#oh little creatures wanting to believe they’re humans following the footsteps of a figure larger then life and made to sacrifice themselves

[jewishicequeen]

I think they’ll have a lot to talk about

[philicheesecake]

An Unorthodox Lecture (UL)

Synopsis: Warren is sick of being belittled by Eli and has become paranoid of giants, so he seeks out help from Olivia to learn more about giants and how to defend himself from them. 

Warnings: Language, mentions of fatal vore, M/M soft, unwilling, nonfatal vore, near death, fear, and Eli being Eli.

---

A little bell rang out cheerfully throughout the dusty shop as the front door swung open. It was after business hours , but the front door was left unlocked for a brief time, despite the little neon lights at the front window saying the shop was now closed. 

The small Hunter began to stride briskly into the shop. The alchemist shop (or more publicly known as an herb shop) wasn’t a very welcoming sight. It was dull and lacked any real proper decorations. Upon entry, one would find themselves facing rows upon rows of dusty shelves with jars and containers of every kind which contained ambiguous contents. 

Warren’s boots clanked against the creaky old floorboards with each stride as he made his way toward the back of the shop. Oddly contrary to his expectations, the desk in the back of the shop was unoccupied. He paused in front of it for a moment before ringing the service bell. 

There was a pause.

He ventured to try it again then his hand froze as the door to the back of the shop opened. 

“I don’t need to hear that bell another damn time, Wilbur.” A woman’s voice called out. 

Warren turned to see the shopkeeper to the side. She didn’t look like much from what someone might assume from a powerful alchemist. She looked like she was sixty years old. Her unkempt hair was divided into twin ponytails that were slung loosely over her shoulders. Perched on her nose were a pair of buggishly big spectacles with a silver rim to them that enlarged her eyes almost comically when it hit the right angle. Despite the comical emphasis on her eyes, she looked very tired and droopy with baggy eyes.  She was holding an entire glass carafe of steaming hot coffee. 

“Oh— sorry, Olivia,” Warren quickly retracted his hand away from the bell. He paid no notice to her getting his name wrong. She never got it right anyways. For the reputation she held for her own intelligence, part of him wondered if she actually messed up his name on accident, or if she was just messing with him. 

Olivia ignored his apology and took a swig from her carafe. She motioned for Warren to follow as she turned toward the doorway. “C’mon, let's get this over with.”

Warren sighed and followed her inside the doorway. There was a stairway leading down into a basement with a higher ceiling. This area was furnished a bit differently than the area upstairs. There were bookshelves of ancient volumes, some titles were written in foreign tongues that couldn’t even be recognized. On the far end of the room was a workbench area and some pots and alchemist equipment that looked almost like what one might find in the lair of a mad scientist. Across from the alchemist equipment, there were a couple of armchairs to the far side of the room with a coffee table between them and a book set on the table. 

Warren took a seat as he was directed to one of the chairs and Olivia set down her carafe of coffee, picking up the big, heavy book. 

She paused, staring Warren in the eye with a very tired sigh. “Alright, so you wanted to know about how to survive being attacked by a giant, right?”

Warren nodded, opening his mouth to elaborate, but Olivia spoke first.

“I couldn’t neglect to notice that when you were returning my silver bullets from your little werewolf hunt that three bullets were missing… and the werewolf’s body. I needed that werewolf hair for my alchemy. I would have thought that you would be more concerned about how to kill a werewolf properly than try to learn about something as random as giants, especially since their rotation has already passed this town and probably won’t pass by for another three years.”

Olivia yawned for a solid ten seconds before sighing and took another swig of coffee. Warren frowned. “But-- you know what happened last time I was around giants. They kidnapped me! They nearly killed me! And they somehow tracked me down, too! I can’t just--” Olivia held up her hand with a tired sigh, instantly silencing the young Hunter. “Look, you don’t have to explain your whole merry tale. It’s fine. I’ll teach you anyways. And I think that this would be the perfect opportunity to bring in someone who knows a lot more about the topic than any normal Hunter or alchemist.”

She sighed, her eyes rolling toward the side of the room. She glanced at her small brass watch around her wrist impatiently. “Ugh, well he’s a bit late, but he should show up any minute now. Anyways… To begin I think you should get to know the different species of giants, or at least the ones you’re most likely to encounter in this particular area.”

Warren’s brow furrowed in curiosity, wondering what sort of co-teacher Olivia had in mind to bring. Even though he knew he should figure out soon enough, his curiosity made him impatient to figure out who exactly it was. Was it one of the veteran U.L. members? A weathered hunter who had seen decades worth of hunts and slain countless monsters?

He was a bit distracted in his own assumptions as Olivia flipped through her huge book and landed on a page titled, GIANTS. There was a diagram there that portrayed the size differences of all of the different species. The book, despite being weathered and torn in some places, seemed relatively up to date and printed out in at least the past decade or so. There was a size chart that showed several different species of giants, and to the far left was a tiny human in comparison to demonstrate the scale. He could instantly recognize the giant in closest resemblance to Eli’s height titled, Wood Giant. He could at least recall Eli using that term once or twice in the past, and previously wasn’t sure if it was just a term they called themselves, or the actual title of that species. 

Olivia’s bulbous dark eyes followed his and she tapped the image with her weathered fingertip. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the wood giants. They’re some of the most common these days. Most other species only have a couple thousand to a few hundred left in the wild, such as the mountain giants,” She tapped the largest giant on the page which was easily twice the size of a wood giant. Warren’s eyes widened at the sheer size. It was difficult to believe that creatures of such scale could even exist. His eye followed the page where paragraphs elaborated on each species. He stopped as he saw the information on the mountain giants. 23-27 feet tall. That was insane.

“How have people never discovered them to exist?” Warren pondered. With creatures at such scale, it sounded impossible.

“Well, they were discovered back in the medieval days. There used to be a lot more giants in the past, and they were a lot bigger too. In the late 15th century, there was a movement to eradicate all monsters, and the king of England at the time was just desperate to get rid of them, so he teamed up with the outcasts, such as alchemists and sorcerers to get rid of them. The larger species were quickly run to extinction while the smaller ones evolved to survive under the radar. Out of nowhere, they seemed to gain camouflaging abilities, which you’re probably familiar with. Camouflage varies by species. Wood giants can disguise themselves as humans for brief periods of time. Mountain giants can merge with stone and camouflage into the mountain. Kapres can merge with trees. Cave giants can turn invisible. And so on.”

She stopped to take another few gulps of coffee. In the momentary pause, she glanced up as they could hear footsteps coming from the shop and the door at the top of the basement staircase opened. A tall figure stepped through, and he could be recognized immediately. Golden eyes, spiky black hair, tall, muscular build. Eli. And he was in camo form, currently standing at 6’1, instead of his usual towering height of 13’3. 

Warren’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the figure approach down the stairs. The camo’d giant was smirking. “Hey there ya little humans!” He announced cheerfully in his rough voice. Warren shot a look towards Olivia in confusion, but from her expression, he could tell that this was an expected entry. 

“Speaking of camouflage, hello giant.” Olivia spoke calmly. “Warren, this is your co-teacher for now.”

“Wait-- really?”

“Who better to learn about giants, than from a giant? This is a rare opportunity, since most giants just love killing humans at first chance.”

Warren sighed, frowning slightly as the camouflaged giant came closer, skipping over to slouch against the side of Warren’s chair. “So! What are we learning about here? We doin’ those lessons ya asked about, Tiny?”

Warren narrowed his eyes at Eli, not feeling all that comfortable with Eli standing that close. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s what this turned into then. Olivia was going to help me learn how to stand a chance against giants.”

Eli laughed. “Ohhh. Welllll sorry to disappoint ya then. Humans in general don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s not helping.” Olivia said tiredly. “You should probably know how your ancestors were driven to extinction by humans in the past, unless you’ve forgotten, or if the giants tell different tales about what happened.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “Aw, you’re no fun all talkin’ about history an’ shit. How about we talk about more fun stuff, like giants eatin’ people and all that fun jazz.” He smirked down at Warren and he scooted to the side of his seat uncomfortably. “Oh and by the way, since this room is big enough, I’m gonna get outta camo for a sec. I can’t stay in this form for very long anyways.”

Olivia shrugged indifferently, continuing to sip from her carafe. “Sure, just don’t break anything.”

Warren shot an uncertain glare toward the giant, “And don’t you dare try anything, okay?”

Eli chuckled. “Ya know I find it hilarious when ya put on that scary face, Tiny.”

He stepped away from the chair with a smirk and there was a sound of shifting and cracking of bones for a moment as his form regrew into massive proportions. He had to sit on the floor to avoid contact with the ceiling. His eyes became slitted like a cat’s, and they were lined with dark markings similar to a cheetah’s. His ears were long and pointed. His fingers were tipped with long, sharp claws. Ivory fangs protruded from his lips in a grin. Warren’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the creature at his full size again, not feeling all that thrilled to be so close to the very same creature that had eaten him twice in the past.

