The Night of Fallen Demons
Aradia
What did I do? What have I done? Toril kept asking herself over and over again. It seemed that, even at this disastrous moment, she would be stubborn and refuse to answer her own questions. The only response the Demoness received was her ragged breathing, the slapping of leathery wings against the air, and the howl of the wind as it blew past and through her, trying its hardest to freeze her to the core.She knew the answers, though. Not even her stubborn mind could block it out. She could still feel his fiery feather fur and flesh between her claws and fangs. A phantom of the Angel’s heat still clung to her as much as the drying blood. Oh, and there was no way Toril could forget the way his chest rose and fell, his heart and lungs laboring harder and harder every time she dug in-
“STOP IT!” she shrieked, forcing away those thoughts and the unnatural pleasure that had started rising with them. If there had been any doubt about her demonic status before, there were no doubts now. She had ravaged an Angel- probably killed him- and she was most certainly a monster.
He said I was still an Angel... Ha! He was on Death’s doorstep; had no idea what he was talking about, Toril thought dismally.
She hadn’t meant to go so far. Hurt him, yes. Make him suffer for all the pain he caused her. But Toril was no murderer. She’d lost it when he spoke to her though, told her that he didn’t know what he’d done for that kind of punishment... Just something about it had made her lose it, and she didn’t know why. The end result had been her hurting a relatively good Dustling, one that she’d loved in another life, once upon a time... Fenris was probably dead.
Suddenly Toril felt as if she were made of stone, and her whole body was frigid. She could see the lights of the town in the distance- How long have I been flying?- but she had to stop. Jerkily the Demoness descended to the sand, practically buckling to her side upon landing. Her claws and fur were tacky with dried blood, and she wanted to get rid of it, and every reminder of what she’d done that night. It wouldn’t be that easy an escape, though. Nothing was easy for Toril.
GlacialWolf
Little was Toril aware that she was coming upon a dragon who genuinely was a monster. Or rather, had reverted to one, going possibly even farther into the hate in his mind than ever before. Evil ruled him. Torture was his solace. The light of his angel was not there to bring him back. What was left for poor Octavian? Nothing. He was a brooding, vengeful, hostile beast. Nothing more than a beast. After all, that was what he had always been. Hadn't it?The pink and blue male was pacing, back and forth, looking at absolutely nothing in particular. Deep blue eyes fused with madness. They were sharp, if one looked in them. Piercing. They made all but the stoutest gasp when he met gazes with others. His fur was unkempt, ragged without being patchy. Fluffed out, adding to the crazed appearance and hiding a little of his lithe, muscled body.
Strength and tormenting the others in his house were an obsession. Octavian would compulsively run or fly until he pitched into the dirt, furthering the strangeness of his condition. Most of his housemates had fled. Cicera was too weak to flee against his orders, and she was his newest whipping girl. He had just sent her running, before he took up the pacing. Frazzled fur whipped side to side when he turned, nostrils finally catching the scent of someone he thought he remembered, but that could have very well been a dream.
Sunrise and Sunset paused, briefly, to seek out the source of this new disturbance. That, and find out just who the next victim was. A twisted grin started across Octavian's features, teeth visible in his beak as he found it, the female demon, the source of his current distraction.
Oh, wouldn't that just be perfect. An absolute monster assailing a demon. He reveled in the thought, aspecially when some emotion flashed across her face that he understood so well. It was how he felt all the time. Claws to fur, slash to skin. Blood in the sand and on him. Octavian did love a good bath in crimson.
He started toward her rapidly, body picking up speed with relative ease even in his strange condition. No sound uttered from him as he changed course and came flying at her. Size was to his advantage, Octavian was one of the largest dusts in the facility. Wings spanned outward as he drove toward her, beak open, pupils constricted.
Toril was not done with fighting yet.
Aradia
There was only a moment's warning of the halfbreed's movements, a whiff of the familiar scent on the air. It was all it took to make Toril jerk to her side, rolling out of the way right before he would have struck her. When she was rolled back onto her stomach she jumped to her feet, adrenaline surging through her and forcing her tired body to react, to face the next hell that awaited her this night.
