midline incision. She was trembling now. "I find it works best if you make a little sleeve, slit down the inside." Dawn gave a full-body shudder as his finger softly sliced the velvety inner skin of her arm, drawing a ring around her wrist. Her heart was beating fast like a little bird's. He picked up her hand and caressed it aimlessly. His voice was so soft, and mild. "You can do the hands and feet, too, but those take a little more work—like turning a glove inside out, but the skin doesn’t really want to come off. So you save those for last, because just when you think they're insensible to the pain, that'll make em squeal. Gotta leave the face alone--it's more fun that way. People make the damndest expressions when they’re being tortured."
He was silent for the space of half a dozen rapid, shallow breaths. The stench of fear was strong. He reached up and brushed gentle knuckles against her cheek, ignoring the way that she flinched. "It's messy, though. Blood everywhere, and what a waste. That's why I save it for when someone has really pissed me off."
He watched her fight off a wave of nausea.
“It’s a good thing for you that your skin pleases me right where it is. I don’t fuck raw piles of meat. Spread for me, Dawnie.”
When her obedience wasn’t forthcoming, Angelus rolled her legs up against her chest himself. His face was impassive as he played with her clit. Watching her eyes fill up with tears even as her body supplied him with lubrication. He felt another wave of anger at her for things changing this way. Stupid bitch. She’d had it so good. Didn’t he buy her things? Let her go outside? Make her come? Let her talk back to him and defy some of his orders? She had no concept of the kind of freedom he’d given her.
She’d get the picture pretty quickly, though, because now he’d treat her just as he should have in the first place.
He fucked her harshly, pants not even all the way off his ass—gave her just enough stimulation to keep her wet, because a dry fuck was no good and if he made her bleed it would interrupt his service. His mouth sure as hell wasn’t going near this cunt any time soon. She cried the whole time, but at least she was silent about it. He bled her from the neck as he came, feeling the rush of power that always came from drinking her.
This is how it should have been. Fucking and food.
When he was done with her, he let her free to use the bathroom. She didn’t really struggle when he locked one hand back to the bed.
She was in shock.
He decided to do her the one small mercy of leaving the other arm free, so she could sleep as she liked. Even now, he was softer on her than he should have been.
“Hey—” Angelus bore down on the free arm to get her attention, hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. Her eyes, dull with crying, drifted to his. He clenched his jaw against the unnatural emotion that welled up. “If you use this to fight me when I come back tomorrow, I’ll break it.”
Dawn looked away. He was about to leave her when she spoke.
“Please don’t kill Janice.”
Angelus rounded on her, incredulous. “You’re making demands now.”
She was the picture of misery, but at least she was smart enough to avoid his eyes. “I just…please. Please, let her go.”
He scoffed. “We both know that’s not happening.”
“Okay. Then just…don’t hurt her. It’s the only thing I’m asking.”
Angelus stared at her for a long time. The nerve of this little thing. He felt….
“Fine,” he said finally. “I suppose all whores get payment. She’ll be yours.”
The wave of hurt was a tangible thing. Good. She deserved it, for trying to leave him. “And you’ll feed her?”
Christ, she had balls. “I’ll split your portions in half. Damned if I’m buying more human food for the livestock. You whine about being hungry, I’ll snap her neck.”
Boiling over with rage, he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him, before she asked to be named the Duchess of York and forced him to wring her little neck.
~*~*~*~*~
eep-squared!
I should warn you that this chapter is very disturbing, for a variety of reasons I can't elucidate without giving spoilers. it's one of my favorite chapters in the series...I think...maybe because Angelus' reaction in this chapter really rings true to me. plus, his little speech is one of the most happily gruesome things I've ever written, and I'm really proud of it.
I imagine most of you weren't expecting sunshine and kittens after Dawn's escape attempt, but I thought I should give you an extra heads-up. demons being demons, that's what I promised.
banner by the fantastic and talented
vamptasticaTitle: Hostage
Author: Mel (
thatotherperv)Pairing: Angelus/Dawn/evil!Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Angelus and Spike come to Sunnydale to kill the slayer, they find more interesting prey.
Warnings: um, lots. not all of which I'm willing to specify. for starters, these guys are evil and soulless, and will behave as such the whole way through. even after they're soft on Dawn, they do some pretty unconscionable things to her. elements of non-con. Daddykink. and Dawn is 17, so where I live that's legal but *shrugs*. very politically incorrect in places, but if it comforts you, it's more of a demon/human thing than a male/female thing ;)
Disclaimer: not mine, but ain't they pretty?
A/N: how is this fic AU? Angelus never got a soul, so the boys were never separated. Darla and Dru wandered off at some point, possibly in 1894 when the Immortal was such a hot stud ;) Dawn is only 3 years younger than Buffy, so she's 17 in this fic.
previous parts are here
Previously:
“Dawn did a runner with the girl in the basement—”
With a curse, Angelus was out the door.
Five minutes later he was back, carrying two limp bodies.
Part 19
Angelus watched Dawn stir awake. She came to as she always did, at first—with sweet sounds that made his dick twitch, and a little smile on her face. But then things started coming back to her, and her heart sped—and for a moment, she smelled like terror as she realized she was tied down to the bed, arms spread wide.
Good. There was really no underestimating his wrath at their current situation.