“That feels so much better,” the giant sighed in a deeper voice. His sharp eyes focused again on Olivia as she seemed completely unphased, even tired at the sight of the transformation. 

“Can we get back on topic now?” Olivia tapped her fingers against her carafe impatiently. Warren could only guess one thing might be on her mind right now; sleep. She couldn’t seem the slightest bit interested or thrilled in the prospect of this “class” and just seemed to want to get it over with. But then again, her true expression never really changed, so it was difficult to read past this.

“Yeah, whatever.” Eli snorted. He smirked at Warren’s alerted expression, baring his fangs. 

Olivia sighed. “Alright, so now that we have the species of giants out of the way, now we can work on some techniques on how to survive them.”

“Wait-- what about fighting them? I should have to know that at least…” Warren glanced at Eli uncertainly, who scoffed at Warren’s statement. 

“Look, kiddo. I’ve got claws, fangs, I can run almost as fast as one of your cars for long distances, I have a lot more stamina and I’m a lot more durable than any human. Look at what you got. You’re just a soft little thing that needs all sorts of bells and whistles like guns and knives to make up for all that lot of nothin’ you’ve got goin’ for ya.”

Warren looked hurt. He looked to Olivia for some sort of contradiction to Eli’s statement, but she just shrugged. “Well he said it. That’s why knowing how to survive is more important than winning in any situation. A lot of Hunters need an assortment of tools and tricks up their sleeve in order to stand a chance. Hence why alchemists are often employed with a lot of the Legion’s affairs. Back in the medieval days, Hunters had tried to use blunt weapons, but they were pretty much useless in comparison. Giants, apart from other monsters, were the sole reason why alchemists ever got accepted as allies of the Legion.” Warren frowned. This wasn’t any sort of answer he had wanted. He would just have to get better at using his weapons effectively against giants, but against Eli he couldn’t really do that. 

“So… How do you survive against giants, then?” Warren said.

“Ya don’t.” Eli quipped with a smirk. “The only chance that humans have against giants is with your little tools and tricks, and giants know that. We’ve been trained ever since we were giantlings, all of the best ways to disarm ya tiny fellas, and we know how to find any hidden knife and weapon from years of practice even before our first Bindings. We don’t just have the looks goin’ for us to be the perfect predators. We were trained for it.”

Olivia sighed, not seeming to like the interruptions. “Without weapons, there’s still a few ways. Blunt attacks such as kicking and punching won’t do much against that, so you shouldn’t waste your energy. And energy is key here. Because if you’re eaten, the temperature is high enough to send you into a coma-like state within an hour or so.”

Warren frowned, recalling how the heat had been the main thing to subdue him so easily both times, even sending him to sleep once. “But-- if you’re eaten, it’s already over though, right? That’s it. There’s no way to escape.”

“Yuuup.”

“No,” Olivia said at the same time, and gave Eli an unamused glare. “No, that’s not it. There’s still ways. Pressure points and weak points to get familiar with. For the exterior, the point between the thumb and index is a pressure point, as well as beneath the bicep. Immobilizing the arm with pressure points might aid in your release. Interior points, for instance, the lungs. If eaten, you’d be directly beneath the lungs, and continued, repeated pressure to them can be uncomfortable, even shock the giant into awakening again by changing their breathing patterns. Keeping a giant awake is your first priority. Though their digestive system varies slightly per species, for Elmo’s type specifically, wood giants only digest when they’re asleep in order to conserve energy when they’re awake.”

“It’s Eli. Ya keep gettin’ my name wrong.” The giant glared daggers at her. She ignored him. 

“Another point is a cluster of nerves against the spine. Harsh enough pressure there can actually send a giant into temporary paralysis and knock them out. The giant digestive system is directly linked to their preservation of energy. Since they’re a lot bigger, their energy can only be localized to a certain number of functions. For instance, if they’re severely injured, but just ate someone, their body will divert most of the energy to recovery before digesting anything. For getting knocked out, same thing here, and momentary paralysis affects this. So by knocking them out, you can actually set back their digestive system by a few to several hours. This can really buy you time, but the key thing here is that you are actually able to stay awake for any of this.“

Eli’s brow furrowed as she spoke. “A bunch of bullshit. I’ve never had anyone do that to me before. It’s probably just a myth. Cuz they always try everything, and it doesn’t do much except feel good.”

Warren grimaced disapprovingly at Eli’s words, but at least found Olivia’s words informative. He still had reason to be hesitant to credit it however, because of Eli’s comment. 

“So basically… The best chance you have of surviving a giant is if you have weapons, or if you’re already eaten… But I mean if you’re hurting them, it’s not the same as being released. It’s just… prolonging death.” Warren said, the corners of his mouth tilted in a lopsided frown. 

“Not exactly. The pressure point against the spine can set them off long enough in repetition to drain them of energy overtime into eventual release, which must be timed properly if you’d have any better chance of escaping them there, or to eventually kill them slowly from energy deprivation. That could take days, though. And you’d need methods of keeping yourself awake during that period of time.” 

Eli let out a very loud yawn, that was more of a statement of boredom than him actually being tired. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” Olivia raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Nah, nah. This is riveting. Just thought it’s ridiculous that y’all think it’s possible to kill a giant from a technique as lousy as that. It’ll never work anyways. How about we get to the hands-on learning part ya told me about already.”

Olivia ignored him again, beginning to continue. Warren’s brow furrowed slightly upon the mention of hands-on learning, not because of the opportunity to learn to defend himself against a giant, but because of Eli’s uncanny enthusiasm about the prospect, which couldn’t mean anything good.

“Another technique is to block their airway long enough to get released. Giants can’t breathe while they’re swallowing someone, but can hold their breath for a very long time, up to six minutes easily. Stretching out your elbows in the throat if swallowed forward, or locking your arms around the jaw if swallowed backwards might help you buy time until they begin to run out of air.” Olivia gave Eli an almost curious look behind her tired eyes. “How effective do you think this is, with your experience?”

“That doesn’t really work all that often.” Eli huffed. “I think there was only one person who tried that against me that got close, and he was like, a football player, so he had the build goin’ for him. He just grabbed onto my lower jaw for a solid five minutes and I was really tempted to bite him in half. ‘Course I’m stubborn and prefer live prey and managed to get him down whole just by biting a tiny bit. Totally worth it though. He struggled real good. Tasted like laundromat detergent though.” 

Olivia frowned slightly. “We didn’t need those details.”

Warren was listening to the story with wide eyes. “Wait— so you killed him?”

Eli snorted. “What do ya take me for? Some sorta merciful giant? Pfft. Yeah, I killed him. Oh, terrible me! What an evil giant! Who knew giants actually killed people!” His voice raised an octave in mockery and he smirked. 

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Can we get back on topic?” She took a swig from her carafe before sighing. “So what I’m gathering from what Ethan said is that if you try to choke them, you’ll get bitten in half.”

“It’s Eli. And most giants would probably want to avoid biting you in half unless they’re desperate. We like squirmy prey.”

Warren grimaced. Olivia ignored him. 

“Anyways. Onto the hands-on learning part. Edgar?”

Eli’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, barely bothering to correct her on his name again. He leaned forward, now sort of kneeling on the floor to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. “Ah, right. The hands-on part. C’mon over here, Tiny.”

His eyes locked onto Warren’s hungrily. Warren’s heart skipped a beat and he jumped out of his seat stiffly, taking a few steps backward. “Uh-- hands-on? What… what exactly does this mean here?”

He was trying to hide the unease from his voice and expression. He knew that Olivia probably wouldn’t let the giant do anything outright terrible to him in her presence, but she also tended to be fairly apathetic enough to make things rather uncomfortable for anyone without seeming bothered too much by it. 

“It means you’ll get a chance to try to ‘survive.’” Olivia sipped her coffee casually, her voice oozed of disinterest in the situation. She leaned back in her arm chair, seeming to halfheartedly be fighting off the ebbing tiredness that tried to draw her to sleep. Beneath her bulbous spectacles, there was a slight tinge of curiosity, though she dared not really show it. By principle, it was impossible to read what she really thought.

Warren’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Olivia. “Wait-- survive as in--” his eyes flitted back over to Eli who was trying to crawl towards him in the small space. His breath caught in his throat and his heart picked up pace. He stumbled backwards and quickly slipped behind the armchair. “Nononono-- wait-- Eli-- Eli stop.”