The Demoness wasn't quite ready to face this one. "Octavian?" she rasped, not quite sure of what she was seeing. There was no mistaking Octavian for any other Dustling; she'd never seen another like him. However, the halfbreed was more crazed than she had ever seen him, more wild. She could almost feel the madness in his gaze, the murder in those shining blue eyes.
Something in her answered back. The anger, the blood lust that had filled her when she'd struck Fenris. It told her that Octavian would be a challenge, he would fight back as Fenris had refused to. It would be wonderful to rend him limb from limb, to tear out his wings...
Toril tried to shake it off. She didn't want that, she didn't want to hurt anyone else tonight. Instead, she backed up slowly, not wanting to present her back to him. "Get the hell away from me, Octavian," the Demoness hissed, feeling more demonic than she had in her life. "I've already hurt someone else. I don't want to hurt you too."
The Demoness wasn't quite ready to face this one. "Octavian?" she rasped, not quite sure of what she was seeing. There was no mistaking Octavian for any other Dustling; she'd never seen another like him. However, the halfbreed was more crazed than she had ever seen him, more wild. She could almost feel the madness in his gaze, the murder in those shining blue eyes.
Something in her answered back. The anger, the blood lust that had filled her when she'd struck Fenris. It told her that Octavian would be a challenge, he would fight back as Fenris had refused to. It would be wonderful to rend him limb from limb, to tear out his wings...
Toril tried to shake it off. She didn't want that, she didn't want to hurt anyone else tonight. Instead, she backed up slowly, not wanting to present her back to him. "Get the hell away from me, Octavian," the Demoness hissed, feeling more demonic than she had in her life. "I've already hurt someone else. I don't want to hurt you too."
GlacialWolf
Octavian cursed her a thousand ways in the short moment that she dodged. So, he really did remember. Something about the demoness had been familiar after all, but what was it? Quickly the dragon racked his brain. Where, oh where could she be. The sick grin never really left his features as he considered Toril, long after she had asked the question.
Finally, he remembered. Yes. The one who hated to be touched. Well then, he could fix that, yes indeed. A brush, a n**, scattered orange and black on a sea of light grains. It was about time something from before was recalled. A stroke of luck in the dark.
Octavian's voice was heavy, that was the best way to describe it. Deep, with a little rasp, low and forceful on the ears. Something was most certainly wrong with him. "You cannot hurt me." He stated flatly, through a twisted toothy beak. Several long seconds later, as though a space had occured in his mind, the halfbreed threw back his head and absolutely cackled.
Hurt someone else, oh boo hoo!
Yes, she doesn't know what hurt is.
Shall we show her, Octavian?
The monster is ready, he can handle this.
A rain of blood and feathers, like old times. Lovely.
And when she is drained, we can show her just why she fears being close.
A new light entered the mad dust's eyes. A brightness and a more focused purpose that wasn't there before. There was a reason for all this now, and it made him all the more intent. Octavian lunged forward again, closing the growing gap between them in bounds with his wings stretched out, giving him lift and speed. Obsession had left him unnervingly fast, but certainly nothing that was out of reach for a dragon his size. While he never truely left the ground, he was very light as his maw opened wide again for another strike, a lash for pretty dark shoulders. He was reared back on his hind legs, and foreclaws would follow, a slashing rain one after the other.
Octavian wasn't out to kill her though, no, not like sometimes. He was going to make her suffer, and then he was going to strike at what he believed to be a deep rooted fear in the demoness.
Finally, he remembered. Yes. The one who hated to be touched. Well then, he could fix that, yes indeed. A brush, a n**, scattered orange and black on a sea of light grains. It was about time something from before was recalled. A stroke of luck in the dark.
Octavian's voice was heavy, that was the best way to describe it. Deep, with a little rasp, low and forceful on the ears. Something was most certainly wrong with him. "You cannot hurt me." He stated flatly, through a twisted toothy beak. Several long seconds later, as though a space had occured in his mind, the halfbreed threw back his head and absolutely cackled.
Hurt someone else, oh boo hoo!
Yes, she doesn't know what hurt is.
Shall we show her, Octavian?
The monster is ready, he can handle this.
A rain of blood and feathers, like old times. Lovely.
And when she is drained, we can show her just why she fears being close.
