Chapter 34
The female insect's overly bony hands caressed the male insect's cheeks inch by inch. The male insect had scattered silver hair, thick, long, drooping eyelashes, a straight nose, pale lips, and shallow, quiet breathing.
He was even thinner than he was six months ago. Six months ago, he still had some flesh on his cheeks, which made him look exceptionally young and naive. Now, all that was left were thin bones, which hurt people's hands.
Celtic stared for a long time before leaning down, pinching the male insect's chin with one hand, his eyes gradually darkening, and slowly lowering his head to cover the male insect's lips.
The crisp scent of bergamot fills the air, followed by a light floral base that is subtle yet lingering.
When he was a young male, Hill was very attached to the female insect, and liked to snuggle into her arms to sleep, enjoying the feeling of being tightly wrapped and held.
If the Marshal can't come back one day because of work, he will be greeted by Little Hill's sweet talk. What should I do if I can't sleep without the Marshal?
But after leaving the female insect, his sleeping posture was extremely proper, with his hands clasped together in front of him, the whole insect sinking into the soft Tencel silk, serene and beautiful.
The male insect was not sleeping soundly. It seemed to sense something and was trying to open its eyes. Its thin eyelids fluttered, and the Marshal released a little pheromone to soothe it. Gradually, Hill stopped struggling.
He certainly wouldn't wake up, because Celt had just used an inhaled sleeping pill when he stroked his cheek, and he would sleep soundly until dawn, unaware that a female insect had arrived in his bedroom in the middle of the night.
Celt cradled the male insect's head in his large hands, caressing his eyebrows and eyes. It was a gesture of complete control. The sleeping male insect was oblivious, his jaws were forcefully pried open by his thumb, revealing shellfish-like teeth and a barely visible tongue.
Celtic bent down and probed inside, searching inch by inch for his lost territory. For the past six months, he had spent every moment in this yearning and madness, but now that he had finally gotten what he wanted, he was strangely calm.
When faced with a long-awaited feast, one doesn't want to devour it recklessly, but rather to savor it slowly and carefully.
Celtic moved his other hand down, separating Hill's clasped hands in front of him, forcefully inserting it between the male insect's fingers, interlocking his fingers with his, and tightly grasping the male insect's slightly cool hand in his palm.
The female insect's body was burning hot, and the sleeping male insect instinctively flinched, trying to retreat, but was forcibly held and unable to escape.
At the same time, it takes in the male insect's breath with increasing force, going deeper and deeper with each attempt.
The sleeping male insect is even helpless, trying to push away again and again but failing, its lower jaw is grabbed and forced apart, and it is forcefully plundered and devoured, its palpable upper jaw licked and then its throat deeper inside.
That's too much...
The feeling was like being swallowed from the inside out, causing Hill to unconsciously gasp for breath, her breathing becoming rapid. The liquid she couldn't hold back slid down her thin jaw, down to her slightly protruding Adam's apple, and was caught in her mouth just before it landed on her disheveled nightgown.
His Adam's apple kept bobbing, but it was firmly under control, as if it were about to be sucked out from under his thin skin.
Until the male insect's breathing finally calmed down, a thumb covered in thick calluses rubbed against it, wiping away the last trace of water.
When they separated, Hill's lips were swollen and red, his sideburns were disheveled, and there were obvious bruises on his Adam's apple and neck, which greatly satisfied the female insect's possessiveness.
He marks his territory so that all the females know who he belongs to.
A flame of near-anger ignited in Celtic's chest, but alas, it could not linger.
Before dawn, Celt applied repair fluid to Hill to remove the traces and re-entered the open hatch. In the narrow passage, the Imperial Marshal once again put on his cold mask. No one knew what unconventional things the strict and austere Imperial Marshal had done in the dead of night.
When the Starbound was first built, the core module had such a secret passage. It was later handed over to the military and discovered by Celt. Dick guessed that it was left by His Majesty the Insect Emperor to listen to the political figures of various stars.
But this enormous starship was originally a gift from the Insect Emperor to the Insect Queen.
At six o'clock in the morning, this enormous starship floating in the universe began a new day, with its joints beginning to radiate new life and be injected with powerful energy.
