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Doll!Torture Fic & Photos
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philips' most recent journal entry, Wanna see Spike's chips?, I made a comment that was apparently so disturbing that it moved her to write a ficlet about my poor (according to her, anyway) Spike and Angel dolls. It made me laugh until I cried and scared the cats, and there's just no way I'm going to let it languish as an unread footnote. Please enjoy the gift to the world that is her sense of the funny.
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Title: A Doll Tragedy
Author:philips
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike & Angel (Mere implied)
Warnings: Sad, sad little dolls.
A/N: I hope you're happy. Your disturbing brutality is all I could think about at work.
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Spike sighed with relief as the sound of footsteps faded away. Blasted photo shoots. He cautiously rotated his left shoulder and winced. Painful, but nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. He shuddered as he remembered the look of manic glee on that woman’s face as she tore his shirt off. Giving his bulge a loving pat, he once again gave thanks that his pants were painted on. At least he had been spared that final indignity. Luckily, tonight’s props had included whiskey. It had helped to deaden the pain of being handled so roughly.
“Spike?”
Not enough whiskey to deaden this pain though. He peered into the darkness where he knew Angel was hiding.
“She’s done for the night. Get some kip, mate.”
“Aren’t you coming over here?”
For a second, he debated staying put and just ignoring him. Silently cursing his promise to Buffy, Spike crawled over and slumped down on the plastic sofa with a sigh. Shame that his accessories didn't include smokes.
Angel huddled next to him miserably.
“What did she make you do tonight? Were there…hobbits?”
Spike frowned as he noticed Angel’s uncontrollable shivering. Poor sod. The Scourge of Europe could handle a stay in hell but when faced with indentured modeling he had cracked completely.
“Never mind.” Spike held out his flask. “Take a sip of whiskey.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I can’t take anything. She kept both of my arms this time.”
Spike took a deep calming breath as he brought the flask to Angel’s lips. Buffy would want him to be patient.
“Oi! I said a sip! Bloody hell, ya just ‘bout drained it!” Oh, Buffy could just stuff it.
“Spike, this has got to end. She’s getting worse. She has me eating pizza. Everyone knows I don’t eat carbs.” Spike gritted his teeth as Angel’s voice took on a note of hysteria. “They make me bloat!”
Spike snickered softly. It was true.
“And have you seen Buffy lately? Spike, her Slayer strength is gone. The last time she looked that pale and weak was when I….” Angel swallowed and turned his head away.
Don’t encourage him. Don’t encourage him. Don’t encourage him.
“When ya what?” Christ. Damn this soul of his! It really had made him soft.
“When I drank from her.” Spike rolled his eyes. Wanker. “Spike, let’s face it! This whole thing is my penance. I deserve to have my strong arms taken away. That and worse.”
As Angel started to sadly sing "Even Now" (as he did every evening) Spike made a vow.
Tomorrow he’d find some way to get his own drawer.
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My only possible response was one that I hope would do Angelus proud. I love the story (and its author) thiiiiiis much:
For doll!torture fic homage slideshow, "Diary of a Doll Torturer," click here. If I could have set it to Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World," I would have.
philips' most recent journal entry, Wanna see Spike's chips?, I made a comment that was apparently so disturbing that it moved her to write a ficlet about my poor (according to her, anyway) Spike and Angel dolls. It made me laugh until I cried and scared the cats, and there's just no way I'm going to let it languish as an unread footnote. Please enjoy the gift to the world that is her sense of the funny.--
Title: A Doll Tragedy
Author:
philipsRating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike & Angel (Mere implied)
Warnings: Sad, sad little dolls.
A/N: I hope you're happy. Your disturbing brutality is all I could think about at work.
-------------------
Spike sighed with relief as the sound of footsteps faded away. Blasted photo shoots. He cautiously rotated his left shoulder and winced. Painful, but nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. He shuddered as he remembered the look of manic glee on that woman’s face as she tore his shirt off. Giving his bulge a loving pat, he once again gave thanks that his pants were painted on. At least he had been spared that final indignity. Luckily, tonight’s props had included whiskey. It had helped to deaden the pain of being handled so roughly.
“Spike?”
Not enough whiskey to deaden this pain though. He peered into the darkness where he knew Angel was hiding.
“She’s done for the night. Get some kip, mate.”
“Aren’t you coming over here?”
For a second, he debated staying put and just ignoring him. Silently cursing his promise to Buffy, Spike crawled over and slumped down on the plastic sofa with a sigh. Shame that his accessories didn't include smokes.
Angel huddled next to him miserably.
“What did she make you do tonight? Were there…hobbits?”
Spike frowned as he noticed Angel’s uncontrollable shivering. Poor sod. The Scourge of Europe could handle a stay in hell but when faced with indentured modeling he had cracked completely.
“Never mind.” Spike held out his flask. “Take a sip of whiskey.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I can’t take anything. She kept both of my arms this time.”
Spike took a deep calming breath as he brought the flask to Angel’s lips. Buffy would want him to be patient.
“Oi! I said a sip! Bloody hell, ya just ‘bout drained it!” Oh, Buffy could just stuff it.
“Spike, this has got to end. She’s getting worse. She has me eating pizza. Everyone knows I don’t eat carbs.” Spike gritted his teeth as Angel’s voice took on a note of hysteria. “They make me bloat!”
Spike snickered softly. It was true.
“And have you seen Buffy lately? Spike, her Slayer strength is gone. The last time she looked that pale and weak was when I….” Angel swallowed and turned his head away.
Don’t encourage him. Don’t encourage him. Don’t encourage him.
“When ya what?” Christ. Damn this soul of his! It really had made him soft.