A new light entered the mad dust's eyes. A brightness and a more focused purpose that wasn't there before. There was a reason for all this now, and it made him all the more intent. Octavian lunged forward again, closing the growing gap between them in bounds with his wings stretched out, giving him lift and speed. Obsession had left him unnervingly fast, but certainly nothing that was out of reach for a dragon his size. While he never truely left the ground, he was very light as his maw opened wide again for another strike, a lash for pretty dark shoulders. He was reared back on his hind legs, and foreclaws would follow, a slashing rain one after the other.
Octavian wasn't out to kill her though, no, not like sometimes. He was going to make her suffer, and then he was going to strike at what he believed to be a deep rooted fear in the demoness.
Aradia
Somehow, Toril jerked back before his teeth could touch her, but not the bite of his claws as they sunk through her feather fur and flesh. She let winced, both from the pain and the shrieking that had started up in her mind. How dare he touch me? How dare he?! I'm not his to strike, not his to touch... I'll make him pay, make him bleed...
She let those thoughts linger, let them fill her mind and soul. Octavian wouldn't leave her alone, she knew. The only way she would get away was through him. Whether he was dead or alive when she got through really didn't matter.
All that mattered was seeing his feathers on the ground, his blood joining the coat Fenris had left upon her. Maybe seeing my own blood spill, too, she thought grimly.
Toril ignored the urge to back off this time. Instead, she drove forward at him, spreading her jaws much as he did. Only her teeth found purchase upon flesh, sinking into his upper foreleg, and she could taste the metallic tang of blood. It made her mind sing to do this, and she started to shake her head violently, wishing to take a chunk of his flesh.
She let those thoughts linger, let them fill her mind and soul. Octavian wouldn't leave her alone, she knew. The only way she would get away was through him. Whether he was dead or alive when she got through really didn't matter.
All that mattered was seeing his feathers on the ground, his blood joining the coat Fenris had left upon her. Maybe seeing my own blood spill, too, she thought grimly.
Toril ignored the urge to back off this time. Instead, she drove forward at him, spreading her jaws much as he did. Only her teeth found purchase upon flesh, sinking into his upper foreleg, and she could taste the metallic tang of blood. It made her mind sing to do this, and she started to shake her head violently, wishing to take a chunk of his flesh.
GlacialWolf
He could feel that he had made an impact with her, mentally, even though the cost of it was possibly part of a foreleg. No matter. He had done much worse to himself, not too terribly long ago. Now the scars would match.
She already smelled like he wanted her to, bloody. That hint of metallic twang struck his nose like it might have done to a hound, and drove him forward. While she was occupied with his leg, he crashed his open beak into her neck. It wasn't something he had meant to do right away, but for the moment all of him didn't care. Whatever concience he once had was dead.
Warmth was running over his leg, and all he cared was forcing Toril into submission as quickly as possible. He bore down, clutching the back of her neck and drawing himself as close as he could in his slightly comprimising position. It would be easy, he knew, to simply do away with her. It would be better, far better, to make certain that emotional scar she carried would never heal. Just like his would not. Three horrible losses were more than most had to face in a lifetime, and Octavian had them in the short span he inhabited the oasis.
There would be a small satisfaction to making her as broken as he. It would slake a lust that Cicera and the others could not satisfy. Not a normal kind of physical lust, no, not at all. The halfbreed was not that kind of type, or so he believed. All he wanted, at this moment, was to brutally torture a dragon he had once known as so full of herself. Bring her down to his level in a flurry of raining featherfur and crimson watering the desert.
She already smelled like he wanted her to, bloody. That hint of metallic twang struck his nose like it might have done to a hound, and drove him forward. While she was occupied with his leg, he crashed his open beak into her neck. It wasn't something he had meant to do right away, but for the moment all of him didn't care. Whatever concience he once had was dead.
Warmth was running over his leg, and all he cared was forcing Toril into submission as quickly as possible. He bore down, clutching the back of her neck and drawing himself as close as he could in his slightly comprimising position. It would be easy, he knew, to simply do away with her. It would be better, far better, to make certain that emotional scar she carried would never heal. Just like his would not. Three horrible losses were more than most had to face in a lifetime, and Octavian had them in the short span he inhabited the oasis.
