Prompt: Kankri/Porrim having a good old fashioned black romp. (The specifics and rating of which I leave up to you.
“You are certain of this, are you?” Porrim asked, and herthroat rumbled noisily. It wasn't exactly a sound that matched theslightly unsure tone of her voice. What she said, and what wasdriving her were almost two completely different things.
Kankri was perceptive, even if too filled with all-consuming angerto filter it properly. But he was getting better at it, and hesuspected that Porrim's drives weren't exactly in synch with what shethought. People thought that rainbow drinkers were romantic figures;dashing and tragic beings driven to drink blood and tenderly lappingat the veins of a lover.
“I am certain,” Kankri said, laying against a human-style bedbuilt for Porrim's size, because expecting her to be able to sit on acouch built for the scale of him or a human was absurd. She was fartoo tall, much too large, and too thickly voluptuous (and in thespecial sense of trolls, who tended to be more extreme in their bodytypes than humans were) to fit on a human couch. He doubted her legswould even be able to avoid slipping off such a smaller bit offurniture.
She lay atop him, not so much straddling him as her thighs,enormously big and extremely firm, squeezed the entirety of his lowerbody. They were both dressed, if a touch lightly, but theirexcitement was obvious. Porrim's bulge coiled against his belly andthigh, teasing at the general area of his nook. He was doing thesame, and it was clear that his bulge was proportionately larger thanhers, relative to the respective sizes of their bodies. She shiftedher hips, slow and heavy and only a hint of the urgency she waskeeping hidden, and he panted, unable to stop himself from slidingagainst her. Coils of muscle bigger than his arm kept him pinned andhe made a good show of pretending to try to wriggle free withoutactually putting any effort into it.
Porrim smiled faintly, the thickness of her lipstinted a brilliant jade green. Already she'd left a trail oflip-marks over his front, mainly trailing down towards his waist, andwith a few bite marks where she'd taken the opportunity to indulgesome other hungers. Even withher towering over and around him, her bulge slithering fiercelyunderneath her dress, and her form situated at an angle that heactually couldn't see much of her face over her large rumblespheres(a posture that was hard to maintain and Porrim worked hard to getthe look just right),he knew the need seething in her, stored up until the right moment tounleash it all, and he felt the impish urge to stoke it.
He leaned up, forward,raising himself as much as he could. Seeing an opening, Porrimloosened her leg's grip of him, and as soon as he was up enough to beable to look her in the eyes thanks to an adjustment in angle, sheclamped her thighs firmly down on him again. “Trying to escape?”she said, raising an eyebrow and trying to get into character. TheSeductive Head Rainbow Drinker; it was a persona she enjoyed carryingout in these little games, much as she liked him to be the SnarlingBloodbag Who Won't Own Up to It. Kankri, for his part, liked to tweakher snout a bit in these games, push it as far as he could, and beconstantly pleased at the influence he had over her.
Control. Not being just atoy to someone, not the mutant prize. This was very important to him,and she tailored their games accordingly.
The shift of herhips so that as much of her was pressing against him as possible, thehitch of her breath as she felt him writhe beneath her, her teethvisibly lengthening as he smirked at her; oh yes. She had it bad.Even now he could feel her adjusting her grip on him so she wasfeeling as much of him as possible and exploring him through touchalone. She knew all his body intimately, better than anyone saveLatula and perhaps Meenah: the size and ridges of his bulgealong with the curious aspects of such, all the little differencesfrom a normal bulge from his mutations and the sea-dweller aspectsthat cropped up all over his body, and especially the effects ofmutantblood genetic material. It heightened the senses, turning atouch into a skin-searing dance of ecstatic extremes, and ramped upher already fearsome libido into pitch passion demanded that claws bedragged, his body be positively ravaged, andit said something about her iron-clad control over every slightgesture and body language that he was one of the few people who couldactually tell she was so wired up.
He would never haveactually told her this, because it would spoil the lovely blackromgame between them and a main rule was that you had to make everythingneedlessly complex and figure it out for themselves, but he admiredher self-control. He really did. Kankri had not had a pleasant life;he intimately knew all the most terrible and vile things that couldhappen to a troll with a... bad culler.
('Don't think aboutthat', he told himself, trying not to think about purple lips andalien thoughts slicing into his brain and feeling like he was a dool,all porcelain and false perfection and someone's property. 'Focus onPorrim'. He untensed, leaning into her comfortingly heavy form, andperhaps it wasn't a coincidence that trolls viewed a motherly formlike Porrim's as protective and fierce.)
