The forest was quiet in that eerie way that said something very big and very bad was nearby. Even the wind was still, which was odd in this part of the woods.
Percy crouched behind a mossy boulder, trying to keep the crunch of dead leaves under his shoes to a minimum, which at the moment was failing. He wasn’t exactly used to forest stealth missions with a group that generally preferred he wasn’t even there. Normally it was walking somewhat confidently with a group, or just sort of sneaking around knowing he could probably stab whatever went after him before it could actually do anything.
“Try not to trip over yourself, Seaweed Brain,” Thalia whispered, causing him to jump. Right, wonderful. One of his most annoying cousins was also part of said group and was also here.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Percy muttered back, “if I trip, it’ll be because you zapped me with one of your ‘friendly’ nudges,” which was met with a snort and another zap. At this point he swore he was going to get shocked one day and not even feel it. Another party trick, 'hey look at me, I can get shocked and keep going'.
Ahead, the Hunters were ghosting between the trees, silver eyes gleaming under their hoods. They moved like liquid through every obstacle as if they had the land memorized. Artemis was a few paces ahead, her silver bow drawn, intense concentration on her young, eternal face. She was in her 12-year-old form, which would occasionally shift into something older when there was a snap of a branch, like she was about to launch into protective mode. She was focused. Tense. Almost…worried? Then again, the goddess had always been protective over her group.
They were tracking something old. Big. Something that had reportedly flattened a dryad grove and torn apart a Cyclops like it was made of papier-mâché. For Percy, a typical day; for these hunters, some who looked very new, probably not so much. A lot of them looked young, but there was no guessing how old they actually were. He had met a 10-year-old who apparently had been 10 for a while, judging by how she spoke.
“So,” Percy whispered to Thalia as they moved, “how exactly did I get drafted into the 'no boys allowed' hunting party?” He thought that was kind of their thing, no boys allowed.
“You’re bait,” Thalia said cheerfully. “Monster likes demigods. Especially smelly ones. Lucky us, you’re the stinkiest.” Wow. Rude-
Percy opened his mouth to retort, but Artemis raised her hand. Everyone froze.
Then the trees exploded.
The monster whatever it had been before it was twisted into nightmare-fuel came barreling out of the dark. It was at least fifteen feet tall, covered in black fur and jagged plates of bone, with too many eyes and not enough legs, some of which were definitely arms. Something Percy had seen in the pit leapt into his throat.
Chaos erupted. Arrows flew. Thalia whipped out her shield, Aegis, flashing it toward the beast and stunning it for half a second, enough for Percy to summon Riptide and move toward the creature. No time for battle strategies, just to hack whatever nightmare this was down. Annabeth probably knew what it was and its weaknesses, but right now Percy was going to jab at it and hope for the best.
In the corner of his eye, Artemis moved like silver lightning, leaping and firing from midair, her arrows finding joints and soft spots. Which was epic, awesome really, but as Percy was discovering, his sword scraped off its armor plates, revealing a regenerative property.
“Eyes!” she barked out like an order. “Blind it!”
Percy didn’t need to be told twice. He jumped, slicing at the central cluster of glowing yellow orbs, yanking the monster’s attention toward him. Maybe that was a mistake; he realized that a half a second too late when it swatted him like a bug.
Pain exploded in his ribs. He crashed into a tree, then another, and landed hard on the forest floor, dirt spraying around him along with chips of wood and bark. The world spun. Voices echoed, Thalia shouting his name; Artemis’s clear command to keep fighting. Everything was spinning, and he could barely breathe.
Oh, this would be a stupid way to die.
Then darkness.
When Percy jolted awake, his lungs screaming at him as he gasped for air, coughing a bit, which only made the pain swamp his chest like a tidal wave. He wasn't on the forest floor surrounded by wood chips or in a crater; he was sure he had just been thrown through several trees. Instead, he was on a bed of soft furs, a faint flicker of what looked like flames dancing on the silvery walls. Was..he inside a tent? How did he get here? His head spun, groaning as he tried to sit up.
Soft white furs were spread across the floor. Silver light flickered from a fire that somehow wasn't a fire, casting dancing shadows across canvas walls that rose higher than they should have. The whole thing smelled faintly of cedar, pine, fresh snow, and something sharp and clean that Percy immediately associated with moonlight.
Which was ridiculous.
Moonlight wasn't supposed to have a smell.
Then again, neither was the Underworld, and that had definitely smelled like wet stone, old metal, and despair.
“Nice of you to rejoin us, Perseus.”
Percy let a startled noise out, kicking out of reflex, groaning in regret when his body protested with another wave of pain shooting through him. " U-ugh... what-what happened?"
“You were foolish,” Artemis said, but not unkindly.
“Brave. You distracted the beast long enough for us to strike its heart. You saved lives.”
Percy groaned, attempting to sit up again. Pain shot through his side like he’d swallowed lightning. Which, given how many times he had been shocked, he figured he would be used to by now.
“Lie down,” Artemis ordered. “You sustained some rather serious wounds.”
“So just a normal Tuesday,” he muttered.
By this point, however, he had pieced something together. He hadn't seen the goddess once at this point. Not in the slightest. The tent walls shimmered like silver cloth caught in a breeze. Shadows danced across the canvas despite the fact that nothing seemed to be moving. A mimicry. Something he had experienced way too many times at this point. Which meant.
"So...I'm guessing you're healing me?" Percy asks carefully. His pain had faded as he sat here. It felt less like bleeding out on the battlefield and more like lying in bed the day after, sore but alive. Silence met him at first before a sound that sounded like fluttering birds came from around him.
Ah.
Yep, he was most definitely inside a stomach right now- or less stomach and more like whatever Artemis assumed should be there. It would make sense if it was like the hunters' tents. If she was going to comfort her younger or new recruits, this would be familiar, safe.
"And others assume you have no common sense, Peresus."
Her voice sounded amused this time, fond even. Which was rare for a goddess who allegedly hated men. Then again, it seemed less like hating men in general and more like stupid men taking advantage of women. Which, fair, he always felt pure hatred for the guys who leered at his mom or took advantage of her. A sense of satisfaction settled at remembering Gabe's statue.
"I have my moments, but ah... thank you..I mean you could have just shoved some ambrosia in me and sent me back to camp." He says with a shrug, knowing she couldn't exactly see it. The space moved slightly, the tent fabric fluttering, much like wind was ghosting through. Probably a laugh, or a huff.
"You do not comprehend how injured you were. You needed a more in-depth method of healing." Artemis explains patiently. Not annoyed, thankfully, just exasperated, like she was trying to explain to a toddler not to shove their fingers in an electrical socket. Percy nods slowly, lying back down against the furs, closing his eyes.
Becoming an unwilling missile crashing through trees probably wasn't exactly a feat meant for humans- well, half-human.
"Still, thank you." There were few gods he genuinely respected; Artemis was one of them. She clearly cared for her hunters as much as a god could, at least. There was a pause of silence before the lights dimmed against whatever mimicry of fabric lined his vision. It was a different sensation of healing than his father's.
The sea had always felt energetic. Alive in a sense like crashing waves, urging him to get back up, to keep moving, to fight. Like having espresso for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
This...
This was quieter. Like moonlight on still water healing instead of strengthening. Sort of like sipping tea in front of a fire. The silence that had settled around them was comfortable, nice even. Time seemed strange here. The flames were wild and untamed, but seemed to repeat a cycle, like a memory of how fire should look. The shadows didn't behave properly. Every so often, the canvas walls would ripple gently, and Percy would catch glimpses of moonlit forests, snow-covered mountains, and star-filled skies. Every god and goddess always seemed to have a stomach that didn't even look like a stomach. This one reminded him of Aphrodite- no technical stomach appearance.
"For now... rest. Once camp is settled, I will let you out." Artemis murmurs, startling Percy from staring intently at the flickers of the fire. The light dimmed more, like the sun fading, the twinkling of stars appearing in the darkness that had spread. Percy was going to protest, but ultimately decided that it wasn't worth it. Fighting sleep had always proved very ineffective to anyone who had crammed him down.
When he woke again, he wasn't in pain anymore, blissfully thankful to the gods- well, specifically Artemis. At first he assumed he was still in the stomach- or what passed for one until he realized the tent had an entrance this time. One that one 12-year-old goddess stepped through. She didn’t smile, but her gaze softened. Something he had seen her do when interacting with the younger campers. It was weird having it directed at him.
"You seem in better spirits." She commented after a moment, her gaze ghosting over him, seemingly satisfied with his lack of injuries, which he apparently had a lot of. One glance down at his clothing showed exactly what all had been healed.
"Well, I am no longer actively dying... which is kinda weird for me." He answered, licking his lips. Oh, he would absolutely kill for water right now.
Footsteps approached, and Thalia ducked inside, holding a canteen. Thank the gods for some relief from his pain. He held his hand out automatically, already knowing that there was wonderfully wet water there.
“Hey, Seaweed Brain. You look like you got sat on by a god.”
“Did I at least look cool doing it?”
“You screamed like a startled dolphin.”
Artemis shook her head as she exited, but Percy swore he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips. Maybe the bickering reminded her of her brother. He was pretty sure the two bickered constantly. He took this moment to gulp down the water, feeling like a dried-up sponge rehydrating. Sure, the pain was gone already, but water always felt better.
“You did good," Thalia murmured after a moment, looking to the entrance of the tent, probably to hide the look of concern on her face. Her silver circlet glinted in the shine of the campfire that was no doubt outside.
"Awe, praise? From Pinecone herself, I must be in Eslisym." He says dramatically, smirking when she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Don't make it a thing. Jackson." She snaps, no heat in her tone.
He smiled, wincing. “Yeah… I think I’ll let you all handle the next ancient horror. I’ll stick to fighting my normal big bads.”
Thalia chuckled. Outside, the moon shone through the trees, and the quiet of the forest returned not empty, but at peace. Not a bad ending to a hunt.
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Can you please make a story/one shot about Apollo and Hermes fighting over who gets to eat Percy? Would love to see it!
AHH of course! Bickering siblings I think make things 10x better))
Percy sat curled up in a corner of Cabin Three, his back against the cool wall, chin buried in his knees. The dark creeping in like he owed it money. He wasn't scared of the dark per say, but the memories... battles he didn't want to remember, lives lost-
Sleep wasn’t safe anymore. Sleep meant dreams. Dreams meant memories, and frankly he was getting tired of the bitter ones. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting a breath out. Triton would be by anytime, or maybe his dad... Instead, he heard some familiar bickering.
“Oh, come on, Hermes, it’s my turn. I haven’t had a saltwater snack in ages”
“You’re practically hoarding him, Apollo! This is about comfort, not for cravings you get.”
“Excuse me, but my gut is a sanctuary. You wouldn’t understand. You’re all stress and caffeine and FedEx energy.”
“Better than being drenched in honey.”
Percy groaned and pressed his face into his knees. So Triton would need to wait then- or maybe he could just sneak out the back. The cabin door creaked open slightly before practically slamming off its hinges. Apollo’s radiant head popped through, golden hair slightly wind-tossed. “Percy, sunshine, sweetheart, whirlpool - are you still awake? That’s bad. You need rest.”
“Not happening,” Percy muttered, glaring at the god with a scoff. He knew Apollo was trying to butter him up, and he very much didn't appreciate it. The sun god had constantly been trying to sweet-talk him into tummy time since he had accidentally been toward pushy and Percy had taken a decently sized chunk out of his forearm.
Hermes phased in right behind his brother, leaning against the door frame like he owned it. Not stepping in quite yet, because doing so would have instantly alerted Poseidon and neither god wanted to have not one but two sea gods on their asses about stealing kids. “You don’t have to dream, you know,” he said casually. “We’ve got two very plush, warm, and certified-safe options right here.” He pointed between himself and Apollo.
“We offer cozy darkness, gently rhythmic thumping, and a complete emotional reset. Five stars on Yelp.” Percy blinked at them, trying to figure out if they were serious about this. There's no way two gods were about to fight over him being a salty sea snack.
Apollo beamed. “He’s sold. Get in line, speedboy.” He declared, flicking Hermes' forehead.
“You get in line.”
“No, you-”
“I swear,” Percy mumbled, dragging himself upright, “if you two fight over me again, I’m going to crawl into the chimney and sleep there.” They both froze, silence briefly falling between them all.
Hermes held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Rock-paper-scissors?”
“Best of three,” Apollo countered immediately, a wide grin stretching across his face. At this point... Percy wasn't invested in the winner anymore; he just wanted a nap. Considering Triton and Poseidon weren't here yet...
Percy sighed, already shuffling toward them, exhaustion making his limbs heavy. “I don’t care who wins. Just… no dreams. Please.”
Apollo’s golden gaze softened almost instantly, his blinding glow dimming to a soft light, and Hermes didn't have a comeback, instead a worried look settling over the god's face.
“Dreamless,” Hermes promised, already throwing his hand,
“Wrapped in sunshine,” Apollo added, matching Hermes until both threw their hand out at the same time. Apollo sported scissors, and Hermes rock. Hermes had won the match, though Percy could have cared less at this point. Apollo let a dramatic sigh out, but stepped aside with a wink directed at the demigod.
Percy didn’t even react when Hermes snapped his fingers. Percy had learned that blinking made the whole shrinking process sort of more bearable, but at this point seeing everything massive was always disorienting. Hermes gently scooped him up, holding him close like something breakable, his fingers curled around him like a railing.
“See you in twelve hours,” Hermes told his brother smugly. Apollo gave Percy a two-fingered salute with a fond smile. Not pouting, not demanding- something that Percy appreciated, the sun god seeming to have learned boundaries since the last incident.
“Dream sweet, whirlpool.” Apollo comments, giving Hermes a pointed look, eyes narrowed like his brother was a constant offender of being 'too much'
“Don’t scuff the kid,” Apollo muttered. “He’s got trauma in at least three flavors.” Something Percy didn't have the energy to fight right now, his head resting against one of Hermes' fingers, just focusing on the gentle heat of divinity that radiated from the god.
“I’m not you,” Hermes responded, slowly lifting his hand from his chest to his face. Percy didn’t resist. He barely had the energy to blink, let alone argue. His body felt like driftwood, hollow and slow to move. The process had, to his annoyance, become very familiar at this point, his head lolling to the side.
