apsaraqueen:

what the body knows

A gift of smut and angst for the wonderful, magical @coppercrane2, one of the mods over at @ssminibang, and also? Very much one of my favorite people. I hope you enjoy this, Charlie!

title: what the body knows
fandom: Sailor Moon
characters/ships: Rei/Mars x reincarnated!Jadeite
rating: R for explicit sexual content below the cut, along with canon and non-canon character death

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

Keep reading

Dear UsaxMamo Tumblr:

Spring got me feelin’ a certain type of way ❤️ Please bless me with recs for wholesome UsaxMamo fics!

xoxo,

Jessica

@daikon1@floraone@brownsugarheartattack@tinacentury@antigonetwo@beej88@queenrisa14@idesofnovember@uglygreenjacket

more or less

Back with another ficlet. Another mod gift, this one for @galaxylily over at @ssminibang❤️

title: more or less

fandom: Sailor Moon

characters/ships: Venus x Kunzite

rating:PG-13?

Sometimes after he’s touched her there lingers a taste in his mouth like hot metal. How he imagines the taste of the earth’s ancient core, or of stones that sometimes fall from the sky.

more or less

…

The sun lays a heavy palm on their heads, pressing their eyes closed, but even so the cloudless sky throbs painful blue behind his eyelids. Beside him she lies dozing, or daydreaming. The air smells strongly of salt and cypress; green sea glimmers around them. He hears murmurs of others on the barge, the creak and groan of sun-frayed rope.

“Is this the water you were born on?”

Daydreaming, then. Kunzite doesn’t open his eyes.

“Yes. On a barge like this.” Her bare arm grazing along his, the fine cut of muscle, sweat-damp. “The priests said it was an auspicious birth. This sea is holy.”

“Of course they did.” She sounds amused. “They probably weren’t thinking of your mother. Surrounded by men mouthing incantations, laboring on a rickety old boat.”

He can feel her breathing down along his side where they are pressed together shoulder to knee, the light quick blooming and closing of her ribcage. He imagines her expression, serene with only a single marring thread of tension sewing together her fair high brows as she thinks about this, this thing to which Kunzite himself truthfully has never given a single thought.

“My father expected it.” A breeze moves over his face as he speaks, pulling the words up and away from him, thinning them apart. “Here that is a woman’s duty.”

A hum, flutter of tension from her bicep through her calf like a current, and then nothing more. The linen of her gown scratches his side. She wears the loose drape and few jewels of this place, and probably the men on the barge think she is a mistress, highborn and languid, kept for pleasure. She could be that, her skin is smooth, limbs long, feet dainty; she looks like a lady his mother might have chosen, a vessel to carry his seed to sea. She yawns when tired, perspires in heat, eats and drinks and swims the waves. Hard to sense it unless you get close: the lambent rushing of power off of her, as though her blood is pressed from stars.

Sometimes after he’s touched her there lingers a taste in his mouth like hot metal. How he imagines the taste of the earth’s ancient core, or of stones that sometimes fall from the sky.

When darkness traverses his eyes he knows she has lifted her arms to the sun, is perhaps shading her face, or examining her hands. On her thumb always there is a soft beaten metal ring she had pulled off his finger, sometime and somewhere after they first met, in the gardens of starry jasmine or in a camp tent or in her bed, Kunzite can’t recall. It was his father’s ring until he died and then his mother’s, and then his after that for a long, long time. He doesn’t know why she took it. Why he’s never asked for it back. The backs of his eyelids slowly pulse a deep, fleshly red. One side of his body cools, bereft of her strange heat.

“I don’t think I could be a woman.”

When Venus speaks the wind seems to stop. His imagination, of course, and yet, her words - resound.

“I don’t expect you to be less than you are,” Kunzite replies, honestly.

He senses her gaze swinging onto him then, the cut glint of her golden eyes. He keeps his own eyes closed, body loose and prone; he feels her curious, predatory attention as the tip of a claw. She doesn’t speak. Overhead the gulls scream. After some moments, her small, cool hand closes over his, and he feels the dig of his own ring into his knuckle. It’s not gentle.

“Or more,” she murmurs.