There would be a small satisfaction to making her as broken as he. It would slake a lust that Cicera and the others could not satisfy. Not a normal kind of physical lust, no, not at all. The halfbreed was not that kind of type, or so he believed. All he wanted, at this moment, was to brutally torture a dragon he had once known as so full of herself. Bring her down to his level in a flurry of raining featherfur and crimson watering the desert.
Aradia
The pain didn't hit her immediately, but when it did she had to fight the first reaction to howl in pain. Instead she swallowed it down, right along side a chunk of the halfbreed's flesh as her head jerked and tore it away from the limb. The last thing she'd let him have was the satisfaction of knowing he'd caused her pain.
However, Toril was in a bad position, with Octavian forcing her to the sand with his jaws and weight. Her thoughts were an enraged, frantic mess, wanting escape and to tear him apart. The part of her intelligent mind that still remained though, knew it was useless to fight back. Even if her body wasn't already tired from her flight and mauling Fenris earlier, he had all the advantages- position, strength, weight... She was going to get beaten.
When has that ever mattered? was the last lucid, intelligent thought that entered her head. There was truth in that- when had the facts of her own futility ever stopped her from trying before?
Her body started to thrash as she pushed back, her legs digging into the sand beneath her to try and get support, her head trying to bang against his to let him go. It hurt like fire where his mouth was, and she wasn't making much of an impact, but it was something. Her tail, though, managed to whip out and lash the male across the face with the barbs, and she wanted to smile at that. At least one blow was accomplished.
However, Toril was in a bad position, with Octavian forcing her to the sand with his jaws and weight. Her thoughts were an enraged, frantic mess, wanting escape and to tear him apart. The part of her intelligent mind that still remained though, knew it was useless to fight back. Even if her body wasn't already tired from her flight and mauling Fenris earlier, he had all the advantages- position, strength, weight... She was going to get beaten.
When has that ever mattered? was the last lucid, intelligent thought that entered her head. There was truth in that- when had the facts of her own futility ever stopped her from trying before?
Her body started to thrash as she pushed back, her legs digging into the sand beneath her to try and get support, her head trying to bang against his to let him go. It hurt like fire where his mouth was, and she wasn't making much of an impact, but it was something. Her tail, though, managed to whip out and lash the male across the face with the barbs, and she wanted to smile at that. At least one blow was accomplished.
GlacialWolf
Octavian had a long habit of ignoring even large amounts of pain. It came from his incessant self-wounding, from which he still carried many scars. Now was no different. His own blood ran into the sand from his leg, clumping the small pieces of quartz together at his feet, but he paid it no mind. His cheek too, stung mildly and crimson dripped over his beak.
Still there was no real stopping him. The futility in the female's struggles brought him to a new height of feeling powerful. The halfbreed had never gone so far in bringing physical harm to another since he entered the oasis, but all that was changing right now.
He twisted, jerking her neck to keep the demon well off balance. She could claw at the sand all she wanted, but Toril would never find solace or stable ground there. Octavian flung his bulk against her, completing the task of knocking the demoness flat onto her side. His teeth had made their impression, but he wasn't out to kill her and that much was obvious by the fact that she was still breathing.
Beak full of fur and blood, there wasn't much chatter coming from him still. The large male would simply hold her there a while, let her get a little more of the fight out before he let go of her neck long enough to carry on his planned 'conversation' that would lead, hopefully, to the further mental breaking of the femme. It was only a matter of time now.
Still there was no real stopping him. The futility in the female's struggles brought him to a new height of feeling powerful. The halfbreed had never gone so far in bringing physical harm to another since he entered the oasis, but all that was changing right now.
He twisted, jerking her neck to keep the demon well off balance. She could claw at the sand all she wanted, but Toril would never find solace or stable ground there. Octavian flung his bulk against her, completing the task of knocking the demoness flat onto her side. His teeth had made their impression, but he wasn't out to kill her and that much was obvious by the fact that she was still breathing.
Beak full of fur and blood, there wasn't much chatter coming from him still. The large male would simply hold her there a while, let her get a little more of the fight out before he let go of her neck long enough to carry on his planned 'conversation' that would lead, hopefully, to the further mental breaking of the femme. It was only a matter of time now.