“Easy,” Hermes murmured, one finger bracing the back of Percy’s head like cradling a chick. “No more nightmares tonight, champ. Just hush.”
Warmth washed over him like a gentle tide when the god opened his mouth, carefully sliding Percy in, keeping his movements smooth. There was no rush, which was odd for a god constantly rushing things; a tad flattering if he was being completely honest. Hermes had sorta always been like that when it came to this, however, always taking it slow, pausing to let him back out if he wanted. Percy closed his eyes, letting a small breath out, absentmindedly patting the muscle beneath him, a silent 'go ahead'
Still nothing moved any faster; Hermes tilted his head back, gravity slowly causing Percy to slide to the back of the god's throat. His feet paused at the slight slope, the sort of slide way down. Not truly a throat, not in the sense mortals understood. The thought made Percy huff sleepily, wriggling forward to speed the process up.
"Come on Hermes, I'm tired." He grumbles, patting the roof of the god's mouth.
An amused chuckle rumbled around him, and after a second Hermes' tongue shifted him upwards before a swallow tugged him downwards. There wasn't much resistance, so he slid down slowly, like a slide full of pillows. Not exactly fast but not slow either. Then came the familiar sensation of being squeezed like a tight hug, and he landed with a plop into the god's stomach.
The space shifted around Percy, muffled and muted as if someone had wrapped him in a soft, living comforter. He settled like a sigh exhaled into deep water, his stress disappearing like bubbles floating to the surface. The walls around him were pulsing in a quick sorta pace, the warmth with divine energy and smelling faintly of lemon balm and old letters. Not paper, but parchment, dusty and timeless. Somewhere, just beyond the flesh, he could hear Apollo saying... something. He couldn't hear it, and at this point he didn't care all that much.
The space wasn’t tight, but it felt snug in all the right ways. Like being tucked under a weighted blanket that breathed. The stomach wasn’t slimy, not really. The lining shimmered faintly, plush and slightly slick with something. At this point Percy was pretty sure gods didn't actually have saliva but decided whatever they wanted. Like Apollo's weird sticky honey, like whatever it was. Occasionally, little pulses of static rolled across the walls, and a breeze washed over him.
He curled up, muscles already going slack, warmth cradling every inch of him.
“There we go, kiddo. Shut it all down. Just me and you and nothing else.” Hermes sighed above, his voice a low murmur through the walls.
Yooooo I just saw that you have a Iruma vore story!!! Could you do one with Balam sensei but maybe as more of a grounding like Iruma had a really bad panic attack and Kalego isn't at the school. I am also curious how big he could store Iruma? Also another request Could do one Where Iruma is the Demon King and still wants Kalego to store him every once in a while. He teases Kalego by doing that whine he has perfected.
AHH Glad you enjoyed the first one!! So with Balam I'm thinking that if he wants to conceal it's going to be more of a smaller stature, what 12 inches is to him, its s bit of a swell but nothing to drastic. Considering he has more bird like feature I want to head cannon that he could probably do like possibly 2-3 feet before things get a bit too tight for the passenger- BUT here's your two for one!!! I hope you enjoy- and sorry it took so long!
The first sign that something was wrong was that Iruma could not feel the floor.
Not literally. The stone beneath his knees was still there, cold and solid through the fabric of his school uniform, but the sensation meant nothing. His body had gone strange and far away, as if he were sinking through the corridors of Babyls instead of crouching in one of its empty side halls, one hand clamped over his mouth so tightly he could barely make a sound.
His lungs burned.
He tried to breathe in and got only a sharp, useless pull of air that scraped the inside of his throat. Another came too fast after it, and another, each one smaller than the last, until it felt like he was trying to breathe through water.
No. No, no, no-
The memory hit him again, sudden and vicious.
Passing by an empty classroom when he heard a group of older students talking.
"Imagine if a human actually got into Babyls."
"They'd be eaten before sunset."
"Or sold."
"Or experimented on."
"Either way, they'd never survive."
The students laughed. They weren't talking about Iruma specifically. That was almost worse. The conversation had turned, in the horrible certainty that one more second, one more mistake, and everything would collapse. He had even reached the relative safety of a quiet hallway before his body had simply… stopped obeying him.
Now his chest felt too tight for his heart. His hands were shaking so badly he could not fold them, could not unclench them, could not do anything except sit there and panic while the entire world narrowed to the sound of his own ragged breathing.
Kalego wasn’t here.
That thought came next, cutting through the haze. Not because he wanted Kalego’s lectures or the sharp-edged criticism that usually followed, but because Kalego had become, in his own impossible way, a fixed point. Someone who knew. Someone who watched too closely. Someone who had made it very clear that Iruma’s continued survival was apparently a matter of personal responsibility.
And he was gone.
Out of the school.
Unavailable.
Of all the terrible luck. He could summon the demon as his familiars, of course, but it wasn’t an emergency; he wasn’t in danger. He had just had a jolting realization that he was just a snack to these demons.
Azz and Clara were nearby somewhere; he was sure of it. They would have come immediately if he called. Clara would probably have thundered down the hall already if she’d heard the first bad breath of it. Azz would have gone white with worry, then furious at whatever had caused this, then even more furious at Iruma for not asking for help sooner. They would help, and that was the problem. He couldn’t tell them what had shaken him. At this point it was something silly to be frightened about; he knew the demons wanted to eat humans, the song they sang every morning declared that constantly.
He pressed a fist against his chest and bent forward, as if that might stop the shaking. It did not. He felt dizzy instead, lightheaded, like the hallway was tilting. The far wall blurred. He tried to drag in another breath, and it stuck halfway, leaving him trembling harder.
“Iruma?”
The voice was soft, careful, and immediately his body jerked with fresh terror. He looked up too fast, his vision swimming with tears. They fell hot and heavy down his cheeks as he tried getting enough air in his lungs.
Balam stood at the end of the hallway, half in shadow, one hand still resting on the doorknob of a nearby classroom as if he had just stepped out and found Iruma there by accident. His expression was different from the one he wore in the lab, less hidden behind odd enthusiasm and more stripped bare by concern. His eyes sharpened immediately when they fell on Iruma’s face.
For one awful instant, Iruma thought of running, but his legs refused to work. Embarrassment washed over him. Here he was sniffling like a baby over something he heard every day.
Balam closed the distance slowly, deliberately, stopping several paces away instead of crowding him. No sudden movements. No questions yet. Just that unsettling, piercing calm of his, as though he had already read the answer in Iruma’s expression and figured out exactly what he needed. Iruma tried to speak; he really did, he wanted to reassure his teacher that he was fine. Nothing came out except a sound that was embarrassingly close to a choke.
Balam’s brows drew together, concern shining through his eyes. If Iruma had to guess, the demon was probably wearing a frown behind his mask. “Don’t try to talk.” His voice dropped even lower, the sort of tone usually reserved for handling wounded beasts or frightened children. “You are breathing too fast.”
His vision swam again, aware of every awful thing at once: the wet heat of tears spilling down his cheeks, the pressure in his chest, the way his fingers had gone numb, the fact that he could not stop himself from shaking. He could hear blood pounding in his ears like distant drums.
“What happened?” The question alone nearly undid him. Because of course Balam would make sure he was okay. It was clear the demon didn’t know what to do, probably assuming this was some weird human thing that just happened when they were overwhelmed or something. Iruma’s throat tightened enough to hurt. He looked away, toward the floor, toward anything but Balam’s face. The shame was immediate and hot, being scared over something that was so- so silly.
“It’s silly- really, I don’t want to bother you, Balam- Sensei.” He managed to choke out, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. He wasn’t even a crybaby; he wasn’t sure why this had affected him so much. Iruma drew one shaky breath, then another.
“It’s not silly, not if it's upset you this much,” Balam says after a moment, then shuffles closer, his arms open in a familiar manner. “May I give you the human custom of ‘hugging’” he continues, not making any other sudden movements. Iruma could see how much the demon was holding back; however, he knew the teacher loved holding small things, and well... he was rather small compared to the demon.
Iruma couldn’t help but laugh, the sound trembling. He didn’t verbally answer at first, instead just sort of collapsing into the hug with a pleased noise. Balam was always so... fluffy and nice to hug. He was more than glad he had gotten that custom to go around. Apparently hugs could regulate a human’s nervous system; who knew?
He sat there a little longer, still trembling, while Balam remained with him in patient silence. No questions he could not answer. No pressure to explain what he was not ready to say. Only time, and breath, and the strange, impossible fact that one of the few demons who knew his secret was not using it against him.
At last, when he could speak again without his voice cracking completely, Iruma said, “I didn’t want to bother Azz or Clara.”
“They are your- ah, the human word is… Friends correct? Isn’t that what you describe friends to be for?” Balam prompts gently, still keeping his arms around Iruma, the hug still comforting even now. Of course Balam-Sensei remembered that little tidbit.
“W-well- I mean I..just..not with this actually- I mean I don’t think I should…It’s a human problem, not a demon one.” Iruma says finally, watching understanding bloom over Balam’s face.
“Oh! Is it something that you need assistance with? Is there a human way of dealing with it?” Despite everything, his teacher was still so excited about discovering all of what humans needed. Iruma couldn’t help but laugh, shakily closing his eyes as he leaned closer into the embrace.
“You- ah, you can say that.” He says quietly, feeling bad for subjecting the demon to all of this... then again, he was sure Balam would get excited about learning about hiccups. “Right now... now I was having a panic attack; it um... it happens after something that triggers a fight or flight response,” he explains quietly.
Balam didn’t answer right away, instead taking note of how the boy was still trembling, still seemed out of it. Iruma took a shaky breath in, trying to ground himself, but he felt so... exposed. Kalego wasn’t there, gone, so he couldn’t exactly go ask to be stuffed in what the demon called a ‘pouch’. Unless. He slowly looked up at Balam, the demon examining him with a concerned gaze. Oh, this was embarrassing but…Iruma would like to get back to class as soon as he could, and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to go face his classmates yet.
“Balam- sensei..I have a big ask.” He says after a few moments. A massive ask if he was being completely truthful. The demon tilted his head, clearly waiting for Iruma to continue, so he did. “A while ago, Kalego-Sensie, um... he put me in a pouch, and it was- it was really nice and comforting- so I was wondering, well, only if you really want to- if you could- I mean, just for a little while, you know, until I calm down a little.” He rambles, playing with the fur lined around Balam’s neck, not daring to meet the demon’s gaze just yet.
When he did, he was met with Balam’s eyes practically glowing with delight, pure and utter delight. Large warm hands gripped his shoulder firmly but trembling with what Iruma guessed was excitement. If Iruma hadn’t learned about Balam's sense long ago, he would have mistaken it for hunger.
“I would be honored for you to trust me this much,” Balam murmured, scooping Iruma fully into his arms and shuffling into the empty classroom, vines securing the door as an extra precaution. Iruma couldn’t help a shaky laugh at how cautious the teacher was truly being, though he appreciated the effort.
He wondered how they were going to do this; Balam was already so much larger than him, so he doubted there was much the demon would have to adjust size-wise- then again, Iruma had no idea what all Balam could handle size-wise.
“I’m going to take my mask off- oh, this is truly amazing, Iruma, the trust you are allowing me to do this,” Balam says giddily, setting him down on the desk as he fumbles with the mask concealing his fangs. Oh, that might be..an interesting trial to get past.
Balam seemed to notice him staring, tilting his head before straightening slightly. “I’ll be very careful; you won’t even feel it. I swear this to you,” the demon reassures quickly, holding his hands up with a soft warble. Oh! That noise Iruma recognized; Kalego had used it a lot recently, mostly when he thought no one else would hear it. Who knew demons were so vocal?
“Oh! I know you won’t hurt me. I just- it’s interesting because your fangs are a lot bigger than Kalego’s.” Iruma says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling bad for making Balam assume he wasn’t trusted. His assurance seemed to work, considering Balam practically beamed at him.
A smile found its way to his own face at this, putting his hands in his lap. “So- um, how is this going to work? Kalego sensei sort of shrunk me the last time.” He asked, feeling a tad shy about asking. He was curious, though; Balam was a larger demon after all, and had more bird-like qualities. He wondered if that varied from demon to demon-
Right focus! Balam tilted his head yet again- well, that answered that- before smiling wide again, his eyes crinkling with eagerness to most likely explain. The teacher did, after all, like to teach.
“I won’t need to adjust your size all that much; you’re already rather small compared to him. I will adjust a bit; I don’t want you feeling crammed inside.”
“Oh! That makes sense- well, ah, I’m ready.” Iruma says, closing his eyes in preparation. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and with a small warning, he felt a tingling sensation dancing under his skin briefly, the warmth of the hand getting a bit bigger. When he opened his eyes, things weren’t completely massive, but he had shrunken a bit. Small enough that he seemed doll-like compared to the bird-like demon now. “Oh! Is this size alright for you?” He asks nervously, relieved when Balam just chuckled fondly.
“If I’m being honest, I can handle much larger, though I’m sure it might be... a tad obvious,” Balam says sheepishly, shifting slightly before hovering a hand near Iruma. “May I begin?” He asks quietly, watching him like he's analyzing any movement to suggest being uncomfortable. That was what he liked about Balam; the demon was also so focused on ensuring he wasn’t frightened. Iruma couldn’t help but lean into the warmth, closing his eyes with a pleased sort of rumble he had heard some of the other students make when happy.
It seemed to be the right noise, considering a near thunderous rumble answered his just as eagerly, clawed fingers gently wrapping around his waist and lifting him up. “You’re learning more of demon vocalizations, very good,” Balam murmured, absolutely beaming, which looked a tad odd on his face due to his exposed cheekside and fangs, but something Iruma had come to enjoy seeing.
“I figured it would help me fit in a little more,” Iruma said shyly as he was lifted up more, his feet just outside of Balam’s mouth. If someone had told him that he would have been this calm with a demon about to quite literally swallow him years ago, he would have called them insane- well, not verbally but still. “Kalego Sensei makes me practice too, just to make sure I do it right.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Then you’re doing an excellent job.” Balam compliments, the warmth washing over Iruma with each spoken word. He can’t help but relax more, his nerves dying down more. Balam wasn’t Kalego, but he was just as protective and safe.
