Short spinoff of Metal Heart, in which Flynn puts Freya somewhere real dark and damp.
She wasn't sure why, but whenever Flynn would talk about eating her, she always just assumed it was a joke. He did say it was a joke, after all. The first time. Then as they got closer, more and more talk of being kept in his mouth for "safety" came up.
Which is just ridiculous. Mouths aren't safe, and neither is the rest of the digestive tract for a living creature. There isn't enough air, it's too hot, and oh, there's the whole digestion part. That's not a fun thought. If she even survived the trip down to his stomach to witness her body being dissolved into a drop of soup.
And yet, here Freya was, suspended over Flynn's mouth by her waist. His enormous fingers pinched her in place, angling her just above his wide, pink tongue that twitched restlessly on the bottom of his jaw.
"W-wait, WAIT! I don't want to go in there!" Freya shrieked, squirming in his grip. The gigantic man did not relent. He just hesitated, the back of his tongue reeling back against his throat as he bared his teeth.
"S'alright. Hush." Flynn grumbled from the back of his throat. He stood tall over the wasteland, a path of blood smeared across the ground behind him. It was the aftermath of another battle, or rather, a slaughter. They were faced, now, with the decision to enter an enormous portal set before Flynn. A portal that would undoubtedly lead them to an entirely different dimension.
Flynn, the Slayer, was not about to take the chance of his fragile little companion getting lost during the journey. Not to mention, he had no idea what to expect on the other side of the portal. The only way he could be truly sure she was safe was to swallow her whole.
"It's not alright! You're gonna… gonna…" Freya was on the verge of tears as she was forced to look down the channel of the Slayer's tongue, his impossibly wide gullet yawning invitingly in the back of his mouth.
Flynn could feel her trembling in his fingers. He groaned. There was no easy way to go about this. He wanted to just bite the bullet, so to speak, and gulp her down like a pill. But there was no telling what would happen to her then. He was the Doom Slayer, his power immeasurable… who was to say his esophagus alone had more power than a hundred, a thousand little Freyas? She could be flattened, crushed by his swallow.
Flynn angled his fingers so they were inside his mouth, with Freya held precariously in the negative space between his tongue and his palate. He then raised his tongue up until he felt her little legs jolt against his taste-buds, and then let go.
She was placed on his slippery tongue, and immediately went for the escape route. Scrambling towards the opening of his mouth. Anything to get away from his throat.
Flynn simply closed his lips and sealed off her exit. His teeth did not touch together, for fear of her somehow ending up between them. He could feel her squirming, hear her cursing and pleading inside his mouth as he carefully rolled his tongue back, sweeping her towards his throat.
"Flynn, eek! No, no, no!" Freya was in hysterics, finding herself in his mouth for a second time. He was so damned big that she had enough room to scramble on his tongue without even scraping the roof of his mouth.
Flynn kept her on his tongue for the time being, popped his helmet back on and headed through the portal.
Immediately, he was plunged underwater. His gigantic body became weightless as he was suspended in the middle of a dark ocean, tinted a sickly green. Yeah, Freya would have been drowned if she was anywhere on the outside.
He looked around, noticing wrecks of ships in the distance, and decided to swim towards them. Not before taking a moment to secure his little passenger, first.
Flynn patted his throat, stroking downwards to relax it as he tilted his head up and prepared to swallow. He was conscious of Freya's little frame on his tongue, her feet were facing towards his throat as she wriggled in protest. He frowned. No, feet-first was bad. Dangerous. He couldn't risk her limbs bending on the way down.
With his helmet sealed around his chin, he opened his mouth slightly, just enough to give his tongue room to roll Freya around until he was sure she was facing his throat. Easy enough, that is, if she would cooperate.
"Hey! Let me out, please!" The woman shouted, scrambling on his slippery tongue towards the opening of his mouth, orienting herself in the wrong direction again. Well, wrong for him. Right for her. But she sure wasn't seeing things his way.
"Nuh. Not safe." Flynn rumbled, eyes darting around for signs of danger. He closed his mouth again, just as Freya's little arms stuck out from his lips and were trapped between them, flailing and wiggling for freedom.
Slurp. He pulled her back in his mouth with a gentle suck. Oh, the sound of her muffled whines afterwards were a guilty pleasure of his.
Flynn continued to toy with her in his mouth, moving his tongue underneath her to coax her back to his waiting gullet. She was so damn stubborn. Each time, he could feel her scramble back into the wrong position just so she could crawl towards the opening of his mouth, even though it was tightly shut.
Fine, then. If she wouldn't cooperate, then he'd just let gravity do the work for him.
"No! No no no!" Freya shrieked when her whole world was tipped backwards.
Flynn tilted his head all the way back and opened his mouth, allowing the maximum amount of room for his throat to expand. Freya's hands scrambled for purchase, anything to stop her from sliding down into the Slayer's throat!
He was simply too big for her efforts to have any effect. Down she slid, past his uvula and tonsils. Freya no longer looked forwards. She rolled onto her back as she went over the back of his tongue, eyes wide with terror as she faced the gigantic man's throat.
Flynn kept his head tilted back, even when he felt her touch the back of his throat. He gripped his neck, reminding himself not to swallow… not yet. She had to get a little further down.
"C-come on Flynn, this isn't funny anymore!" Freya choked, her limbs flailing as she was forced to go down the Slayer's gullet like a fleshy slide.
Once he felt her clear his epiglottis, the firm flap in his throat that channeled the flow of air, Flynn finally let himself swallow. GRRRLP. He strained to do so in an effort to make the process gentle as can be, though as soon as he did, Freya's descent was much faster.
She was gulped right down, her limbs forced together as his gullet closed up behind her, squeezing her down under his collarbone.
Flynn leveled his head and waited patiently for her to get all the way down. He could feel her under his ribs, almost to the entrance of his stomach. Normally, that would be the end goal… but the Slayer had something else in mind. As it was, his enhanced body was not only gigantic, but contained extra organs. One being an extra stomach.
Freya was unceremoniously dropped into the velvety chamber of Flynn's belly. She couldn't tell by sight, but by feel. The organ was much larger than his throat, and the flesh felt different. Smoother, yet full of ridges and lumps. She survived being swallowed, at least.
"I can't believe you did that… man!" Freya huffed, righting herself against one of his rugae, a fleshy fold.
Flynn couldn't hear her, but he couldn't hold back a smirk as he imagined what she was saying. He started swimming forwards just to see more of his environment, now that he wasn't distracted. Freya was certainly in for a surprise.
Just as she was about to start climbing the walls, she was taken back down to the pit of his stomach by a rolling wave of peristalsis. She cursed, but then yelped as her legs were sucked down by a force almost as strong as Flynn's swallow. It was like quicksand in the pit of a giant's stomach.
Soon, her whole body was enveloped. She was squeezed momentarily before dropping again into a large chamber nearly identical to the first. Freya laid there in a daze, then shook the slime off and resumed her climb to freedom.
Flynn paused his swimming to roll his hips a little, clenching his abs. He could feel her, alright. Nestled deep in his guts, inside the secondary chamber. There, she'd be safe from quite literally everything, not that she was ever at risk of being digested in the first place. As it was, the Slayer's enormous size came with a bigger appetite, and she would not have been safe in his first chamber if demon meat and bones were dumped on her.
The Slayer felt an immense wave of satisfaction come over from, just then. Swallowing Freya was inevitable in his line of work, but he did not anticipate it feeling so… good. Just knowing that his precious companion was safe inside him, snug as can be… oh he could get used to this.