Aradia
Toril snarled at Octavian as she was jerked from her paws and onto her side, the male pressing down on top of her. She could barely move under him, and she already knew that if she kept up her thrashing all she would accomplish would be tiring herself out. As things were her neck was really starting to bother her, and her left wing felt as if it were bent at an odd angle. Not to mention that the mere feel of him against her made her skin want to crawl off.
Pig-headed to the end, though, she persisted flail and jerk as much as her position allowed, trying to wriggle away some how. Growling and hissing at him with every breath. All the while, she wondered what was going to happen once she was too worn out to keep up the struggling. Kill her? Beat her, try to break her... Or something other vile thing? It made her feel ill to think about it, but the thoughts still occurred.
She wouldn't ask though; she didn't want him to know that even the tiniest shred of fear may be inside her. It certainly wouldn't help her case. Besides, she thought to herself, closing her eyes for a second, I probably deserve what is to come.
It didn't take too much longer for her struggling to grow weaker, her breathing more ragged. Toril's neck hurt like hell, and she could barely stand his touch any longer. She glared at him out of the corner of her eyes and rasped, "Either finish whatever you've started or get the hell off of me, b*****d."
Pig-headed to the end, though, she persisted flail and jerk as much as her position allowed, trying to wriggle away some how. Growling and hissing at him with every breath. All the while, she wondered what was going to happen once she was too worn out to keep up the struggling. Kill her? Beat her, try to break her... Or something other vile thing? It made her feel ill to think about it, but the thoughts still occurred.
She wouldn't ask though; she didn't want him to know that even the tiniest shred of fear may be inside her. It certainly wouldn't help her case. Besides, she thought to herself, closing her eyes for a second, I probably deserve what is to come.
It didn't take too much longer for her struggling to grow weaker, her breathing more ragged. Toril's neck hurt like hell, and she could barely stand his touch any longer. She glared at him out of the corner of her eyes and rasped, "Either finish whatever you've started or get the hell off of me, b*****d."
GlacialWolf
Octavian was not about to let an opportunity slip out of his claws. He had a rather attractive female well pinned, and his sense of morality wasn't kicking in at all. Now dragons didn't rape persay, they didn't reproduce traditionally speaking, however that didn't mean the large male couldn't be very lewd toward his captive.
Grinning like a fool, he finally released her neck. The halfbreed didn't bother to respond immediately, instead he took to grooming out the featherfur on her throat that he had marred. A little roughly, but Octavian managed to keep a little of the intended sensual undertone in his touch of her. It wasn't as though she was in a position to argue being showered in.. affection.
It was long minutes before he was finished. The twisted male groomed whatever bits he could reach without being bitten or releasing Toril from her pin twice over, until her featherfur shined. "Oh come now, you have to relax a little," he hissed, sprawling more against Toril as he muttered to her. "You've no chips to bargain with here, and are very much trapped. You're mine, Toril, and I'm going to prove it."
Grinning like a fool, he finally released her neck. The halfbreed didn't bother to respond immediately, instead he took to grooming out the featherfur on her throat that he had marred. A little roughly, but Octavian managed to keep a little of the intended sensual undertone in his touch of her. It wasn't as though she was in a position to argue being showered in.. affection.
It was long minutes before he was finished. The twisted male groomed whatever bits he could reach without being bitten or releasing Toril from her pin twice over, until her featherfur shined. "Oh come now, you have to relax a little," he hissed, sprawling more against Toril as he muttered to her. "You've no chips to bargain with here, and are very much trapped. You're mine, Toril, and I'm going to prove it."
Aradia
When he finally released her neck, Toril thought- no, prayed- for a second that next would come the finishing blow. An end to the humiliation and the hell that had been that night. It was too good to be true, but even a Demon could pray for something.
The halfbreed didn't kill her though. Instead, Octavian spent the next few minutes grooming her, all around the spot where he had bitten and anywhere that was beyond the reach of her beak. She had tensed up almost immediately, every muscle in her body clenched to the point that if she moved something, she was certain said something was going to snap. Toril remained that way throughout the entire process.