The giant rolled his eyes with an amused smirk playing over his face. “Yeah right… of course telling the evil ravenous giant to stop will work every time. You get a gold star for that, Tiny!” Warren felt a pang from his words. “But-- I don’t have any weapons! You should have told me I would--” “Blah blah, yeah keep complaining. C’mere Tiny.” The giant lunged forward in the small space, an arm reaching out to snatch the hunter. Warren dove out of the way, just narrowly grazed by the giant’s claws. He gasped, flattening himself against the wall. He glanced down at his arm that had thin lashes that shredded through the sleeve of his shirt. “Wh-- What the HELL, dude!” Warren shouted. 

Eli only chuckled at his angry shouts, closing in on his prey that was now cornered. Warren could only see a small opening that led to the alchemy workbench. If he was quick, he might make it. He just had to make a run for it and hope that the giant’s disadvantage of size here could give him an opening. 

Bracing himself with a quick breath, Warren burst forward. He ducked beneath the giant’s arm, flinching at the uncanny proximity to the beast. He had to keep running--

A hand roughly grabbed the back of his hoodie and yanked him backwards. Warren yelped. He struggled to pry off the giant’s grip. “Remember the pressure points,” He could hear Olivia’s voice lazily call out. Right! Think! The Hunter twisted to reorient himself in the giant’s grip. He could feel himself brought closer. The giant was now in clear view before him. Warren fumbled, recalling the pressure points mentioned. He quickly japped two fingers in between the back of the giant’s thumb and index finger to try to trigger release. Miraculously, Eli’s fingers reflexively came loose and Warren quickly tugged away. He stumbled onto his back, fumbling with his feet as he tried to get up or scoot away. 

The momentary freedom was short lived as Eli’s hand clamped over the Hunter’s chest, pinning him to the floor easily. Warren pushed around the giant’s fingers trying to pry them off without much luck. He tried again to jam the pressure point, but without any success. Most of the force holding down Warren came from the arm after all, so his efforts came out useless. 

“All out of luck now, eh Hunter?” The giant taunted. 

Warren’s eyes narrowed. “Okay fine. You win. Let me try again.” 

Eli let out a snort. “Uhh nope. I don’t think that’s how things will be working here. I’m not lettin’ ya go quite yet.”

Warren’s eyes widened by a hair. He shot a pleading look to Olivia, who appeared bored out of her wits as she sleepily sipped from her carafe. “Don’t look at me. Just practice those internal techniques we talked about.” She yawned, leaning back in the armchair, seeming almost ready to sleep. 

Warren looked back at Eli nervously, but he knew nothing he said or did would change the giant’s trajectory now. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in deep breaths. “I f-frickin’ hate this,” he muttered under his breath. 

Eli disregarded the Hunter’s nerves and lifted the little human off the ground, leaning back to kneel on the floor comfortably. Warren flinched as there was a pause before he could feel and hear the hot breath of the giant waft over his face before things became warmer. His cheek was pressed against a plush, slimy surface. The tongue rose up to slide over his face, slicking him down to be swallowed more easily. And from the pleasant sounds Eli was making, Warren was once again reminded about how much the giant seemed to enjoy his taste. Disgusting. 

It was even more humiliating here, knowing that Olivia was just sitting there idly watching as she would drink her coffee. Warren’s head was pushed in deeper and the tongue pushed him firmly back as the giant made the first swallow. He took in a quick breath, and his head was now stuck tight in the confines of the throat. It was too tight to breathe, so he had to conserve air. 

The giant took his sweet time tasting him for a while as more swallows sounded, bringing him in deeper. It was a necessary function in order for the giant not to be harmed during this to allow his prey to be slicked up enough to be swallowed more easily. 

Warren should have been used to this process at this point. He had been swallowed two and a half times already (the half was a bit of an unpleasant story). It was still frightening to him nonetheless. Not to mention, he couldn’t breathe in the tight space, and Eli taking his time with this only deprived his lungs from air even longer. 

The giant had only swallowed the human up past the hips when he heard Olivia clear her throat impatiently. He shot her a confused but angered glare, pausing in his swallows. His neck was filled out with the bulge of Warren’s slightly struggling form and the legs dangling from his maw would twitch uncomfortably  

“You’re taking your sweet time. You know humans can only hold their breath for so long. Take your time any longer and you’ll suffocate the poor Hunter,” Olivia muttered. Her voice was still very tired by default, but there was a strictness in it. 

A muffled growl sounded in his throat and he rolled his eyes, tilting his head back. He made several more powerful swallows, gravity aiding the smaller form to sink in deeper before Eli rose up his hand to pick off Warren’s shoes. He swallowed one last time, the back of his tongue rising up to squish the little feet into the throat before they disappeared. The bulge in the giant’s throat sank in deeper before it disappeared from his neck, reforming as a small protrusion from his torso that wasn’t too noticeable, as the giant’s larger form could harbor the little human quite easily. 

Warren coughed up the stale humid air as soon as his head pressed into the tight opening of a wider area. The air was hot, and already he could hear the gross, squelching sounds of the stomach as it stretched to accommodate him. He could hear the giant’s muffled heartbeat pounding nearby, and his labored breaths as he caught his breath from his airway being cleared. The rest of the Hunter was forced and squeezed inside the tight space, curled up in a puddle of clear drool. He was dripping with slime, and that gross stuff slid down the ceiling, connecting with him and getting in his hair. Warren panted for air for a while, disliking the heat and foul air that filled his lungs. It smelled disgusting. 

Once again, Warren was stuck sort of upside-down in the tight space, forced to curl up so his limited mobility made it hard to right himself. He aimed an angered kick near the throat’s opening, scowling and shaking in the darkness. 

Eli smirked through his fangs between breaths as he felt the small retaliation, then shot an annoyed look to Olivia. 

“Why rush it? That ain’t no fun.” He huffed. 

Olivia rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat with another swig of her coffee before she walked over to the giant. Her expression was unphased, though despite this, Eli could still smell a slight tinge of fear from her. This amused him. 

“You okay in there, Winston?” 

Warren’s face contorted into a further scowl as he heard Olivia’s muffled voice from outside. He squirmed wildly in place, trying to reorient himself in the sweltering darkness. He kicked at the tight walls angrily. “You frickin— freak! You just let me get eaten by a giant! What the f-fuck is wrong with you!” He glared up at the ceiling, grimacing as slime dripped onto his face. “And stop taking your sweet time. I’m not a dang candy!”

Eli snickered, rubbing at the form in his gut, much to Warren’s annoyance. “Nah, candies are sweet. You taste more like meat.” 

Warren’s eyes narrowed and he kicked angrily in defiance. “That’s disgusting. Don’t ever call me that,”

“Ya know, I might actually have room for seconds if you were interested in learning as well.” Eli sneered at the alchemist. 

“You do NOT.” Warren’s muffled voice came from Eli’s middle, punctuated by an angry kick that was visible from the surface.

The giant smirked. “Oh yeah? Wanna test that?”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed by a hair. Her voice lowered threateningly. “That would be unnecessary. And if you try anything, you’ll find yourself stuck in your camouflaged form again without even realizing what hit you.”

Eli smirked, “Aww you don’t think it’ll be fun?”

“Can we focus now?” Olivia’s voice came in a tired drawl. Any alarm from Eli’s threat of eating her was quickly gone from her countenance.

The giant rolled his eyes. “Meh, boring, but whatever.”

Olivia moved closer to the giant and poked his middle with an unwavering expression. 

“Stopit!” Warren’s muffled voice snapped angrily. 

Eli snickered.  “Yeah, stop it, alchemist lady.”

Warren paused. “...Olivia?” He squirmed slightly in place to try to get himself at least more upright, though without much success. All that could be seen were the bulges of his form shifting around from the outside. 

Olivia pursed her lips for a moment, part of her was curious and interested, and another part was a little fearful of the giant being completely capable of swallowing an entire human being. She had heard of it done before, but she had just never witnessed it. It was surreal to comprehend. The analytical, scientific side of her brain was curious about how it was physically possible, and how the hunter was even able to gather air there, despite having studied recounts of hunters who had confirmed that it was possible. It was a very curious opportunity to be able to work and study alongside a real giant. As far as she knew, giants never worked alongside humans, so this was a very rare occasion. 

“Yes, that was me,” Olivia withdrew her hand, her voice returning in her usual tired drawl. Any interest she had was impossible to guess from how well she concealed it. “Are you able to get your back to face me? Just by using the poke as a point of reference.”

Warren paused, panting tiredly. The heat was overwhelming here, and being upside down, the crown of his head was half-immersed into the gross puddle of fluids at the pit of the stomach. He was getting a headache from this. The darkness here was disorienting and made it even harder to figure himself out. 

“I can’t move. I’m upside down.”

“I guess you’ll die then.” Olivia huffed apathetically. 

“WHAT-!”