Countless documents flooded onto Marshal Celtic's desk like snowflakes, but before that, he needed to greet Prince Sirius with a good morning.
This is the female insect's duty.
Hill was the one who wanted to choose a queen, and Nathaniel followed for some unknown reason. Cyrus had a subtle grudge against Nathaniel, and he would interfere wherever Nathaniel wanted to go.
The amorous Prince Sirius had not yet awakened from the gentle embrace of the submissive woman, and Celt had no intention of lingering any longer, so he bowed in greeting before the villa.
"Your Highness, good morning. I have official business to attend to. I wish you a pleasant day." His voice was calm and deep, every word strictly conforming to the behavior in the Empress's Handbook, uninteresting and cold.
Sirius leaned against the bedside, letting the female companion attentively dress him, shaking his head in assessment: "What a perfunctory job, Marshal..."
The submissive gently suggested, "If Your Highness needs it, you can ask the Marshal to come back."
As the future ruler of Celts, he certainly had the right to be willful. Apart from war, no matter how urgent the official business, it should give way to the ruler.
Sirius: "Don't you think it would be even more terrifying if Marshal Celtic took notice of me?"
The woman was taken aback for a moment, then realized it made perfect sense.
At 6:30 a.m., Celtic turned on his work and switched on the monitor in Hill's bedroom.
Hill is a male insect that gets tired easily. If he is even slightly tired at night, he is unlikely to get up the next day. Even if he is not tired, he likes to stay in bed. But this time, he was awake while the male insect was usually asleep.
He... had a physical urge.
Celtic put down the documents in his hand and frowned deeply.
This is normal. Zerg genes make them extremely warlike and fond of reproduction, so it's perfectly normal for adult males to have needs. Therefore, the simplest way is to choose a female to solve the problem.
For example, Nathaniel had dozens of female slaves with him, while Cyrus, though he did not, could have any female insect refuse to have sex with him simply by beckoning with his finger.
So what about Hill? Will he go find a female insect?
Another female insect.
Celt's gray pupils gradually narrowed into vertical pupils, and the insect leaned slightly forward, a posture a female insect would adopt before attacking.
Fortunately, no.
After the male insect realized the problem, it remained silent for a long time, as if this lack of energy was a disgrace that it disgusted it to the extreme.
But he didn't disturb Bright or the other female insects, nor did he let it go unchecked. His body compelled him to take care of it, and he ultimately closed his eyes in shame and chose to do it himself.
The shadow in Celtic's eyes lifted slightly, but Celtic soon realized that something was wrong.
The male insect was unable to resolve the problem smoothly. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour, forty minutes passed, and the male insect still could not resolve the problem.
His arms had started to tremble, and the clock was about to strike eight. Without prior notice, either Bright or the doctor would come to check on his condition.
He couldn't let the other insects see him like this—
With this anxious mindset, his movements became increasingly rough and violent, yet he could not find a way out, and finally, at one point, he rudely bumped into something.
“Hmm…” the male insect let out a weak moan.
The pain caused the male insect to curl up in the blanket, arching his back and revealing a section of his fair and slender waist. He was breathing rapidly and painfully, and his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat.
The problem remained unresolved, and he could no longer endure the pain. He angrily slammed his fist on the bed, feeling desperate about his powerlessness. Physiological tears, born of the pain, slid down his eyelids.
The snow-white bed was stained with water, faintly tinged with blood.
Celt abruptly stood up and strode out the door. The female officer in front of the office couldn't understand why the usually composed marshal was moving at such an almost out-of-control speed. She mistakenly thought something was wrong and Dick quickly followed. However, Celt simply walked all the way to Hill's door.
Bright stood guard at the door, reaching out to block his way.
"What business does Marshal Celt have with His Highness? His Highness is still asleep. If there is anything, I can inform you after His Highness wakes up."
Bright was Hill's best friend and the most loyal bodyguard by His Highness's side. He stood in front of the door, still exuding the arrogance of a male insect despite his height disadvantage.
Celt stared down at him, the 3S female insect exuding an unparalleled aura that could terrify any insect at any time, but Bright did not budge an inch.
Those cold, gray eyes that often appeared in posters and videos around Hill were a million times more terrifying in reality than in the videos and pictures. The pressure was so great that even the male insects couldn't handle it.