Kunzite doesn’t know what he hears in her voice, then: if it’s the sound of warning, or only regret.

options

another day, another gift! this one’s for the marvelous @leondaltons, one of the hardworking mods at @ssminibang and truly one of the loveliest people in this little corner of fandom. enjoy!

title:options
fandom: Sailor Moon
characters/ships: Minako/Venus x reincarnated!Kunzite, with a side of reincarnated!Nephrite 
rating: R for some slightly limey content

Khaleid knows better than to try and keep her to himself when she’s in this state; it would be like trying to put a mountain lion to bed, or swallow the sun.

options

At night they go to a bar Nacio recommends. Dark, cramped, and dirty, just like all the places Nacio likes, “run by Argentines,” he says dismissively, “so the asado’s not bad.” He comes along, too, “to get them a seat” but Khaleid suspects it’s for dinner on their dime. He orders expansively: ribeyes, chorizo, morcilla, salad to share. Two bottles of Salta red. The three squeeze into a table for two on the sidewalk, where it smells smoky from the grill out back. Nacio and Mina’s knees bump under the table; Khaleid turns his outward, facing the curb. He lights a cigarette, watches the crowds on the street thicken curdlike, chattering and laughing. He feels out of place and terribly old. It’s past midnight. Music - music everywhere.

“I like this wine,” says Mina, a bottle and some later, a little drunk or pretending to be. Not easy for Khaleid to tell, even among friends. Her eyes are bright, hectic. “A lot. What is it?”

Nacio grins. “This, madame, is a noble Bordeaux varietal made in the Argentinean style.” Across the street, a busker sends a pointedly hopeful twang of his guitar in their direction. “Tobacco, vanilla bean, ripe black cherries.” Their friend looks thoughtful. “A little horse shit.”

When Mina laughs her head tips all the way back and it sounds like two glasses striking each other on the edge of excessive force, ringing and anticipatory. It’s how she laughs when she wants you to know what a good time she’s having, and very likely she is, snatching bites of beef and vinegared tomatoes out of their pink juices, washing them down with mouthfuls of wine. Khaleid knows better than to try and keep her to himself when she’s in this state; it would be like trying to put a mountain lion to bed, or swallow the sun. She has innumerable moods, some even tending to tranquility. Later he’ll have her, in the turmeric light staining the dark hotel window. She’ll come down slow, arms wound about his neck, her gaze warming. She’ll touch the hair escaping his tail, his temple, her thumb on his cheekbone; sighing, soft.

Or perhaps she’ll kick open the door and yank him inside, press him to the wall and slide her hand down his trousers. She’ll be insistent, combative, the slim knife of her heel grazing a warning along his calf and her teeth at his ear; always knowing the exact mileage between where he is and the dark precipice to which she can drive him. Her hands are small but not soft. They’ll close around his collar and pull, backing them up to the nearest flat surface, and anyone looking in from the outside would think he was the one walking her to it. She is ardent but precise: desire has its cadence, its thrums and pauses, and like any player, even when in its throes, she can’t help but play. The knowledge that she goes further with him than with anyone is more than enough. Khaleid knows better than to ask her to be who she can’t be.

After they’ve done she’ll stretch herself out along his side and fall deeply asleep, instantaneous. Like a light being flicked off, throaty little snores emptied between his shoulder and neck. Or she’ll stare up at the dark ceiling a moment, eyes flaring wide, then fling herself resolutely into the shower, the room billowing with the steam off her skin. Neither of these options leaves him colder than the other. When he’ll press his nose into her discarded clothes they’ll smell like the must of her body and her floral, indolic perfume. Breathing in he thinks he smells it even now, through the waft of charred meat and warm asphalt, and he can draw a direct line between the selves occupying this table, in this moment, and the selves they’ll occupy tonight, later tonight, this morning. He thinks of her as the changeable one but perhaps that’s not entirely true. Within himself there are so many ways to want her.

“Khaleid?”

Nacio’s voice brings him back. Khaleid blinks, just once.

“What do you think?” Mina rests her elbows on the rickety table. Her thin gold chain slips out from the bodice of her black dress, flickering palely. “We’ve only asked you twice already.”

The cigarette between his fingers is half ash; the rest of it has fallen on his trousers. On his plate the meat has gone cold and purple and the wine in his glass is hardly much different. When he looks at Nacio he finds his old friend’s gaze traveling over him. Glittering, dark.

“Well, shit,” he murmurs. “Guess I’ve overstayed.” He stands, hands in pockets. “Enjoy what’s left of dinner.” He nods at Khaleid. “And the rest of the night. Hope I left enough for you both.”

“There’s still plenty of food,” Mina says. “And Mako’s probably asleep with the girls already.”

“Not what I meant,” says Nacio cryptically. “Anyway, it’s late. Time I got back to my pornographically beautiful wife and perfect, angelic offspring. Boring family man, you know.” He pats his pocket, where Khaleid can see the bulge of his wallet. “Buenas noches, friends.”