A flurry of struggles came from the giant’s middle and Eli shut his eyes, putting his hands against his middle with a grin. “Yeah keep up that stellar fighting and that’ll magically teleport you out.” He chuckled, looking down and poked at Warren’s form. “Ya can’t just expect every giant to let you go cuz you’re a little tired, or landed wrong.”

Warren grimaced, trying to push away the contact from Eli, but was stuck in too bad of a position to reach it properly. The best he could do was kick near the stomach entrance tiredly.  

“Okay, okay,” He muttered. He dug his foot into the low opposing wall, grunting as he tried to get enough purchase into pushing himself more upright. His socked feet slipped at first, just sliding against the slimy, malleable surface. He tried again a few times, finally managing to push the sides of his feet into the plush folds and tried to extend his legs just barely enough to push his upper back against the wall, sliding into a slightly more upright position. He grimaced at the gross sounds that came from this action, but at least his head was no longer immersed in slime. He panted for a while, the small change took way too much effort, and it was so hot and humid in here. The difficulty of breathing here didn’t contribute to his lightheadedness either. 

“H—O-Okay, my back is facing the ‘poke’ now,” he panted. 

“Wowww… you moved like a grand total of like two inches…” Eli’s voice quipped. 

“Sh-shut up. You’re n-not the one stuck in here.” Warren retorted between breaths. It was taking a while to gain his bearings, and the heat was really getting to him. But at least now being somewhat right-side-up, he was beginning to feel a little less light-headed. 

“Be quiet and focus, Wilfred.” Olivia drawled. “So from there, you’re in the perfect position to reach two pressure points. The lungs should be directly above you towards the front, and directly ahead of you would be the pressure point for the nerves along the spine.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed at her words, crossing his arms over his middle. “None of that’s gonna work.”

Olivia shot the giant a drained, unimpressed look. “Wilhelm?”

Warren tried to catch his breath in the darkness, putting out his elbows out to try to conserve a proper air bubble, as well as trying to keep the slime and stomach folds away from his head so he could actually hear. Olivia’s voice was muffled and he couldn’t hear it very well over the sounds of the giant’s innards and how his ears were probably clogged with the stomach fluids at this point. He was able to make out enough and pieced together the rest. 

He grunted, trying to bring his legs up near the stomach entrance in a weak kick, not bothering to use his arms if he didn’t want to compromise his little air bubble. He only heard Eli’s rumbling chuckle around him in response. His eyes narrowed in the darkness and he kicked harder towards the ceiling. Heat was rushing up to his head and the air was thick and hard to breathe, making the smallest actions exhausting. There was a jerky clench around him in response to his action and he heard a small “hic—“ come from the giant. 

Eli winced for a moment, but quickly smoothed out his expression with a smirk. “Hiccups, really? Wow… What a fearsome fighter.”

Warren glared. “Shutup!”

There were several more attempts of kicks and nudges that were barely visible from the surface, but were only felt as enjoyable sensations against the giant’s innards. 

“This is lame. Almost relaxing. What if I just take a nap here?” Eli feigned a yawn. 

Olivia glared at him, lowering her carafe for a moment. “Like hell you would.”

Warren’s struggles weakened and he rasped for air shallowly. His arms which had splayed out on either side to preserve his little pocket of air had grown too weak to maintain that position any longer. It was hard to breathe. He was exhausted. 

“P-please… just let me go… so tired… I’m gonna pa-pass out. I ca-can’t breathe.” The timid voice was barely audible. 

Olivia raised a brow, taking a minute to actually interpret the words because of their diminished volume. “Giving up already? You didn’t even manage one good hit.”

”What did I tell ya. It’s useless tryin’.” Eli scoffed. 

“I do-don’t frickin care. I can’t bre-eathe. I’m going t-to suffocate in here. Ple-please, Eli.” Warren just gave up at this point. Whatever position his struggles had landed him in just wedged him into the folds bad enough that he couldn’t gather breath properly. Normally, this shouldn’t be as much of an issue with the esophageal sphincter currently being lax enough to allow air to pass through.  His current position had him curled up downwards with his back facing the sphincter  to block off the only passage for fresh air. He was running out of air pretty quickly. 

Eli narrowed his eyes, at first thinking this was some sort of trick, but by focusing on the small sensations of the human’s breaths against the sensitive lining, he could feel the breaths were a lot shallower. He furrowed his brow. This wasn’t normally a problem, at least not one he commonly came across (not that he would normally care. Accidents happen after all.)

The giant sighed and rolled his eyes. “Meh, fine. You’re one pathetic human being getting stuck like that aren’tcha?”

Warren didn’t bother retorting. He was feeling lightheaded. The giant’s voice, as close as it was, felt foggy and distant. 

He was faintly aware of the walls crushing in tighter as they squeezed him up into the throat. The feeble breaths he had gathered were sucked from his lungs within the tight tube. The harsh muscles tugged at his limp form, slowly dragging him out of the confines of the stomach and completely within the throat and he was carried upward. 

Olivia stepped back, her expression only read of mild disgust as she watched the giant hack up the small hunter. The small bulge in his middle disappeared to reform in his throat. The fanged maw opened as the hunter was eventually emitted onto the floor in a slimy pool of drool. He wasn’t moving. 

The alchemist grimaced, moving forward as the giant wiped his mouth on his sleeve. She crouched down in the gross puddle of fluids, wrapping her arms around Warren to lift his face out of the puddle. Warren seemed unresponsive, or at least mostly out of it at this point. She scowled, squeezing an almost too-tight hug around him in a swift motion, collapsing his diaphragm enough to force a ragged cough out of his throat. 

Warren coughed again, spitting and rasping for air. His eyes were half-lidded in exhaustion. Olivia relaxed her grip around him with a sigh, letting him drop back to the floor on his back. She glared at Eli narrowly through her bulbous spectacles. 

“That was too close of a call, Elric.”

Eli quickly caught his breath after the harsh motions of coughing up the hunter and narrowed his eyes at the alchemist. “So? Most people eaten by giants don’t even get to live to tell the tale. Tiny here just got lucky.”

Warren tried to get up, but got too lightheaded from the small action and laid back down on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as he continued to try to catch his breath. 

“I need… a… a shower.” Warren rasped quietly. 

Eli smirked. “Called it. See? He’s fine. Priorities, right?”

“I am not— f-frickin— fine.” Warren opened his eyes slightly to glare at the giant, but his gaze was more weak than angry. A part of him shuddered to see the creature that had just eaten him and nearly killed him effortlessly. “I could have died— and— and I learned nothing! Y—you can’t do that to me again. I— I can’t take it.”

Olivia sighed, getting to her feet. She disregarded the gross slime that was now dripping from her clothes from helping Warren. “If you really don’t want to train with giants, you can avoid giant related hunts. Just stick with the werewolves and spirits.”

Eli snorted. “Keepin’ your nose clean ain’t gonna deter giants from huntin’ ya. Might help your odds a bit on encounterin’ em, but your fightin’ techniques are still shit.”

Warren sighed in defeat, rubbing his face as he laid back on the floor. “People are still out there... getting killed by giants every day. Dying l—like that…. I hate it that I can’t do fr-frickin anything.”

Eli shrugged, making a slight grimace of nausea as his stomach settled again. “Why bother? They’re humans. They’re gonna die anyways. ‘Sides, giants do a good enough job killin’ themselves from what ya saw at the Binding.”

The Hunter frowned at Eli’s words. He winced as he tried to sit upright again. He still felt a little dizzy and lightheaded and his senses were beginning to return in full… only to realize how gross he felt right now. 

“I need to go home and get cleaned up before Rebeka comes back from work.” The young man said finally. He managed to get to his feet, but he was still a bit wobbly. 

Olivia frowned slightly, taking a small sip of coffee as she finished up her carafe. She glanced at the giant tiredly. “Well, I guess class is over then. And I’ll add to the Legion’s records that those techniques don’t seem to work.” There was a slight tone of disappointment in her voice. 

“You can tell the U.L. I’m done. I can’t… I just can’t do this.” He shot a wary look at Eli. Even seated, the giant was still a good three or so heads taller than him. He shuddered, still weary and recovering. He headed towards the staircase out of the basement. 

“Atta boy, tiny! I knew you wouldn’t stand a chance there!” The giant cheered. 

Warren turned on the stair for a moment to glare back at him. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my sisters. I can’t do this to them. So you can shut the f...fuck up.”

He glared daggers at the giant before he stumbled up the rest of the stairs and left. 

Eli snorted, rolling his eyes. “Sheesh. Humans are so dramatic.”

Olivia raised an unimpressed brow at him. 

“What? Hey. D’ya wanna try out those ‘methods’ too, just for the sake of learnin’ something?” 

Her eyes narrowed in mute disapproval. 