At one point, Bright even thought that Marshal Celtic would rush in regardless of his future and everything else.
But no, after a brief moment, Celtic turned and left.
Brett instinctively leaned against the wall, using it for support to stay upright.
He simply couldn't believe that Hill could share a room with Celt for half a year. This female insect was so terrifying, it seemed like she would tear the male insect apart at any moment. It was too horrible.
Celt moved step by step away from the core chamber, away from the helpless male insect that couldn't even solve its own problems.
He couldn't go in without Hill's permission.
"Prepare the solitary confinement cell," Celt said in a hoarse, low voice.
"Solitary confinement?" Dick's eyelids twitched. Solitary confinement was usually set up by the military to punish female insects who disobeyed orders. It was windless, lightless, and gravityless, and could deal with any situation that got out of control.
In the past six months, the marshal had occasionally lost control and locked himself in there, but he hadn't done so for several months because—
But the marshal's situation was very wrong; he only had the duty to accept orders.
"yes."
As the completely dark environment was illuminated by the first glimmer of light, the male insect that appeared in the projection remained curled up on the bed, his body bearing deep and shallow wounds he had inflicted himself, the pain causing him to tremble.
The half-insect claws shattered the shackles in the confinement room, and dents and cracks appeared on the sturdy walls. The heavy breathing of insects could be heard in the darkness.
He already understood where Hill's problem lay.
Six months ago, on the planet Ticas, to prevent the male insect in its budding stage from marking him, he did not allow Hill to be freed, imprisoning and blocking the little male insect for a long time.
Hill is no longer able to solve his own problems on his own.
He has normal, even normal, physical activity, but he cannot lose control.
Celtic closed his eyes. Regardless of whether Hill had ulterior motives for approaching him, he had indeed paid a heavy price—the price of physical damage.
This would be an unbearable disgrace for any male insect.
At noon, the male insect, having recovered slightly, washed up and changed his clothes with the help of the robotic insect, ate a little food, and then enjoyed an afternoon tea of exquisite cakes and desserts.
Celtic keenly noticed that he hadn't drunk any water, only tried a few nuts.
Celtic was not the only one to discover this; Bright, who had always been closely following Hill, also discovered it.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Bright advised, "Hill, not only do male pheromones work on females, but female pheromones also work on males. If that still doesn't work, why don't you try a female?"
For the male insect, the female insect acts as the tool to guide him to release, which is the quickest and most convenient tool.
At that moment, Hill was looking at the starry sky. Upon hearing this, he raised his chin, his lips tightened slightly, and he slowly shook his head.
"You know, I hate female insects."
“Of course I know, but your health is the most important thing,” Bright said to Hill, unusually emphasizing his tone.
After a long silence, the male insect finally spoke slowly: "I will consider it."
At 8 p.m., the male insect went to sleep on the doctor's advice, but he did not fall asleep. His breathing and other vital signs only became calmer after 10 p.m., indicating that he had fallen asleep.
Celtic waited patiently until 11 p.m. before stepping into the metal tunnel.
This time, he noticed that Hill's lips were drier, paler, and even cracked than before. Was it because he was unwilling to see the doctor for privacy for the past six months, or because he couldn't be cured?
Celtic's eyes were deep, and he bent down to take the male insect's labia majora into his mouth with water in his mouth.
Hill seemed to sense something and didn't want to drink the water, instinctively trying to avoid it, subconsciously understanding that this represented pain.
It must be so uncomfortable that it continues to resist even in its sleep.
Selt shook his head and pushed away, spilling water everywhere and wetting the pillow and blanket. He frowned deeply.
"obedient."
As Celt's deep voice faded, the male insect indeed stopped struggling a moment later.
Celtic was startled, his heart struck by something soft yet bittersweet for a moment.
Even six months after their separation, Hill may have hated him to the core, but she still subconsciously obeyed him when she heard him speak.
Hill stopped struggling and let Celt feed him mouthful after mouthful of water, his Adam's apple bobbing as if resignedly awaiting the onset of pain.
Just like countless times before, he endured Celt's excessive actions while muttering "Marshal" under his breath.