“I don’t mean to rush, but are you ready?” He prompts, his hands steady despite the slight trembling which Iruma guessed was excitement. Iruma gave a small nod with a smile. He didn’t bother lying, not with Balam’s bloodline ability being able to figure out lies.
“Yeah-yeah, I’m ready. It’s… thank you again for doing this.” He says, giving the demon’s finger a small pat. It earned him another smile from Balam before those fangs opened up again, and he was slowly eased inside. Warmth enveloped him from all sides as he was carefully lowered inside. The tight sensation caught his ankles, a gentle swallow rolling over his ankles, pulling him down to his knees, Balam’s hand guiding him in carefully the whole time, the massive tongue shifting behind him, cushioning him from getting sliced by the bottom fangs.
“Woah…” He murmurs to himself as another swallow pulled him in deeper, and carefully past the upper fangs. He craned his neck back as he sank in deeper, taking in how the fangs glistened in the light behind him, almost framing the outside world. If it was any other predator, this sight might have been terrifying, like a finality of seeing the sun, but with a demon he trusted? It was just cool. Like an oil art piece.
“This is really cool, Balam - sensei.” He says, giving the roof of the demon’s mouth a small pat. Laughing when a delighted rumble vibrated the entire space, an almost ticklish sensation. He shifts, taking in how absurd this entire situation was; he was surrounded by razor-sharp teeth, a slick, humid environment, something that should mark the end of a life was peaceful instead. His eyes closed with a small pleased hum, enjoying the sensation of the rumbling all around him.
Then, a few moments later, another rolling sensation tugged him down more; Iruma wriggled forward more to encourage Balam to pick up the pace, letting the demon know he was fine. It was always an odd feeling being slowly pulled down, muscles rippling around him, tugging him down with each swallow. The tongue lifted him upwards more, the teeth closing with a soft clack, sealing the space into a comfortable darkness.
Gravity took over mostly as Balam clearly tilted his head back, making the trip down more straight instead of a gently bending curve of the natural shape of the throat. Iruma smiles a bit at the consideration, wriggling down as the swallowed were less tentative little tugs and more powerful. He lets a small laugh out as he was pressed upwards against the demon’s pallet, then squeezed fully backwards, pushed down until the throat muscles fully caught him and easily pulled him down, and down, until his feet hit a batch of open air. Being squeezed into the pouch was different. With Kalego, he had been smaller, so there was more of a drop; with Balam, he was a larger size, so it was more of a controlled squeeze, like soft serve into a cup. The rest of his body followed his feet, curving slightly as he fully landed inside the pouch.
“Incredible, Iruma, you truly tasted indescribable.”
Iruma blinked in surprise before nearly hiccuping with laughter. Well, at least he knew Balam wasn’t too nervous about the situation.
“Thank you, Balam-sensei… for all of this.”
He really was grateful; it was… just perfect. A non-exposed space to just rest and process his feelings. Who knew constantly shoving down your emotions could come back with a vengeance?
A bit of a weight pressed against what Iruma guessed was the ‘front’ of the pouch, and pressed into it, trying to settle the best he could into the small cup of what was no doubt Balam’s hand.
“I will always be a space you can trust, Iruma.” Balam murmurs. Iruma closed his eyes and leaned against the pillowly soft flesh, taking in the gentle vibrations of the demon’s words with a small smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Beep boop a break!!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Iruma had been the Demon King for a decent while now; in the Netherworld, it was practically nothing, but to a human? It was substantial. To the younger demons, however, he was a legend, mostly to his classmates and peers. He had caused a lot of ruckus after all.
The great halls of the palace rang with his name. Nobles lowered their heads when he passed. Entire cities celebrated the anniversary of his ascension. Songs were written about his kindness, his impossible strength, and the era of prosperity that had followed in his wake.
Even now, the stories sounded ridiculous to him.
The King Who United the Thirteen Crowns.
The Beloved Sovereign.
Iruma still thought of himself as Suzuki Iruma. Well, mostly. He had learned the language of the Netherworld so thoroughly that he no longer had to think about it. He understood every nuance of posture, every flick of wings, every movement of a tail. Humans smiled when they were happy; Demons displayed the sharp edges of their teeth, their tails swished a certain way, ears twitched upwards.
Humans would hug; demons pressed their foreheads together or wrapped their wings around one another, tails twining together. Humans comforted one another with words and demons rumbled, purred, clicked, growled, and made countless other sounds that conveyed meaning far more clearly than language ever could.
Iruma knew them all. He had learned court etiquette, mostly from his grandpa, battle customs, mating rituals, protective instincts, territorial behavior, hatchling care, everything a netherworld-born demon should know.
The palace doors opened, pulling Iruma from his concentration on his papers, not fully, just his thoughts wandering to who was visiting now.
"Lord Iruma."
Iruma looked up from the mountain of reports covering his desk. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, black cloak perfectly arranged, expression as stern as ever.
"Kalego-sensei!" The title had long since ceased to be accurate. Kalego was no longer his teacher, and his own rank vastly loomed over Kalego’s, yet Iruma couldn’t bring himself to address the demon as anything else. Kalego was also still, somehow, exactly the same.
The demon’s scowl deepened, his ears twitching with pure irritation; his expression flattened even more.
"You have postponed your meal."
Iruma blinked. "How do you know that?" he asked, slight amusement creeping into his tone. Someone had been tattling; that was for sure. Perhaps a servant, or maybe Alice.
"The servants told me."
"I was busy," Iruma says straightening out his paperwork with a sly smile. He had already planned to take advantage of Kalego’s concern for a rather comfy pouch nap. Being an adult didn’t take away the fact that it was warm and comfortable.
"You have also neglected to sleep."
Iruma smiled sharply, tapping the desk with amusement. Kalego was sliding right into his trap perfectly. Iruma didn’t get to this rank just by being passive after all. Life was chess at times, but at others it was more like playing Connect Four with someone who was color blind. "Hello to you, too."
Kalego stared at him; Iruma stared back before adjusting his paperwork into neat piles for later. He wasn’t going to get around to it after this, and that would be fine. Kalego crossed the room, picked up one of the reports, and frowned.
"These could have waited."
"Probably." Iruma tilted his head as he watched Kalego scan the report before setting it back down on the desk, clearly annoyed that such a stupid report had graced Iruma’s desk.
"You are overworking yourself." The demon hissed, slamming both palms on the ornately carved wood. Hook. line and sinker. Truthfully, he wouldn’t even need to push all that much.
"I know." He says, spinning his pen with a mischievous grin, more so when Kalego’s next comment came.
"Then stop."
“Mmm. Make me.” He says, leaning forward, setting the pen aside as he looked up at his former teacher with a challenging grin. Everyone else saw the Demon King. Kalego saw the problem child who had nearly blown up a classroom. Everyone else treated him with reverence; Kalego still scolded him for skipping meals.
The demon folded his arms, nearly sneering, something that many others wouldn’t dare to do to the king. “You little brat.”
Which only made things more amusing. Iruma tilted his head thoughtfully, then he made a soft sound. Kalego froze mid sneer. A tiny trill, followed by a questioning chirp a sound of a hatchling seeking reassurance. Something Iruma hadn’t used very much, which only made it carry more weight.
Silence fell over both of them. Kalego stared at him as he had just set off another explosion in the classroom. Iruma looked innocently back, a wide grin on his face as he waited expectantly.
"...You did not just do that," his former teacher growled, his eyes narrowed to slits, but that didn’t hide the fact his pupils were dilated to the max.
Iruma smiled, resting his chin on his hands, looking up to the demon as innocently as he possibly could. "Do what?" he prompted, tilting his head. “Surely you’re not implying I, the demon king, am making baby noises.”
“I am fully implying that the demon king is resorting to such childish tactics to simply annoy me.” Kalego snaps, so Iruma made the sound again. This time, he allowed just the slightest note of exhaustion to creep into it.
Kalego's eye twitched, his pupils dilating again, his nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the ‘distressed’ hatchling as well. The problem was simple: in demon society, hatchling calls could not be ignored; they simply could not.
The instinct ran too deep; Iruma knew this, and Kalego knew that he knew this. After living in the netherworld for so long, Iruma had absolutely no shame, so another tiny chirp.
Kalego closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling in exasperation. "I refuse," he ground out, fangs grinding together with resistance, though Iruma could tell that was a losing battle. "You are manipulating biological instincts."
"Yes."
"Shamelessly."
"Yes."
"You should be ashamed."
"I am not."
"Clearly."
Iruma smiled, then his expression softened because, if he was being honest, he really was tired. Ruling an entire world was difficult; people depended upon him, demons looked to him for guidance, and every decision mattered.
Sometimes he wanted someone else to carry things for a little while.
Kalego was watching him carefully now. Iruma hadn't realized the exhaustion had become visible. How exhausted he had appeared this entire time.
A low rumble escaped the older demon, followed by a deep, exhausted sigh. Come here, brat." The words were spoken with all the enthusiasm of a man announcing his own execution, which was par for the course.
Iruma brightened instantly, standing from his chair, delight creeping into his exhausted expression. "You gave in!" He gleefully declares, partially skipping to the older demon’s side.
"I most certainly did not." Kalego scoffed, fingers already moving in the size adjustment spell. Iruma shut his eyes to avoid the disorienting feeling of shrinking.
"You absolutely did." He answered in a sing-song tone, stretching slightly as he waited for the tingling to stop its little dance under his skin. He was well due for some pouch time.
"You are merely preventing yourself from becoming inefficient."
“I feel I have been entirely efficient given my current rank,” Iruma answers cheerfully.
Kalego glared at him, opening his hand expectantly. Next to him, Iruma stepped forward immediately, hauling himself up onto the hand, using a finger for balance. His eyes half-lidded as he was lifted up.
The older demon was always efficient with the process, no lingering, no tasting, so waiting to see if he was doing alright. He was pretty sure the demon had grown accustomed to his tells at this point. “A royal snack, huh, sensei?” He asks, smirking when Kalego snorts as he brought the human up to his face.
Iruma waits, watching as a cavernous mouth opened in front of him, the tongue automatically draping over the bottom fangs to avoid nicking delicate skin. He was unceremoniously tilted inside, his feet sliding against the tongue as he slipped inside, the entire length of his body settling comfortably on the muscle, which delicately cupped around him, briefly keeping him from sliding any further. Fangs clicked together, fitting like a glove, leaving him in the darkness, then the motion started. Being lifted up, pressed firmly against the hard, then soft palate of the demon. The tightness of the entrance of the throat catching his feet, a thick swallow pulling him down with a nearly rocking motion.
Warm.
Protective.
Safe.
Kalego let out another low rumble, the sort adult demons used to reassure distressed hatchlings that everything was secure. Iruma could feel himself relaxing almost immediately as the vibrations washed over him, and he was pulled downwards deeper into the core of the demon.
He smiled as his feet hit open air, the rest of his body following with a squelch as he landed in the organ. "Thanks, Kalego-sensei." He murmured, giving the nearest ‘wall’ a small rub.
"You are impossible."
"Probably."
"You abused instinctive behavioral responses."
"Definitely."
"You planned this." That made Iruma laugh without any shame, looking up despite seeing nothing but darkness. His former teacher had him figured out to the max. "Absolutely," he chuckled, leaning more against the cradle of natural warmth. Kalego was silent for a moment; the silence was always comfortable, something Iruma appreciated.
"...Did it help?" Iruma let the thought roll around in his mind for a moment before smiling softly. "Yeah."
Another rumble, stronger this time. "I see."
Iruma smiled. The Demon King, the ruler of the Netherworld, the terror of his enemies, the pride of his people, and, apparently, still a hatchling. At least where Kalego was concerned.
The elder demon sighed. "Do not tell anyone about this."
Hello helplessly addicted to ur Iruma-kun stuff. Could we get some of that sweet sweet Kalego fearplay? Iruma's first time getting stored and maybe Kalego was a bit too spooky because he didn't realize Iruma *wouldn't know*? Batting by eyelashes at you.
OOOO Absolutely <3 <3 technicality I wrote one before where Kalego explained before hand so Iruma wasn't so absolutely terrified BUT we All know I love fear play soooo))
It had happened during the last lesson of the day.
The classroom had been loud, filled with the usual energy of the Misfit Class as everyone waited for the lesson to begin. Clara was somehow hanging upside down from a light fixture while excitedly singing a song she had made up; Sabnock was loudly proclaiming his intention to become the next Demon King and how he was more than a much better candidate; and Alice was trying to debate with him, reminding Sabnock how Iruma was clearly the best choice for the next Demon King.
It was in Iruma’s mind perfect. He was surrounded by friends, had a loving grandpa, and he felt…like he belonged. Becoming a demon’s grandson had been the best thing that-
A wave of nausea hit him as a flash of red washed over the classroom like a light burst. Everyone else looked around in confusion, but clearly hadn’t felt it the same way Iruma had. A spell had gone wrong. That was the only explanation. What type it was, there was no telling.
Iruma still wasn't entirely certain whose fault it had been. Given the class in question, it could have belonged to almost anyone. A surge of magic had flashed across the room, wild and unstable, and for a single, terrible instant, concealment magic failed. Iruma might not have been able to smell the change, but it was clear everyone else could, judging by how everyone’s noses were twitching, scenting the air.
“What... is that? It smells sweet.” Sabnock asked no one in particular.
The room fell silent.
Then Kalego moved before anyone could think. His wings spread outward, like a curtain as his magic flooded the air. Masking the sweet scent instantly. Iruma felt both more than thankful and purely terrified.
"Everyone out."
No one moved at first, then Kalego's ears flattened, his eyes narrowing in a way that demanded obedience. "I said out." The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Which got everyone’s attention, and within seconds, the class was filing out one by one, whispering to each other about what had happened. Iruma hurried to follow the class, wincing when Kalego’s hand grasped his shoulder firmly. “You. Stay.”
Iruma stood perfectly still, swallowing hard. That..was not a good sign. Kalego being angry or upset wasn’t uncommon; him being serious was normal, but this time it felt... wrong. Alice had paused in the doorway, having noticed Iruma wasn’t following everyone out, before his friend could protest or try to fight Kalego, he gave the demon a small smile. “I’m fine, just go ahead; I’ll catch up.” He reassures. Alice narrowed his eyes before slowly heading out and closing the door behind him.