Eli seemed to debate something for a while before backing down. “Fine. Fine. Some other time.” He’d rather not get stuck in his camo form again and didn’t want to give her any reason to do it. 

Warren was still sticky and icky from all the gross fluids as he went towards his car. He quickly found his borrowed silver knife from Olivia and his magazine full of silver bullets. He frowned in disgust. It was a stupid idea to ever sign up for this. He had almost died and Eli wasn’t even trying. 

Or was he? 

The thought sickened him to dwell upon. He quickly loaded up his borrowed hunting supplies and set them down on Olivia’s desk at the back of the shop. He didn’t look back as he left them there. They were an ominous reminder of his foolishness. He couldn’t go back to that now. 

----------------------------

Link to the rest of the series can be found here.

[rsbry-beret]

There’s Only So Much You Can Do

CHAPTER TWO- Libra

Find it on Ao3 here

Libra-

The new moon is a time for beginnings. Start a new project, initiate something- there’s no moment like the present! It’s an especially good time for dreaming.

On Wednesday, Tobin dreams something that isn’t a dream, again.

He is standing on an abandoned street, not one he recognizes immediately, but one that he probably could place, if he tried.

He doesn’t try.

Four figures are approaching him slowly, silhouettes hazy through the thick fog. As they come nearer, Tobin sees that they’re four human-shaped creatures, each riding horses- one red, one white, one black, and one pale green.

He watches them come nearer, but time passes slowly and they seem just as far as they ever were.

The footsteps of the horses are silent.

Tobin wakes up in a cold sweat.

-0-0-0-

Parker is more than a little concerned when Tobin told them about his dream-vision-prophecy-precognition-thing.

Tobin had figured, yeah, probably it was important. One doesn’t usually have a psychic-related dream and then ignore it. That wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

Tobin’s subconscious had weight, now. Serious weight.

Parker was flitting around, grabbing a few books off of shelves and dodging things that fall in the process, instead of just picking them up. Tobin followed in their wake, righting what he could. Parker headed to the back room, and Tobin followed, like he always did.

“You’re sure, four figures?” asked Parker, then kept going before Tobin could answer. “Four figures on horses. You know, maybe it’s a coincidence! There are plenty of things that ride horses. The four could just be a number.” Parker sat in their chair and sighed.

Tobin sat as well, watching Parker stare at their books spread on the table between them before tentatively saying, “when has anything been just anything?”

Parker looked up at Tobin and-

-fear fear fear-

-said, “That’s what I’m scared of.”

They picked up one of the books and flipped through it. Tobin craned his head to read the title, ‘Book of Revelation’.

“I’m not Christian,” he said without thinking.

“No,” answered Parker absentmindedly, still searching for something. “No, but lots of people are.” They stopped. “Here. Here it is.”

Parker flipped the book around so Tobin could read it, if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, just waited for Parker to explain it.

“I’m not saying this is definitely what you saw. It could be lots of things. But… this is probably what it was.” Parker tapped the page before continuing, “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

“Oh, shit.”

Tobin had been magic for literally one day, and already there was an apocalypse going on? ‘Jesus Christ’ was probably an inappropriate swear at the moment but, God, for real?

“Yeah.” Parker cleared their throat. “The one on a red horse with a sword is War. The one on the black horse with a balance is famine. The black one is death, and the white one with the bow and crown is… debated, actually.”

Tobin tilted his head and started to read the passage before Parker started talking again, this time rushed and quieter, more like thinking out loud than anything else. “Some people say it represents Christ, other people say it represents the Antichrist. Then other people say it’s pestilence, other people say it’s pollution… the figure is described in the text as a conqueror, which, in terms of vague bad things, is really incredibly vague.”

Tobin nodded and opened his mouth to say something, before closing it and nodding again. There wasn’t much he could say.

They both sat in silence for a lingering second.

“It’s almost 8:30. I know you woke up early to tell me this, but you really should get to work.” Parker was still staring, eyes cloudy, at the words. Tobin stood slowly, unsure of if he should leave them like this.

Parker didn’t move an inch as Tobin walked out of the back room, weaved through the shelves and out the front door, and made his way down the street.

Even once Tobin couldn’t see them anymore, he knew.

-0-0-0-

“Where were you this morning, Tobes?” asked Leif when Tobin reached his desk with four minutes to spare. “You were already gone when I woke up. Don’t tell me you’re an early riser, now?”

Tobin thought about his… precognition. He thought about the lingering smell of bergamot that felt burned into his skin, and the black tourmaline under his pillow that didn’t do anything to help.

He laughed. “Nah, man, that’s you. Just forgot to pick something up from the store yesterday, set a reminder in my phone so I could grab it this morning.”

Leif smiled and accepted it easily. “Cool. What’d you get?”

Tobin hesitated, searched his pockets for something and pulled out a loop of leather cord with a jasper pendant.

Leif’s smile flickered. He pulled back the arm that was reaching for Tobin’s shoulder. “That’s pretty. For a date or something?”

“No,” Tobin replied, a little thrown by Leif suddenly acting all weird. “It’s for me.”

“Oh.” His face brightened again. “Cool, cool. I like it.”

Tobin tried to meet his eyes, but Leif was looking steadfastly at his computer keyboard. “Thanks.”

-0-0-0-

“Okay, so, the apocalypse is coming, and I’m supposed to stop it?”

Tobin had never really appreciated small spaces before Parker’s back room. It could fit the table and two chairs, plus an extra bookshelf shoved right against the wall, but it wasn’t much larger than a janitor's closet in actuality. With two people inside, it felt smaller. With two people and sixteen books, it felt much smaller.

“I think.” Parker opened another bible and shut it again without looking. “I mean, why else would you have a vision about it?”

“Precognition,” Tobin corrected, trying to make out the titles of the books piled between them. New American Standard Bible, Buckland’s Complete Book Of Witchcraft, even, if he was seeing things right, The Book Of Revelations For Dummies.

Parker made a questioning noise and Tobin clarified, “I’m calling them precognitions. It sounds a little less…”

Parker started just to the left Tobin for a moment, then finished “...magical.”

Tobin shrugged.

The silence stretched.

And stretched.

“Anyway,” Tobin said, “anyway, who says I can stop the apocalypse? I hate to break it to you, but I think we missed a few steps already.”

“So you didn’t see the four horsemen?”

“Well. No, I did.”

Parker sighed and pushed back an inch. “There you go, then.” They pushed their glasses up their nose, ran a hand through their course, dark hair. “Look, I’m not exactly an expert on the literal apocalypse, alright? You’re cool, Tobin, and you’ve got a real gift. Of course I want to help you with it. But…” They started picking at their fingernails, brown varnish chipping off and falling in flakes to the table. “I don’t know everything. I don’t know what’s happening. I just know that we need to stop it.”

Tobin watched Parker fiddle with their nails. He nodded. “You’re right.” Tobin picked up the For Dummies book and opened it to the first page. “I mean, if we don’t fix this, who will?”

-0-0-0-

Later, at night, Tobin would wonder if he could stop this even if he tried.

He was laying in bed, trying to sleep, but his last precognition was still turning itself over in his head. Eventually he gave up, and got out of bed to sit cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to think.

His mind kept going back to the first story Parker told him in that back room, about Drunk Jack, who kept trying to outrun the inevitable, and ended up condemned to an afterlife in which he wasn’t even accepted into hell.

Willow-the-wisp. A hopeless hope.

Tobin thought about what Leif would say, if he knew what was going on.

I might not be able to help, he would tell him, but I want to be here for you. If you fall, I’ll catch you. And if I can’t catch you, I’ll fall with.

Tobin thought about what his mom would say.

Chin up. Some things have to be faced head on.

Tobin thought about what his first boyfriend would say.

Sometimes, we don’t know what we’re doing. We have to keep trying, though. Fumbling aimlessly in the dark is better than standing still.

Tobin thought about what Parker would say.

Religion is a lot of things all at once.

It’s stories, a bunch of stories passed on and changed from interpretation, just like all other stories are. It’s a set of rules, so people know what’s right and what’s wrong, and how to act to be ‘good’. If someone follows a religion, it’s real to them. But there are lots of followers of lots of religions. Some people say they can’t be real all at once, and maybe they’re right. But I think that as long as you believe something hard enough, it’s at least a little bit true.

So if you think this is how we stop this, then it’s how. It’s as easy as that.

Tobin took a deep breath, and fell asleep, right there on the floor.

[authorloremipsum]

The Zoologist’s Husband

A “The Glass Scientists” fanfiction 

Characters: (Mr&) Mrs Cantilupe, Ms. Lavender, Mr. Helsby, some friendly lemurs

Summary: Mrs. Cantilupe is married, that much we know, but who is (or was) her husband? Where did he go? Was he a Rogue Scientist too? Helsby goes looking for answers.

