#thecryomancerfrost

Send "xxx" to force my muse to have an orgasm

“Fuck--!” the sudden shock of pleasure causes his body to seize, making him drop from the low branch he’d been settled on and landing in the grass where he squirms for several seconds until finally going still. There’s silence for a few seconds.

[[ Battle Meme #12: A drabble in which my muse is forced to fight together with someone they hate. Sent by endsjustifymeans and thecryomancerfrost . ]]

 -----

Hotaru would remain calm as usual, but this was a very emotionally taxing situation to be in -- as much as Hotaru had emotions that could be taxed.

Unfortunately, the three people behind him were the three he probably felt most about, and those feelings were overwhelmingly negative.

The Guardsman walked at a brisk pace set by his height and his stress level, and also to remain in the lead -- he was the Commander, he was the one who should be in charge. Seniority didn't mean anything -- most certainly not. That would have meant, technically speaking, that Havik would have been in charge, and that would end in the perpetual destruction of the universe.

Hotaru could hear Darrius's smooth chuckle at something Havik had said quietly; the white-haired man’s jaw was already clenched, but it shifted as he ground his teeth.

"Are you all right?" came a voice out of the blue and into his ear. The taller man started, surprised when Dairou spoke; he had not heard him approaching from behind. It wasn't fear that gripped his gut when he realized he could still fall prey to Dairou's stealth - it was more resignation than anything; the feeling of defeat.

Hotaru did not turn to regard the man. He didn't reply, either -- not because he was trying to be cold, but rather because the cold in his throat froze any words that otherwise would have gushed out. And that was exactly as it should have been, sans the secret desire to say anything – that tinge of sadness he felt for a hypocrite was the utmost in hypocrisy.

"Hotaru," the familiar voice of his old friend chided, making Hotaru clench his fists slowly.

"Why are you," the younger Seidan managed to murmur before he stopped, teeth gritted, still looking forward.

"We don't have time for petty grudges--"

"It's not petty!" Hotaru hissed venomously, distress heard in his normally controlled tone. He immediately (and self-consciously, or pridefully) looked behind at the two others, who were now silent in shock but whose faces (or lack thereof in one case) suddenly grew very pleased for their different reasons - Darrius's self-righteous mockery did not bother Hotaru as much as the excitement in Havik's eyes.

The four had stopped in their tracks at Hotaru's outburst. Hotaru continued to stare at the other two as if daring them to speak. They didn’t, and everyone resumed walking.

"I know," Dairou admitted in his eternally tired voice. The regret Hotaru heard in his former commander’s tone should not have meant anything to him; regret did not undo crime, or betrayal, or disappointment. Besides, Hotaru knew that Dairou was not sorry. If Dairou were sorry he wouldn’t have escaped during the prison riot. If Dairou were sorry he wouldn’t make a living as a serial killer. If Dairou were sorry he would have died trying to restore his honor—

“—I know, it’s everything to you,” the middle-aged Seidan could read Hotaru so well; no one else could read Hotaru at all. And he spoke in that voice – that wise one, once reassuring to the Commander, which was now infuriating. Once upon a time, Hotaru thought that Dairou knew everything, but now Hotaru knew better. Dairou had been a plaster saint all along.

Don’t patronize me, Hotaru wanted to demand, but he was better than that and wouldn't snap twice. Anger and hurt were detrimental inefficiencies that did no good, only harm – Dairou was a prime example of letting passion cloud the bigger picture: not in the murder he committed, but in thinking that his punishment was somehow unjust; for not seeing that Darrius had been the one to hire the man who killed his family – or, worse, for knowing and still not caring.

Hotaru had to stop thinking about it. He lightly bit his cheeks, nostrils flaring briefly.

The mercenary next to him sighed softly. “There’s a hit out on you. For good money.”

Before the white-eyed guard could even begin to turn his head around, Dairou continued. “It’s not Darrius.”

The soldier opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Dairou continued. “But it’s good money. I thought I’d let you know.”

“You have my word, I’m not going to use them at all… Nice shower.”

“ My dear Frost,

how are you this lovely evening? ”

“I don’t think this is trap, come on… Or are you scared of me?”