Kalego looked down at him; Iruma looked up and offered a nervous smile. He didn’t feel completely doomed, so maybe he could save this. "...I can explain?” He said after a moment, the demon’s hand dropping from his shoulder as Kalego crossed his arms.
"I should hope so."
The boy swallowed, letting a nervous laugh out. He knew Grandpa and Balam had told him to never directly tell anyone he was human, but what convincing lie could he say to divert suspicion? Any adult demon would be able to clock his scent three miles away.
"I'm human." Iruma’s knees felt weak, like they had when he was doing anything. Kalego stepped forward, and Iruma took one unsteady step back, then another, until his shoulders hit the wall.
“Sensei...” His voice came out thin and cracked around the edges. He fully expected to be bitten, or torn apart or-
“You are not to say that aloud to anyone ever again.”
The warning struck like a blow. Iruma’s eyes burned all at once. The world narrowed to the shape of Kalego’s face, the stillness of his wings, the fact that the demon had stepped closer but not invaded his space yet, as if he were deciding how much space a frightened human needed. A terrible, childish thought flashed through Iruma’s head, so immediate it made him feel sick.
This is how I die.
Not in an explosion caused by a classmate wanting to betray them. Not in the middle of a battlefield while evacuating an amusement park. No spell cast gone wrong. Not protecting anyone. Just here, in an empty classroom, because the truth had slipped.
His breath hitched. He pressed a hand to his mouth and looked away, shame and fear colliding so hard he could hardly tell them apart.
Kalego stepped forward until he was directly in front of the boy, clocking any possible exit without some form of violence. Iruma flinched on instinct, but the movement stopped before it became force. The demon's hand settled briefly at the back of the collar, adjusting it with quick, precise motions, then withdrew as though he had touched fire.
Kalego extended one hand; dark magic gathered in the center of his palm, forming an intricate circle of crimson light. Ancient symbols rotated around its outer edge while smaller ones appeared beneath Iruma's feet.
Iruma's eyes widened. "S-sensei?" he choked out, suddenly feeling vastly underprepared for what was happening. The spell circle didn’t look familiar in the slightest.
"It is a compression spell." The demon answered as if he should just know that. Maybe they had covered it?
"...A what?"
Kalego’s eyes narrowed, the lights brightening as the circle completed. "You are too large."
Before Iruma could even question what that meant, the circle flared. A tingling sensation danced under his skin, making him jolt up. It was like having thousands of feathers ghosting over his skin. Then, in seconds, the floor seemed suddenly very close. He glanced up and up, and even more up, looking to his teacher in pure betrayal and horror.
“Sensei, how... how is being small going to help?” He squeaked out, flinching when Kalego crouched down, which was like a mountain falling. Terrifying. Too big, dizzying.
It wasn’t helping that the demon wasn’t answering, instead watching him with an intense expression that made Iruma’s skeleton sprint out of his body. Two fingers closed gently around the back of Iruma's jacket. Despite his terror of the situation, he had no urge to dodge, no itching sensation telling him how to avoid. As he was lifted up higher, Kalego switched from pinching the back of his uniform to settling him in his palm, continuing up and up until he was level with the demon’s mouth.
“Sensei- I this is, I think there’s a misunderstanding here?” Iruma squeaked, his eyes widening when Kalego opened his mouth a sliver. The enormous hand tipped forward another fraction.
Iruma's shoes slipped against the smooth surface of the demon's hand, his stomach dropping as he was face to face with the darkness of the demon’s mouth.
He had seen demons bare their fangs before, had seen enormous monsters during his time in the Netherworld. None of that had prepared him for this; the world beyond was framed by rows of gleaming ivory fangs.
Heat washed over him as the demon's breath stirred the fabric of his clothes and ruffled his hair. The dark cavern beyond seemed impossibly large.
“Hang on- Kalego Sensei, we can- can talk about this,” Iruma whispered, trying to think of anything, something to escape this situation. Instead of answering, the demon gently tipped his hand, and Iruma slid forward. He grabbed frantically around, trying to slow or even stop, and for one triumphant second, he succeeded in the descent, stopping the seemingly dooming second of sliding into what was clearly death.
His luck, of course, seemed to betray him yet again as his fingers trembled and slipped just enough that he slid downwards again, and given that Kalego had tilted his hand more, he slid right down. "No, no, no-" He gasps out, trying to grasp anything, but he couldn’t find purchase again.
Warmth surrounded him, and the world became smooth, slick, and impossibly dark. The only light came in from behind him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look back; he froze. He could feel the enormous strength surrounding him, careful but completely inescapable. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. His heart hammered so hard that he thought it might burst.
He was going to die.
The thought came immediately. Not because Kalego was cruel, or because he was hated. His teacher had seemed concerned in his odd way; that was what made it worse. Iruma couldn't bring himself to fight.
He couldn't bring himself to kick, scratch, or bite. This was Kalego-sensei. The same teacher who had protected him countless times. The same teacher who had saved the entire class more than once. Even if this really was the end, he couldn't hurt him.
Not that it would matter; Kalego was a powerful demon, and Iruma was human; more than that, he was tiny right now. Even if he fought with everything he had, what would it accomplish?
The realization made panic claw even harder at his chest. He turned to look out again, his mouth opening to say something, maybe to convince his teacher to just let him out, let him go so he could go get his scent concealed by his grandpa so things would be fine.
He saw the glimmer of white fangs, of light glistening off every single tooth, then the jaws closed. The sound echoed around him.
Click.
Iruma squeezed his eyes shut. Not that it would have mattered to have his eyes open either; it was dark, there was nothing to see.
This was it.
This was definitely it.
He felt himself being moved carefully, the motion strangely smooth despite the circumstances. The sensation was weird, like being coated in thick water, slimy. Iruma dimly realized that he was being slicked up for the trip down. Probably so Kalego wouldn’t choke. Warmth surrounded him from every side, and a moment later the muscles around him shifted.
The movement was almost gentle, until everything tilted; Iruma's eyes flew open as he slid backwards, not rapidly but enough that he let a startled whine out. “I’m- I’m sorry, grandpa, that I wasn’t strong enough.” He managed to choke out. He should have done something, and normally he would have, but..what did one even do in this situation?
The sensation was so strange and unfamiliar that his mind simply gave up trying to understand it. He was dimly aware of warmth, movement, and the steady rhythm of Kalego's breathing surrounding him. Then there was a powerful contraction. A swallow, that’s probably what it was.
“I don’t want to die.”
It took seconds, but it felt like hours, when he landed in what he thought was the stomach. Soft walls contracted around him, rippling at his intrusion as if the organ was trying to find out what had been dumped into it. With a horrible little hiccup of panic, he scrambled backward as far as he could go, pressing himself into the silky, slick-lined wall as if distance alone might save him. His heart was slamming so violently he could feel it in his throat. His breathing came shallow and fast, and tears blurred everything until the pouch became a warm, shaking blur around him.
“We- we can- Kalego Sensei, we can fix this- I can just- Just let me go. Please, I’ll hide it better I’ll-”
"Quiet."
The word rumbled around him, deep enough to vibrate through the space and make him realize with sick certainty that he was actually inside Kalego’s stomach now.
That was worse.
No, no, that was definitely worse.
He could feel the unfamiliar wetness around him, the brief, disorienting slide as the demon re-positioned him just by shifting with unnerving care rather than force. Iruma's entire body trembled so badly he could barely breathe. The thought that he might be trapped here, that the smallest wrong movement could mean some terrible thing, kept flashing through his mind over and over until it became impossible to think about anything else.
“You are not dying,” he said.
Iruma startled, eyes wide as he looked up. The words were so calm that they almost did not register. Not…dying?
Kalego repeated them, slower this time, as if forcing them through Iruma’s panic by sheer discipline. “You are not dying. You are not being handed over. You are not about to be exposed to the class. You are not in immediate danger from being within me.”
Iruma blinked once. Then again. Wasn’t he going to die? How? This was a stomach, right? He swallowed hard. “You... but- isn’t this- aren’t I going to get digested?” his voice was raw with emotion. There were very few things that frightened him now; so many things had solutions after all, but this? Being inside a demon didn’t have any peaceful solutions.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Iruma.” Kalego’s voice practically growled, the rumble of it vibrating the organ like a storm rolling in. That was enough. The certainty in it was enough. A shaky breath escaped him, and then another. His eyes were still wet, but the terror had begun to loosen, leaving only exhaustion and the faint, humiliating tremor of having expected the worst, of assuming the worst out of his sensei. He wiped at his face with the heel of one hand and stared down, watching the rippling of muscle around him.
“I really thought...” He started, his voice cracking slightly. He was being such a crybaby, yet again. He had never cried like this before, and he had been in some pretty dangerous situations.
Kalego said nothing, but he shifted, just slightly, the movement causing a gently swaying sensation inside.
Iruma looked up in confusion. “Sensei?” He whispered, trying to rein in his emotions.
“What you are in is not a stomach.” The demon started, taking an annoyed breath in. Clearly not having expected to have to explain this. “This is a pouch; many demons have them. There are many reasons for its use: storing important documents, herbs, a second meal and… rarely and only if it’s needed, hatchlings.”
What.
Normal? Iruma had a feeling his grandpa should have explained this to him. Now he felt silly for crying and thinking his teacher was actively murdering him.
“As you are human, this hides your scent as well.”
He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “W-well um, humans don’t have these so.. it was a little scary, Kalego-Sensei.” He admits, closing his eyes to take a moment to calm his rapidly beating heart. The silence that followed was almost heavy.
“Humans don’t have a pouch? So you assumed I was eating you.” It was said so plainly Iruma couldn’t help but laugh nervously again, ducking his head in embarrassment.
The noise that vibrated around him at that was one of pure disbelief and frustration. “This is not a laughing matter, brat! You thought you were dying AND BARELY EVEN FOUGHT!?” Kalego hissed out. Iruma could practically see the demon baring his fangs in disbelief.
“You’re my Sensie! Why would I fight- and even if I could, I’m tiny now!” He squeaks out, trying to rationalize his actions. Which only dragged a long suffering sight from the demon and several muttered curses that Iruma was sure were directed at him.
Kalego was silent for several moments. Then another irritated huff reverberated around the pouch. "I have tolerated your reckless behaviour. Your absurd luck. Your inability to recognize danger. Your habit of throwing yourself into harm's way. Your tendency to attract chaos as though you personally invited it."
Iruma’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the mention of his habit of getting into dangerous situations. It wasn’t like he tried to get wrapped up in plots; it just sorta happened.
"But, of all the ridiculous conclusions you have ever reached, that one is perhaps the most insulting."
"Insulting?" He asks carefully, looking up despite logically knowing he wouldn’t see anything but the dim view of rippling muscle walls.
"Did you truly believe I would allow one of my students to die?"
Oh.
“I..guess I didn’t think of it that way,” Iruma whispers, guilt seeping in. He had been so caught up in himself being found out that he hadn’t stopped to consider that he had made some... actual connections with the demons here.
After a moment, he pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them, letting the silence wash over them again.
“You are my student and your well-being is my priority. The fact you are human is irrelevant.” Kalego continued, Iruma jolting slightly when one of the pouch walls pressed in just slightly. Oh... was the demon- he leaned into the touch immediately, relishing the fact that even now Kalego was silently comforting him. Not saying it out loud, not even daring to mention what it was meant to be. Acting like he didn’t care, but the hand that brushed the barely noticeable swell, then adjusted clothing, checking that it covered where Iruma was securely hidden, gave him away.
“And if any of your classmates continue to pry, they will answer to me.” He said it in the voice of a man discussing paperwork. Iruma was too stunned to say anything. Nothing in Kalego’s tone admitted that his jaw had tightened when Iruma had cried out, how his scent had spiked with fear. Nothing in his expression confessed that he had already decided, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, that no one would ever be allowed to take this from Iruma. As did the fact that he stood there a moment longer than necessary before going to collect the other students back to the classroom.
When he finally spoke again, his voice had gone flatter, controlled down to the last thread. “You will remain with me until I decide otherwise.”
Iruma wiped his face again and gave a small nod. Then realized Kalego would need a verbal response rather than a physical one. “Okay.” He whispered instead. The fear was still there, but it was different now. Smaller. Manageable. Wrapped in the strange, fierce safety of a teacher who had not known the truth an hour ago and had still chosen, immediately and without hesitation, to guard it.
He could hear the muffled sound of a door opening, his classmates asking questions, mostly Alice demanding to know where he had gone, as he was very clearly not in the room anymore.
“Iruma was affected by the spell; he wasn’t feeling well, and so I called his grandfather to pick him up,” Kalego answered easily, as if he didn’t have a student tucked within his very being.
There were multiple voices that Iruma couldn’t properly understand, but the fact that all of them had seemed concerned made his heart warm. He wondered if they’d remain that open if they knew his secret…
“Back to your seats; he can inform you of his well-being after class.” Kalegos' voice rumbles in a snippy exasperation as he addressed the class. A smile quirks at the edges of Iruma's lips as he got comfortable. Even if he was technically ‘not here,’ he was still going to pay attention. It was still class time after all.
Could we get some more pred Percy? The poor baby god needs the attention he deserves, man
Of couse <3 I ah, gave a lot attention to the anxious godling just so you're aware !!
Percy had spent his entire life changing. It was like a river carving a new path, steady, consistent, but always changing. He had become a son of Poseidon. A hero. The bearer of a prophecy, then another one. A survivor of wars that should have killed him several times over. He had crossed the world, the Underworld, and Tartarus itself, and had the scars, both mental and physical, to prove it.
At this point, he had just assumed he was used to change, that he could take whatever came his way. He had survived this far; past his own life expectancy, he could handle anything the fates threw his way.
He had been wrong. Very, very wrong.
Ascension was not anything he had wanted, expected, or even thought about. It was not a flash of light, a declaration from Olympus, or the sudden appearance of immortality. Nothing as he had expected in the slightest. It was slow, relentless like a crashing tide.
Worst of all, it felt as though his own body no longer belonged to him.
Percy sat on the shore of the little lake of camp, digging his fingers into the damp sand, trying to anchor himself against a sensation he could scarcely describe. He couldn’t exactly feel hot and cold anymore, or pain. It was more of a dull presence, something he could control rather than something unexpected.