TW: basically people getting killed by big monsters

not part of the Arcane Heros AU

Griffin’s cat was playing a dangerous game, and Lavender was tired of saving the white furball from imminent demise every time Snowball decided with would be fun to visit the eldritch horror in the cage. The cat had figured out where to sit so it was just out of reach of the black thing in the cage, but it was still uncomfortably close to death.

Close enough that Lavender felt justified picking it up by the scruff of its neck and carrying them outside the lab. She nudged the cat with her boot, “Go on now, shoo! Can’t have you running around in there, you’ll get hurt!”

The white cat sat and looked up at her, head tilted slightly. Lavender pouted, “Don’t give me that, shoo. Griffin will throw a fit if you get hurt down here and frankly I don’t have time to be dealing with that. What, you want a treat?”

The cat only stared, tail flicking back and forth a few times before standing and walking off silently. Lavender sighed in relief and turned, walking back into the lab, the vague sounds of animals all around her. Growls, bird calls, things meant to mimic human voices, and something baying in a high pitched and squeaky voice. And over it, Cantilupe’s chortling laughter could be heard, followed shortly by a nasty sounding crash.

Lavender hurried along, rounding a corner made of crates and small, empty cages to find her senior flat on her behind, laughing wildly at a beast flailing in the cave before her.

“Mrs. C!”

The older woman sat up and clapped, “My goodness darling! Look how much she’s grown since we brought her in! I barely opened the cage and she managed to throw me back!”

Lavender grinned a little, “You’re okay then?”

“I’m the happiest I’ve been all day!” Cantilupe pushed her dark goggles down and placed a pair of fine spectacles on her nose as she stood, dusting her dress off. For barely a moment, her feet were visible, and one could see heavy boots beneath the regal skirt she wore.

The creature in the cage, a large red worm with a face like a hole of teeth about as round as a soup pot and as long as Cantilupe was tall, hissed and growled at her, slamming its head into the door in a vain attempt to escape again. Its tail lashed out of an opening in the bars on top of the cage, revealing how it’d slammed Cantilupe and sent her falling. The zoologist knelt in front of the cage with a grin, “Now now dear, you keep behaving like that, you’ll be sent to bed without dinner. Please, behave yourself?”

The worm hissed dangerously, but pulled its tail back into the cage, curling into a protective ball. Cantilupe smiled, “There you go, now I’ll see if Griffin’s caught anymore of those invisible mice, heaven knows we don’t need them running around.”

“You gave him our extra traps right?” Lavender asked, stepping closer to the cage and examining it for breaks or dents beyond the usual. Cantilupe nodded as she stood, stretching a bit, “Indeed I did, I do hope he’s had more luck with catching them.”

“Should’ve gave them collars before making them disappear,” Lavender chuckled, walking past the cage to pick up a bucket of small meat scraps. She glanced over her shoulder as Cantilupe began to leave, just in time to hear an order: “Make sure the Nautili aren’t fighting again! We can’t lose anymore of those.”

“Yes ma’am!” she answered, carrying the bucket off among the cages. Every so often, she dropped a piece of meat into a slot on the boxes or cages, listening until there was the sound of eating before moving on. Some of them, when she opened the slots, would reach for her and cry out, trying their damndest to get revenge for being incarcerated, barely satisfied with the pieces of meat she gave them. When the bucket was emptied, and the lab quieted now that its occupants were sated, Lavender let out a sigh of relief and hurried to the tank with the Nautili.

Nautilus, as one might know, are aquatic cephalopods similar to cuttlefish but bearing a large, spiral shell that protects its squishy body. The Nautili in Cantilupe and Lavender’s lab were very much like their ordinary cousins, if they weren’t for the strange barbs on the tentacles that stuck out of the shell of the nautilus, glowing softly, all of them containing a very strong poison. There were all but four of these in the tank, the only four that the two zoologists had managed to save from their cave beneath an active volcano before the pool itself burst like a geyser.

They’d found the poison to be very potent but, when diluted, it could be used as a way to make things glow, similar to paint. The only problem was, in an attempt to encourage breeding of this tiny and dying species, they’d taken two males and two females. When put together, in any combination, for any reason besides mating, they fought.

So they’d tried putting a relaxing chemical into their food in an attempt to placate the nautili, so they could be in the same tank together and so far it was working! Lavender grinned and made a note on a small paper sitting on the table with the tanks.

“Oh Lavender!” called a voice.

“Over here!” she answered, making more notes as she observed the nautili. At the sound of footsteps and the briefest whiffs of seasalt, she looked up and smirked. “Helsby! And what brings you to our corner of the Society? Is the repair kraken doing alright?”

“Oh she’s quite fine!” he said with a smile, looking around at the many cages with curiosity. He looked at her, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “I actually have a few curious questions to ask you concerning your teacher.”

Lavender frowned and set down her pen and paper, “Please tell me there’s not another betting pool about her husband.”

“Oh no nothing like that!” Helsby said with a smile. “I merely wanted to ask if you knew how she came to be an, extremofaunic zoologist. And, to an extent, was Mister Cantilupe a Rogue Scientist like us?”

To his surprise, Lavender’s expression became dark. “I thought it was obvious enough when the Missus kept denying to talk about it over dinner that this wasn’t something for conversation. She doesn’t like talking about it and I won’t either.”

“So you do know then,” he asked, putting a hand on his chin, a curious frown on his face. Lavender’s anger became an outright scowl, the kind of expression that makes one step back in fear. “Helsby, stop, this isn’t about gossip, this isn’t about what I know, this is about the fact that Mrs. C has made it abundantly clear that her past is not up for conversation. I don’t appreciate being seen as a loophole to get to the truth.”

The bathynaut raised his hands in defense, looking mildly alarmed. “Lavender I meant no harm, honest! We’re all endlessly curious about the missing Mister, that is all. If you really insist that no one should know I will stop pressing.”

Lavender relaxed a bit, still keeping a stern gaze on him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me to get to Cantilupe, that’s rather offensive if you ask me.” She turned sharply, picking up a brush from where it was set on some vague surface, and set off towards a large cage sitting beneath a window, covered with a tarp.

Helsby wandered after, lingering like a bad taste in the mouth, and Lavender grabbed the tarp, whisking it off of the cage. The creatures inside, barely larger than a fist, fuzzy and full of energy, rose to an active frenzy as they were exposed to sunlight. The bathynaut took a step back in surprise and Lavender knelt, reaching through the bars and hatching of the cage to pet these fuzzballs who began to look less like frenzied fluffs, and more like lemurs.

Lemurs with blue stripes and chitters that almost sounded like language. Lavender opened a small door on the cage and only one scampered out, up her arm and sat on her shoulder. The others calmed and waited behind the open door, watching as the zoologist began to brush the lemur that had scampered out.

After a few silent moments she said: “Helsby, you’d better go, they’re incredibly intelligent and known to pull the hair of strangers. And bite off fingers.” Helsby became visibly pale and backed up, the lemurs chittered in a manner like laughter and Lavender traded the one on her shoulder for another, who she began to brush as well.

Another moment.

“You really want to know, don’t you?”

“I do,” he admitted, watching the lemurs carefully. Lavender gave him a sideways glance, then pointed to a shelf. “Grab a brush, sit, I’ll tell you. But you’ll have to ask Mrs. C for details.”

~

They were travelling in northern Africa, Mister and Missus Cantilupe, younger then, with only streaks of grey in her brown hair and a rounder face. Her smile was not nearly so jovial then, but a smirk that came only when the thrill of the hunt had gripped the party in its deadly talons. Her husband, a strong man with a smile that shone from his dark face like the sun, was her partner in crime and science.

She the rogue, he the diplomat, they’d met on the animal trails of Africa and never parted.

Monsters had always drawn the interest of the duo, and so they travelled north, far into the Savannas and among the nomadic tribes therein. They searched, following legends of cannibals inhuman and monstrous, referred to by Shakespeare and other ancient literatures. But never, never had someone seen these beasts and lived.

That the common populace knew anyway.

Mr. C had read many a book, and didn’t fear these creatures, for he knew how to kill them and was in love with the sharpest shooter in Africa. Piping the ace and nine-hundred yards was nothing for her. The two believed they could track down these beasts, kill one, and return with its corpse as testament to their study.

But the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

They were camping on the outskirts of a jungle with a party of twenty men and five women, all taught how to use firearms, all unafraid with the prospect of facing monsters said to devour anyone they meet.The fires were lit, drinks were shared and stories laughed over.

Then the sound began to come from the jungle, a hiss like snakes, but more guttural and throaty. The hunters, all of them, rose to their feet, watching in fear as shadows moved among the trees, white bodies shining in the moonlight.