Even Freya, plunged deep into wet, slimy darkness, hidden from the world around her, found a certain calmness come over her. She did trust Flynn completely, even though it was easy to forget that when being swallowed alive by him. But he did, and she wasn't crushed or digested yet.
Though part of her still wanted to wriggle her way back up his long gullet, she grew weary of the struggle and soon curled up in his warm belly. The occasional gurgle resounded around her, which was nerve-wracking at first. But it ended up just being… a reminder that she wasn't alone. That Flynn's body was alive around her, encompassing her.
Freya decided then to text the Slayer's communicator; "I'm O.K. by the way."
Flynn saw her message in his visor's HUD. He laughed. Of course she was okay. Meanwhile, he was too busy strangling a cosmic being with his bare hands to respond just that second.
That was fine, as Freya could feel his body straining around her, a clear indication of a struggle. Just another day with the Doom Slayer.
Once the air was clear again, she got a text back. "GOOD."
Freya scoffed, smirking as she pushed her fist as deep as it could go in Flynn's stomach lining.
Another text afterwards. "FELT THAT."
Her brows quirked. So he could feel her in his stomach, even with such a large disparity in size. That was unexpected, but unfortunately gave her too many ideas. She still had some fight left in her, somehow, and she used her leftover energy to knead the slippery lining of his stomach with both hands.
She got a text that just said "CALM DOWN."
Freya quickly typed back; "I am calm! Just playing."
Flynn read the message on his HUD and hummed to himself. She was settling in nicely. He almost wished he had swallowed her down sooner.
5.5k word fic featuring @that-prey-lounge 's lovely little Warren as a tiny octopus merfolk getting "rescued" (eaten) by "Regular Man John" (Doomguy that's a Regular Guy). Be careful with tentacles, they are sticky.
It was a typical day at the market. Outdoor stalls, many covered by awnings and tarps for shade, lined the street beside the harbor. Many of the vendors sold fish, freshly-caught just outside the harbor. The smell of fish was inescapable, sometimes insufferable, but the locals didn't seem to mind.
One of the locals did mind, in fact. He was at one of the market stalls, not as a vendor or a customer, but as a product. A tiny, expensive, living product. Warren was caught by humans earlier that morning, mixed up in a fishing net. He, like other merfolk, were sometimes captured and sold as exotic pets at local markets.
Passerby were mesmerized by him. He wasn't a typical merfolk, with his lower body being that of an octopus. Eight orange limbs stretched along the sides of a very small cup filled with seawater. He was originally displayed in a larger, glass bowl, but after enough escape attempts, the vendor had transferred him to a sealed container.
Regardless, Warren was not at all pleased with his situation. In fact, he was utterly terrified. This was something he had always dreaded to happen to him, after hearing stories about human beings capturing others of his kind. No matter how many times he tried to escape again, he was thwarted by the constant looks of passing humans.
Eyes. So many eyes on him. Yet so far, no one was willing to part with their money for him. He couldn't see the price tag, but he assumed it to be high. That did not serve to make him feel much better about himself, but… maybe he would be spared if he was left unsold by the end of the day.
The little merman had such limited space. He could hardly stretch his limbs out in the cup, let alone swim. If he dared to try and curl up and sleep, he was forced awake by the tapping of the vendor's finger on the sides of the cup.
Desperate, exhausted, and scared, Warren could only await his fate. And that was when he met eyes with one of the humans passing by.
He was big, taller than most of the other customers. Warren had never seen so many humans in one place before today, but even he could see that the man standing before him was larger than average, with a rugged, boxy jaw and short brown hair. He instinctively shrank back in the cup when their eyes met.
No… was he about to be bought by the human? No one else had looked at him with such… intensity.
The strange man stared at Warren a while longer before reaching across the vendor table and picking up the water-filled cup. His green eyes never wavered as he brought Warren right up to his face, staring him down.
Warren was frozen in place. He wanted to scream, to thrash around and escape the big man's grip. But he was stuck, trapped in that tiny cup. All he could do was plead with his eyes, his back pressed against the opposite side of the clear plastic cup.
John held the trapped merfolk up to his face. Long, sandy hair swept around the little one's head, and his honey-colored eyes were staring back at him, wide. John saw the label drawn on the white lid of the cup with permanent marker; "RARE Octopus Merfolk $800".
Well, he wasn't about to shell out that much money. Not when he could just take the little guy.
When the vendor's back was turned, John carefully unscrewed the lid. Warren's eyes widened. Wait, what was he doing? Shouldn't he be paying, first?
As soon as the lid came off, Warren's whole, tiny world was shifted- dumped from the cup into… no! The man's mouth.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Warren yelped, but he was quickly swept inside along with the saltwater.
John grimaced. Oh, it was salty. Of course it was salty! No matter. He closed his mouth and left just an inch or so of water in the cup as he screwed the lid back on and placed it on the vendor table as if nothing had happened. He walked away with a mouthful of water and one very frightened merman.
In hindsight, John wished he had had time to communicate the plan with the little guy first. He would set him free, of course, once he brought him back home and gotten him in a bigger aquarium to recuperate.
Warren was not aware of this plan, and used all of his many limbs to squirm inside John's mouth. He cursed at his rotten luck- of all the humans eyeing him up, he just had to get taken by the one that was hungry for an $800 merfolk snack!
John winced as tiny suckers gripped the inside of his mouth. He walked quicker, his boots thudding along the ground as he left the market to head back to his truck. The merman was tiny, sure, but he underestimated the grip strength of those eight little octopus legs.
Warren's oxygen was running out in the man's mouth, his thrashing only worsening it in such a cramped space, more cramped than the little cup was. But he had to try… he couldn't just let himself be swallowed.
And yet, the man swallowed.
John tilted his head back and gulped thickly, his throat pulling Warren down headfirst along with the salty water. His soft, slippery body made it easy, and he felt the little guy go down his throat. Good. John needed to get him inside his stomach for the ride home.
Except, he didn't make it down to his stomach. John coughed, wincing as he touched his throat. Oh god. The little octopus merman had a grip on his esophagus.
Warren felt himself get sucked down the man's throat. He screamed, then spread his arms out, using his eight legs to grip on anything they could. He felt himself halt in the human's gullet, no longer going down but… certainly not going up either. He was very much stuck in a giant throat, while all of the water he was suspended in was swallowed. That was not good for him, but… neither was being eaten alive. So Warren clung for life inside a giant man's esophagus.
John did not anticipate having such troubles with the little guy. He was tiny, almost entirely boneless! How did he mess this up? He took measured breaths and gulped in-between them, grunting with the effort of dislodging the sticky tentacles. Despite his large size and thick, muscular neck, Warren remained very much stuck inside of it.
Water. He needed water, a lot of it, to swallow him down. John jogged, now, his face full of worry as he hauled ass to his truck. Oh, the faster pace was not helping. He could feel the merman jostling in his throat, forcing an overwhelming need to gag. So John continued to swallow, despite getting the merman nowhere further down. At this point it was merely to stave off his gag reflex.
Warren was also panicking. He had been, but now even more so… trapped in an endless wave of swallowing that just squished him tighter in the man's gullet. What would happen if the human ended up choking on him? He couldn't bear the thought of being stuck in the big guy's throat or windpipe if he were to pass out.