The sea had always felt familiar, comforting like home. Something he could always rely on, now it felt like a part of him. He could feel the currents moving hundreds of miles away. He could sense fish darting through reefs he had never seen. Storms gathered at the edges of continents, and somehow he knew exactly where they were, and it was too much.
His skin felt too tight, as if he were a butterfly trying to shed its cocoon. Like his whole body was just wrong, and worse yet, his body could not seem to decide what shape it wanted to be. One moment, his hands looked perfectly normal. The next, they seemed too large. His perspective shifted. The ground moved farther away.
“This... is probably what it’s like to be seasick,” he grumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t really feel sick anymore, but the memory was still raw in his mind, lending him the sensation. When he opened his eyes again, the tops of the pine trees were level with his shoulders.
“No no no, come on just be normal, just-” Panic struck instantly, then the world lurched as a terrible sensation ran through him, as though his bones had dissolved into water. The trees shot upward. The ground rushed closer.
He was himself again, and he still felt wrong. It felt like being unfired clay; yes, the shape was there, but it was slowly losing shape.
"Stop it," he whispered. Something he had said to himself so many times he had lost count. Unfortunately, it didn’t help yet again. He felt absolutely out of control of his life, which seemed like a common occurrence recently. He felt upset, annoyed, and mostly out of control.
The instant the thought formed, Percy felt it escape him as it moved outward. How he knew he had no idea; he just did. The thought slipped away like a drop of water falling into the sea, spreading farther and farther until it touched something immense. He hadn’t exactly grasped how the whole mind communication thing happened, meaning there was no privacy among immortals. At this stage, at least, anytime he ‘loudly’ thought, everyone heard him.
“Uggggh this is literally so unfair.” He hisses under his breath, to his immense frustration; immediately, he knew someone had noticed. Probably several someones.
Percy groaned quietly and lowered his head into his hands as multiple brushes of emotions brushed against his own consciousness. Concern, amusement, questioning. No direct questions yet, thank the gods, just a sudden awareness that he had some gods checking in on him. Great.
You alright there, Perc? Probably Hermes, the god who always felt like wind passing by whenever he ‘spoke’
Fine. Percy secretly hoped it sounded snappy because he very much didn’t want company right now. He groans and lies on the sand, staring up at the sky. Being a god sucked. He’d be cranky all the time if he had people hearing his thoughts all the time too. An annoyed grunt escaped him as he rubbed his face, trying to just focus on being him.
Which was, of course, when a prayer came in. Those were always so weird. Hearing what a demigod was praying to him, which meant it was probably lunchtime.
“Can we have a slumber party tonight, Percy? I’ll share my stuffie!”
That was probably Hannah from the Demeter cabin.
Other prayers quietly came in, some clearer than others. Always accompanied by whatever they had sacrificed- brisket, cookies, cake, grapes, strawberries- each prayer came with a scent.
No wonder the gods seemed so distant sometimes. Percy swore they simply didn't care. He was pretty sure if he had anyone talking to him right now, he wouldn’t be able to focus. He would never have let any of those prayers go unanswered; of course, he normally would just find whoever prayed to him later and either gently explain why he couldn’t do just do it because gods' younger kids really were cute.
Which instantly had a hollow ache in his stomach. An irritated groan escaped him. “I am not even near any kids right now.” He hissed, glaring at his middle. Percy hated the instincts. They had arrived gradually, enough that the first time he had the urge, he had wanted to go bury himself alive.
Gods sheltered their children; Percy knew that. He knew it was the safest spot for a demigod, surrounded within their half-godly domain. He had somewhat liked it, being completely surrounded by the sea; it made him feel like he had
The instinct was difficult to describe because it was not entirely emotional. It was something deeper than emotion. It was like a hollow pit, like a hunger that gnawed inside him until it finally got what it wanted. Percy didn’t give in often, and when he did, he tried to make sure it was someone he knew, like Annabeth. It helped her sleep, and that was beneficial. Sometimes Nico, if he couldn’t find her.
It didn’t help that every time Percy saw younger campers running through the fields or training in the arena, that horribly empty feeling came back 10x worse.
That wasn’t a human instinct; it was not the kind of protectiveness that he should feel toward his friends. Something that whispered that the easiest way to protect them would be to keep them near.
Inside himself.
Percy recoiled from the thought every single time. The first time it had happened, he had nearly been sick and, embarrassingly enough, had cried. Helping a kid back to their cabin and wanting to swallow them had nearly made him throw himself in the lake, and then actually swallowing his girlfriend? Ugh, it was a nightmare.
He dragged a hand down his face, staring as the clouds slowly passed by. Becoming a god sucked. Majorly. He couldn’t feel things the same; he could hear prayers, and other gods constantly heard his thoughts because he had no idea of how to keep them to himself. Worse yet, the other gods had been bewildered by his reaction; as far as they were concerned, there was nothing unusual about it. Storing kids was just normal, natural even.
“It’s peaceful actually, Perc, trust me it’s like having a hot chocolate when you’re cold.” He remembered Hermes commenting one day he mistakenly tried telling the god he felt... wrong about the whole thing.
As Triton explained to him one time, Gods had sheltered their children since the beginning of having them. Divine domains, sanctuaries, hidden spaces within their power- every immortal used their ‘stomachs’ like a cradle. Well, the ones who weren’t completely traumatized by the whole cannibalistic dad thing.
"You're fighting it again."
Percy shot to his feet, the water mirroring his panic by doing its best display of a water fountain, at the ready like it was eager to listen.
Triton stood several yards away, and like their dad, his older brother carried himself with a kind of effortless stillness. The sea moved around him instead of against him. Percy had always found that irritating, as his half-brother walked around with a stick up his ass; recently, though, they had a bit of bonding, and he just found it... well sorta normal.
“What, was my thoughts being broadcast to all of the godly world not enough of a hint?” He scoffs, his shoulders dropping
Triton approached, just standing him, not commenting about the sarcastic response. For a while, neither of them spoke, and he appreciated that. Most immortals seemed determined to explain why everything he was experiencing was perfectly normal. Triton, at least, seemed to understand that normal and easy were not the same thing.
"How large were you this time?" His brother spoke, glancing over to him, not pressuring him, just a general question. Either Triton had heard his thoughts, or he had felt the spike of divine energy as he struggled with his size like a human slinky.
Percy stared at the horizon, anything to avoid looking his brother in the eyes. "I don't know." He finally answered, watching as the cloud drifted by. Way more peaceful than he felt, frankly.
"Approximately?"
"Twenty feet."
Triton nodded like it was to be expected, which frankly was insulting. Nothing about this was normal. Not even his ascension; it had happened so quietly, so gradually that not even the god had noticed it.
Percy huffed, finally looking towards the older god. "You aren't surprised? Should I be offended?"
"You were anxious."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Triton turned slightly toward him.
"Everything."
Percy remained silent because he had a feeling he was about to get another crash course in god biology or whatever they had, considering gods had corporeal forms and non-corporeal ones.
"Your body is learning to reflect your nature," Triton explained. "Gods are not entirely physical beings. Our forms respond to our thoughts, our emotions, our intentions."
"That's ridiculous." It always sounded ridiculous, but Annabeth probably would have been nodding and agreeing. The joys of being a smarty pants, he assumed.
Triton's gaze shifted toward the cabins in the distance, probably listening to the laughter and chatter of the campers. Percy was that for sure. There wasn’t a lot after both the wars, but that didn’t matter, just that they were here and safe.
"How can you tell?"
Without answering immediately, Triton scooped up a handful of wet sand and allowed it to stream slowly through his fingers.
"You always look towards them, even if you cannot see them."
Percy followed his gaze; he hadn't even realized he was doing it at this point. "They're just kids." He murmured, shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes landing on the sand pile dropping to the ground from Triton’s fingers.
"Yes." his brother’s answer was calm, almost absent-minded, as though the statement itself were enough. Percy dug the heel of his hand into his eye, letting an exhausted breath out. Sometimes he really hated how.. .non-wordy the god could be.
"I don't want to think of them that way." A wave rolled ashore, hissing softly as it retreated. Both of them watched it for a few moments, letting the silence wash over them just as gently.
"That is because you still think like a mortal."
Percy's head snapped around so quickly that the world tilted. For a brief, dizzying instant, the shoreline seemed much farther away than it should have been. He felt his body begin to shift again and forced himself to remain still.
"I am mortal." The response came out sharp and angry, despite both of them knowing it wasn’t true anymore. Mortals didn’t just shift to 20 feet tall or have the instinct to shelter something inside them.
Triton let a knowing hum out, utterly unconcerned by the fact that Percy had just become several inches taller. "You aren’t."
Percy's jaw tightened, looking away, his nose wrinkling up with a bit of disgust. "I don't want to be."
"You already are."
The words landed harder than Percy had expected. Out on the water, sunlight flashed across the waves, annoyingly peaceful compared to the storm Percy felt inside. It was like when he had first come to camp thinking he had lost his mom, how annoyed he had been at thinking camp was beautiful despite having lost his mom.
The frustrating part was that he understood the instinct, which was what made it so unsettling. If he pushed past the fear and examined the feeling carefully, he could understand precisely why the gods behaved as they did.
Mortals were fragile; demigods were constantly in danger; putting them together just made everything worse. From the perspective of an immortal being, sheltering them was only logical.
Triton had spent thousands of years protecting the oceans and everything within them. Poseidon did the same. Every other god had their domains, their kids, their subjects and… Percy simply wasn't accustomed to being one of them.
After a long silence, he slowly sat back down and pulled his knees closer to his chest. "How did you get used to it?" He mumbled, resting his forehead against his knees, trying to keep from shaking.
"You do not." Triton’s stupidly calm voice came. A gull swooped low over the water, squawking loudly in protest, or something. Percy didn’t care; he was too busy processing what his brother had said.
"What?" He frowned, hoping his tone had properly conveyed his pure disbelief at the lack of help his brother was offering.
"You learn to live with it." The answer should not have been comforting, and strangely enough, it was. Just a little.
"Your body will settle eventually. The prayers will become quieter. Your thoughts will become easier to control." Triton continued, sitting next to him. Percy leaned towards the god, soaking in the chill of the god.
"And the instincts?"
Triton's gaze returned to the noise of chatter, of the fire, of all the campers just... having fun. "The instincts are part of you now."
Percy's shoulders slumped. "Wonderful." He mutters, closing his eyes briefly before looking up to his brother. The corner of Triton's mouth twitched in the barest hint of an amused smile. Right now, everything was crashing together inside him at once. Human thoughts, divine instincts, mortal fears, immortal certainty. His mind hadn't learned the difference between them yet.
The wind shifted; salt filled the air, heavy and comforting for one brief second. Then the instincts came back with a vengeance. The force of it was so powerful that Percy had to curl his fingers into the sand. When he opened his eyes, Triton was watching him.
"Just breathe."
Percy turned toward him. "Seriously?" He hissed, narrowing his eyes at the god. Triton reached down, scooped up another handful of sand, and let the grains slip between his fingers.
"You'd be surprised how often it works."
Silence settled between them again. Percy lay back down to stare at the clouds. As much as he wanted to scoff at the advice, he took a deep breath, feeling the air flood his lungs. Crispy, salty from the fact that his brother was here and carrying a slight chill. He hated that it made him feel more relaxed.
“We could always borrow a child.”
Percy let out a slow, disbelieving breath and pushed himself up on his elbows in the sand. His body answered the movement with another unpleasant shift, stretching out for an instant before settling back into something only slightly more manageable. He grimaced and pressed a hand to his chest as if that might keep the sensation from spreading any farther.
“I’m sorry, what? No, we aren’t going to borrow a kid for me to eat.” He says, staring at his brother in complete and utter disbelief. Triton didn't look at him. Instead, he drew one finger through the wet sand beside him. Seawater crept forward at once, following the path he had traced. A moment later, the line vanished beneath the tide.
“It is not unreasonable,” Triton says, his expression not changing. He simply lifted one shoulder in the barest shrug, the motion carrying the ease of someone who had never once in his life had to worry about whether his ideas sounded strange.
Percy stared at him. He could hear the waves behind them, see the sunlight flashing against the water, feel the low, constant pressure of prayers brushing at the edges of his mind. Somewhere on the hill, a camper laughed. Another shouted back. The camp was alive with ordinary motion, and that only made the idea feel more wrong.
Triton glanced toward the cabins again. “You are agitated because you are trying to ignore a divine instinct. That does not make the instinct disappear. It only makes it sharper. It aches if left unattended long enough.”
“I can manage it.” Percy hisses out, sitting back up, glaring out at the water as it had personally offended him- which it sorta did.
“You are not managing it.”
Percy’s jaw tightened, resisting the urge to sneer. “I am standing here, aren’t I?” He demanded, looking to his brother, eyes narrowed.
Triton finally looked at him fully. “You have changed size three times since I arrived.”
Just like that, all his fight vanished, his voice dying in his throat. Percy opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Triton’s voice stayed calm, but there was an edge beneath it now that Percy was starting to recognize as the older god’s version of concern. “You are hearing prayers you do not yet know how to sort. You are fighting an urge every god in existence has felt since the beginning of time. You are trying to hold your shape together with sheer stubbornness, and all that is accomplishing is making you miserable.”
Percy dragged a hand down over his face. The skin beneath his palm felt wrong again, too warm and too taut, as if his own body was never entirely settled in one place. He hated that Triton was noticing every sign of it.
“Kidnapping a child is not going to solve that.”
Triton went still. Percy saw the exact moment the older god decided he had said something worth taking seriously.
“Kidnapping,” the older god repeated, as if tasting the word. “That is not how I would phrase it.”
“That is literally what you’re saying! Taking a kid, that’s kidnapping.” Percy says, throwing his hands up with frustration. Gods, he swore no gods followed the trends of modern-day society and the concerns of mortals.
Triton folded his arms. His gaze drifted back toward the camp, and Percy had the sudden, awful sensation that his brother was comparing options the way a mortal might compare weather. “We should take one of the smaller ones,” the god said, as if it was like taking a melon from the market.
Percy stared, his mouth dropping open. “That is so entirely worse; don’t ever say that again.”
“They would not mind.”
“How would you know?”
“Because they adored you enough to make you a god.”
Percy pushed himself to his feet. The movement made him too tall for a second, then not tall enough, and he steadied himself with a hand planted in the sand. He could feel the shape of his bones shifting underneath his skin, subtle and deeply unsettling, as if his body were trying to remember some larger form it had once known.