But this time seemed different from every time before. Water soaked his robe, the scalding heat seeping deeper and deeper into the dampness, the droplets rolling down so quickly, from his Adam's apple down to his collarbone, and then his abdomen—
No--
No—we can't go any further—
The starship maintained a comfortable temperature, which felt just right when I was wearing a bathrobe, but became a bit chilly once I lost that covering, and my skin broke out in small goosebumps from the cold.
Fortunately, the warmth, like water flowing over him, chased after the water stains and comforted him.
Until the injured location in the morning.
No, not there. It hurts, it really hurts because of the injury...
Male insects are pampered by the entire society and the house insects, and generally do not suffer from the damage of female insects. Their skin is white and clean. Hill, because of his illness and lack of sunlight for many years, is even paler. Under the light, he looks like a piece of fired white porcelain.
Against this fair and translucent skin, the wound became even more noticeable. The bright red wound was not large, and it looked extremely pitiful because it had not been treated with any medicine.
At this moment, under the influence of the pheromones continuously emitted by the female insect, the situation from the early morning was repeated.
This familiarity triggered the male insect's subconscious reaction to pain; he fumbled for ways to use violence or—
The outstretched hand was gripped by the female insect's large palm, her calloused hand rubbing against his wrist bones before she opened her palm upwards and pressed him firmly into the soft sheets.
In his dream, the male insect dreamt that he was being manipulated, transformed into a fully drawn bow. The bowstring was stretched to its limit, too taut, while the light above his head shone so brightly. Although he was now a bow, he retained the shame of an insect, wanting to shrink back and not be drawn open.
The bow's owner, however, thwarted his idea, delivering a heavy blow as he attempted to escape.
He was thrown into the hot spring.
The hot spring is so hot, and I have a wound; it will hurt.
That's strange, why doesn't it hurt?
It really didn't hurt; on the contrary, it was very comfortable. The temperature of the hot spring wasn't high, just slightly higher than body temperature, and the water seemed to follow him as if it had a spirit.
He floated on the surface of the hot spring, letting the current envelop him and drift with it to the highs or lows of the water.
I really want to soak in a hot spring forever, then the pain will go away.
He had this vague idea but couldn't put it into practice; wanting to stop the flow of water, he couldn't help but reach out and grab the water.
How ridiculous! How can water be caught?
He inwardly mocked himself for always having such unrealistic fantasies, but his hand seemed to have actually grasped something. What was it?
So familiar, so familiar. I want to wake up from this absurd dream and see who this is, but I can't wake up.
He vaguely realized who it was; after all, six years had etched it into his very bones. Yet, his reason coldly told him that it couldn't be that insect.
Celt may appear humble and self-aware, but no insect understands his pride and arrogance better than Hill. He would rather use inhibitors as a test subject than kneel at the feet of a male insect, and only after fighting for a bright future will he be willing to follow his ambition and life to choose a male insect.
He was the object of envy and longing for countless female soldiers. He completely obeyed his own ambitions, consolidated his power, and was absolutely unwilling to bow down and submit.
How could he possibly agree to this...?
Doing something like that.
The male insect gently pressed its hand against Celt's cheek, groping silently in its sleep, as if tracing the female insect's facial features and expression.
"ah......"
The male insect's crimson lips parted slightly, making a soft, rustling sound, whether from a bizarre dream or from their passionate embrace under the lamplight, it was hard to tell.
He was indeed sick, and even with the assistance of the most compatible or even 3S female insect, it took him more than an hour to intermittently resolve the problem.
Celt sat on the edge of the bed, the male insect's waist still unconsciously arching, its long legs trembling slightly as if in spasm.
Celtic cupped his hands together and massaged Hill's calf, which was spasming from excessive excitement.
Just like six years ago in the primeval forest of Planet Nuka, the young male insect lay supine by the lake, bathed in the hazy moonlight, and whispered to him, "My legs hurt..."
Hill, Hillgard.
If it weren't for the fact that he had changed his hair and eye color, he would have recognized him long ago. But if he had the same long hair as the insect king and the blue eyes that represent royalty, no insect would believe that he was a low-ranking male insect from a fallen family.
He was indeed that young male insect from back then, and he was indeed saved by himself.
"I like the Marshal..."