"Let me out, please! I-I'm sorry!" He shouted, desperate to not go down, but with all of his efforts of sticking to his throat, he wasn't going up either.
John heard his pleas, hardly registering them as he reached his truck and dug out a bottle of water. He was aware that the merman was frightened and confused, but he couldn't just talk back to him. Not when he was lodged in his throat and couldn't see his signing. So, he tipped back the bottle and gulped.
Warren was washed over with cool, fresh water. It would have been refreshing in literally any other circumstance, but at that moment, he felt his suckers start to release. Oh no.
John groaned in relief as he continued drinking. The cool water soothed his throat and started to unstick the tentacles. He gulped several more times until… there he went.
Warren was swallowed down whole. His suckers relented under the pressure of water around him, and he was taken down, down, down the man's throat.
John sighed hard. That was rough, he thought. He felt the merman go down all the way into his stomach, where the rest of the water ended up. It was only slightly more roomy than the cup. John finished the rest of the water and hopped in his truck, one hand on his belly as he drove. Tiny little squirms fluttered against his stomach lining, letting him know that the merfolk still had plenty of strength left for the trip home.
"Hmmh." John muttered softly, patting his thick gut in reassurance.
Warren was definitely not feeling reassured. He was dumped in John's stomach, fresh water mixed with saltwater and mucous around him, forming a horrid concoction that had to pass over Warren's gills. He swam in circles, bumping into the velvety rugae that lined the man's gut.
This was it, then. He was swallowed whole, despite putting his best efforts in. Warren whimpered softly as the human's stomach sloshed around him, baptizing him in warm liquid that made him feel numb all over. All he could do now was wait to be digested, his limbs reaching out to cling to any surface he could.
Luckily for the little merman, John had no intention of letting that happen. His home was not too far of a drive, and his stomach had enough water inside that he wouldn't asphyxiate. Surprisingly, Warren had less room in the little cup he was displayed in for sale.
John pulled into his home, a cozy beach-type house just offshore. He swung his big legs out of the truck and walked through the door with his hand on his belly.
Tiny little flutters reminded him every now and then that the little guy in his stomach was alright. He got to work filling up a 5 gallon bucket with distilled water and salt, mixing it in until it dissolved. He then dropped a bubbler inside to aerate the water as well as a heater to bring it to tropical temperature. This would suffice as a temporary container for the merman to recover in.
John was well-versed in caring for aquatic life, and his home was filled with glass aquariums of all kinds. Though none of them contained merfolk or octopuses, he was quite confident that he could care for one.
Warren, meanwhile, was confined to a cramped, dark space inside John's gut. He could hear, faintly, the sounds of running water, but it was drowned out mainly by the human's heartbeat and breaths. No speaking, curiously. Warren assumed the human was by himself.
He was still alive in the man's stomach, so the little merfolk decided to try and speak up.
"Hello? Can you hear me…?" He called out while reaching around in the darkness for the stomach lining.
John paused, then submerged the hose in the bucket to make it quieter. He simply gave his stomach a few pats.
Warren jolted when a few firm thumps jostled his watery cage. So he could be heard! Maybe he had a chance of survival, after all.
"Okay, um, would you let me out, please?" Warren whined. He ached to stretch his limbs out and breathe cleanly again.
John hummed in response. He dipped his finger in the bucket to test the temperature. It wasn't nearly warm enough. The merfolk could go into shock if he was suddenly dumped from his warm stomach into cool water.
He couldn't quite communicate it to him, but John had to keep Warren in his stomach a little longer while the fresh saltwater warmed up. The big man grimaced, then, when he realized he should gulp down some of the salty water to replenish some oxygen in his gut.
Warren waited impatiently for the human's response. Why wasn't he just talking back to him if he could be heard? He was speaking a human language… maybe it was the wrong one?
Then he heard the man swallow a few times. Warren half-expected another unfortunate merfolk to enter the human's stomach along with him! But it was just plain water. Saltwater. The man actually drank saltwater… what in the hell?
"Hey, that's nice and all, but I really, really don't want to be digested…" Warren croaked as the colder water swirled around him.
John hummed. The poor little guy really thought he was just his snack, huh? He supposed it was fair. He was being sold at the fish market, after all. He smacked his tongue a few times, grimacing from the overwhelmingly salty taste before pulling up a chair and sitting down beside the bucket. He slid his palm up and down his gut as he waited, a small consolation for the aquatic captive in his belly.
When Warren didn't get a response back from the human, he started getting restless again. It felt like the big guy had settled down, rubbing his stomach to gloat. Oh, if only he did choke on him! It would have served his dumb ass right. Warren felt around for the entrance to the man's esophagus, panting in the little pocket of air that sat right up along the top of his water-filled stomach. The merman clawed at the sphincter, using his lower eight limbs to propel himself upwards.
John squirmed in his seat when tiny hands pried inside his stomach. He grunted in discomfort. That was not a sensation he had ever experienced before. It wasn't painful but it sure as hell didn't feel good. The little merman clearly wanted out! John forced himself to relax, concerned that he might hurt the little guy if his muscles spasmed.
Warren's efforts were met with surprisingly little resistance. He managed to get his head and shoulders past the strong ring of muscles that closed off the human's esophagus from his stomach. God, it was tight. How did he even fit down here in the first place when he could barely squeeze through?
While Warren continued to try and escape, John couldn't bear the sensation any longer. He stood up and paced around, trying to get his mind off of it. He wanted so badly to ask the merfolk to stop. So he inhaled and growled a simple "Quit it."
Warren froze as the human's deep, gravelly voice vibrated through his body. That was his first time hearing him speak, and it was the same language.
"S-so you can understand me! Why won't you let me out?" The merman cried, lowering himself back into the human's watery gut to breathe.
John felt the water's temperature again. It was warming up, but still not quite to temp. He wondered if he should just say screw it and cough up the little guy before he hurt himself trying to squeeze up his gullet on his own.
The man scooped some of the saltwater into a smaller container first. Then he stuck his finger down his throat and gagged a bit before bringing his stomach contents up in one go.
Warren was swept up along with all the water in the human's stomach. It all happened so fast that he felt like he teleported! After being surrounded by nothing but darkness for the past hour or so, he writhed uncomfortably against John's hand, now.
John groaned and swallowed, his throat stinging. But the merfolk was safe, just a sopping wet little bundle of tentacles in his hand, now. The rest of the water splashed on the floor beside the bucket… he could clean it up later. For now, he lowered Warren into the smaller container of saltwater first.
Warren twitched, his nerves all alight as he was dipped under water that was much cooler than the water that was as warm as a human's insides. God, he was cold. He curled up in a little ball on the bottom of the container that was in fact an old coleslaw tub.
John flicked the water and mucous off his hands, studying the merman in the container. He looked even smaller, all curled up like that. Impossibly smaller. And shivering, to boot. Sure, John had swallowed him whole and kept him trapped in his belly for over an hour. But he hoped that his warm hand dipped into the water and cupping around the little bundle would help.
Warren was furious with the human. He put him through so much stress, he felt like his hair was already falling out. Yet he couldn't resist pressing himself closer to that warm, submerged skin, wrapping his tentacles around the man's thick fingers. He shuddered.
John felt the shudder, the embrace around nearly all of his digits. He sat there, his hand in a recycled coleslaw bucket, cuddling a tiny merfolk that was taken from cup, to stomach, and finally to this. He was glad he released him when he did, looking back on it.