After what felt like a miniature eternity, he stopped his grooming of her. By the end her body had started to quiver from the tension, and she was trying her hardest to get her mind away from this, trying not to think about what might come next. She missed all of what he'd said, except the last sentence. Those words made her blood run cold and her heart start thundering in her chest with fear.
"You're mine... and I'm going to prove it." The Angel Thernis had said that Caelestes a long, long time ago. Toril remembered that. The Angel had had her former self in much the same position she was in now... Helpless, overpowered, trapped... Devadas had come to Caelestes' rescue that time though. A fiery savior, protecting the woman he loved.
No one would be coming for Toril. She had made certain of that.
A surge of panic spurred her to resist again. It wasn't as strong as it had been earlier, of course- Octavian had made sure she'd worn herself out. A frightened babbling reached her ears, and to her horror it was her own voice, frightened and pitiful, and it poured out without her even thinking what she was saying. What she shouted at the end shocked her, though.
"Nononono! Not your's! Not your's to touch! Get off, get off me! I'm not your's! FENRIS! I'M SORRY I HURT YOU! Help me! Help me! Please don't be dead..." By the end she was sobbing, and anything she might have said was lost in her whimpering as her renewed struggling weakened again.
The halfbreed didn't kill her though. Instead, Octavian spent the next few minutes grooming her, all around the spot where he had bitten and anywhere that was beyond the reach of her beak. She had tensed up almost immediately, every muscle in her body clenched to the point that if she moved something, she was certain said something was going to snap. Toril remained that way throughout the entire process.
After what felt like a miniature eternity, he stopped his grooming of her. By the end her body had started to quiver from the tension, and she was trying her hardest to get her mind away from this, trying not to think about what might come next. She missed all of what he'd said, except the last sentence. Those words made her blood run cold and her heart start thundering in her chest with fear.
"You're mine... and I'm going to prove it." The Angel Thernis had said that Caelestes a long, long time ago. Toril remembered that. The Angel had had her former self in much the same position she was in now... Helpless, overpowered, trapped... Devadas had come to Caelestes' rescue that time though. A fiery savior, protecting the woman he loved.
No one would be coming for Toril. She had made certain of that.
A surge of panic spurred her to resist again. It wasn't as strong as it had been earlier, of course- Octavian had made sure she'd worn herself out. A frightened babbling reached her ears, and to her horror it was her own voice, frightened and pitiful, and it poured out without her even thinking what she was saying. What she shouted at the end shocked her, though.
"Nononono! Not your's! Not your's to touch! Get off, get off me! I'm not your's! FENRIS! I'M SORRY I HURT YOU! Help me! Help me! Please don't be dead..." By the end she was sobbing, and anything she might have said was lost in her whimpering as her renewed struggling weakened again.
GlacialWolf
Octavian practically howled with acid laughter. There was no one to come save her, she was completely helpless in his grasp. Nothing she could do. Every fiber of him spurred on, willing him to take full advantage of this. He shifted and grabbed hold of her with both forelegs, stifling her weak struggles as best he could. From here, much of her upper body was exposed to him. Complete control. Wasn't that what he had been looking for all along.
The male let loose a horrible evil cackle right into Toril's ear. Low, villanous, full of the unnatural hate that had siezed him ever since Vestakia's light had left and he was dominated by that evil which had threatened to sieze him for as long as he could remember. "No one is coming," he hissed, "You've ruined everything for yourself. He's probably bled to death and will never know whats happening to you right now."
Oh it was delectable. Octavian ate her sorrow like a vampire, feeding off of it. It spurred him on, brought him to new heights. Roughly he groomed out more of Toril's featherfur, plucking bits out here and there on purpose. His. There was nothing she could do to stop him. "You have no savior." He couldn't have stopped even if his concience started screaming right now. "You are mine." More beautiful black fur through his beak. "No one else has claim to you." He felt as though the more acid words spilled from him, the more took their place. "You killed him, Toril."
No, he wasn't going to kill her. He was going to finish breaking her and then he was going to make her completely his. Toril would follow along without protest. "You don't deserve to be helped," he growled, gripping her lightly with his claws, letting her feel his powerful body against herself. Shake, quiver, tremor, the halfbreed wanted to feel the demon's body fear his touch. He would be all over her, his fur mingled with hers. "Demon," he hissed, "murderer."
