#Holy shit that was long af and I'm still writing pffttt

[demilillith]

So here’s a draft of that story I worked on with Demi and Fimb:

Demi breathed and watched his breath flare against the cold winter air. There was always something wonderful about the changing of the seasons, not just the excuse to wear flannel everyday, he supposed. And with that, there was something so charming about snow in the forest he would frequent, the otherworldly aesthetic… The curious eyes of the inhabitants who dwelled there… And the dark skinned man who would question him about life outside of the forests canopy.

When he thought about it, clutching the red and black patterned fabric closer to his neck, the wintery air must not be good for a man who was practically the forest guardian, anyway. And much less, with the squirrels and the other animals leaving perhaps for the season, Fimbulvetr would likely be lonely. And of course, the last time he tried to get him away from the forest, the man refused, under the pretense that he was bound to his duty… to his home… To protect, shelter, and watch over the land with his best foot forward.

And so Demi huffed, kicking up the snow on his black boots and thanking the divine for crafting steel toed boots for the weather and wiggling himself closer into his heavy suede jacket. Sure, he may have been confused for a brown polar bear walking, but he was safe, and warm, and his palms were freezing… Gods, they were freezing.

Snapping his fingers, a small flame appeared in his hands, the words echoing in Demi’s head for the flame, “Burn… Burn…” His darkened eyes searched around for the familiar glimmer amongst the snow. A green light, perhaps, or the faint look of a scarecrow hat. The tell-tale deep voiced chuckle that would scare the crows away. Or maybe the light colored hair… Oh, who was he kidding. The truth was that he needed the company too, he admitted to himself. They both needed each other, they knew it. One would come all the way to visit the other, and the other…

Demi gulped, recalling the words Fimbulvetr had said in another time, his knees weak at the word’s meaning. “I will be your guardian. Your shield. Your forest.”

Fimbulvetr…

Another name for the coming of the inevitable… Ragnarok and it’s harshest winters…  Along with warfare and bloods pooling…

Demi smiled, as he walked along the path and trudged the snowy terrain. His horns were pulsing, the heat catching onto them slightly but the feeling was welcomed, it reminded him he was still alive. 

“Well… The clearing shouldn’t be too-“

“Why are you here?”

Demi turned on his heel, instinctively sliding the small athame from his sleeve and pointing it to the inquirer, before realizing his mistake and sheathing the blade. 

“Gah… Whew, it’s only you, Fimb… You nearly had me lop off your head in an instant!” Demi stammered, though far more shaken to the core. Fimbulvetr’s sharp gaze pierced into his soul, before eyeing the sleeve of his jacket.

“You would not. Gungir would have already impaled you. However,”

He turned away, green jacket tattered and exposing the scars on his body. What little remained showed itself with the tawny skin that was ripped and torn and healed all over again. The spear, emerald and gold, was tarnished with smeared blood, and used as a makeshift crutch as Fimbulvetr groaned.

“Fimb…” “Worry not.” “Fimb, what happened.” “I merely am doing my job, as guardian of this forest, it is my duty to-“ “You’re hurt.”


Demi shucked off the coat and immediately the flames dispersed to the air, melting dewdrops onto Fimbulvetr’s hat. He watched with his one eye, how this demon hand moved with such precision, how he had pulled out a small booklet no bigger than his hand and flipping the pages as he searched for whatever else may be left within the space. He smiled, though it soon turned to a grimace as he clutched his sides, vision blurring as dark crimson spread across his palms.

“I…”

Demi eased the larger man down to the coat lying for him. While it was a size too big for him, Fimbulvetr’s sheer size allowed it to be accommodating, the suede being wrapped his hunkered body. Writhing in his new prison, Fumbulvetr tried murmur about the obvious constraint:

“This is… Far too small…”

Demi huffed, the frustration seen in his sharp glare as he uncurled his flannel patterned scarf and began to tighten his grip upon the cloth. 

“No words, unless you’re going to explain what the hell happened to you.”

Fimb sighed. There was no way he would escape the demon’s question, whether he liked it or not, the man would probably make some truth spell just to spite him. Fimbulvetr shuddered when Demi’s softer hands laid themselves on his exposed torso, the jacket moved aside in order for Demi to chant some cheerful words and hope the wounds would heal. Warm breath gushed from his mouth, one of Demi’s hands found themselves gently on Fimbulvetr’s chest, the demon’s eyes closed. The gash on the Guardian’s abdomen faded, the seams of flesh sewn back together in an instant and leaving but a small scar in its place, along with the bruises colored indigo and black.