After another 15 minutes passed, John nudged the little guy curled around his fingers. It was time to transfer him to the warm, aerated bucket.
Warren just grumbled. He was comfortable, damn it. The human's big hand was hardly even warming him anymore, it was just nice to hug. It had been a long time since he had hugged like that. Yet, slowly, he released his grip on John's fingers and peered up at him from the shallow water.
"Thanks…" he said softly. Why was he even thanking the human? He swallowed him!
But… he did let him out. Eventually. Even if it was terrifying to get sucked up his gullet like that.
John just smiled down at him. He didn't expect any thanks from the scared little merfolk. His heart thumped as he held the small container a while longer, gazing down at Warren. He really was a pretty little merman, with long flowing hair and colorful, orange tentacles that curled and uncurled in a varied pattern, as if they were flexing fingers. John so wanted to touch him again, if he weren't so worried about getting him into a more oxygenated environment.
Warren couldn't help but stare back up at the massive man's face. He was smiling down at him in a way that would have been unnerving, if he wasn't already being treated so gently. Maybe, just maybe, Warren could believe that getting swallowed by him was the human's way of sneaking him out of the pet trade. Otherwise, he would have just left him to be digested… right?
John finally pulled his gaze away from Warren and dipped the little container in the bucket. He let some of the warmer water trickle in at the corner, slowly acclimating it. Then he dipped the whole thing in, and Warren was free to swim out.
And so he did. While the bucket wasn't the roomiest container, it sure beat being stuck in a display cup or… dare he say it. The human's belly. Even if that belly was much, much warmer.
While Warren swam around in the heated pail, John watched him a little while longer before pulling himself away to the kitchen. He pulled a plate of fresh fish from the fridge and got to work cleaning it in the sink.
Once Warren was more comfortable and feeling his energy start to come back, he peeked up at the top of the bucket, looking around for the big human. He spotted him across the house, messing with something out of view.
Once John started cooking the fillets in a pan, Warren finally remembered that he was hungry. Starving. The smell of cooking fish was so tantalizing, he almost wanted to climb out of the bucket and beg for some.
That turned out to be completely unnecessary, of course, as John plated up the fish and brought it back over to the pail to sit own beside it at a table. He eyed the merman in the bucket, who sheepishly eyed him back from the very edge, as he used a fork to cut up a small piece of fish.
John stabbed the fork through and reached it down towards the bucket, not putting it in the water, but just above. When Warren didn't take it, he shook it a few times, beckoning him.
Warren whined to himself, eyeing the food just above him. He had watched the human prepare it, so he was almost certain that it was safe to eat. He just… struggled to trust him, still. Why on earth was he being so nice to him?
His shyness didn't last, however, and Warren swam up to the piece of fish and grasped it. It slid off the fork easily and he took it under the water with him, taking bites out of it as if he had never eaten before in his life.
"Ohh, it's so good. It's so good." He hummed, using his tentacles to anchor himself to the side of the bucket while he ate a piece of fish that was nearly a quarter of his body length.
John hadn't even taken a bite of his own portion. He leaned on his hand, grinning as he watched Warren devour the little piece of cooked fish.
Once Warren had eaten it all, he looked up at the human watching him. He looked so… content. Just sitting there smiling at him. What did he want?
The human signed something at him just then. Warren recognized it as nonverbal speech, but… he had no idea what was being said. He just shook his head at the human.
John tapped his fingers on the table. He leaned away from the merfolk's sight and took a bite of his fish, then swallowed it before clearing his throat. "Name?" He asked, roughly, leaning back over to the bucket.
Warren pulled his head above water, clinging to the side of the container. He could breathe above water for a short period of time. "I'm Warren." He replied.
"John." The human said, nodding. He leaned away again to take more bites of his food.
Warren watched as John just sat down, eating quietly. He looked around the house for the first time, at least, what he could see from inside the tall pail. It was small, homely. The walls were an off-white color and lined with old fishing nets and dried sea stars. He trembled. The human, John, must have been a fisherman. Warren had mixed feelings about being in his house.
"Why did you save me?" Warren asked suddenly. "I mean, I guess you saved me. You did swallow me whole, but… hell, you didn't even pay the guy. You stole me."
John grumbled through a mouthful of food. He leaned back over and stared down at Warren with a sudden, intense look that made the little merfolk dip under the water briefly.
"It's cruel." John muttered. He gestured out the window. "Selling merfolk."
Warren watched John's big, muscular arms gesturing above him. "'Course it's cruel. But humans are bigger and stronger, and I got caught."
"I set em' free from my nets." John rumbled. "Supposed to. Some people just don't."
Warren squinted. He didn't believe that for one minute, humans adhering to some sort of code when it came to his folk. But, John did seem sincere. Perhaps he wasn't the type of human to capture a merfolk, but Warren had the misfortune of landing in the clutches of one who would.
"So you're saying that you'll set me free?" Warren asked. He noticed that John didn't maintain eye contact with him while he was speaking. "John?"
John just nodded. Then he shrugged as he stared out the window. "Or stay."
"Stay?" Warren scoffed. He looked around the man's place again. "Where?"
John shrugged again. "75 gallons, 90 gallons."
"You're talking about water?" Warren frowned. "You want to keep me in an aquarium like a pet."
John shook his head. "Not a pet." He looked down at Warren, finally. "Small roommate."
Warren's cheeks flushed. The way John was looking at him was… fond. Very fond. He had never considered being "roommates" with a human, before.
He let go of the side of the bucket and swam anxiously in circles for a bit. He wished he could see out of it, contained in a solid white plastic bucket with nothing but an aerator and a heater.
Warren sighed and came back up to the surface to talk to John. "Can I see the aquarium?"
John smiled and nodded. He pulled the wired heater and aerator out and picked up the 5 gallons of water like it was nothing.
Warren clung to the sides of the bucket as he was carried through the man's house. In a separate room not far away from the kitchen was John's aquarium room, lit up with lights under the lids of 5 filled tanks. His eyes widened, taking in the sights of beautifully maintained saltwater aquariums, all landscaped with rocks and corals and macroalgae. Colorful fish swam around, little reef fish that Warren recognized instantly.
"Oh, wow." He uttered, eyes glittering as they darted around. He didn't see any other merfolk in the tanks, just regular fish.
John looked proud of his setups. Each tank was meticulously put together by him, after all, to mimic natural marine environments. He was sure Warren would thrive in any one of them.
But Warren was unsure. Very unsure. John seemed like a nice human and all, but he couldn't forget that he swallowed him whole only a couple of hours ago. He squirmed against the side of the bucket, then turned to face John.
"They look very nice. But can you just put me back in the ocean? Please." He pleaded.
John's face fell a little bit. He set the bucket down and reached his hand in to scoop Warren up, only for the little merfolk to dart away from his hand.
Warren couldn't help but shy away from John's massive hand reaching for him. Even though he knew his skin to be warm and nice to snuggle up to… no! He wasn't going to let the huge man grab him and keep him in a glass box for the rest of his life.
John sighed and withdrew his hand, then picked up the bucket again. He walked it through the house and out the door, staring directly ahead as he hefted it over to the nearby pier.
The two didn't say anything along the way. Warren had to bite his tongue. He did feel bad for John, despite everything he had put him through. He seemed… lonely. But John did as he asked and carried him all the way to the shoreline.
John stepped across rocks until he reached the water's edge on the side of the pier. He tipped the bucket down and slowly lowered it into the water where Warren crept out slowly, a tiny splash of orange in the shallows of algae-covered rocks.
