#fireteamsilentafterdark ; khalom

[midnightfiireworks]

Khalom approaching to see if she can touch that Kronak Butt-- | @fireteam-silent-after-dark

the hunter is quick, but the lucent brood does not survive off weak links and unobservant thralls. 

kronak turns with a speed unimaginable in someone so large, hand extended, eyes ablaze. large fingers wrap around the fragile joint. all it would take is one quick twitch, a powerful snatch, and the bone will snap like kindling. that is not what he wants, though. 

he tugs her closer. it can feel her heartbeat beneath chitinous fingertips. it can smell the light wafting off her; vanilla and lilac. the void, echoing his own. different, but far too similar to be ignored. a snarl vibrates down his chest, rumbling from his core all the way to his extremities, down through his fingertips. it wonders if she can feel it, too.

“well, well, well— what has the broodmother sent me now?” the words, spoken in terran, are low, barely audible with the depth of his baritone. his thumb brushes over her fluttering pulse. “a little terran, stumbling far from her path.”

[midnightfiireworks]

“already so close, little one?”

kronak’s chest rumbles with the sound of his laughter, and it emphasizes the point with a particularly hard thrust. the little hunter is practically gushing around him, between their combined fluids. every roll of his hips is desperate and needing. the fluid slicking her folds and thighs makes every movement easier, guides it so it can take her with everything he has. 

and if she believes he is nearly done, then she has another thing coming. hive mating rituals can last hours, and they do not end until all are filled and satisfied. kronak has every intention of continuing that here. of filling and breeding her until all she knows is him, his name, his cock buried deep inside her. there will be no mercy from this knight.

“cum for me, then, hunter. show me what prize i have won today.” his hand pulls from her mouth. both settle around her hips, lifting them, as he buries himself deep inside her. his fingers shift position, thumb dipping between them to find her clit. “scream my name for all the throne world to hear.”

 Right, she got the message, loud and clear. No talking, unless it was his name.

Khalom whined as he gripped her hip. She wanted to move with it, to encourage it deeper inside herself, but its grip kept her still. Pinned so effectively between him and the tree, there was very little she could do as every thrust caused her to cry out. She was going to be bruised and sore for days, certainly.

His name, slurred by his fingers pressing down on her tongue, fell from her lips like a mantra as Khalom allowed herself to be claimed, head bobbing in a listless nod. She couldn’t ignore how easy it was for her to let Kronak have his way, couldn’t ignore the way the tension was coiling tighter and tighter in her gut, like a spring ready to release. Her hands sought purchase, something to ground her, and for a moment it seemed as if she was going to take hold of its shoulders, gripping at the chitin like a lifeline.

But she didn’t know if that would be good, and she so wanted to be good.

She reached back to grip at the decaying wood of the downed tree, moaning louder, all earlier concerns of being heard long forgotten. “Kronak,” she managed to gasp around his fingers, “p-please, I--!”

[midnightfiireworks]

Khalom looked way up at the eliksni, lamenting that there wasn't something tall for her to stand on to be above them. Like many Hunters, she preferred a perch. Leaning back so that she didn't have to crane her neck so much, Khalom folded her arms over her chest as a lazy smirk spread across her lips. "Oh yeah? You gunna make me, huh?" She shifted back slightly, knees bent, prepared to run. She'd enjoy a good chase. Got the blood pumping. And if he caught her, well, it sounded like she'd be in for a good time. | @fireteam-silent-after-dark

they know that posture.

as a marauder, they know when little things are preparing to run. they have seen it in their dregs. they have seen it in the risen he and his ketch have chased. he sees it in his captain’s mate, with her wide eyes and tense legs. they know the posture, and they match it with their own.

“oh, little risen…” the eliksni coos in his native tongue, mandibles clicking with delight. their four arms extend, hands open, claws waiting. “you do not know what you are asking for.”

they cannot wait to get their hands on the hunter. to hold her down, settle their weight on her chest, and shove his cock between her pretty lips. risen are only good for something when they’re being used. their soft legs wrapped around his waist, their pretty lips around his cock; they are holes and little more. it is time to teach this one the same lesson.

“but if you insist—”

they leap forward with no more warning. let the game begin.