“I am not doing this,” he said.
Triton’s brows drew together slightly. “Doing what?”
“Whatever this is.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You are thinking about it.”
“Yes.”
“And I already hate it.”
Triton studied him for a long moment, then spoke more bluntly than before. “You are suffering.”
Percy laughed once, short and humorless. “That is one way to put it.”
“You are making yourself worse by resisting a natural instinct.”
“It is natural for you.”
“It is natural for you as well.”
Percy’s head snapped up. “No, it is not.”
Triton did not look offended. That somehow made it worse.
“You are a godling,” he said. “Not fully settled, not yet comfortable in your form, but you are not human anymore in the way you were. Your instincts are shifting. That is part of becoming.”
“I do not care what part of becoming it is. I am not kidnapping a camper.”
For the first time, Triton looked almost exasperated. “You use such dramatic language.” He said yet again. Like they hadn’t just had this conversation.
Percy threw out a hand toward the camp. “What else am I supposed to call it?”
“A brief relocation.”
Percy stared at him in open disbelief. “You really are insane.”
Triton ignored the accusation with the smooth indifference of someone far too old to be rattled by it. He stepped past Percy, brushing sand from his hands as he moved, and started walking toward the edge of the camp.
Percy’s heart lurched; he turned so fast the world tipped. “Triton.” The sea god stopped, but only long enough to glance back.
“Do not.” He hissed out, half tempted to see how much godly zing he had. Maybe he could blast Triton back into the sea. His brother looked as though he was trying to decide whether Percy was being unreasonable or simply young. In the end, he seemed to settle on both.
“You are overreacting because this is unfamiliar,” he said as if he wasn’t talking about literally snatching a child to be a godly snack- sure, the kids seemed to be fine with it, but Percy wasn’t exactly on board with the stealing part.
He splashed one bare foot into the wet sand, suddenly needing to move, needing some physical sensation that was stable and real, something grounding. “No, I am overreacting because I am not a sea god with three thousand years of experience and a weirdly casual attitude about abducting children.”
Triton’s mouth twitched, though he did not smile. “They would not think of it as abduction.”
“That is not comforting.”
“It is true.”
Percy took a step after him. Then another. “The problem is not whether they would like it. The problem is me; I don’t want to. It’s not human.”
That stopped Triton properly. The older god turned back, fully this time, and the air around him seemed to still. Even the water at the shoreline appeared quieter, reflecting the god’s mood instead of Percy’s.
He held his ground, though it took effort. The instinct inside him pulsed again, strong and sharp enough that he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from following his brother.
“I know what gods do,” he said, his voice lower now. “I know they literally swallow their kids. I know they keep them close. I know that to you, this probably sounds exactly like some normal thing I’m supposed to accept.”
Triton was silent for a moment, then, in a quieter voice than before, he said, “You say that like the instinct is shameful.”
The wind off the sea touched his face, cooling skin that had gone too hot with frustration. Somewhere in the camp, a younger demigod shouted something triumphant, followed by laughter and the crack of training weapons.
Percy’s attention turned automatically in that direction. Triton saw it happen. Of course he did; his expression softened only a little, but enough.
“There,” he said, almost quietly. “You feel it again.”
Percy swallowed hard; the rolling feeling returned hard, like a storm brewing. The urge was back, heavier now that he had acknowledged it. The simple, awful need to make sure the younger ones were all right. To gather them close. To put his body, his power, anything between them and whatever might hurt them. That he was used to, the needing them inside, not so much.
“I hate this,” He grumbles, rubbing his face. He did. Hated not being quite human anymore and not quite a god.
“I know,” Triton answers gently. It was almost touching if the god hadn’t just proposed kidnapping not five minutes ago.
He looked at Triton, and for the first time, he saw not amusement or odd divine logic, but something much more familiar: the blunt, stubborn loyalty of family.
Triton gestured back toward the camp. “You think of the children and your instincts pull hard because you want to protect them. That is not wrong. What is wrong is forcing that instinct down until it becomes pain.”
Percy looked down at his hands. They were steady for the moment, but he no longer trusted them. “That still doesn’t mean I want to snatch one of the campers and-”
“Then do not snatch,” Triton cut in, stopping his thoughts instantly. Percy looked up, eyes wide at the interruption. Triton sighed, as though this part ought to have been obvious.
“Ask.”
Percy blinked. “Ask?”
“Yes.”
Percy stared at him as if he had begun speaking another language. “You want me to ask a kid if I can eat them like an afternoon snack?” He asked drily.
His brother ignored that. “Ask one of the younger ones if they’d like a nap, or if you can hold them inside.”
“And if I say no?” He asked, crossing his arms in pure discontentment.
Triton turned fully toward him, and for a brief moment Percy had the unsettling sense of standing in front of something ancient enough to outlast mountains.
“Then I will go ask for you.”
Percy’s eyes widened in alarm. “Absolutely not.”
Triton was already moving.
Percy swore under his breath and started after him at once, his body reacting badly to the sudden surge of emotion. He grew half a foot taller, then another inch, then shrank again so quickly that his stomach seemed to drop through the sand. He staggered once, caught himself, and hurried forward with all the speed he could manage.
“Triton,” he hissed, catching up just enough to grab at his sleeve. “Don’t you dare.”
The sea god glanced down at Percy’s hand, then at Percy himself. “You are gripping me quite hard for someone who claims not to be upset.”
Percy released him at once. “I am very upset.”
“Yes, I gathered.”
“You are not going to wander into Camp Half-Blood and drag some kid off because you think it will fix me.”
“I am not dragging.”
Percy stared with a scoff. Triton’s expression remained maddeningly calm. “I am not cruel.”
“The concern is that you think this is normal.” He snapped, hesitantly releasing his grip before it got too tight.
“It is normal.”
“It is not normal for me!”
Triton’s gaze held his for another long second. Then he said, in a tone that managed to be both patient and immovable, “That is because you are still learning how to be a god.”
Percy had no answer to that. He hated that he had no answer or retort or even a sarcastic comment. Ahead of them, the camp spread out in sunlit order, all cabins and trails and familiar voices. The world felt dangerously small suddenly, as though it had nowhere to hide from what he was becoming.
And Triton, infuriatingly, was still walking toward it as though he had every right in the world. Percy followed because he could not seem to do anything else.
"Triton."
The sea god did not slow down.
"Triton."
Still nothing.
Percy lengthened his stride, only to discover that his legs had become considerably longer than they had been a moment earlier. He stumbled, shrank abruptly, caught himself, and nearly walked straight into Triton's shoulder.
"Triton!"
This time, at least, the older god glanced down at him, then up when Percy shot up suddenly in height. Before either of them could speak, though, a few older campers had noticed them, then straightened respectfully at the sight of the sea god.
The younger ones reacted very differently.
"Percy!" Several of them waved enthusiastically. One little boy from the Hermes cabin abandoned whatever training he was supposed to be in and sprinted over before skidding to a stop a few feet away.
"Hi, Percy!"
Percy managed a weak smile despite everything.
"Hey, Evan."
Before he could say anything else, Triton calmly stepped around him.
The sea god surveyed the gathering children with the same thoughtful expression someone might wear while choosing which blanket to fetch on a cold evening. Then, without a word, Triton crouched.
One of the younger campers, a tiny girl from the Demeter cabin with dirt on her knees and leaves tangled through her braid, looked up at him with enormous eyes. She couldn't have been older than seven.
"...Hello?" She blinked, looking up at the God, confused. Hannah, Percy’s brain dimly noted. The kid who sacrificed strawberries and had wanted a slumber party.
"You will do."
Before Percy could even process those three words, Triton gently caught the back of the girl's camp shirt and lifted, like she was some wayward kitten to collect. The girl let out a tiny squeak of surprise, legs swinging lazily beneath her.
"Triton!" Percy hissed out; unlike his brother, he looked horrified.
The minor sea god turned back around as though nothing whatsoever was unusual. The Hannah dangled comfortably from his hand, twisting enough to look between the two brothers. Triton held her out toward Percy.
"This one."
Percy's mouth fell open. "What do you mean, 'this one'?" The campers glanced at each other, not daring to say a word as they slowly went back to practicing sword stances. Still, an Apollo camper nudged his friend, and a pair of Athena kids had stopped halfway through whatever discussion they'd been having.
Percy buried his face in one hand.
"Oh gods..."
"I am present," Triton observed.
"That was not an invitation."
Hannah giggled, swinging her legs as she dangled from Triton’s grip. He finally lowered her until her feet touched the ground again but kept a light hold on the back of her shirt so she wouldn't wander off before the conversation was finished. She didn't seem bothered in the slightest; if anything, she appeared eager and curious.
“What's happening?” She asked, looking between the two, trying to figure out why two gods were chatting above her.
“Percy needs to hold someone inside,” Triton said simply. Percy’s face twisted with betrayal while the girl's entire face exploded into delighted excitement. She bounced in place so enthusiastically that Triton finally let go of her shirt, and she immediately hurried the last few steps toward Percy, looking up at him with absolute wonder.
“I don’t need it. Stop telling people that.” Percy hisses out between clenched teeth, glaring at his brother.
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I-” Hannah, apparently deciding that the adults were incapable of having a sensible conversation, reached forward and tugged gently on Percy's sleeve. He looked down automatically, the refusal dying in his throat. The hollow ache inside him shifted again, making him wince.
“Pleeaaaaseee I’ll be really really good.” She asked, looking at him with so much excitement he wasn’t sure if it was the instinct making him feel hollow or her.
“I…okay. Okay, but… not here.” Percy relents. He couldn’t say no to her, not when she viewed this whole being a god’s snack in a weird positive light.
Percy felt every one of those eyes like pressure against his skin.
It was bad enough being watched while he nearly folded in on himself. Being watched while he tried to figure out how to be some kind of divine shelter for a child was worse. He could feel his body reacting to the attention, the beginnings of another size shift prickling at his shoulders and spine.
“Yay! Tummy time tummy time!” Hannah cheered, taking hold of one of Percy’s hands, and man, did that freeze the size shift instantly. One crisis avoided.
“Hey, easy, there’s no need to announce it to the whole camp, Hannah.” He grumbles fondly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before starting towards his cabin. Away from prying eyes, because while the other gods seemingly had no shame when it came to swallowing literal people, he did. Triton fell in step behind him soundlessly, an amused smirk dancing on his stupid, smug face.
The girl trotted at his side with quick, determined steps. She kept glancing up at him, then at Triton, then forward again, as if checking that they were all still doing what they were supposed to do. Percy wished he could borrow that eagerness, or at least the acting like this was normal.
Cabin Three loomed ahead; all the rough sea stone and the sight of corals as well as shells embedded in the walls brought a sort of comfort. Percy had always liked it there, even if he had never entirely gotten used to the feeling that the building itself seemed to recognize him.
He opened the door and stepped inside, guiding the demigod inside. She seemed more than delighted at being in another God’s cabin, which was fair, nromally this was very not allowed, but hey, he was technically a god now, right? He could make his own rules.
The air changed immediately. Cooler. Quieter. The smell of salt, old wood, and sea wind wrapped around him in a way that made his shoulders ache with relief. The fixed water fountain trickled in a way that reminded him of a massage parlor.
“Wooow it’s like! Like being at the ocean! Pretty.” Hannah giggles, looking around. She didn’t move from his side, however, gripping his hand as she trusted him, which she did, but the fact made his stomach twist with guilt. She trusted him, and here he was about to literally swallow her.
It was like trying to hold back a tide with his bare hands.
“You are still resisting,” Triton noticed the way Percy’s shoulders tightened. Of course he did.
Percy let out a slow breath through his nose. “I noticed.” He grumbled, looking away. It wasn’t like this was easy for him. He had maybe a month or two with this whole thing. HE had just gotten used to the idea that this was normal to gods, and now he was doing it himself.
“It will hurt more if you continue.” The older god comments, crossing his arms after closing the door. The sound almost made it final. He wished Annabeth was here, or Nico- at this point, he would even take Leo.
“That sentence is not making me feel better.” He mutters, moving to the bed, Hannah still happily gripping his hand as he sat on the edge of the bunk. He was careful and rigid, as if he were afraid the wrong movement would start the whole impossible process without his permission. The wood creaked beneath him. He felt too large for the room and not large enough for the power moving under his skin. His pulse pounded in his ears, and somewhere behind that he could still hear the prayers he had not asked for.
The girl scooted a little closer, then stopped and glanced at him for permission. Percy gave a tiny nod, then helped her onto the bed next to him. She settled beside him instantly, not letting go of his hand once.
Triton remained standing, watching with the stone coldness of a statue carved out of marble and the composure of a brother who refused to admit he was worried. “Now,” he said, “do not analyze it. Do not fight it, just... do it.”
“Not encouraging there, Tri,” Percy mutters under his breath, rapidly becoming aware that the ache inside him had changed. It was still there, but it no longer felt sharp. Instead, it felt anticipatory, like his body knew he was no longer actively fighting. “I don’t even know where to begin.” He says, letting go of her hand with a grimace.
"The easier solution is to reduce her size."
Percy stared at him. "You say that as though I know how to do that." He could barely control his own size, let alone someone else's.
Triton gave him what looked like a smile, moving forward like they were simply discussing what flowers to go in the vase. “It’s simple, just... focus. Not on yourself but her, and how small she needs to be.” Focus. "
The little girl slid from the bunk and landed lightly on the floor and spread her arms as if she was preparing. “Itty bitty!” she cheered, a small smile tugging at Percy’s lips at the declaration.
"How small?" He asked, glancing to his brother. He never understood how exactly large a god could tuck someone away; it was like math of sorts, and he was not prepared.
Triton considered the question, his fingers tapping against his own arm as he evaluated the girl. "About the length of your hand should suffice." He said after a moment.
She gasped, clapping her hands in delight, like being shrunk was something exciting and not mildly terrifying. "That's tiny!" She giggled, her eyes wide with that childish wonder that always made Percy’s heart clench.
“Okay, alright- focus on her. I can do that.” He said, closing his eyes. The sensation spread through him like warm water, flowing into parts of himself that still felt unfamiliar. His awareness sharpened; the waves striking the shore outside became more audible. He could feel the cabin around him, the voices and chattering of other campers, and he could feel the little girl standing in front of him.