Warren swam out to freedom. A vast, cold ocean full of the unknown. He rose to the surface and slowly turned to look up at John, who was watching him with a pained expression.
"Be careful." John grumbled as his goodbye. He couldn't bear to think of all the predators lurking just beyond the pier that wouldn't hesitate to turn Warren into a meal.
"Thanks, I will." Warren said, then ducked under the waves and disappeared in the thick seaweed.
John stood on the rocks a little while longer, staring out into the harbor. His big hands gripped the edge of the empty bucket a little too hard. Then he exhaled and dropped his shoulders. Well, he did what he had set out to do, after all. The merfolk was free.
As John hopped along the rocks to leave, Warren peeked at him from behind the seaweed. The man's silhouette was distorted under the ocean's waves, but he could see well enough to know that he had gone back home.
And now, Warren had to do the same. He was released in a human's harbor, full of gigantic boats and hungry seabirds. Where was home, exactly? His lovely reef, where the water was crystal clear and the fish were small and colorful? Maybe he could ask John to take him somewhere more familiar…
No! John was a human! He needed to stay far, far away from humans, or else he'd end up in a little cup again… or worse. So Warren gathered himself up and swam through the seaweed and algae into the unknown.
Several days had passed, and each morning afterwards, John was seen sitting on the pier. Not too far out, just a little past the rocky shoreline. He often went out there to sit and watch the boats and birds, even feed the stripers that prowled the harbor for fish scraps. But he simply watched, looking out quietly before heading back to his home.
Then, one morning, a familiar voice called to him.
"John? Is that you…?" Warren peeped from below the pier.
John grinned and looked to his right. There, in the same spot he was set free, was Warren, looking particularly frazzled.
"Hey, I was thinking about your offer… and well, after much consideration… I've changed my mind." Warren said, averting his gaze from the human that looked down at him from the dock.
John tilted his head. He wondered what had happened to the little guy that made him come back. Nevertheless, he was very happy to see him. He got up and stepped down along the rocks until he could reach into the water to pick up the merfolk.
Warren squirmed as John's massive form approached him. He reminded himself to be brave, John was a friend! He even waited for Warren to come back… almost like he knew he would.
The merman didn't hesitate once John's fingers cupped around him. That same warmth as before, flooding through Warren's limbs. He clung to the man's huge hand, wrapping himself around those thick digits that lifted him out of the scary, big ocean.
John cupped Warren in both hands as he stepped back up the slope and started carrying him back to his home. He hummed happily, brushing his thumb along Warren's velvety tentacles.
Warren huddled closer to John's hand. Warm, so damn warm. His brown eyes glanced up at John's, who was fixated on him with a big grin.
"So… you expected me, huh? Even after all this time." Warren mumbled.
John shrugged. "Ocean's scary."
"I… yeah, it is. I lived in it my whole life." Warren slid himself along the man's palm slightly. "But, turns out I don't know how to get back home." He shuddered. "Too many close calls along the way, too."
John growled lowly and cupped his hands more tightly around Warren. He couldn't help feeling protective over the little guy.
Warren froze, then relaxed when he realized John wasn't going to crush him. He shrugged it off, forcing himself to focus. "S'alright. I still got all 10 of my limbs." He said wryly.
John glanced at Warren, mentally counting them himself. Most of Warren's tentacles were wrapped around his fingers, but he believed him.
The two entered John's house, and Warren was carried right back to the aquarium room. There, he saw the 5 saltwater tanks, and a 6th one that definitely wasn't there when he last looked.
"John…" Warren said in surprise as he looked up at the big man.
John's cheeks flushed as he looked away. Yes, he did go ahead and set up another tank specifically for an octopus merfolk. At least to the best of his knowledge. He had never kept an octopus before as they are solitary, hide all day, and escape everything. So, the tank was set up with live rock, fine sand substrate, and plenty of aeration.
"You tell me what to add." John grumbled as he held Warren at the surface of the water, just dipping his tentacles under.
Warren slid right off his hand and swam down, looking at all the rocks full of little hidey-holes. No other animals were in the tank, which made him feel so relieved. He couldn't bear the thought of escaping one more eel.
"It's already so nice! And there's so much space to swim." Warren said, turning to look at John through the glass.
John smirked and shook his head, pointing to his ears. He couldn't understand the merfolk's speech through glass and water.
Warren stared for a moment before realizing that. So he swam up to the surface and poked his head out of the completely open tank. "It's lovely, John! Thank you." He beamed.
That was all John needed to hear. He reached out and patted Warren's little head with the tip of his finger.
Warren didn't swim away. He clung to the side of the glass and let himself be petted by the huge man who hadn't stopped smiling.
5k words. Master Chief is a giant and has no choice but to make use of his internal regen field for a mortally wounded soldier. Based on Halo 2. Some body horror elements involving surgical holes.
Even Spartans make mistakes. Big ones. That was not comforting to the Master Chief, upon seeing a crater in place of a vehicle.
Since he was young, John was always bigger than the other children. A lot bigger. By the time he was fifteen, he was about the same height in feet. Naturally, he was taken forcibly from his home by an undercover super soldier operation that saw to it that his impressive size was utilized to the absolute maximum.
John had seen numerous surgeries and procedures by the time he was an adult. On top of soldier training, he was given injections, implants, and a massive set of power armor made to fit him and him alone. His specialized enhancements led to the Spartan growing to a staggering height of over sixty feet tall.
John became the Master Chief. A gigantic soldier crafted to perfection to withstand any attack, and to deal incredible amounts of damage. Naturally, typical weapons were too small for him to wield, to which the UNSC developed custom guns for him that were equivalent to the firepower of an artillery cannon.
Despite his deadly armory and titanic size, the Chief possessed abilities that were much less-utilized. At his core was a strange regenerative field that protected his organs. This regeneration made his recoveries from surgical operations a breeze, but the UNSC had yet to find a proper use. After installing a cannula in John's side, a human-sized entry into the Chief's organs, further advancements in his regenerative capabilities came to a dead end.
Many years later, John's enormous size found another use; housing the highly advanced artificial intelligence known as Cortana. Neural implants in the Chief's skull allowed Cortana to merge with his armor and to an extent, his body and mind.
The AI was fascinated by the Chief's strange yet amazing qualities. His size was one thing, but Cortana found the regenerative field within his core to be soothing to her digital body. It was inexplicable, but she was convinced that it could be used to help their allies.
That was exactly what Cortana was telling the Chief about after witnessing his honest mistake.
The alien Covenant were relentless in their attack. Ground troops, vehicles, and ships assembled to take down the Chief and the rest of humanity. Even a giant Spartan had to be wary of falling in battle under fire of Covenant ships and tanks. But the Chief and his squad were not fools. On the ground, foot soldiers followed behind Chief for cover while he cleared out groups with his cannons.
Taking up arms with Covenant weapons and vehicles was common. In a war of such galactic scale, ammo was precious. What better way to send the alien bastards home than with a taste of their own medicine?
Most large vehicles were easy prey for the Chief. Just a few shots from his cannon were enough to destroy Wraiths, Banshees, and Phantoms. But when Ghosts were on the prowl, Chief had to be extra precise. They were small, fast hovercraft that could outmaneuver his shots and take down the ground troops behind him quickly.
Out of the corner of his eye, a small flash of metallic purple streaked by. A Ghost, coming up from the rear. By the time he wheeled around to shoot ahead of it, he realized his mistake.
