Pan (pa2ndora) wrote in demona_elisa,
Pan
pa2ndora
demona_elisa

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Very quickly written, not really thought out one-shot. Wanted to kick things off!

Title: Beast
Rating: PG
Pairing: Demona/Elisa
Warnings: Implied dub-con, implied hate sex, dom/sub
Word Count: 366


 Wings meant everything to a gargoyle. Without the use of them, their world was rendered nearly unlivable; the experience was devastating and left them as little more than a mindless animal in the eyes of the clans of old. As firm and taut as the rest of her body was, Elisa never imagined Demona's wings would be so incredibly soft. Where skin and muscle were solid and adamantine, those smooth, cloak-ish appendages were felt beneath her fingertips. The insides were velvety and silken; she would often get lost in exploring the sensitive undersides, almost forgetting who it was she was with. Almost forgetting the hatred and the vulnerability of being forced against her will on a nightly basis.

Demona would pause her domineering ministrations, caught somewhere between amusement and caution as the ugly, loathsome human explored such a vulnerable area. The dangerous possibilities left her head reeling, the strangeness of the act alluring and uncomfortable all at once. All it would take is a tear. A blade. A firearm. And if even for just one night, she'd be wingless. Casteless. Useless.

And yet the blithe exploration of the soft skin was so harmless, so gentle and curious, it left Demona confused. It left her vulnerable, not just in body or mind. It left her angry. And then she would remember why she came. She would remember the hatred, the pain of a millennium spent in persistent loneliness and constant betrayal and self-loathing. She would remember the humans. She would remember Goliath. The rage would return full-throttle in the form of an inner demon, an all-consuming monster engulfing every inch of what was left of her soul. She would shake with anger, with heartache, and then things were no longer soft, no longer gentle.

She'd pin Elisa's wrists together and roar in her face, would hate the human with all her being, and just as she did every night, would take her. She enjoyed every second of protests and futile squirming; a human could not claw, could not fight back, could not fly away. A human had no claws, no strength, no wings, and that made them oblivious beasts in the eyes of her eternal, compassionless hatred.
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