Octavian's pink tail wrapped over Toril's demonic dark one. He lavished rough affection all over her neck and cheeks and shoulders with his beak. Hind legs clutched her too now, pressing the female deep into the soft sand. Bulk played an advantage here, his body outmassed hers by far.
"I am your punishment."
The male let loose a horrible evil cackle right into Toril's ear. Low, villanous, full of the unnatural hate that had siezed him ever since Vestakia's light had left and he was dominated by that evil which had threatened to sieze him for as long as he could remember. "No one is coming," he hissed, "You've ruined everything for yourself. He's probably bled to death and will never know whats happening to you right now."
Oh it was delectable. Octavian ate her sorrow like a vampire, feeding off of it. It spurred him on, brought him to new heights. Roughly he groomed out more of Toril's featherfur, plucking bits out here and there on purpose. His. There was nothing she could do to stop him. "You have no savior." He couldn't have stopped even if his concience started screaming right now. "You are mine." More beautiful black fur through his beak. "No one else has claim to you." He felt as though the more acid words spilled from him, the more took their place. "You killed him, Toril."
No, he wasn't going to kill her. He was going to finish breaking her and then he was going to make her completely his. Toril would follow along without protest. "You don't deserve to be helped," he growled, gripping her lightly with his claws, letting her feel his powerful body against herself. Shake, quiver, tremor, the halfbreed wanted to feel the demon's body fear his touch. He would be all over her, his fur mingled with hers. "Demon," he hissed, "murderer."
Octavian's pink tail wrapped over Toril's demonic dark one. He lavished rough affection all over her neck and cheeks and shoulders with his beak. Hind legs clutched her too now, pressing the female deep into the soft sand. Bulk played an advantage here, his body outmassed hers by far.
"I am your punishment."
Aradia
Toril didn't know why she'd said that. Why she'd let Octavian know anything of what happened, know how scared she really was. How guilty she felt. And how all she wanted right now was for Fenris, healed and alive, to come to the rescue. She wouldn't care if he hated her for what she'd done- the Demoness would deserve every ounce of his scorn- as long as he would be alright and end this nightmare.
She said the words, though, and there was know taking them back. Octavian knew everything, and every word that came off his tongue stabbed at her heart and soul, as piercing as sharpened claws. The weight of him covering her, the warmth of the halfbreed was nearly suffocating. Oh, and how she squirmed and flinched at every touch, every little tug upon her featherfur. What he said was the worst, though. Vicious words, made all the more worse that they were true.
He's right. He's right. You know everything he says is true, don't you? You murdered the Angel, and you deserve this, Demon... hissed the darker part of her mind, venomous with self-loathing. No matter that she shook her head weakly to what Octavian said, or how fervidly she whispered "No", Toril knew it was a futile attempt at denial. All the hoping and wishing in the world wouldn't bring Fenris to save her. Praying that he still lived was useless.
No one answered a Demon's prayers.
"I hate you," Toril sobbed, bowing her head and flinching away from him. Her entire frame, so small beneath his, was quaking beneath him from fear, from hatred. A voice at the back of her mind whispered, Not as much as I hate myself, though.
She said the words, though, and there was know taking them back. Octavian knew everything, and every word that came off his tongue stabbed at her heart and soul, as piercing as sharpened claws. The weight of him covering her, the warmth of the halfbreed was nearly suffocating. Oh, and how she squirmed and flinched at every touch, every little tug upon her featherfur. What he said was the worst, though. Vicious words, made all the more worse that they were true.
He's right. He's right. You know everything he says is true, don't you? You murdered the Angel, and you deserve this, Demon... hissed the darker part of her mind, venomous with self-loathing. No matter that she shook her head weakly to what Octavian said, or how fervidly she whispered "No", Toril knew it was a futile attempt at denial. All the hoping and wishing in the world wouldn't bring Fenris to save her. Praying that he still lived was useless.
No one answered a Demon's prayers.
"I hate you," Toril sobbed, bowing her head and flinching away from him. Her entire frame, so small beneath his, was quaking beneath him from fear, from hatred. A voice at the back of her mind whispered, Not as much as I hate myself, though.