The Ghost's front was obliterated, and went flying. The driver flew out, and they weren't Covenant.
There, Chief could only watch in horror as a human soldier tumbled across the ground, landing limply. Presumably dead.
"Uh oh, Chief!" Cortana shouted in his ears. He holstered his gun and stepped over to the marine, reaching out to touch him.
"Careful! He's still alive." Cortana said sternly, and the Chief withdrew his enormous hand. He was calm, despite the situation. But the AI could feel his pulse spiking.
"What should I do?" Chief asked, his voice gravelly and monotone. He clenched his hands into fists. The marine under his shadow was completely still. But Cortana said he was alive.
"He's going to need immediate medical attention." Cortana said, then took a moment to think. "Now might be the time to use that regeneration, Chief."
John tightened his lips in thought. "It's never been used on someone else before. He needs real medicine."
"Chief, he's not going to make it." Cortana said, then paused. "It's not your fault. It was an unmarked Covenant craft."
The Master Chief was silent. Right. He knew that it wasn't standard protocol to operate enemy machinery, especially on the field. The giant leaned in closer, his helmet gleaming as he studied the downed marine.
"It's Charlie." He said, lowly. "Must have been lagging behind. Tried to catch up to us."
"I'm sure you would have done the same, if you were just a tad smaller." Cortana teased him. Then she switched back to a serious tone. "He needs to get into your core. But of course, the cannula is inaccessible under your armor right now."
"Can I pick him up?" Chief asked, his hands clenching and unclenching restlessly.
"If you're careful." The AI replied. Chief took his helmet off, a rare sight. The giant squinted in the sun, his eyes an unnatural blue on a face of pale, porcelain-like skin. Scars covered his rugged face in neat lines that disappeared under his short, platinum hair.
With his helmet set on the ground beside the downed marine, Cortana materialized on top of it in a shimmering, digital human form to supervise. She didn't know the Chief's intentions yet, but she had a good guess.
The AI watched as the giant Spartan bent down and used both hands to slowly scoop Charlie into his palm. The man was unconscious, completely unmoving. Limp as a ragdoll. Chief had to be extra careful not to move his limbs too much.
The marine fit nicely in his hand. His head was rested on the base of Chief's palm, while his limbs stretched out across his fingers. He was just slightly smaller than the length of the giant's whole hand.
"He's out cold. Don't think he'll be waking up soon." Cortana remarked as the Chief stared down the marine with uncertainty.
John licked his lips hesitantly. He was fully prepared to do whatever it takes to save Charlie from his own cannon shot, but… this was unprecedented. He eyed him up and down, measuring him before looking to Cortana for help.
Cortana shifted her weight on her hips and crossed her arms as she looked up at the giant Spartan, holding Charlie like he was a limp fish. "Afraid you'll choke?" She teased.
Chief grimaced. "No." He growled. Of course the AI could tell what he was planning. It made him feel a little better, but not by much. First time for everything, he supposed.
John held his hand up, angling the base of his palm to his lips. Charlie's helmet bumped against his mouth, which opened slowly. Then he tilted his hand, letting the marine's body slide downward. The Chief held his breath while he felt Charlie's limp body enter his mouth, first his head, then his shoulders. The Spartan took care not to jostle him too much, and just let the man go headfirst into his mouth like a conveyor belt.
"Good, you're doing good Chief." Cortana said in an encouraging tone as the giant took the unconscious man down his throat.
Chief didn't respond, not that he could have with his mouth full. He winced a little once Charlie's head bumped the back of his mouth, yet his feet were still sticking out of his lips. Despite being a giant, the Chief's mouth was not quite deep enough to close fully around a full-grown human. He never needed to, until today. He had to keep reminding himself that this would save Charlie, god he hoped it would.
There was no more time to delay. He had to swallow the marine down to his regenerative core. So Chief tilted his head all the way back to straighten his throat out and let the marine's head and shoulders squeeze past his tonsils. He swallowed hesitantly, feeling the man's body fit nicely past the threshold. Good. He could fit him down.
Cortana watched with bated breath as the Master Chief swallowed the soldier with just a few gulps. Charlie filled the length of his neck, causing it to swell as he slid down its length before disappearing under the Spartan's collarbone.
As soon as John felt him enter his stomach, he grabbed his helmet and put it back on. Cortana flooded his senses again, monitoring Charlie's status within the Chief's belly.
"He's already healing. Good work, John. You saved his life." Cortana said softly to the Chief, who stood up to his full height and grazed his fingers against the gel layer of his stomach. She could tell he was stressed, thinking all sorts of things now that he had a living human inside of him.
"How long will it take for him to be fully healed?" Chief asked, standing rigidly as he attempted to adjust to the feeling of a live weight in his gut. It didn't feel bad necessarily, but it didn't feel… good either. Not for a humble soldier like John that was unfamiliar with good sensations, like fullness.
"At the current rate of regeneration, I'd say a little less than twenty four hours." Cortana chimed.
"Won't he be…" John fumbled for words. "He's in my stomach."
"You're worried that he'll be digested? Don't be. The regeneration is working faster than your very slow metabolism, big guy." She teased. She knew the Chief's body better than he did.
The Chief grumbled and glanced back to where the rest of the squad was. They were holed up, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. His cheeks warmed when he thought about what their reactions would be to knowing that Charlie was eaten by him.
As if she could read his mind, which at this point she practically could, Cortana piped up. "I'll explain it to them. You just focus on the mission, and fixing up Charlie."
Easier said than done. The Chief's awareness of a mortally wounded marine lying unconscious in his gut affected his gait. He walked stiffly across the dusty battlefield, trying not to jostle him around too much.
Cortana was amused by this, considering Charlie was completely surrounded by soft, squishy flesh. Even if he was bounced around a little, he wouldn't suffer further injury. But John was so concerned about him, she just let him figure it out as he went.
Once the Chief grouped back up with the rest of the squad, he said nothing. This was not unusual for him at all, the Spartan that nearly always hid behind his mask. He pressed forward through New Mombasa, following the retreating Scarab that posed the biggest threat.
The Chief and his squad cleaned out the streets, eventually driving the Scarab tank into a corner. Cortana gave the giant Spartan the go-ahead to leap up on top of the thing. Yes, Chief. Charlie will be just fine during the bumpy ride. So the Chief climbed up the enormous Scarab with ease, swatted Elites and Grunts off the deck, and shoved his artillery into the core of the tank to blow it the hell up.
Throughout the mission, Charlie remained safe in the Master Chief's belly, but unconscious. He slept soundly while his broken bones mended together by the Spartan's inherent rejuvenation field.
The Chief and his squad were extracted from New Mombasa. Not together, as the Spartan did not fit on a Pelican. He was instead brought up via tractor beam to In Amber Clad, the UNSC light frigate. There, he could rest up for the next mission. As long as his passenger was fully healed and exited his stomach.
Cortana briefly explained the situation to Chief's superiors. They were surprised, to say the least, but thankful that such quick-thinking on Chief and Cortana's part saved the marine's life. The Chief was permitted to rest, so long as his armor was taken off for quick access to his abdomen's access port.
John didn't like being without his armor. He had grown accustomed to it, like a second skin. But he obeyed orders, of course, and resorted to resting in his casual clothes. His gigantic body was laid out on the floor of the hangar bay, the only room on the frigate that was large enough for him. He opted to go without eating or drinking until his occupant was free. He was used to that, anyways. Going for days without food was common for a Spartan.