And, because of that, hevalued self-control above almost any other virtue. Not acting on thefirst impulse that came into your mind. Forcing yourself to be betterthan your instincts wanted you to be. He'd spent his life caginghimself, the anger hissing out of every slight gap even when he wastrying to be kind. And so Porrim, grappling between the constantpulls of her own monstrous hungers and the demands of being ajadeblood... it was admirable.
No point in telling herthat. It'd spoil the game.
He looked up at her now, obsidian-dark skin shimmering like waterunder sunlight and beneath it came the pale glow; fearsomely bright,and a primal part of his mind recoiled in terror. Her tattoos tintedit a pale and almost sickly green, and this glow was like a mark ofthe unnatural, the fearsome, the frightening. She didn't look, rightthen and there, like a troll.
Porrim looked like a monster.
He also understood the way she gripped his arm so tightly andthen made her claws to retract out of his skin, her bulge coilinginto his nook with such need that it actually hurt before sheremembered herself, or when she kissed his neck and he could feelher jaws struggling not to bitedeep-
He gazed into Porrim's eyes, a hint ofjade just visible behind the glow, and he saw a friend. He saw akismesis. But he also saw something out of forgotten dayfire stories,a nightmare out of the most blood-drenched and fearful days of theirhistory. He'd seen her ripping imps to pieces and screaming herfrustration that they had no blood to drink or bones to crack; thestruggle between actually using those saws or to just tear with teethand claw and horn.
'This is Porrim Maryam', he remindedhimself, trying to focus on certain details. 'She is not a monster.'Concentrate on the long and towering horns, so tall that itemphasized her maturity; don't think about how every inch of them iscruel and hooked, how she could drive them into his chest and yankout bloody streams of flesh. He raised a hand and traced his clawsagainst the carvings
Her claws just brushed against his chin, sliding under the softplates and lingering there. The sharp edges rubbed against theborders between the chitinous lines of his jaw and the softer fleshjust tinted a shade of red too bright to afford him the dignity ofself-determination – and for a moment Kankri was glad Beforuswas gone before he remembered that he ought to mourn all it couldhave been, but the system that would see him at the mercy of everyonearound him was gone, and he did not mourn that – and her claws dugin just right, at theplaces where his underdeveloped armor had enough give for him to feelthe faint sting of her scratch.
“Softshelled,” Porrimchuckled, with just the edge of a growl in there. And a hunger theretoo, something monstrous and terrible that would make even Alternia'sbloodthirsty populace afraid. Rainbow drinkers had been fetishized inBeforus, and objects of morbid fascination in Alternia, and for llthe differences both worlds had an awareness of the dangerof rainbow drinkers. Kankrilooked up, standing just a bit back so he could actually see Porrim'sface properly over the softer edges of her own body.
Light shimmered from nearly everyinch of her, seeping from underneath her skin and pulsing through herouter armor. What should have been as pitch as her feelings gleamedalmost white instead, bordering on yellow tinged with her jade blood,and the effect was eerie. Lightwas dangerous. Brightness was death, and Porrim was dangerous.
Perhaps, Kankri mused as hedragged his blunt claws alongside her palm in a pattern that made hergrowls turn to a faint purring, it was something to bear in mind.Porrim tried to act like a culler to all of them, soothing the littlenasty edges between them and ease their arguments, calm the flares ofviolence or vacilation between them and keep them on some kind of aneven keel, doing her best to maintain a level head, and yet missingso many little details and pretending that they were not there at allif she only saw them afterwards. And for all of that, she hungeredin a way that was mostinappropriate for a culler, even if she was just acting like one.
Porrim was a killer. He looked upagain, over her curvaceous and thick form, and it was easy to mistakethe swells of muscle for just more softness. That her broad hipscould power a stride or leap to catapult herself into him, fangsfirst. That it was so easy to think of those long claws, delicatelyembroidered with faint traceries of the precious materialsappropriate to her station, flicking into his belly and disembowelinghim with hardly any effort at all. And of those fangs, just barelyvisible behind heavy lips quirked into a taunting smirk, meeting inhis throat. He could just imagine the faint click of them comingtogether, her throat flexing where she twisted up and took his throatwith it.