A young man was sleeping against a tree at the edge of camp, and he was the first to die.

A powerful pale hand, large enough to make an adult male’s look like a child’s, grabbed the poor sod, inch long claws digging into his face and throat before he could scream. He was yanked into the shadows and they all heard him screaming as the sounds of snapping bone and tearing flesh came from beyond the plants and shadows. Pale bodies leaped towards the sound, joining the carnage before-

Silence.

Thundering, heart racing silence.

“We found them,” Mr. C said in awe and horror, hand going to a pistol on his belt.

“No,” his wife said with a scowl, raising her rifle slowly, “They found us.”

And the gates of Hell opened beyond the tree line.

With a screech like a banshee, these monsters tore forth from the jungle, humanoid without heads, mouths like sharks and harpoons for claws, leaping impossible distances into the camp as gunfire erupted. One, two, three shots into one before it slammed into the man who’d been firing at it, grabbing his head wholly in that sharklike mouth of teeth and ripping it clean away with impossible strength.

There were maybe only thirty of these horrifying creatures, but that was more than enough, it was clear the humans did not have the upper hand. Mrs. Cantilupe managed to fell three of them, precise shots to their groin region causing them to collapse and lie still, and enrage the other beasts who saw. Mr. C fired two shots before grabbing the arm of his wife and pulling her towards the horses, spurred on by the pure horror that was taking place behind them. He cried for retreat, praying that some of the others would escape too, but most of the horses had already fled.

More and more of their party began to die, tackled, snared by those horrifying barbed claws, bitten and ripped to shreds, dying in agony unless another could spare them the mercy of a bullet.

The Cantilupes mounted their fastest horse, a poor stallion who’d been straining against his ropes for hours and needed no prompting to take off into the desert. The Missus rode backwards, firing at the horrifying beasts that dared to follow them, felling another three.

And it appeared that they’d made it.

By morning, the poor horse was exhausted, as were its riders, yet they returned to the encampment.

There were no survivors, bloodied and decapitated bodies of friends and travelling companions laid amongst the few beasts that had died in the scuffle. Mr. Cantilupe, ever the more sensitive of the two, fell to his knees and sobbed for the loss of his friends, new and old, people he trusted his life with. Mrs. C set to work, gathering the remains in what would be a truly noble funeral pyre.

All of the corpses, human and monstrous, joined the pile, all but one.

One that she’d fired down, what they’d come for, a body to study. Cantilupe and her husband dragged it away from the fire, trussing it up at the legs and wrists that it would be easier to transport before going to the bonfire and lighting it.

With the clothes and luggage of the dead, it lit quickly and would burn long into the night. Mr. Cantilupe bowed his head respectfully, speaking a soft prayer that their souls would be safe in the beyond, but his wife simply watched the blaze.

Which is why she was able to dodge when the slightest hint of movement behind her made her hair move.

She leaped to the side, shoving her husband desperately as a massive hand streaked in blood swiped the space where the two had stood. The creature they’d tied, it was on its feet, hands bound, wound in its abdomen still bleeding, the ropes at its feet snapped easily, somehow still alive. Cantilupe’s balance failed her and she fell onto her back, scrambling into a sitting position just in time to see the injured monster tackle her husband, who screamed in fear.

The sound of bones and flesh crunching, and silence.

The beast turned, blood dripping from its maw, black eyes locked on the hunter. Cantilupe blinked, and something in her mind snapped.

She drew her rifle and screamed, tears beginning to leak down her cheeks as she aimed the gun. It screeched in return, dropping on all fours and leaping for her, exposing the underbelly she’d missed once before.

That time, she didn’t miss.

~

Helsby, and the three lemurs sitting on his shoulders, all looked stunned. Lavender went silent, brushing the fur of the smallest and fluffiest lemur, watching as it curled around her hand, looking up at her sympathetically. She gave it a scratch behind the ears and lifted it back to the cage, where it scampered in after its brothers and sisters. The lemurs on Helsby’s shoulders followed suit, leaving the bathynaut alone and stunned.

Lavender shut the cage with a click and lifted the tarp, “You behave yourselves now.” The small animals chittered in response as she hid their cage again and stood.

“Well, you know now,” she said, looking to Helsby. “Happy?”

“Far from it,” he answered morosely, standing. “I had no idea-”

“Not everyone’s greatest threat is drowning or setting themself on fire,” Lavender interrupted sharply, walking past him. “Some of us have to travel, far, and wide, we’ve been chased by enemies, human and animal, and it leaves a mark.”

“Have you-” she shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass and he held up his hands in defense, looking startled.

A beat passed and the junior zoologist sighed, “If, if you wouldn’t mind, I have work to do.”

“I, I understand. Sorry for, well, everything just now.” He walked past her and said: “I’ll, I’ll just ask Mrs. C herself next time.” Lavender didn’t answer.

As he was leaving the crowded, noisy lab, Helsby found himself face to face with Mrs. Cantilupe, who put on a warm smile when she saw him. “Why Ranjit! Good to see you, how’s Charybdis doing? Is the new diet suiting her?”

He blinked and nodded, “Yes she’s doing quite well. I, just came to ask you a question actually.”

“Well, ask away,” she said with a smile.

Helsby hesitated, remembering the story Lavender told him. “I heard you could shoot, very well, that true?”

Cantilupe blinked and laughed, waving a hand dismissively, “Why, I haven’t fired a gun in years lad! Not since my shooting arm got broken, never been the same since! If you want someone to teach you how to shoot, you ought to talk to Doddle, his aim is incredible for a man who works with sweets!” She chuckled again and passed him, patting his shoulder in a light hearted and friendly manner in passing. “Perhaps I’ll see you tonight for tea?”

Her smile was flawless and bore no weight, her words were happy and honest.

All as if she didn’t carry the weight of all those deaths on her shoulders.

[fanficsandfluff]

Fantastic Beasts: A World So New and Bright

This was originally a drabble prompt requested by @the-word-weaver-of-the-faeries and it got too long to be a drabble anymore. So here’s a full length fic. 

As I was writing this, it turned out to be less of one coherent narrative and more three drabbles I combined into one. So there’s no main plot lol you can tell when the fics change. 

Also, weirdly enough, I started to ship Newt and Credence the longer I wrote this, but in case that was weird and gross, I didn’t do it???? just very friendly and cute platonic domestic Newt and Credence presented here lol Hope you enjoy!

Words: 2,276

Credence was never one to interact with others, growing up with an abusive parent like his mother. He’d keep to himself, head down, never acknowledging anything. But he did hold a certain affinity for cats. There were strays all over the dreary neighborhood where he lived. And he’d long to take them in for his own. Living with an abundance of cats was better than living with his mother, in his mind. Better than living with any other humans, in fact. They were all out to hurt him. But not cats. 

The young wizard would go outside and put out bowls of food and water for the alley cats, hanging around outdoors long enough sometimes to get to pet them. 

And Credence hadn’t thought of cats since living with Newt, being more distracted by wild monsters and other such magical creatures. It wasn’t until he’d taken a stroll through the neighborhood and in a park on a bright sunny day was his reminded. He was passing by a turned over trash can and a small mew reached his ears. He paused and tried to take a look around the area of the trash can as to what made that noise.

A grey furry cat peeked its head out from inside the can, a lone noodle from someone’s thrown out food looping around its ear. Credence’s heart melted instantly. He knelt down, not wanting the cat to be afraid of him. He started to mutter and made hand gestures at the cat, holding his hand out. Eventually, the small mass made its way out. It was a little larger than the size of a kitten, so it was obviously still young. Poor thing. Credence let it lick his hand before he was allowed to pet it. And the cat purred, nuzzling into Credence. Oh boy. He’d have to make a decision sooner or later… 

Credence arrived back at Newt’s place twenty minutes after, and the sun had just started to set. Newt was busy cooking dinner for the two of them and he stepped out to greet Credence. 

“How was your walk?” Newt inquired, not seeing at first but he noted a peculiar bulge in Credence’s coat. And in the next second, a cat’s head poked out from the coat and looked around at its surroundings. Credence blushed and he set the cat on the ground, looking at Newt but not saying anything. 

Newt sighed but he smiled, “Well…. what’s one more creature around here, hm?”   

Credence smiled wide. He cared for Newt so much. The man was so nice to him, pleased with anything he’d do. It was a welcome experience after the life he’d led. The Magizoologist knelt down and tittered, the cat walking towards him after some hesitation. The cat warmed up to Newt unsurprisingly fast.   

“She’s a beautiful cat,” Newt pointed out, looking up at Credence through locks of his light brown hair.   

Credence nodded and asked, “How did you know she’s a girl?” 

Newt smiled and stood up, “I’m not an animal expert for nothing. Now come, supper’s almost ready.”   