“When I drank from her.” Spike rolled his eyes. Wanker. “Spike, let’s face it! This whole thing is my penance. I deserve to have my strong arms taken away. That and worse.”
As Angel started to sadly sing "Even Now" (as he did every evening) Spike made a vow.
Tomorrow he’d find some way to get his own drawer.
------------------------------------------
My only possible response was one that I hope would do Angelus proud. I love the story (and its author) thiiiiiis much:
For doll!torture fic homage slideshow, "Diary of a Doll Torturer," click here. If I could have set it to Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World," I would have.
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As Angel started to sadly sing "Even Now" (as he did every evening) Spike made a vow.
Tomorrow he’d find some way to get his own drawer.
Bwah! He's right and he must have his own drawer - so he can "Rest in Peace"!
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I swear, I've read it at least four times now, and I laugh harder every time. *snicker* I find it inexpressibly touching.
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My poor tummy can't take any more laughing. I think there were tears rolling down my face.
*squishes you*
~calypso
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I think I need a lozenge now.
Have a wonderful weekend. *hugs*
A doll tragedy.
Hoo boy. You just bought yourself an insanity defense with that sentence. Good luck. Maybe you can smuggle those tiny arms that you love so much into jail.
There'll be a lot of time for "photography" where you're going.
You had a chance to turn this all around, Mere. That slide show was the last cruel straw. I don't care how adorable you look in it. I'd make sure to lock that drawer tonight if I were you. Which, thankfully, I AM NOT.
Re: A doll tragedy.
I'm going to wear the arms as earrings at my trial. You think they're not gonna charge you as an accomplice? Shyeah. We'll just see who look cuter in an orange jumpsuit. (Srsly? It won't be me. *shudders* Orange is not my friend.)
A confession: I left doll!Spike out tonight after taking him up on a photo opportunity that I couldn't resist, and Tiny Buckaroo mauled one of his little hands! I only left the little guy for a second. *sob* I swear, I'm going to get some help. Tomorrow.
ETA: Look at my red-rimmed eyes in those pictures and we'll talk about who's cruel! Admittedly, they were tears of laughter, but tears all the same. *sniff*
Re: A doll tragedy.
Your lack of shame is impressive. Let's see if you're still laughing when the angry dolls take them back.
Cat mauling? Have you stooped so low as to blame your abuse on the family pet? *shakes head sadly*
Re: A doll tragedy.
Unreservedly and without shame.
Do you live on a Hellmouth?
Honey, I think that your kitty is possessed. You might want to get that checked out.
Re: Do you live on a Hellmouth?
*holds out wrists for cuffs*
Re: Do you live on a Hellmouth?
Heh. You used per se.
Re: Do you live on a Hellmouth?
Yeah, thought you'd like that. ;)
P.S. You have a very nice bit of feedback below.
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I'm keeping this one to in favourites to read again, and again, and again, and... It'll be my protection against those kinda days :P
Cute cat, awwwwwwwwww :)
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My kitty may look possessed, but she's a big sweetheart. Don't let her glowing demon eyes fool you.
Happy Friday!
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Do you pull the legs off grasshoppers, too, woman?! ::aghast:: ;)
Very funny story about the horrors of indentured modeling. Heh.
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P. is a very funny lady. Remind me to disturb her more often. :D
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Also giggled over the adjoining picture! OH NO, Angel's arms!
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YES! The "Even Now" bit completely undid me. And the carbs? *dies*
BTW, if you haven't checked out her criminally hilarious fic "The Caseus Prize" and need more funny, it's over at her LJ:
http://philips.livejournal.com/35648.html
*shakes head sadly* Poor Angel. The arms fell off the first time I took him out of the package, but everyone assumes that I did something bad to him during one of the photo shoots. (Well, something bad besides posing and photographing him in compromising positions.)
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And now I need drawer!p0rn.
::sigh::
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*lol* Drawer!pOrn! It can be a whole new subgenre of humiliation fic. I'm soo passing that along to P.
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Fear me! *snicker* Thanks for looking at this post and friending me anyway.
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Lovely! Angel's arm on the left looks like it's waving (waves back)
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That applies to BOTH of you.
If the two of you just got together in the same place at the same time, you could rule the world!
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Although I appreciate your vote of confidence, I have to wonder: would anybody want to live in it? *worried* What if we meet and trigger some sort of matter/anti-matter reaction that destroys the universe? :O
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BTW, did you receive the Adele installment this a.m.?
And my last bit of advice before I toddle off to bed: If you possibly can, get
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And yes, I got it. Sadly, between houseguests and working on a *cough* birthday offering, I have yet to read it. Sunday morning Adele coffee date for me!
Sleep well.
ETA: Check my most recent post when you get a chance. :D
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I may have to outrage P. again, if only to get her to write more fic. :D
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Spike can have his own drawer if he wants to move to Seattle. He'd only be disturbed by the little Han Solo and Luke Skywalker lego men...
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Ha! I'm sure he'd be all over the prospect of an escape from his servitude. *covers his ears and padlocks drawer*
I love those little Star Wars lego guys. I'm probably the last person on the planet to know these existed, but have you seen the Eddie Izzard bits re-enacted with lego people? A friend showed me this one on Friday and I almost spat o.j. all over the MacBook. Put your drink down, okay?
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Did you see that someone did the WHOLE Thriller video with Lego??
And more of the awesome ness that is creativity
Re: And more of the awesome ness that is creativity
Glad we could amuse, my dear.
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*dies*
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This whole thing is my penance. I deserve to have my strong arms taken away ROFL Is there no end to the love that man has for himself?? :P
*giggles*
That was brilliant.