Around him, soldiers whispered in hushed tones as the gigantic man laid on his back quietly. They had all seen the giant Master Chief in his Mjolnir armor, but somehow, seeing him without it on was unsettling. It was like they had grown so accustomed to an armored giant that they had forgotten that he was human underneath it all. To top it off, they'd watch in bewilderment as medics approached him and climbed onto his stomach, scanning the contents with x-ray devices.
All the while, the Chief remained quiet, allowing any manner of test to be used on him. He was a good soldier. Yes, he swallowed a man whole. But the x-rays proved that Charlie was in fact healing inside of him. It wouldn't be long now before he would be good as new and allowed to leave.
John was only worried about Charlie's reaction upon waking inside of a giant's stomach. Normally, that would be a terrifying thing to wake up to. Would he panic? Struggle and thrash around while fearing for his life?
The Master Chief rested on his back, on top of dozens of cots and blankets. It wasn't comfortable, but he couldn't complain. In Amber Clad was a relatively small frigate, and not equipped to carry the giant Spartan. He brushed his fingers along his stomach restlessly, just waiting for the moment when Charlie would wake up. Or, he shuddered, if he never woke up at all. What would happen then?
John clenched his eyes shut, trying to abolish that foolish thinking. All he had to do was engage the magnetized access port on his side and Charlie would be free to leave. Oh, he hoped that the marine wouldn't ask too many questions, like how he got in there in the first place.
That was when he felt movement inside of him.
Charlie awoke slowly, groaning as he stretched his limbs. His vision gave way to complete darkness, surroundings that encompassed him in velvety softness. He groaned as his body felt stiff under his full armor and protective gear… stiff and heavy with moisture.
"Hey… hey!" Charlie shouted as panic started to set in. He flailed in his tight surroundings. How did he end up here? All he remembered was driving a Ghost across New Mombasa, then… he couldn't remember anything after that.
John was very much aware of the movement in his stomach. He sat up with a start, swallowing down nausea as very unfamiliar sensations flooded his core. His shirt came off in a flash and the Chief exhaled shuddering breaths as he touched the sealed cannula in his side. It had been a long time since it was used, and his skin had even started to grow over the edges of the rubber gasket. The whole thing was cinched tight with electromagnets as to keep it from bursting open or allowing air in and out.
"Help! Help me!" Charlie was screaming now, his environment having shifted around him. His boots connected with the Chief's stomach lining as he kicked desperately.
John fumbled with the access port. There was a sequence to input before disengaging the magnetic field so as to prevent accidental release. Just a few presses on the top and bottom of the seal and, pop. Suddenly, a slit opened just under his ribs, just a few feet long and about the same length deep, deep enough to open up his stomach.
The Chief had never felt such visceral discomfort before this. The panicking marine in his stomach immediately went for the exit, clawing his way through the narrow opening lined with metal and rubber. It was just wide enough to accommodate him, but his gear was slowing him down. And the poor Master Chief had to lean back stiffly and watch little hands wriggle and grip around the edges of the gaping hole in his side.
He almost regretted not just vomiting the guy up. It would have been a preferable experience to whatever the hell this was.
After a little while, and with help from the giant Chief rolling on his side enough to slide him on out, Charlie was finally free. He coughed and spluttered as he crawled on the floor of the hangar, leaving a trail of mucous as he flopped onto his back and pulled his helmet off.
Then he saw the giant. Shirtless, with ivory skin. Towering over him with a fixed, unreadable stare. Charlie took a moment to process all the information going through his thick skull. He saw the hole in the Spartan's side where he had just climbed out of.
His stomach. His stomach? He was eaten.
"What the… fuck…" Charlie gurgled, scooting backwards away from the Chief.
John stared him down a little longer before leaning back and closing up the access port, wincing as the strong electromagnets engaged and snapped together, pulling his skin taut. He supposed now would be the time to have someone that was not him talk to the marine and explain what the hell happened. John was not good at talking.
"…you're dismissed." The Chief said stiffly as he sat back, staring ahead at nothing. He did his part and saved Charlie's life, what more was needed?
Charlie blinked, spitting a gob of mucous that wasn't his own to the side. Only then did he register that the giant was none other than his CO, the Master Chief. Of course it was him. There was no other man his size.
"Chief?" He said slowly. John eyed him from the side, then leaned away to pick up his sage green shirt and put it back on. Charlie stared at the now-closed hole in the Chief's side until it was covered up by his shirt.
"What… happened? Why was I… inside you?" The marine pressed.
The Chief was silent as he laid back on the piles of cots. He frowned. His body felt off, now that his stomach contents were emptied so quickly. His gaze flicked to the side again. Why was the marine still here?
"There… was a misfire. You suffered blunt trauma and lost consciousness. Cortana saved you by using the regeneration field in my body." John said. He made sure to involve Cortana in this, as it was her idea. He knew she'd be snarking him if she was here.
"A misfire…" Charlie repeated thoughtfully. "How did I… get in there?" He pointed to the Chief's stomach.
John slowly turned his head to him, incredulous. There were only two ways he could have entered, and to the Chief, neither one mattered in a life or death situation. But, he was honest. "I swallowed you." He stated flatly.
Charlie shuddered. To think that he was unconscious for all of that… he couldn't imagine getting swallowed whole by the giant Spartan. He held his hands up in front of his face shakily, as if he had to count and make sure all of his fingers and limbs were still there.
"How…. how long was I in there?" He asked, looking from his hands to the giant Chief's face. He had never seen the Master Chief without his armor before. He almost wished he was staring at the Spartan's emotionless visor instead of his stony face.
John tilted his head in thought. He didn't have a watch on him, but it was certainly late at night. "Most of the day." He said.
"Fuck, man. I must have been out for a while." Charlie groaned. He finally stood up stiffly, taking a few steps in his waterlogged boots. "Well, thanks for not digesting me, I guess."
The Chief snorted. Of course he wouldn't allow his digestive system to harm him. That would have defeated the whole purpose of swallowing Charlie. But now that his stomach had settled, John felt a gnawing hunger in his gut. The silence of the hangar bay was interrupted by an impatient gurgle from the Chief's gut.
Charlie's attention snapped to the source of the sound. He stared at the Master Chief's big, flat stomach, still in disbelief that he was inside of there, unconscious, while the Spartan carried out the rest of the mission.
John became even more uncomfortable as the marine stared at him. He already stuck around too long, asking him all sorts of questions. The giant Spartan laid flat on his back and turned onto his side, away from the marine. "Get some rest." He grumbled, then was still.
Charlie watched as the Chief rolled on his side, the hangar bay floor creaking under his weight. He shuddered, then, only just realizing that he was drenched and freezing cold. "S-Sir!" He snapped to attention, then walked off stiffly to the showers.
Once he was gone, John exhaled in relief. He decided then and there that he would not swallow another person. The medbay existed for a reason.
Unfortunately for the Master Chief, however, that would not be the case.
After a night of rest, it was on to the next mission. His squad would be none other than a group of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers (ODSTs) joining him touching down on Delta Halo, one of the Ring installations. The ODSTs, or Helljumpers, were a cut above, trained to jump from any height and fight on any terrain. Master Chief was too big to jump, but after touching down on Delta Halo's surface from the tractor beam, he and the troopers got to work.