GlacialWolf
He was almost finished with her, the acid nearly done spilling from his tongue. His beak kept grooming, harshly, roughly, dropping bits of her fur into the sand on top of the ones she'd managed to slash from him. No longer did he have to hold her down quite so forcefully, Octavian's point had been made. The demoness could not escape from him, no matter what her hopes were. She had killed her love, admitted it to him, and now she was paying pennance.
Not that Octavian believed himself to be righteously intervening. It was just how the encounter happened to work out.
"You're worse than me," he hissed at her, more hate rolling through his voice. The halfbreed moved his tail now, stroking the demon, bathing her in his masculine scent. She wouldn't be able to wash him off for days, and every moment of it would remind her of him, and what he could do to her. "You're a murderer. You have no right to hate me." He loved this. Loved hurting her, traumatizing her. Octavian loved the feel of her shaking beneath him and the sound of the sobbing coming from a prideful demoness.
It was an aphrodisiac. It was everything the halfbreed could do to keep from panting, or letting his voice get husky in Toril's ears. Though perhaps he should have, it would have terrified the femme even more. But after all, he was almost finished. "You're nothing," he growled, finally unable to keep how pleased he was from leaking into his speech, "You don't deserve anything at all."
He threw back his beak and laughed horribly, the sound echoing through the night sky.
Not that Octavian believed himself to be righteously intervening. It was just how the encounter happened to work out.
"You're worse than me," he hissed at her, more hate rolling through his voice. The halfbreed moved his tail now, stroking the demon, bathing her in his masculine scent. She wouldn't be able to wash him off for days, and every moment of it would remind her of him, and what he could do to her. "You're a murderer. You have no right to hate me." He loved this. Loved hurting her, traumatizing her. Octavian loved the feel of her shaking beneath him and the sound of the sobbing coming from a prideful demoness.
It was an aphrodisiac. It was everything the halfbreed could do to keep from panting, or letting his voice get husky in Toril's ears. Though perhaps he should have, it would have terrified the femme even more. But after all, he was almost finished. "You're nothing," he growled, finally unable to keep how pleased he was from leaking into his speech, "You don't deserve anything at all."
He threw back his beak and laughed horribly, the sound echoing through the night sky.
Aradia
Toril fell quiet, save for her heavy sobs and harsh whimpers every time he yanked some of her fur out. She couldn't deny what he said. The demoness was nothing. Anything she could have been beside a Demon, a monster, had drifted away the first time she'd struck Fenris and tore into his fiery fur and flesh.
I'm no Angel, she thought wearily,shirking away from Octavian at his frightening laughter. That sound sliced into her as sharply as fangs or claws could have. She squeezed her ruby eyes shut against the sound, her smaller frame quivering all the more. I deserve this... Angel... Fenris... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
I'm no Angel, she thought wearily,shirking away from Octavian at his frightening laughter. That sound sliced into her as sharply as fangs or claws could have. She squeezed her ruby eyes shut against the sound, her smaller frame quivering all the more. I deserve this... Angel... Fenris... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
GlacialWolf
Octavian was still laughing when he settled down next to her. He was going to sleep near her, suffer her to seeing him as soon as she woke. The halfbreed was horribly evil, and there was almost nothing now that would turn him around. Too much had happened that would force him to be this way forever now, or so he thought.
"I told you that you're mine," he whispered, lustfully now to her. The giant halfbreed curled around her smaller body, one foreleg over her to prevent escape. It was simple, she would sleep next to him because there was nothing else she could do, of that he was certain. Grinning horribly, Octavian lay his beak down over her and closed his eyes, Toril's whimpers and shaking actually lulling the vicious beast into a state of relaxation, and it wasn't long before he slept.
"I told you that you're mine," he whispered, lustfully now to her. The giant halfbreed curled around her smaller body, one foreleg over her to prevent escape. It was simple, she would sleep next to him because there was nothing else she could do, of that he was certain. Grinning horribly, Octavian lay his beak down over her and closed his eyes, Toril's whimpers and shaking actually lulling the vicious beast into a state of relaxation, and it wasn't long before he slept.