He’d given her a little leeway, a little bit of trust, because she’d been such a good pet. And the moment he did, she was freeing the food and from the looks of it, doing a runner herself. He wasn’t amused.
“Angelus,” she began in her best daddy’s-little-girl voice.
Lying bitch.
“Welcome back, Dawnie. I was just trying to decide exactly what I wanted to do with you. Or I should say, to you, since you don’t have any say and you’re not going anywhere for a very long time.”
Dawn got a little paler. “I can explain.” He sat back, unimpressed. “Angelus, I know that girl. She was my best friend—I couldn’t just…. Please let her go. Please.” Her eyes glistened. “I’ll be good for you.”
Angelus refrained from pointing out that she’d be that anyway, because this wasn’t a negotiation. He’d spoiled her, and now she had to be reminded who was in charge here.
“Have you ever skinned anything, Dawn?”
Her mouth snapped shut. Eyes stretched wide. Her face was so bloodless, it was gray. He took that as a no.
She flinched when he touched her. Ran a light finger in a half-circle around the base of her neck, and down her bare midline, between her breasts. When he reached soft curls of hair, he redirected, veering down her leg to encircle a slender ankle.
"I've skinned a lot of men—when you live 250 years, you do most things a few times. This I do because I enjoy it though." Blue eyes looked back at him, wounded and mistrustful. "The most unexpected thing about it, the first time you skin someone, is how easy it is. It's kind of like taking off a really tight shirt. If you do it right, you can get the whole thing off in one big piece." He traced down her other leg. "But first you have to make the seams. Best if you use a razor or a scalpel, if you want to preserve the muscle beneath. Can't cut too deep. If you leave the muscle intact, you can peel the skin right off with your bare hands. Especially if the person is young and lean." Angelus' fingers glossed across her soft, flat belly. "The trickiest thing is the limbs."
Angelus held her eyes as he moved up to trace one arm of a T across her chest from his imaginary midline incision. She was trembling now. "I find it works best if you make a little sleeve, slit down the inside." Dawn gave a full-body shudder as his finger softly sliced the velvety inner skin of her arm, drawing a ring around her wrist. Her heart was beating fast like a little bird's. He picked up her hand and caressed it aimlessly. His voice was so soft, and mild. "You can do the hands and feet, too, but those take a little more work—like turning a glove inside out, but the skin doesn’t really want to come off. So you save those for last, because just when you think they're insensible to the pain, that'll make em squeal. Gotta leave the face alone--it's more fun that way. People make the damndest expressions when they’re being tortured."
He was silent for the space of half a dozen rapid, shallow breaths. The stench of fear was strong. He reached up and brushed gentle knuckles against her cheek, ignoring the way that she flinched. "It's messy, though. Blood everywhere, and what a waste. That's why I save it for when someone has really pissed me off."
He watched her fight off a wave of nausea.
“It’s a good thing for you that your skin pleases me right where it is. I don’t fuck raw piles of meat. Spread for me, Dawnie.”
When her obedience wasn’t forthcoming, Angelus rolled her legs up against her chest himself. His face was impassive as he played with her clit. Watching her eyes fill up with tears even as her body supplied him with lubrication. He felt another wave of anger at her for things changing this way. Stupid bitch. She’d had it so good. Didn’t he buy her things? Let her go outside? Make her come? Let her talk back to him and defy some of his orders? She had no concept of the kind of freedom he’d given her.
She’d get the picture pretty quickly, though, because now he’d treat her just as he should have in the first place.
He fucked her harshly, pants not even all the way off his ass—gave her just enough stimulation to keep her wet, because a dry fuck was no good and if he made her bleed it would interrupt his service. His mouth sure as hell wasn’t going near this cunt any time soon. She cried the whole time, but at least she was silent about it. He bled her from the neck as he came, feeling the rush of power that always came from drinking her.
This is how it should have been. Fucking and food.
When he was done with her, he let her free to use the bathroom. She didn’t really struggle when he locked one hand back to the bed.
She was in shock.
He decided to do her the one small mercy of leaving the other arm free, so she could sleep as she liked. Even now, he was softer on her than he should have been.
“Hey—” Angelus bore down on the free arm to get her attention, hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. Her eyes, dull with crying, drifted to his. He clenched his jaw against the unnatural emotion that welled up. “If you use this to fight me when I come back tomorrow, I’ll break it.”
Dawn looked away. He was about to leave her when she spoke.
“Please don’t kill Janice.”
Angelus rounded on her, incredulous. “You’re making demands now.”
She was the picture of misery, but at least she was smart enough to avoid his eyes. “I just…please. Please, let her go.”
He scoffed. “We both know that’s not happening.”
“Okay. Then just…don’t hurt her. It’s the only thing I’m asking.”
Angelus stared at her for a long time. The nerve of this little thing. He felt….
“Fine,” he said finally. “I suppose all whores get payment. She’ll be yours.”
The wave of hurt was a tangible thing. Good. She deserved it, for trying to leave him. “And you’ll feed her?”
Christ, she had balls. “I’ll split your portions in half. Damned if I’m buying more human food for the livestock. You whine about being hungry, I’ll snap her neck.”
Boiling over with rage, he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him, before she asked to be named the Duchess of York and forced him to wring her little neck.
~*~*~*~*~
eep-squared!