[midnightfiireworks]

oh, she knows what she is doing.

her lips are warm around his fingers, and her tongue quick to give into instinct. he cannot deny the warmth that puddles in his abdomen at the sensations. it cannot deny what khalom is doing to it, even as he wants nothing more than to take. to throw her to the ground and take what it wants. to bury itself inside of her and fill her to burst.

his instincts are going mad. her grip on him is vice-like, even with the preparations kronak so kindly gave. a groan escapes his lipless mouth as his hips begin to move. the rhythm, much like before, is jerky and uneven. desperate, claiming. this is not for love that it takes, but lust. desperate, violent lust.

and when she speaks, he snarls. kronak pushes his fingers back into her mouth, presses them into her tongue. a warning flashes across his eyes. but the hand around her throat does not tighten. instead, it moves down, to grip her hip. to hold her still as he claims, as he takes.

“you are so small, little hunter,“ snarls the hive knight. his fingers leave bruises upon her hip. “and so wanting. feel how easily you open for me. will your body take my eggs as easily, i wonder? will you moan when they fill you?”

Oh yes, she understood. She understood so well, and she would behave for Kronak. She'd hang on to his every word.

Her mouth parted easily to allow its fingers to enter, muffling her as she moaned his name. Khalom obediently began lapping over chitinous fingers, back arching as Kronak pushed his way inside her. Light, he was big. It didn't hurt, not really, thanks to his careful preparations, but that didn't mean there still wasn't a slight pleasurable sting as she was stretched open far more than any toy or partner she had had before. His cock was, well, completely alien to her, with the bulbous head pushing its way through her.

She briefly pulled off his fingers to take a deep breath in, her eyes half closed, and shuddered. "Khalom," she breathed heavily, "my name is Khalom..." She wasn't sure it would care, but it had given her its name. Seemed only right to return the favour.

She didn't keep her mouth empty for long, opening it again to take his fingers back. Tasting herself on someone's hand, that was nothing new, but the strange texture and shape of his fingers was something to be explored. Her tongue passed over plating and poked at gaps in the chitin, as if she were mapping him out via touch alone.

[midnightfiireworks]

by his mother's light, she is such a perfect little mate.

not by hive standards, of course; by the sword, she would barely be considered above an acolyte. oh, she put up a pretty little fight, of course. got enough spitfire in to count as an attempt. but she bends far too easily. she writhes in his touch instead of fight. if the right hand could see it now, she would be displeased.

but the right hand is not around. by all accounts, she is gone. so is his mother. there is only immaru, and he is nowhere near. he is safe, guiding them from afar. so there is no one to stop him from taking everything he wants from this little hunter.

“good girl,” purrs the knight once more. its fingers crook inside her, searching for that bundle of nerves. “see how good it can be, when you behave? when you listen to your betters?”

it fingerfucks her for another few moments before its own need becomes too great. he pulls himself free with a soft groan. his cock is already slithering up, searching to fill what his fingers abandoned. and when it finds that warmth, that wet, that tightness, kronak moans.

she parts for him so easily, undoubtedly thanks to his administrations. and as much as he wants to just slam into her, by the mother she is small. it lifts its hand, slipping the fingers it just freed from her cunt into her mouth. easier to distract the both of them.

“i could spend a lifetime buried inside you, guardian.”

Khalom continued to melt under his praise, almost purring herself. She couldn't, not really, but her tiny, fluttery moans made a good approximation.

For her, this was why she liked to be an utter brat with some of her partners. Sure, the frustration in their eyes and utter exasperation with her tomfoolery was fun, but this was her real prize. For after she was forcefully put in her place, she adored the praise, the acknowledgement that she was being a good girl for them. The soft words, the gentle touches, the petting of her hair, it all made her quiver with joy and pleasure in equal parts. She was surprised, even in her happy little sub-space, to be getting such treatment from a Hive Knight, but far be it from Khalom to look a gift horse in the mouth.

If she only knew what it was thinking about her; she might have come completely undone.

Khalom grunted as she was pinned, pushed further into the downed tree, and took a moment to be thankful that she wasn't entirely naked after all as her armour kept her from feeling the jagged wood from pressing uncomfortably into her back. She doubted that kindness had been the Knight's intention when he ripped her pants, though, and he certainly wasn't being gentle with her as he worked her open. Not that she minded. She nodded when it spoke of purpose, groaning loudly, her knees feeling weak. In this moment, in this space, she was completely his.