He did not have to imagine thatat all. Frustrated with curiosity, he had once gone into the dreambubbles to see for himself the answer to a question no one had reallywanted to know: how often, across the time lines, had Porrim actuallywound up severely injuring him, or even killing him? A vacillationbetween pitch and pale that, with troll tempers and Porrim'srepressed instincts and urges,got too violent. Or Porrim justslipping enough thatthe rainbow drinker's need to feed mixed with her own feelings forKankri in the worst way possible. Or a falling out between them thathe, even at his moments of pretending he was better than he was so hedidn't have to think about the horrors of his grubhood, knew he couldnever possibly come out ahead in.
He had seen the results forhimself. He did not have the heart to tell Porrim how badly it couldgo wrong between them, or how often. Hedid realize why, at last, Porrim frightened him from the tips of hishorns to the stubbly swimmer's claws at his toes. Why he might jerkaway at the slight shift of a momvement tht looked too much like asudden spring, or he was so keenly attentive of where her claws were.
He was a Seer. He remembered,however distantly, all the ways his blood had been spilled. Porrimdid not. After much thought, Kankri decided that it would be best notto say anything. Even a kismesis wouldn't want to know bout all thetimes they murdered you.
He extended a hand up. Past themuscular arm, just barely grazing across spiralling tattoosindicating her rank before she had left the brooding caverns to liveher own life. He slid his blunt claws against her arm in the way heknew she liked, and she gave a rumbling purr. The cadence was right,the sound was lovely, but something about it wasn't quite trollish.Well, he knew all about not being exactly what conventionalwisdom held a troll should be.
She relaxed, back arching and hairrippling as muscles smoothed out. Impishly, his claw slid out towardsthe armored edge of a large rumblesphere. His wrist twitched, hisfingers crooked at just the right angle for maximum irritation-
Porrim surged back, incidentllyslamming her broad hips into his body, to his delighted cheer. “Whatthe hell, Kankri!?” Porrim snarled, white shining more fearsomely,eyes going pure yellow and her teeth bared like daggers.
Kankri smirked. “I can't haveany vacciliation, dear Porrim,” he said, voice calm and with just ahint of teasing.
“You complete ass.” Shetwisted her hips in, bulge grinding against him so hard that thepleasure mixed into something like pain, but sweet, and sodeliciously pitch.
“Oh...” he gasped in, out,tried to find his breath. “I know you like it.”
She chuckled nastily, lightflaring even more brightly, so much that he had to shut his eyes inself-defense. Her hands settled onto his shoulders, digging in,almost enough to draw his mutant, heretic blood, this close tohurting...
Not holding back at all, save forconcern about what a rainbow drinker's strength could do to someoneso much more frail. But it wasn't about blood, and her whole bodytrembled with the effort of restraint. Porrim wasn't holding backjust because he was small or a mutant or she thoguht he was toodelictae to touch...
Not treating him like he was madeof glass was more important than he could readily explain. Heconveyed his gratitude with a hip movement, a bit of bulge twistingthat elicted a satisfied rumble from Porrim even through her angryhissing.
“Oh, you complete pain in theass,” she said, but with relish.
“Bite me, Porrim,” He daredher, menaing it in the colloiquial sense, before he realized hismistake.
She grinned, or perhaps bared hermonster's teeth. Her lips were heavy and full, and should not haveshown her teeth to such fearsome effect. They seemed to lengthen inher jaw, forcing her mouth open. “If you insist,” she saidsweetly, lowering her mouth to his neck with sudden speed, and in away that suggested that she would stop if he wanted.
He did not particularly want herto stop; in fact he wanted her very much to do it, and as they hadnegotiated, lack of overt fight was a signal in itself, and her lipspressed against his neck in just the spot she knew he liked, kissingdown on him. Her body pressed fiercely against him, her weightpushing him deeper down, and then her teeth met his warm skin andjust gently bit down, and through.
He managed to repress a slightsigh, raising his hands up to dig into her sides, which was about asfar as he could reach, producing a throaty rumble from Porrim.
Pitch, he thought with a slightlydelirious thrill as she drank from him and made some very interestingnoises all the while. Pitch, not too delictae not to treatroughly, yes, YES, good.
Things, thereafter, shortlybecame rather louder. Latula, who had the bad timing to accept Kankrias a roommte, shoved a pillow over her horns and grumbled, doing herbest to ignore the noise.
“Of course I had to get themtogether,” She complained later to Meenah, who just laughed.