"Because the marshal once saved my life..."
How much of it is true and how much is false?
The female insect's calloused hands encircled the male insect's long, slender legs. Compared to the young male insect six years ago, he hadn't grown much; he was too thin.
When she first came to his side, her cheeks were still a bit chubby.
Hill was still not feeling well because he had been given too much water and had just experienced a loss of appetite, but there were other physiological issues that were bothering him.
Selt reached out and lifted the male insect up by the waist. The sudden suspension caused the male insect to instinctively curl into his arms. Was this a subconscious dependence or just a habitual action?
The female insect's strength allowed him to lift the male insect with one arm, while using the other hand to adjust the water temperature. Once the bathtub temperature was adjusted to a level that would not stimulate the male insect at all, Celtic stepped into the bathtub first, and then held the male insect in front of him.
The gentle flow of water once again enveloped the male insect, and as he floated and sank, he leaned against the female insect's chest. After patiently soothing her, water that was a deeper color than clear water flowed from the bathroom.
The warm water dripped onto the female insect's hand, slipping through her tightly clenched fingers.
Celt finally understood why he didn't like to drink water. Even with a female insect as a guide and having just experienced oral sex, such a simple thing still dripped intermittently for ten minutes.
If it's just the male insect alone, it will take longer and be more painful.
Even under his care, the male insect's temples were still dripping with fine sweat. Celt waited for the male insect's furrowed brows to slowly relax before taking him out of the bathtub, taking a soft towel from the shelf, holding him tightly, and putting him back on the bed.
The bed was a complete mess, making it impossible to sleep.
Celt wiped the male insect's long hair clean with a towel, then carefully dried the water stains on the male insect's body from its forehead to its ankles. Finally, she held the male insect in her arms, changed it into a brand new bathrobe, and put it in a brand new quilt.
The male insect's tightly furrowed brows finally showed signs of relaxing, unlike the deep sorrow that had clung to him the night before.
Celtic went into the bathroom to clean up the remaining mess.
The cold water washed over Celtic's hand as he looked at the female insect in the bathroom mirror. Her cold, calm eyes seemed to never be moved or disturbed by any insect.
However, a dried drop of liquid still clung to his chin.
He had taken a course on serving male insects at the Imperial University, but had never put it into practice over the years. In fact, he was not as the outside female insects thought that he would never kneel down for male insects.
He is a pragmatist, and if one day it comes to life, ambition, or that position, he will make the appropriate choice.
Becoming the Queen of Cyrus is, to some extent, a win-win situation. The Queen of Nathaniel, Hessen, controls the Second Army, and only Celt can surpass Hessen. If there is no better insect candidate than Celt in the competition for Cyrus.
Celtic needs S-grade male pheromones; without them, he will die.
He would certainly bend over to receive pheromones if necessary, but he would never come here to please Hilgard while he was engaged.
Celtic stared directly at the female insect in the mirror, at those cold eyes, but the mirror would never provide an answer.
Celtic closed his eyes to suppress the nameless agitation; he shouldn't have gone this far.
The starship had a simulated sunlight system. As the first rays of sunlight fell in the morning, this day was different from any of the previous 180 days. He was no longer afflicted by bloating and pain; his body felt refreshed and comfortable.
Hill reached out and touched the blanket.
Clean and fluffy, warm to the touch, it is a special kind of Tencel from a certain planet, made by a race with low combat power but very agile claws. Its advantages include being warm and comfortable to the touch.
But it was definitely not the bed he slept in last night.
There were insects that came by; they were Celts.
He could smell a very faint scent of gunpowder. Although Celt had completely absorbed the smell beforehand, he could still smell it because they had once been intimately connected.
He had been here, Hill confirmed with absolute certainty.
Whether it was the attraction of pheromones or genuine attraction, the fact that he came here is enough.
Even the most cautious and cunning prey can be captured if it starts to covet the food in the trap.
Hill's hands, hidden under the covers, clenched tighter and tighter, and all he had to do was tighten the rope little by little.
Wait a little longer, just a little longer—
Author's Note:
It's pan-fried buns! Delicious pan-fried buns! I love them, it's a pity my jj can't expand the text. I'll eat more pan-fried buns after this is over! [crying emoji]
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