She could feel it pressing its cock against her thighs, seeking her cunt, but her moan was cut short as the Knight, as Kronak, tightened his hand around her neck. Her eyes went wide, and her throat bobbed beneath his palm. She hadn't been expecting a name, and it took her by surprise. "Kronak," she groaned immediately, begging, "p-please, I-I need this..." She can't move, not with it pinning her, but she still attempted to push her hips forward, towards Kronak.

[midnightfiireworks]

kronak cannot help himself.

it purrs as the little guardian finally submits. as she finally learns her place, and allows it to take what it wants. his fingers buried deep in her wet and warmth, working her open. how kind of it to do so. how tender. it is not obliged to do so, after all. it is but a lucent hive, a knight with cruelty and light interwoven in its soulfire.

but she is being such a good little hunter. she has played her games, and she stopped when he decided enough is enough. such a good girl. such a beautiful, well behaved girl.

“that’s it,” growls the knight. it presses its body against hers, using the weight to effectively pin her in place as its fingers begin to thrust up into her. its movements are jerky, uneven. there is no rhythm for her to find comfort in, no steady beat for her to grow used to. “that’s a good girl. you know where you belong, don’t you? you know this is your purpose.”

his cock slithers forward, the tip dragging its lewd fluids across her thigh, up towards her dripping hole. kronak snarls, and thrusts his hips blindly against hers. he wants her. it needs her. it needs to fill her, until there is nothing left.

“beg me to fill you, little hunter. and use my name.” his fingers tighten around her throat, just a little; a warning. “kronak.”

About half her brain had shut off when the Knight had grabbed her throat and taken control. With the praise, the other half fizzled out too, and Khalom very happily settled into sub-space.

She moaned before it even pushed its fingers inside her, nodding as the Knight purred his praise. Yes, yes, she saw, she knew, that this would be the outcome between them. It was very clearly in charge, and she was weaker the party. She could be good. She very much wanted to be good, now.

Her gaze dropped when she detected movement, catching sight of the head of his cock glistening in the shadowed hallow of the tree, and she groaned softly in anticipation. It didn't look like anything she had seen, not even some of the stranger toys one could find for sale on the VanNet. She was impatient too, eager to see and feel how the Knight would fill her up with himself.

Then its fingers, already a generous size for someone like her, were pushing past her folds, and her eyes fluttered shut. It barely needed to tell her to moan, it already felt so good to have the ache in her cunt alleviated just by its fingers, but she listened, she obeyed. "K-Knight," she begged softly, bereft of a name to call him, moaning, "please..."

Some distant part of her that still had some wherewithal warned her against getting too loud, for the moment. This was the Throne World after all, filled with Lucent Hive, Scorn, and perhaps other Guardians. The latter two would certainly cause an interruption to this moment, and she didn't know what would happen to her if another Lucent Hive came across them.

[midnightfiireworks]

“good girl,” purrs the knight. its fingers lighten their touch just a hair against her clit, unseen circles gentler now than before. his chest vibrates with a gutteral sound. “good girl. see what happens when we behave?”

behind his makeshift mark, kronak begins to stir. the head of its cock peaks from between the vesica that sheaths it. already, lubricant has begun to shimmer in the dim light. already, kronak is hard. there is nothing he wants more than to bury himself inside this little awoken and fill her to the brim. alas, it knows it must wait.

she is pliable, between the light that heals and the paracausality in her veins, but she is no hive. she was not made to take him as a witch can.

and so it shifts its fingers back, splitting her with all the tenderness a knight can manage— which, to be entirely fair, is not much. the tips of his fingers brush over her entrance, prod. test. and then slowly push inward. a snarl escapes as the warmth and the wet encase his fingers. it takes all it has not to throw her down and ravage her as a proper hive should.

“moan for me, little hunter.”

Right, it stopped putting up with her bullshit faster than any other partner Khalom had had before.