Fimb breathed haggardly, the touch was divine, as if his flesh was yearning for the grace of Demi’s caresses… And yet, it was ironic. For a man like he, who vowed to protect Demi, it was truly the other man who was the one protecting him from further harm as sad as it sounded. 

“Come on…” Huffed the incubus, now trying to find some sort of item in his pockets. 

“Speak to me, what happened?”

“I…”

“Was it a wild animal?”


Demi made a small “aha”, as he pulled forth a small clear bottle of liquid from the pocket of the jacket wrapped into Fimbulvetr. With a hiss, Fimbulvetr grit his teeth with reckless abandon as he growled in pain, the alcohol burning as it sizzled into his body. 

“I know, I know, but it’s to clean the other wounds. Whatever scraped you like this, literally made tracks over your body, Fimb.”

 Fimbulvetr couldn’t hear, the words were drowning him, light blurring, as the soft delicate voice of the incubus lulled him to sleep.

——————

Fimbulvetr woke up with a start, tea green hair flopped along with his neck as he begun to realize his surroundings.

A warm dark lavender, almost the same color as a lounge, with the faintest magenta coming to life via gemstones collected in a makeshift light to the corner of the room. The slightest hint of incense wafted to his ears, and as Fimbulvetr delicately touched his missing eye, and sighed in contentment at the familiar feel of his eyepatch… Soon realized where he had lain about.

Demi laid bare, next to him and gripping his waist with a tightened hug like that of a child and it’s toys. Fimbulvetr’s hat was gone, its starchy voice being un-woefully missing and his coat thrown onto a chair nearby. Gungnir laid across the jacket, its pale green light pulsating as Fimbulvetr’s eyes drifted to his naked torso. The two lied together, for god knows how long, but he hadn’t mind, in fact… Was this but a dream?

Was this the gods’ way of mocking him? By shoveling him off to another world? Another chance?

Demi’s ears perked slightly, before moving his body closer and letting his arms lay on Fimbulvetr’s sides. Growling slightly, Demi mumbled in his sleep a simple, “Go back to sleep, you’re fine.” And tossed himself closer, causing Fimbulvetr to grimace as he felt Demi’s touch rake against his senses.

Oh, curse thee, makers of earth, temptress of seas, king of fire and lustful air…

He tried to hold his breath, but he gasped tightly as his body felt stimulated beyond belief. For a warrior such as he, to feel another’s touch on his own body was inevitable, but impossible.

Was it not because he truly cannot ever feel a touch so delicate?

Was it due to the Incubi’s touch? His air? His baleful and light gaze? His-

No, no it could not be, as Fimbulvetr felt his icy body melt into the covers, it never was. He was trapped, as he watched Demi’s form smoothly lift itself up and lay itself on top of him. He was trapped, by a true demon.

“Lay with me.” It writhed, claws beginning to assuage his opinion.

“No.” His reply firm.

He felt a soft “thump” as the demon continued, spitting saccharine words to his ear, hips gyrating on Fimbulvetr’s ever stalwart thighs.

“Oh, come on now. You’ve always wanted this, tree. Don’t deny yourself this ungodly pleasure. I’m quite sure he too would agree…” It sighed, grasping Fimbulvetr’s hand to place onto it’s heaving chest.

“I refuse, demon!” “Golly,” it mocked, voice a caricature of the original. “Seems you don’t realize it is me! Oh well, just know… We’ll be friends forever, Fimb.” “Gods! Leave me be, you filthy creature, at once!”

It laughed, head rolling back in laughing as it continued, hips bouncing to an invisible rhythm and musk permeating the air, incense burned and the colors shifted and bathed the two in its sensuality. Rouge, Lotus, Lavender... Colors mean nothing when the only thing felt was pure raw “pink”.

“Don’t you see? I’m simply your consciousness. You want him, tree. You want every, last, piece of him.”

Fimbulvetr didn’t speak, only kept an angry eye and turned away as the demon’s fingers grasped his chin and wrenched it closer to its… Entrancing aqua eyes, its curvaceous sly grin, the familiar way its hair was played with by the wind…

“You’re so pitiful. A demon like him can manipulate you to such lengths? Really?” It chuckled as Fimbulvetr groaned, unable to even lift a finger against its lies.

“How would you feel if we simply gave you… Everything?” It purred, raising its stolen hand into the air and making a circle in the air thrice. Immediately crawling onto the bed were more copies, each as lust drenched in words as the first, two grabbing Fimbulvetr’s arms and pulling them apart onto the bed, the other pulling back the covers.

“How… Scandalous.” “Fimb…” “Touch us.” “Taste me.” “Take me.”