Cortana made a statement as usual when the giant Spartan landed heavily, surrounded by the other landing pods. It was a loud entrance, but the Master Chief was never suited for stealth. Not with his size.
Many surprised Covenant were dispatched. The Chief cleared out groups of them while the Helljumpers circled around and took out the stragglers.
John was pleased. Things were going smoothly, and he attributed much of that to his competent teammates. Not that the typical soldier wasn't good company, but the giant Spartan could appreciate worrying less about being a big meat shield for the smaller guys.
"Chief, we got a problem." Cortana piped up suddenly. The Chief halted in his tracks and turned towards his teammates. Of the five ODSTs that dropped with him, only three made it through the initial firefight, and two were badly wounded. John glanced down at his feet where the one trooper shouldered the other two along.
"We're not looking good, Chief." The one trooper said as he set the wounded down. "Stubbs and Cricket didn't make it. Shade ripped into them good. And these two are losing blood, fast."
Well, so much for things going smoothly. John frowned deeply as he regarded the crippled ODSTs laid at his feet like a pair of hunted pheasants. He wanted to help them, but carrying two Helljumpers under his arm while they bled out would do them no good.
The Chief's stomach formed a knot when he realized just how he'd have to carry them. Two of them.
The Spartan clenched his artillery rifle and glanced around before returning his gaze to the Helljumper. "Take their packs and helmets off." He rumbled, and the trooper dutifully obeyed. Both wounded soldiers were still conscious, but were in crumpled up in pain.
The Chief crouched down and touched the shoulder of the trooper closest to him. She gazed up at him, eyes glazed over as she clutched her bloody side. "Sorry, Chief." The marine uttered, clearly feeling like a failure to the mission.
John didn't like seeing her like that. The fact that they already lost two others made him feel responsible. If only he took out that Shade turret before it had a chance to fire.
"You'll be okay." The Chief said as his big hand slid under the trooper's back, cupping her. He lifted her up to his visor as he straightened, then popped the seal of his helmet with his other hand.
"What's going to happen to me…?" The ODST asked weakly as she watched the Chief's helmet lift up just enough to expose his chin and mouth. She shifted in his hand, feeling the warmth of the giant's breath on her.
"Ah…" John licked his lips. "I'll get you fixed up. Just don't… squirm."
The trooper didn't have the chance to scream before the Chief opened his mouth and clamped down over her head, shoulders, and middle. She kicked weakly as her legs dangled from his jaws.
The one healthy ODST was preoccupied with removing the second wounded trooper's pack. Muffled shouts above his head caused him to look up at the Chief, who had a pair of legs sticking out of his mouth.
"Holy fuck!" He scrambled back in shock, then watched as the giant Spartan tilted his head back and gulped hard, sending those kicking legs past his lips.
John clenched his eyes shut as the trooper squirmed in his mouth and throat. This was exactly what he was preparing himself for. The first marine he swallowed was unconscious, limp and easy to get down. The ODST, while wounded, still had plenty of fight left in her. He didn't fault her, though. Panic was a natural response to being swallowed whole.
The Chief gulped hard again, his neck swelling as he felt her go down. Once her feet cleared his airway, he leveled his head and sighed. Then he reached for the second wounded trooper while she was still wriggling down his esophagus.
"N-no! Don't touch him, you monster!" The ODST brandished his rifle as John extended his hand.
The Chief hesitated. He didn't appreciate having a gun pointed at him while half of the trooper was still under his gel layer covering his neck. His other hand came up to grasp at his neck in case stray bullets found their way through.
"He's not a monster! Stay out of his way so he can help him." Cortana snapped, projecting her voice from the Spartan's armor.
"He just swallowed her!" The trooper shouted, trembling as he aimed his gun at the towering armored man.
"Sounds like someone didn't read the mission briefing. The Chief's belly is perfectly safe. She'll be just fine, better than ever, really." The AI voiced sternly while John felt the trooper enter his stomach. She filled it nicely… but now it was time for the second one.
John was very glad Cortana was here this time to explain things. He was a lot better at just doing. Even if it was snatching up an ODST in his hands to put in his mouth. It was all part of the mission.
This time, the last Helljumper watched shakily as his last comrade was picked up by the giant Spartan. He didn't want to see it, but… he believed Cortana. He believed in the Master Chief. So he lowered his gun and just watched with horrified interest.
The Chief was grateful that he lowered his gun. It was too much of a risk when he already had a wounded man in his grasp. This last trooper was more injured than the first, bleeding from his stomach and legs. The poor ODST just groaned weakly as the Chief's mouth gently came down on him, hardly struggling as he was swallowed whole.
John gulped him once, enough to get his legs all the way inside his mouth. He angled his head back and swallowed again, filling his neck with the warm man's body that worked down his esophagus with firm contractions.
The Chief leveled his head and pushed his helmet back down to cover his lower face. Surprisingly, he was getting used to this. He'd never admit it, but it felt nice for him to have such a warm, full stomach at all times. Especially when the second trooper slid into his belly alongside the first one. John couldn't help but splay his hand against his middle and give it a few pats.
Now it was just the Chief and one nervous ODST. The Helljumper trailed behind the Spartan's heels, more wary than ever. Don't get injured… don't get injured. He said this to himself over and over. The two were back into the fray, with the Chief hitting Shade turrets and other heavies while the one ODST gave it his all in taking out as many enemies as he could.
A stray plasma beam hit the trooper's shoulder, then a second in his hip. He went down on his knee, then collapsed. When he awoke a while later, he was met with Master Chief's gigantic visor.
He yelped his pleas, voicing great displeasure before getting swallowed.
"You're filling up fast, you know." Cortana teased. She could sense the Chief's stomach getting almost uncomfortably full, now.
John just grumbled in the back of his throat. Three ODSTs in his stomach was not what he intended for today. "If this is going to be a regular thing, I need some suit modifications." He said as he stomped through the battlefield unabated. One good thing about carrying his squad in his stomach was that he needn't worry about stepping on them.
"I'll put an order in. Access panel on lower left side, that way you won't need to get unsuited each time." Cortana suggested.
"Surgical wouldn't hurt either." John said.
"More modifications?" The AI asked inquisitively.
"Just some more room in there." The Chief patted his firm belly.
"You'll be hungry all the time, then." She teased.
"Nothing new there." John snipped.
"It's a wonder you've managed to survive this long." Cortana sighed.
Meanwhile, three ODSTs were healing up in the Chief's stomach… nice and cozy and forced to listen to the two banter for the rest of the mission.
Pred who's really shy about digesting prey but they let you watch, being the only one to witness that big beautiful gut churn down one of your friends. You try not to touch them, but by the time your friend is mush, their tummy looks too soft not to man handle. You grab the soft flesh between your hands and feel their fat flow through your hands, the pred blushing so hard and wagging their tail so fast. Eventually it gets too much, and they grab you and swallow you up faster than any meal they have ever eaten. They apologize but you don't care, because now you are in the softest part of them and feel so incredibly cozy, cozier than you've ever been, falling asleep as you wait to be processed into goop and added to the pred's incredible gut until they decide to reform you
I underwent bariatric surgery which means, besides that my digestive tract is weird as fuck now, that I physically lack the piece of my stomach that allows me to throw up. If I swallow something there’s really no way to get it back out again besides a stomach pump and even that won’t really work since I do most of my digestion in my intestines nowadays.
If you want me to devour you, you have to be ABSOLUTELY sure because there won’t be a way out