She squeaked in startled surprise as the powerful hand squeezes ever so on her throat, the claws a reminder that, yes, she was the weaker party here. Even as her Void Light rose in response to the sudden adrenaline rush, her eyes were now dark with desire-- or as dark as an Awoken’s bright eyes could become. She was stock still as he ripped her pants to access her crotch, equal parts shocked and impressed that it tore through leather as easily as she tore through paper, and her throat bobbed beneath its hand as she swallowed.

Khalom found herself unable to look away from his eyes as he fingered her cunt and clit, a quiet moan escaping her lips. Bright blue Awoken eyes locked with bright blue Hive eyes as she began to shift her hips, not to get away, but to rub against its hand. With each promise it gave, fucking her, breeding her, filling her with eggs, she moved her head in tiny, rapid nods.

“U-understood,” she whimpered softly, breath fluttering.

[midnightfiireworks]

the little thing is playful. he doesn't much care for it.

he snarls in reaction to the finger upon its face, and feels something in him snap. if this forever youth wants to play games, then she should have sought out an acolyte. perhaps even a thrall, if she wanted to push her luck. but not him. not a knight of savathun's throne world.

quick as an asp, it releases her wrist. the hand falls with her, to find her throat. fingers squeeze; not hard enough to snap bone. not even hard enough to bruise the tender muscle beneath. but they squeeze, claws digging into that lavender skin as a warning. a promise.

“it is cute you think you have a choice.”

the claws between her thighs shift, to grab a fistful of fabric. the crotch of her trousers rip with an awful sound, and kronak tosses the now-scrap aside. its three blue eyes never leave her face. even as his fingers find her slit, even as they press and rub against her clit.

“you belong to me, little hunter. and i am going to fuck you until you realize that. i am going to breed you until you break. and i am going to fill with you my eggs and cum until there is nothing left of you but me. do you understand?”

For many, sex and violence were one in the same.

That wasn’t quite so for Khalom. For her, it was an extension of her playfulness. Another way for her to tease laughter out of people, which was something she felt was important in the increasingly dire times. If not that, then it was another way she could annoy people by not doing what they asked of her, until they decided to get violent with it, and she was put in her place.

Khalom had a feeling that it was going to be the latter with the Knight.

She hissed as it gripped her thighs and tore through the leather and cloth of her pants. In the back of her mind, she was aware that it called this place his “mother’s” throne world, and she filed that information away for later. Right now she had something more pressing, literally between her legs.

The hallow of the tree gave her some purchase, and Khalom dug her feet into the ground to lift her hips off its claws. “Mhmm, no,” she breathed, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna.” She fixed him with another smile and, with her free hand, reached out to boop its face. “But it’s cute you’d think I’d submit that easy.”

Oh yes, Khalom may not have been thrashing limbs and biting teeth, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her own brand of violence.

[midnightfiireworks]

a cocky little thing, isn't it?

these terran risen often are. he does not remember his time in the arcology; that life belonged to the previous knight who wore his name. but something in the back of his mind itches at the confidence, the false bravado. it teases of laughing humans and stonefaced titans, their strangled screams wafting not far behind.

many of its brethren desire illiciting the same screams from these risen, and kronak is no different. its enemies will fall on his blade. his love of the broodmother ensures that none will be left standing. but this risen puts up no real fight. she offers no violence. how delightfully simple.

he pushes his hand between her thighs, fingers gripping the soft flesh of one. there will be bruises there, later; a darkening of purple flesh beneath sharp chitin. good, it thinks. he will mark her. it will show all who this little risen belongs to.

“i do not need to earn the right to breed you,” snarls the knight. it steps forward, half-pushing, half-carrying khalom into the hollow of a large downed tree. “you have come to my mother's throne world. you have given up any claim you might have had to deny my claim on you.”

the hand between her thigh shifts, and two fingers press against her. claws pierce the cloth, stopping just a breath from the guardian's tender flesh. his chest rumbles with a deep, dark chuckle.

“beg for me, little one.”

Her shoulder ached for a moment as the Knight lifted her in the air until Light rushed to strengthen her muscles and bones. Khalom struggled in its grip, worried that, despite his words, she was about to rip to shreds. Forget her own death, Khalom couldn’t bear the idea of Lucid being crushed because she did something stupid! She--

Khalom gasped as it groped her, not with the intent to harm, but with the intent to pleasure. Even Lucid was stunned as he hid in that space Ghosts went when they de-compiled. Her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest, and it took her almost an entire thirty seconds before she could think a coherent thought again. She knew nothing of Hive sexual activities, and she had never heard of a Hive willingly coupling with anything non-Hive (though some of Drifter’s comments did make her wonder).