Every single last word was dipped into his weakness, and in what seemed like forever, Fimbulvetr could feel release in his bonds as the grip on him faltered, the bodies worshipping and playing with his body like it was mere clay to a sculptor.

Fimbulvetr groaned, body rigid, but lust beginning to melt his structure, his thighs began to piston away from the encroaching threat, his eye shut from sheer sensitivity as he clawed his way from the illusion that called out to him.

“How… Disappointing, Tree, you were always much much bigger than him, anyway.” Fimbulvetr’s eye opened in shock as he felt himself thrown back onto the bed on his own spine, the doppelgänger above his knees and peering into his very eyes.

Its eyes, painted fearsome magenta, was the only “light” in the room, as two more eyes opened from his “cheeks”.

“You don’t realize how weak you really are, do you..?”

“Demon of the Abyss…!” Fimbulvetr spoke, half out of rage, half out of rising fear and he scrambled for control that was already snatched from him. Gritting his teeth, he was pushed back onto the bed with such force that the bed jostled uncomfortably. The dark figures leaned close, its eyes peering down, one glimpse seemed disappointed, the other seemingly bored as it pierced into his heart as it spoke to him:

“Your heart will betray you. You have lost.”

Fimbulvetr screamed.

———————

Once again, Demi found himself wondering why the hell was he catering to this unconscious, idiotic, muscle-bound, charismatic- He didn’t understand why he was keeping Fimbulvetr in his room, much less his apartment of all place… That along with breaking the taboo of taking the Sentinel out of his post, and with bringing him to another District altogether with the usage of a quick fire teleport spell he had fashioned out of 3 tries trying to rhyme “facade” and “carapace”.

Sighing, he collapsed on the bed next to the forest man who laid patched up and thankfully not bleeding under his sheets. Demi watched his chest rise and fall as time went on, before noticing the sharp eyebrows of his guest twitch repeatedly, as though stuck in a dream. The incubi’s hands felt the top of his forehead and worried innocently if the man was having a nightmare: It sure enough reminded him of his own that Olliver had to check on him… He even questioned to Parvati absentmindedly what he should do. He had taken a stranger, well, a “stranger” to his home, and let him in his bed. What would Olliver say? The Madam? Parvati?

Demi huffed and carefully brushed the other man’s long hair with his hands, pulling the covers up to Fimbulvetr’s naked chest and had made note to leave his jacket and hat along the desk and chair of the small room. It was a makeshift room, he was certain, the way it was slim but chic and held all his belongings neatly. The desk was bare but filled to the brim with sticky notes, figures of gods and drawings and to-do lists. The hat strangely sat silenced, as if observing Demi’s actions instead of vulgarly insulting his intellect or behavior. It was odd, but Demi wasn’t concerned about that. No, no, he was more concerned about the man who laid injured in his bed writhing under his warm touch. He was more concerned about his heart, as it pulsed faster, still knowing he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t really ready for anything, yet, he here was.

Demi leaned over to the free side of the bed, still stuck in his jeans and flannel, and found the outlet plug for his lava lamp. Hoping it would give him some relaxing light, Demi held his breath as he leaned over Fimbulvetr and plugged it in. Colors of blue and green softly glowed as the night grew fuller, Demi sitting up in his bed and shucking the flannel jacket off. Tossing it to the chair next to the forest soldier’s jacket, Demetri slid off the bed and walked over the small rug. He looked over to the man sleeping in his bed, noticed the hat that was eyeing him inquisitively and slipped into the restroom to change himself into a red and black striped pajama pants and a simple tank top. It was simplistic, but comfortable, and at this point, the way it looked: He should get comfy. The healing he had done was minimal, almost adequate for what he had learned with Parvati. He prayed over the man’s body, called the blessings of Gaia and administered medicine all the while never leaving his side. He grimaced, acknowledging true demons wouldn’t engage in such manner; Not that he really cared, he wanted this man safe. He wanted him to smile and call him “Little Wolf” and caress his cheek and ask him to read him the Wizard of Oz. He wanted…

“That’s right,”

He said, sliding back into the bed facing away from Fimbulvetr.

“What I want isn’t what matters right now.” With a silent goodnight, Demetri curled up leaned his feet away from the guest he had in bed with him. He was ready to dream the night away if it would let him, and prayed lest it then be swift.

Demi watched the colors of the wall glow, softly lulling him to sleep against the paler, lavender moonlight rising above. His eyes were pulled like a puppet’s, and the next he knew…

When he was about to finally sleep, he felt the faintest of touches around his waist.

It was one of the few times he could go to sleep so easily, that night.