Credence watched the grey cat carefully, making sure she was adjusting to her new environment. Newt put out a dish full of water for the cat and set it on the floor next to the table. She quickly trotted over and lapped it up.   

“Have you got a name for her?” Newt asked once he sat down and began to eat.   

Credence, chewing, nodded, “I was thinking Molly.” 

Newt smiled approvingly, “Molly it is.” For Newt, this was such a nice experience. Credence found something he clearly liked and brought it home. It was refreshing to have Credence pleased with animals for once instead of hiding his fears of the ones Newt worked with constantly. 

And so Molly became a part of their small family. Well, not so small if you counted all of Newt’s creatures. Credence would go to sleep cuddled up with her frequently. Newt would bring some other creatures of his to interact with Molly, making a note of who she clicked with and who she disliked. 

A rainy day seemed less frequent nowadays than in the past, but they did occur. And today was one of those days. Credence stood by the window and watched the rain pour from the sky. He looked down when he felt something furry nuzzling and swiping against his ankle. The wizard smiled softly and he sat down on the sofa, picking up Molly when she followed him. He settled her into his lap and stroked her like she loved.   

Newt emerged from his suitcase after feeding all the creatures, looking dirty and worn as always. But still immensely happy. Nothing could bring down his spirit, even the tiring job of having so many magical creatures to take care of. Pickett had stowed away in his vest pocket, and Newt didn’t mind.   

He plopped down into a lone plush chair and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He looked out the window and hummed, “Looks like a day for staying in.” 

Credence nodded. He looked at Newt and asked him, “Would you like to read?”  

Newt knew what Credence meant and he smiled, “Yes, I believe they don’t need caring for for a bit. What would you like to hear today, Credence?” 

“Your choice. I usually prefer the ones you pick over mine.” 

Newt smiled and he went to his vast shelf of books, thumbing through the spines until he lifted one from its spot. Credence scooted over on the couch so Newt could sit beside him and Molly.   

“It’s the one we started a few weeks ago. I figured we’d pick up on it now.” 

“The one with the traveling banker?” Credence asked, tilting his head. Newt nodded in response and opened it up. 

“Chapter 6: A Game of Chess…”   

Credence sat back in the couch. He loved when Newt would read to him. It was one of his favorite things. And now Newt’s soothing voice mixed with the pleasant purrs from Molly as he pet her put Credence into a state of absolute bliss. Everything was calming. Even the patters of rain against the roof and windows was welcome. 

The peaceful state was only broken when Newt cut off one of the words he was reading and replaced it with a yelp and a brief giggle.   

Credence looked up, confused as to what had happened. 

Newt squirmed slightly, pressing his palm to different parts of his chest and abdomen, “P-Pihickett, come out of thehehere.” 

Credence now understood and he smiled softly.   

Newt giggled and he gasped, hunching over only slightly when Pickett reached his lower belly, “N-Nohohoho… Pihickett!”   

The small bowtruckle was heard emitting a mischievous little giggle as he crawled across Newt’s belly. It always worked out well for him since he knew Newt couldn’t move much because he feared hurting the small twig creature. But Pickett did soon exit through Newt’s sleeve, forcing another string of giggles out of his mouth. Newt held Pickett in the palm of his hand and he chortled, shaking his head. He couldn’t stay mad at the adorable little bowtruckle.   

Unfortunately, Molly had caught sight of the intriguing small creature. So she hopped off Credence’s lap with a meow and lunged for the bowtruckle. Pickett, sensing the danger, gasped and jumped off Newt’s hand.   

“No!” both Newt and Credence chorused, one trying to catch the bowtruckle and the other trying to catch the cat. They ended up crashing into one another, Newt on top of Credence.   

“M-Mahaybe this wasn’t such a grand idea,” Newt smiled and blushed, quickly standing up and running where Molly had gone, “Pickett, come out,” he picked up the cat as she was scratching at a small crack in the wall, “She won’t hurt you.”   

Credence stood up, “I’m sorry, this was my fault. I should’ve contained her.” 

“Not to worry, Credence,” Newt reassured, handing over the cat. He crawled close to the hole and spoke into it, trying to convince the frightened bowtruckle that it was safe. Once Pickett walked out, Newt picked him up, “Alright, back in the case you go. I know, I know, I’m sorry.”   

Credence felt bad now as he watched Newt retreat into his suitcase to put Pickett back home. He sighed and sat down again with Molly.   

When Newt returned, he looked bashful and relieved at the same time, “I didn’t think about the two being together, Credence, I apologize.” 

Credence shook his head, “Don’t. It was no one’s fault, really. Cats will chase things resembling mice, I suppose. It’s in their nature.” 

Newt nodded and he brushed his hands off, “I’m going to wash up for the night.” 

Credence didn’t object, and he heard Newt’s footsteps ascending the stairs. Oh no, what if he was mad with him? He hated whenever he felt tension within the household. He tended to create imaginary tension with his paranoia most of the time, which Newt had to help him work through.   

Turns out, they were both fine. Credence went to speak with Newt after the Magizoologist showered and cleaned up. There was no bad blood between them, and Newt even offered to finish the chapter in the book before they both went to bed.   

A few days later, Newt was having a particularly fun time with his creatures. He’d give many of them time playing with him. And he even managed to calm his Erumpent enough to let them roll around and start a chase. Newt was perhaps so livened with all the fun, it oozed out into the real world when he encountered Credence.   

He saw Credence laying on the couch, a book in hand as he read with a somber face. Molly was laying on her bed on the floor near the desk. Newt walked up to Credence and sat by the young wizard’s feet.   

Credence looked up from his book and grinned slightly at seeing Newt covered in dust and dirt.   

“Are you absolutely sure you wouldn’t care to assist me with them today? They’re all in delightfully playful moods.”   

Credence shook his head, “No thank you.” 

“Then perhaps I should describe to you all the fun we’re having down there,” Newt stood up and he began his depictions.

“The Occamy was teaching her children how to fly for the first time, and she was using me as targets for them,” Newt reenacted him having to run around and jump into the air to dodge and attempt to “fly” with the babies.   

Credence couldn’t believe the spectacle he was watching. Sure, Newt could be energetic and excited about his creatures. But he was never this eccentric. It brought a smile to the Occulus’s face as he took in what was before him. 

“And the Erumpent would charge at me like this,” he bent forward and pretended his head was the Erumpent’s giant horn as he nuzzled close to Credence. The wizard let out a giggle.   

“The Fwoopers were having a grand old time making me spin around until I fell down from dizziness. They’re quite fast flyers, you know,” and Newt plopped onto the floor after spinning around. His giddiness was only heightened by the amount of enjoyment Credence was getting out of this display.   

“Oh, and how could I forget the bowtruckles?” he hopped up and jumped up onto Credence’s waist, looking down at him.   

Credence looked back up at his friend, seeing the freckled and dirt-smudged red cheeks looking back down at him. It made him smile even wider. But he squeaked and started to giggle when Newt spidered his fingers all across his belly. 

“They all ganged up on me like this. So it felt like a dozen spiders running across my skin. It was so ticklish, I couldn’t believe it,” Newt smiled and he fluttered his fingers up to Credence’s neck. The young wizard snorted and he ducked his head. 

“N-Nehewt! Hehehe…” 

Newt slipped his hands under Credence’s sweater and he skittered his fingers all around the quivering tummy, “Doesn’t this all sound like fun, Credence?” 

Credence laughed harder and he shook his head, “Ihihihit’s ahaHA toohoohoo muhuch! Hahahahaha!”   

Newt hummed and he giggled, swirling a finger around Credence’s belly button, “Once you have a bowtruckle tickle you here,” he scritched one finger inside Credence’s navel, “You’ll realize you’ve never laughed harder in your life.” 

And Credence shrieked and dissolved into deeper laughs, being more high-pitched. Newt pulled his fingers back to give Credence a break. But he wiggled them above Credence’s face to taunt him.   

Credence squeaked and shut his eyes, “Noho more!”   

Newt let out a soft laugh and he lowered his hands, resting them at Credence’s waist, “No more,” he repeated. 

Credence opened up his eyes again and he smiled at Newt. The hands at his waist were still making him wary, but he let it be. Just the two smiling, panting faces were enough in that small moment. Now that the laughter had calmed down, the two could hear Molly meowing from the foot of the couch. She’d wandered over, seemingly wanting to get in on the fun, too.   

Newt receded off Credence and he sat with his knees under him on the couch. He picked up Molly and held her in the air, letting her lick at his face. He scrunched his nose and giggled softly before handing her to Credence.   

“Beautiful,” was the thing Newt decided to say at that moment. He reclined where he sat and shut his eyes, obviously tired from all the fun he’d had. Credence huffed a small laugh, having to agree with him. Things were beautiful.