Her steady heartbeat, the warmth of her skin, and the absolute certainty that she trusted him. Percy nearly recoiled at how intense it was, his eyes flying open with a sharp inhale of breath.
“Focus on that feeling, and breathe. See her as smaller- there.” Triton instructed, his tone as soft as a gentle tide coming in to smooth sand. Percy swallowed hard as the sensation washed outwards, and slowly Hannah started to look smaller, and smaller and smaller. Until both gods were looking down at an impossibly small demigod.
The worst part was Hannah was delighted, spinning in a small circle before positively beaming up at Percy, grabbing up at him. “Up! Up!” She squealed in delight. Percy let out a nervous laugh, slowly leaning down, resting his hand next to her. She wasted no time in practically flopping into his palm. Smaller than his hand, like a pebble in his hand.
“A little smaller than I suggested, but it may be for the best.” Triton hummed, smiling as Percy slowly straightened up, bringing his hand to his chest, Hannah sitting on the edge of his palm, small hands grasping at a finger to balance a bit better.
“Hey, this is my first time doing this- and given I can barely control myself, this is... is better.” He snapped, before grimacing and softening his tone, not wanting to frighten the girl securely settled in his hand.
Percy hated this part.
He sat rigidly on the edge of the bunk while Hannah remained comfortably settled in his hand, swinging her legs back and forth as though she hadn't just agreed to participate in being a godly snack.
The cabin was quiet around them.
Outside, waves rolled steadily against the shore, and every so often the distant sounds of the camp drifted through the windows: the clash of celestial bronze weapons, bursts of laughter, the occasional shouted argument. Normally, Percy found the sounds comforting.
At the moment, they only made him more aware of what he was doing, or what he was about to do.
The hollow ache inside him pulsed again. It wasn't painful anymore; the sharp edges of it had dulled ever since Hannah had agreed to help. But the sensation was still there, lingering beneath his skin like a receding tide.
Most of all, though, he hated that Triton was standing only a few feet away.
“Can you just like..leave or something?” He grumbles, cupping his hand more, so Hannah was shifted to the center of his palm instead of dangling perilously. She let a whine of protest out, but just shifted to sitting cross-legged in the middle of his palm.
“This situation troubles you," Triton asks flatly, raising an eyebrow. Like this wasn’t one of the weirdest things. For Percy, it was; mortals didn’t just shrink people and then decide “Oh my stomach is surely the safest place for a kid.”
The resounding laughter from several gods echoed around in his mind, and judging by the fact that Triton’s lips quirked upwards, he had heard it too. Great. Broadcasting yet again. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked away.
"Because it's embarrassing." He says out loud, his fingers curling more around Hannah unconsciously, brushing lightly against her back. A weird grounding reminded him he had a literal tiny child in his hand.
“Why?”
"Fine. It feels strange, all right? It feels wrong." He gestured helplessly toward Hannah with his free hand. "I know it's safe. I know nobody's getting hurt. Annabeth has done this. Nico has done this. Jason has done this. Pretty much everybody I know has, at one point or another."
Triton stayed silent for a bit before letting an amused chuckle out. “And yet none of them, I assumed, thought of it as odd. Neither does the girl.” He pointed out, and annoyingly enough, the older god was right. Hannah seemed delighted, not weirded out.
The ache within him shifted again.
It had become less like pain and more like pressure, gentle but persistent. Every time he looked at Hannah, the sensation strengthened. Every time he looked away, it sharpened.
“Alright.. Fine. Fine, both of you are peer pressuring me.” He says, exasperated. He lets a small breath out before slowly lifting his hand with the girl cradled in his palm up to his face, to his mouth.
It felt so strange. A feeling he never got used to, bringing a person to his face. Yet Hannah let a delighted noise out, leaning forward and pressing her hands against his lips in anticipation. “Come on, come on! Faster!” She cheers.
“Well now, can’t keep the little one waiting now, can you, brother?” Triton huffs in amusement. Percy shoots his godly brother a glare, not wanting to accidentally dislodge the girl.
He opened his mouth slowly, after using a fingertip to nudge Hannah’s impossibly tiny hands off of his lips. He didn’t even need to tilt his hand; the moment his lips had parted, she was climbing in on her own, making a determined grunt as she stood on her tippy toes, and gripping the front of his teeth to haul herself upwards. For a moment Percy was frozen before moving, lifting his hand higher to help her.
“I had it! But- um, thank you!” the young demigod huffs, seeming annoyed he had the audacity to assume she couldn’t do it herself. With the new night advantage, she climbed in fully, stretching out on his tongue like a lazy cat in the sun.
Percy felt the faintest weight settle onto his tongue, so incredibly light. Barely more than the heft of an orange slice. He curled his tongue gently, creating a stable surface to keep Hannah balanced, keeping his jaw parted open slightly so there was no possibility of the kid brushing against his teeth. Not that they were sharp anyway, but he would rather not have that be an incident.
Everyone had a sort of flavor, not a taste; Percy refused to call it that. It was closer to an impression, like an identity. Always unique to that person. IT was sorta like the same way the sea had a flavor that was different from rain, or the way a summer storm felt different from a winter wave. Hannah's was bright and green, like crushed leaves and warm earth after rainfall.
“It’s chilly! Like the ocean!” Hannah called out suddenly, jolting Percy from his thoughts. Oh right- he probably should try to warm up? He wasn’t even sure how he could do that. Right now all he could focus on was how small she was. Percy drew one slow breath through his nose, careful to keep the airflow gentle. Even that required thought now. Manual breathing that he didn’t even need.
He curled his tongue more, making sure Hannah was safely cradled in the middle of his mouth before slowly closing his mouth. He was not about to deal with accidental biting, thank you. Immediately, a squeal echoed in his mouth, and he nearly spit her out in panic.
“It’s all glowly! So pretty!”
If Percy wasn’t particularly immortal now, he swore he would have had a heart attack, his hands still hovering just outside his mouth, shaking now.
Beneath the rush of his own panic, he could hear a bubbling, delighted sort of happiness drift through the strange new awareness that had settled somewhere beneath his ribs. It was accompanied by a sensation of warmth spreading outward in slow, gentle waves. Because apparently feeling emotions was a thing now. Great.
Percy slowly lowered his hands, though every instinct he possessed was still insisting that this entire situation was a terrible idea.
Triton, naturally, was no help whatsoever. "You look as though you've been handed a live explosive," the elder god observed.
Percy shot him another glare, eyes narrowed as he tried desperately not to focus on how Hannah was moving. Each impossibly light movement against the surface of his tongue. It was strange. Gods noticed things differently from mortals. Before his ascension, he doubted he would have been aware of anything so tiny. Now he could tell precisely where she was without even thinking about it.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was thinking about it, constantly. His entire awareness seemed fixed on the tiny demigod currently sprawled out in his mouth as though she were just lying on the shore.
The darkness behind his lips wasn't entirely dark. Blue light shimmered through the space, rippling softly along the inside of the space. He only knew because Annabeth had shown him a picture once. The light shifted with every breath he took, forming delicate patterns that reminded him of sunlight shining through water.
Hannah apparently had been fascinated just like Annabeth, letting out a tiny "Whoa."
He suddenly understood why the Olympians could be so absurdly overprotective when it came ot this. It was…indescribable.
Gods didn't have to worry about things like breathing, swallowing, or discomfort. Their bodies simply obeyed their intentions, and frankly they didn’t need to. The problem was that Percy was currently very, very aware of all three.
And painfully aware that his brother was watching him by the door. That part made his skin crawl with embarrassment. “I feel like I’m being graded.”
“I am merely observing, not judging,” Triton answered, which meant he had yet again broadcast his thoughts. HE really needed to get that under control. Percy turned his head, as if he could hide waht he was doing from his brother.
He shifted his tongue almost imperceptibly, not pushing Hannah, sorta like directing a leaf toward a slow-moving current instead of forcing it downstream. He couldn’t believe he had kidnapped a child with his brother and was now swallowing her.
The little demigod seemed to understand immediately. "Oh!"She carefully scooted where he was indicating; he could practically hear her excitement, and could feel her eager wriggling.
"Like this?"
He let a soft hum out, the corners of his lips quirking upwards when she squealed at the sensation of the vibrations. He could feel every shifting no matter how small, and his entire awareness immediately followed the movement. It was absurd. The gods were capable of dividing their attention a thousand different ways, but Percy couldn't focus on anything except the little girl currently standing in the middle of his tongue.
Percy carefully lifted his tongue, guiding her toward the shimmering light. Every movement was deliberate. Every breath was measured. He drew a slow breath through his nose, then, with painstaking care, he allowed the reflex to happen.
It was the gentlest swallow imaginable. Well, if a swallow could be gentle, gods had control over weird things. He felt tiny feet hit the back of his throat and slide in with no resistance. His hand lifted to his throat, hovering just barely there as she traveled down. The awareness of feeling someone trusting so much they were willing to be swallowed and held hit him like a tidal wave.
Then it was over, a slight pressure and a guided slide into what used to be just a stomach but now apparently functioned as a weird internal pouch.
He sat there on the bed, just taking in the fact he had done this. That he was sitting here in his own cabin with a kid safely stored inside him.
"Percy?"
"Hm?"
"It's even prettier in here."
His smile came without thinking, his hand ghosting over his middle before decisively settling there. "I'm glad." He practically whispered, closing his eyes and leaning against the post of the bunk bed.
“I am assuming you feel much better now, don’t you, brother?” Trition prompted, that stupid princely smug smile on his face.
Percy opened his mouth to argue, and froze, because Hannah had just shifted. The movement was so slight that no mortal would ever have noticed it. She had merely rolled onto one side, but now with stupid divinity running through him he could even notice her breathing if he thought about it.
“What? Too focused for insults, hmm?” His brother continued, stepping forward from his post at the front of the door, Percy feeling a tad annoyed that the god’s presence just soothed him a bit.
"I keep losing my train of thought."
"Because you're worried."
“No, because I can feel everything she does; of course I’m worried!" He grits out, gritting his teeth. He was seriously doubting ever bonding with his half-brother now.
"You'll grow accustomed to it." That was something Percy would rather die than do, frankly. He wanted to retain some semblance of mortal normalcy.
"I don't want to grow accustomed to it." He mumbles grumpily, pausing when he felt the tiny form inside him snuggle closer to the stomach walls.
For the first time all day, Percy realized that the pressure beneath his skin had gone quiet. His shoulders had loosened. The constant instinctive urge to grow larger or smaller had faded into the background.
Even the prayers seemed more distant.
He hated that it had worked. That Triton's suggestion had actually made sense. He rubbed his face tiredly, looking down at himself, at the fact he couldn’t even tell he had a little demigod tucked inside.
“Just a short nap, alright Hannah?” He finally murmured, closing his eyes. She still had training to do after all.
“Awwww..okay. But a slumber party tonight too?” He would never get used to hearing a voice that was inside him.
He leans his head against the cool wood of the bunk bed, closing his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. ”We’ll see.”
Hannah had curled up, the stomach walls shifting until she was perfectly supported. He could feel her heartbeat slowing as sleep began to creep up on her. Every tiny breath reached him through that strange connection, not loud or distracting anymore, simply... there.
The hollow ache that had followed him for weeks was gone. He hadn't realized how exhausting it had been until its absence left him almost dizzy.
"Well?" Triton asked quietly.
Percy didn't answer right away. He rested a hand over his middle; there was nothing to feel physically. No weight. No bulge. If he hadn't known Hannah was there, no one looking at him would ever have guessed.
And yet he knew exactly where she was.
"...I still think it's weird," Percy admitted.
Triton's smile was almost imperceptible. "I never expected otherwise." He murmured slyly, like he had expected the answer.
"I mean it. This is probably the weirdest thing I've ever done." Percy let out a tired laugh, then sighed.
Silence settled over the cabin again.
Outside, Camp Half-Blood carried on as it always had. Swords clashed in the arena. Someone yelled victoriously. A conch shell sounded from the beach.
Life continued, and Percy listened to it all, but for the first time since the start of his stupid ascension, it wasn't overwhelming and somehow... Instead of making him feel less human, it reminded him exactly how he had become a god in the first place. Dozens of demigod children from both camps making sacrifices, offerings, prayers to him. To keep them safe.
That part of him had never changed at all, just had a new, weirdly close spot to keep people safe. And that..was strangely alright with him.
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I BREATHE for your pred percy (he’s such a sweetheart ilyhsm) By any chance do you have any doodles…… ^^
AW im glad you enjoy the way I write him!! Im always so thrilled for a pred who would literally rather chew their own hand off than be a pred, but theyre so good at it regardless
Such as this wip that's been sitting in my Google drive for... oh shit 3 years-
Baby Stark Do do(Part 1)
Tony had a strange feeling about the meeting he was invited to hosted I Japan but pushed it aside after Pepper forced him to go despite his conplaints. He had been before with the same people and still shuddered at the memory of eating live octopus but relations were important and they were a large client of their easy to use products.
“Shake it off, nothing bad is going to happen.” He grumbles to himself as he fixed his sleeves. He had to admit he felt incredibly guilty about the idea of eating the poor thing alive which meant he would try everything he could to not condemn an innocent sea life to an unnaturally cruel death.
>Ah Stark! It is nice to see you again, come come.< His host greets excitedly leading him to the table. Tony mentally groaning when he saw the dishes with squirming tentacles. His was different though, a cup rather than a fish, decorated designs on it.
>I have to say I wasnt expecting octopus again.< He says calmly as he takes his seat, the other members taking their seats infront of the dishes. Much to his relief they weren't living anymore, maybe his wasn't either.
>We got you something special, it isn't exactly octopus.< the host says plucking his own octopus up with chop sticks. Tony riases a brow at that and popped his lid off of the cup his heart nearly stopping when a tiny and terrified face peered back at him. There was no way he was leaving without saving this kid..even if it was risky and going to be utterly terrifying for the kid and they would probably eat him if he didnt. If he drank enough water there shouldn't be any ill effects.