This Knight, though, he clearly knew what he was doing. It knew exactly were to find her sensitive bits. Hell, it knew where the clit was, and there were still some cis men who didn’t know that! Clearly he had done this sort of thing before.

She took another fluttery breath as she got her thoughts in order. It wanted her to earn forgiveness, huh? She looked down at him, a dazed smile on her face. “Y-yeah?” Khalom stammered, cocking her head to the side. “And what exactly do I gotta do to earn that, Big Guy?” She didn’t have much leverage at all, but she tried to swing her hips back playfully and press her thighs together.

Khalom ignored the waves of flustered disappointment coming from Lucid, though she did agree with him that this was probably one of the more stupid things she had done, right after trying to slap a Knight’s ass.

[midnightfiireworks]

kronak watches, unphased, as the little hunter begins to play with her words.

she reminds him of the acolytes in the castle; the forever-youths who jump and dodge, who leap into impulsivity and allow themselves to follow through. they are playful in a way their mother admires; clever, too. but, just like this hunter, they also do not know when to stop talking and allow the tides to cool. 

“no hard feelings,” echoes the knight. it lifts her wrist to be above his head, to lift the hunter first to her full height, then on her tiptoes, and then so she is dangling just an inch off the ground. its mouth stretches into a lipless smile. “but that does not mean you are forgiven just yet—”

its free hand slips lower, to push itself roughly into the space where her legs meet. the middle two fingers rub along the unseen slit, thumb pressing in the area above her clit. only the stubborn leather of her trousers separates chitin from skin. it earns a low growl from the knight.

“you’ll have to earn that, little one.”

Aw, fuckberries.

She could feel Lucid's panic through their bond and it took a lot of concentration not to let it bleed through. She would not panic and flail about like a rabbit in a snare, even if her pulse was through the roof.

"Aha," Khalom laughed nervously as she tried to play it cool despite the fact that a massive Hive Knight was holding her stick-thin wrist in its hand. "You're pretty speedy for a big guy, ain'tcha?" She flashed him a smile, a confidence she didn't really feel, and gave an attempt to tug her hand free. "Well, joke's on me then! Should've known better than to mess with a big, strong Knight like yourself. No hard feelings??"

Despite Lucid's-- and okay, hers too-- fear, the fact it had spoken to her and not just ripped her arm off was promising. Khalom knew that there were some Lucent Hive and Guardians who were, if not friendly, had uneasy terms of trust between them. Maybe this one would let her go, or she could convince it not to hurt Lucid in exchange for throwing her off a cliff for attempting to smack his ass.

[midnightfiireworks]

the little thing thinks it can flee! how exciting! how delightful!

with a soft cackle, misriiks drops onto four limbs. his lower two arms remain raised, tucked against their side, while upper arms and legs push themselves to move as fast as possible. they are no hatchling in the ways of the hunt; many lightbearers have fallen to their spear. many more will. (this one will, too— just not the same kind of spear.)

they know the way lightbearers move. he has seen them flee the battlefield with the same gutso they charge at his people. they are not afraid. they are not so easily outdone. and so they skitter forth, mandibles clicking like a preying cat.

and like a cat, the marauder is ready to pounce. his legs stiffen their muscles as he approaches; his lower arms extend, nails digging into the ground. it is all the extra support they need as they push themself forward. two hands extended, claws reaching, reaching for that blessed leash.

Khalom didn’t know much Eliksni beyond some basics, but she was fairly sure she understood their tone. The game had been agreed upon.

She leapt back as he leapt forward, nimbly dodging out of the way. Popping out of her roll, she spun on her heel and grabbed at the threads that lay hidden just beyond her fingertips. Strand erupted from her hand, and she grappled forward, using the momentum to give herself a head start. But there was no fear in her movement, no desperation. A peal of laughter escaped her “pretty lips” as she ran, Khalom truly enjoying the moment. This sort of near-flying run was one of her simple joys in life.

She was fast, but she did carry a weakness. Her long, Hunter cloak trailing behind her like a leash of a dog.