Peter wasnt sure what was happening after he had been caught by weird and large land creatures but they stashed him away with other sea creatures that had tentacles like him. He got a pretty good idea of what was going to happen to him when a few of the staff members proceed to kill the friends he had made. He tried to stay away but they put him in a cup and sealed it. He didn't understand why they wanted to eat him! They looked like him just..odder
“Please please no! Please.” He tries begging when his prison was opened, trying to climb out, two wood sticks stopped him however, the rude land creature who trapped him with said sticks saying something in the language he didnt understand before lifting him up. He knew that English was a land creatures tongue but that's not what they were speaking!
He whimpers trying to grasp tightly onto the wood as the air form the land creatures mouth hits him. It was strange at how upset the creature looked. He stared back at the creature refusing to let go of the wood. He didnt want to be chewed up like the other friends he had made, or chopped up.
“Please let me go.” He whimpers. He flinches at the sigh of teeth hating he didnt even get an answer. The other land creatures laugh at him making all his hope of being saved disapate. He clings onto the wood as he was lowered down, the heat making him shudder in utter fear. He didnt want to die, he didnt want to be chewed up!
“P-please I dont wanna die.” Peter almost sobs at this point. He squeezes his eyes shut clinging desperately onto the wood as he felt the warmth incase him. It didnt matter apparently because soon enough the land creatures tongue pushed him off, the wood disappearing instantly.
It was warm and slick in the land creature's mouth and he found himself waiting for the next move. He yelps at the awkward swallow surprised he wasnt taken down with it. That was cruel the land creature was toying with him. He sniffles and rubs his face grimacing when it just left a slick trial of saliva. He was surprised when the mouth opened again, cool water rushing into him and dragging him down with ease.
Tony felt awful for the small thing he really did, even more so at the poor things begging and pleading. As long as he kept drinking water the kid would be fine, probably freaked out by fine. He squares his shoulders as he takes a large gulp of his water feeling something cold and wiggly slip into his throat. It wasnt a pleasant experience, even more so when he felt the small thing squeeze into his stomach. God he could practically feel every movement. He quickly finished his glass, asking for another. Might as well make the kids stay as pleasant as possible.
He sighs shakily, resting a hand subtly over his middle lightly rubbing where the squirming mass was. He could do this.. surely the meeting wouldn't last very long.
It was a long meeting with the kid squirming around in his stomach but after 20 minutes the kid seemed to get he was alright. Tony was quick to duck into the hallway the second the meeting ended, pressing the area he felt the small weight settled in. He winces when a startled but muffled yelp sounded out.
"Woah there kiddo, how you doing in there?” He asks quietly as he heads down the hall. He felt ridiculously full with all the water he had drunken that meal but Hey the kid was alive. He could feel the small things tentacles wriggling around.
“P-please can I come out?”
This kid was going to tear his heart apart he swore. He glances around as he heads to his jet, relaxing now that he was alone. “Of course, just give me a second.” He murmurs softly heading to the bathroom.
He frowns and starts filling the sink up with warm water, the kid squirming around anxiously as if he was going to be digested any second. Considering where he was Tony didnt blame him, his stomach letting a gurgle of protest out as the water sloshed at the movements.
“Alright kid brace yourself.” He says grimacing. He takes a deep breath before sticking a finger down his throat gagging heavily a few times before water started trickling out. He grunts slightly and sticks his finger down further gaging loudly before he felt something slip back his throat and plop into his hand. He let's a shaky breath out quickly dipping the small thing into the awaiting water.
He grimaces and wipes his mouth relived the kid seemed alright, nervous and looking around but alright.
Peter almost missed the soft walls and darkness of the area but he was grateful to be out. “So...it’s nice to eat you and everything, I’m Tony Stark.”
Gasp I actually continued something unpormpted??? Thanks @wackysideblog for basically giving me all the material for a part two lol. I appreciate you!!!
“Rhodey I’m going to need you to buy a fish tank, like a huge one.” Tony says the second he heard his friend pick up the phone. He can’t help the smile that dances on his face when he sees Peter’s face peering up from the sink. It has been a weird talk, reassuring the boy he had been safe and that he hadn’t exactly wanted to put the kid in his stomach.
“A... fish tank? Tones why did you buy fish, I thought this was a merger meeting or some shit?” Rhodey replies slowly, thought the genius could hear him grab his car keys. Good. “It’s ah...a long story honey bear, all I know is that I need a fish tank, all the good stuff too, sand? Sand, right?” Once he gets a shy nod from the boy he continues, “Plants, those weird little fish houses, the nine yards.”
“Do I even want to know?” Came the exhausted sigh from his friend. “Probably not, love you honey bear I’ll see you when I land.” He grins exaggeratedly blowing kisses before hanging up. He turns his attention to the small thing in the sink clasping his hands together. “Alright good news, you have a tank now so no bowls and cups.”
He pulled up the stool he had stolen from the other plane section taking a seat. The boy really was something to marvel at. He never really thought mermaids would exist then again Peter wasn’t exactly that. Tentacles kept moving, the boy grasping lightly onto one obviously using it as a comfort. He didn’t blame the kid, it had to be hard with everything that had happened.
He didn’t exactly get a response, just a small chittering that obviously meant something to Peter. So, he clasps his hands together putting what he hoped was a comforting smile on. “If you’re all cozy here then I guess I’ll just ah- go in the other room and let you chill here.” He stands grabbing the stool. He should’ve guessed that the small thing would be nervous around him. Peter had literally been inside of him not even an hour ago.
“No! no please- “the boy whimpers, which chittering noise following his words. He glances back his heart melting when he saw small hands reaching out and up to him, tentacles withering in distress. “Woah, woah easy there buddy I’ll stay.” He scoots the stool closer instead, offering a hand to the small thing.
A weird sensation washes over him as cool tentacles grasp as his fingers, wrapping around them as the kid nuzzled closer to him, letting a shaky sigh out. Who knew octopus hybrids were touchy feely. “See? I’m here kiddo and I’m on your side.” He soothes as he runs a finger down the boy’s back. A quiet content hum comes from the boy, so he continues the motion.
“I know this whole thing hasn’t been fun for you, but on the bright side you were warm.”
A small giggle draws from Peter, Tony chuckling with him. That was good then, playful banter and such. “And wiggly, very very wiggly. It was the weirdest noodles I’ve ever had.” He teases, lightly poking the boy’s side. More giggling came from the small thing, the grip tightening on his fingers.
“You’re really something else kid. Very brave that’s for sure, thank you for not wrecking complete havoc on my insides.”
“Y-you were just keeping me safe from those bad men.” Peter speaks. Tony couldn’t help but be in awe of that, how could he not be? Sure, super humans and such existed bit the fact that a very small hybrid child did was extraordinary. “I was, but still, you didn’t know that did you? You just thought I was being a dick.” He points out, stroking the boys back again.
Peter shrugs, small hands gripping onto a finger along with the soft blue tentacles. “It wasn’t that but...it um...it was warm and soft. Just a little scary cause I really didn’t wanna die.” Oh man. This kid was going to destroy him, wasn’t he?
He uses his only free finger to gently tilt the boy’s head up. “Peter, kid, I never would’ve done that if I knew it wasn’t safe. The whole point was to get you out safely, I was in control the whole time.” The soft brown eyes widen slightly before they scrunch up, tears pooling up in them. His heart squeezed at the look he was getting, his fingers curling more around the boy protectively.
“Easy there kiddo, it’s alright. You’re alright.” After a second he lifts the boy up, bring the small body to his chest. Sure, ruining a 5,000-dollar suit wasn’t great but the way tiny hands clutches onto the fabric as the small thing started sobbing trumped that. “You’re safe with me, I promise. Inside and out as unbelievable as it sounds.”
More whimpering sobs, tentacles gripping onto the fabric rather than his hand at his point. “I’ve gotcha, no more scary things.” He promises softly. The next hours were soothing Peter, occasionally dunking the boy to keep him from drying out as he slept. He had only tried setting the boy down once and it hadn’t really gone well so he just gave up letting the small thing rest.
When they were about ten minutes out, he called Rhodey again realizing he didn’t exactly have anything to put the boy in to get him to the tank. “Hey honey bear, update on the tank?” He asks, stroking peter’s back as the boy slept. “Tony, you told me to get, and I quote, ‘like a huge one’ so it’s barely even filled.”
Tony curses under his breath looking down at the little troublemaker himself. HE guessed he could have Rhodey grab a bowl or something while they waited. “Right right, shit...ah I’ll improvised, but we should be coming in around...well I mean like 30 minutes at this point.” He says with a small sigh. He’d wake peter up to let him get mentally prepared to meet another human.
“Alright, I’ll see you then, but you totally owe me an explanation.”
“Honey bear I never said I wasn’t going to give you one- but seriously I’ll tell you everything when I land.” They exchange their goodbyes before Tony hangs up, lightly nudging the boy’s side. “Peter, Peeete, come on kiddo we have a slight problem.”
He chuckles when all he gets is a whine, the grip tightening on his suit. “You can go back to sleep once we get this taken care of how about that?” it was a little bargain at least. He needed to figure out how to get Peter in the tower without A. being seen, and B. without drying out. Annoyed chittering was the response, a blearily looking face peering up at him.
“Yes, I know so mean, but we have a slight issue here kid.” He says with a sigh, Peter perking up more at the comment. A nervous look dusting his feature. “Is..is it me? I don’t- please don’t leave me.” God this kid-
“No no, that’s not the issue kiddo, we’re about to land and I don’t ah...have anything to put you in, not only that the car ride there is a bit long and the tank isn’t full yet.” Tony explains gently as he smooths the boy’s hair back. Speaking of which- he cups his free hand in the water, brings back a handful of it before dumping it on the boy. Peter relaxes at the feeling, the tentacles wriggling about gleefully.
“That’s not really a problem! You can just swallow me again.” The boy chirps, looking up at him with one of the most trusting looks he had ever seen. Tony blinked in surprise trying to process what the boy had just said. “Ah...that requires me swallowing you again and I’m pretty sure you didn’t like that last time.”
“Just cause I didn’t know it was safe, and I didn’t know you Mr. Stark.” Peter points out, reaching his arms up, grasping at the man’s face. The amount of trust that was being put in him was astounding if he was being honest. He swallows thickly, not missing how the small thing following the trip he would take. God he wasn’t expecting Peter to enjoy it but...if he was being honest, it was the most efficient way of getting Peter to the tower.
“Alright-alright no need to be all mushy gushy I’ll be your personal taxi.” He stands with the boy in his hand heading to the kitchenette. Water was going to be needed for this for sure. The plane was landing, though he hadn’t noticed, bringing his hand above his face. Peter of course giggled at the comment, his tentacles wriggling about like they had a mind of their own. “Oh, you think that’s funny? That I have to do all the work and you get to relax all comfy cozy?” He grabs a water bottle, promptly chugging it so the kid wouldn’t have a terrible landing.
He chuckles when Peter squeals in delight, more giggles coming as he lowered the boy into his mouth, the odd feeling of cool tentacles hitting his tongue. It was great timing, as the first swallow came when Rhodey was stepping onto the jet just as he was getting ready to swallow the rest of the boy down.
“What- TONY!”
Tony gags slightly, startled as he swallowed the rest of peter down, a lump sliding down his throat and under his collar bone. HE wheezes slightly, grimacing when Rhodey practically flew across the space, hands pressed to his middle. “Spit him out, god what the hell!”
Tony grimaces at the movement, Peter sloshing around in his gut. “Ick- Rhodey, hey ah maybe don’t shake me when I’m full of water and a kid.” He manages to grit out, gagging slightly. Oh, that very much wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “You ate a kid! Spit him out. Now.” His friend demands, not stopping his shaking in the least.
“He’s fine! The acids are diluted and everything! Come one, just like stop.” When the man didn’t, he forced him down, pressing the man’s head against his gut. “Peter for the love of god say something I’m going to hurl if he doesn’t stop shaking me.”
“He’s not going to- ““Mr. Sir um human Mr. Stark’s friend! Um I’m fine I promise! It’s safe too, Mr. Stark promises and..and its really um not that bad.”
Rhodey fell silent before looking back to his friend in disbelief. “How the fuck- ““Language, he’s totally going to pick up on that and the last thing we need is for him to have a little potty mouth.”
“You have a kid in your stomach I’m allowed at least one fuck.” Rhodey shoots back with a frown, pulling away from the man’s middle. Tony sighs in relief as his stomach calms down a bit. Man being this hydrated sucked majorly. Tiny hands started pressing into the stomach lining, followed by tentacles, the rubbing somewhat soothing the upset organ. “Preciate’ that kid- and I know it’s a little messed up honey bear, but ah he’s fine and it’s the best I’ve got right now.”
His friend took a deep breath in, obviously trying to process everything that was happening which was understandable. “As long as I keep drinking water mini-Ursula here is fine.” He reassures as he pats his gut. “My name is Peter not Ursula Mr. Stark.” God he could practically hear the pout in the boy’s tone. “I know I know, it’s a nickname. We’ll watch the movie later.”
“That’s so…weird. You can hear him and everything?” Rhodey asks with- well Tony wasn’t sure what that expression was but it was certainly an expression. He nods and drums his fingers over his middle, chuckling when Peter squealed at the action. The odd feeling of tentacles pushing back quickly following. That was a feeling for sure. “Everything, and I can feel all the things too. Let me tell you suction cups on your stomach lining? Weirdest feeling ever, like I swear the butterfly expression is outdated, more like octopus in your stomach.”
The weight in his gut settled back down against, Peter letting an odd purring sound out as he got comfortable, no doubt taking a nap. Little shit.
“Wait- you said you needed to drink water with him inside?”
“Yep- hey woah I literally just drank a water bottle.” He complains as Rhodey brushes past him to grab another. His friend uncaps it before handing it to him. “Drink it anyway, he probably needs it.” Tony opened his mouth to argue before promptly shutting it at the look he was given. He accepts the bottle with a grimace, taking a sip. He stifles a smile at the small squeal coming from the boy at the cool liquid trickling into his space.
“I’m going I’m going- lets just get to the tower so I can spit him back up.”
Rhodey nods in agreement, both of them heading out of the jet to the car. Tony wincing as he moved as smoothy as possible. HE wasn’t exactly keen on sloshing the boy around, or just in general. He takes another sip of water as he eases himself into the passenger side seat. He gingerly buckles before leaning his seat back. “Is that smart?” Rhodey asks curious as he starts the car, content chittering coming from his cargo at the soft vibrations of the car. “We’ll find out just get us to the tower.”