“Did you say this would be our treat,” Mina begins, moments after he’s left earshot. She frowns as she watches him round the crowded corner. “And what happened to dancing?”

Her hand small in his, not soft. She shifts her cool gaze to him, electric eyes questioning.

“Never mind.” Khaleid leans forward, stubs his cigarette in the bowl. “We have other options.”

apsaraqueen:

what the body knows

A gift of smut and angst for the wonderful, magical @coppercrane2, one of the mods over at @ssminibang, and also? Very much one of my favorite people. I hope you enjoy this, Charlie!

title: what the body knows
fandom: Sailor Moon
characters/ships: Rei/Mars x reincarnated!Jadeite
rating: R for explicit sexual content below the cut, along with canon and non-canon character death

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

Keep reading

Reblogging just to add the AO3 link!

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290782

what the body knows

A gift of smut and angst for the wonderful, magical @coppercrane2, one of the mods over at @ssminibang, and also? Very much one of my favorite people. I hope you enjoy this, Charlie!

title: what the body knows
fandom: Sailor Moon
characters/ships: Rei/Mars x reincarnated!Jadeite
rating: R for explicit sexual content below the cut, along with canon and non-canon character death

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

what the body knows

…

In the windows the sky is thickly concrete, a fine film of drizzle that had gone all morning and kept them indoors, and perhaps it’s only because of a brief lull in its gentle rush against the roof that he can even hear her pause, sock–footed and quiet, on her way down the hall. Feet arrested on the threshold to the kitchen where he stands facing the sink. She listens to the ripe snap of his teeth, breaking the taut skin of a plum; the back of his hand abortively wiping juice from his chin as he turns partially around. Dim light silhouettes the edge of his jaw.

“Hey,” Junin says to her, mouth full, not even looking in her direction, “it’s getting late. Eat something.”

Sunday, and so far she’s spent it in the pantry, clearing out the back for the first time anyone’s done in – years. The smell of old crumbling contact paper lining the shelves, ringed with rusty stains from canned tuna, pineapples, curry, all with expiration dates embarrassingly long gone by. Twine, cracked soup bowls, aluminum foil, a casserole someone had gifted her (bizarrely) after the funeral. Other things. Packets of her grandfather’s aspartame, the mints he nibbled when his sugar slid, protein shakes with ingredients she still couldn’t pronounce. Milk protein concentrate, calcium caseinate, 1% or less of the following: inulin, cellulose gel, magnesium phosphate, artificial flavors. What does the body know, Rei thinks, recalling how she poured down the drain half-glasses of chocolate-flavored fluid while her grandfather dozed, his belly rejecting the decoy of sustenance, patiently eating itself down to something that could be lost or wander away, float off on a breeze. Into trash bags they all went, revealing space in the pantry like new skin. When she had emerged blinking into the hall even that darkening afternoon had seemed too bright. Now here she is – and here he is. In one hand the plum, in the other a bowl with a second one. Cut up how she liked, to keep her lip balm intact.

This was what stopped her short. How he would’ve had to have seen her pickily dicing her fruit like that; how alarming, to find herself the focus of such complete and close attention.

She’s already moving without conscious thought, hand on his arm, turning him. Rei gives him no chance to see her face. Her fingers climb the shaved sides of his head, taking the slightly grown-out hair atop for purchase; her eyes fall shut as her jaw cants up, triangulating from memory where his mouth is. His small surprised laugh is swallowed down her throat. “Rei.”

What does the body ask for? Under her palms the cord of his neck, his chest and stomach are all tangibilities, warm blood and muscle, and it feels, almost, as if she’s the one who might fly away. Months ago when he’d first reached for her she’d jumped back as if scorched; it had been so long since she felt another person’s skin. Now, she sucks his tongue from his mouth, sticky plum juice off his day-old beard. If she could she’d suck the air out of his lungs. She gets her hand in his briefs, around his cock, and he does not hesitate. The fruit goes rolling across the floor when he hoists her on the counter, accidentally dislodging her hand; there’s a brief struggle of crossing limbs, she straining for him as he steps between her legs, somehow both tugging down and rucking up her short dress. It’s faster than he usually moves, unlike him to accede to her impatience. He palms her breast in a rough squeeze, ducks his head to lick the nipple. Tiny hairs rise all over her skin. When she rubs her thumb over the wet tip of his cock he laughs and gasps both at once, and it’s so exactly what she’d wanted from him without needing to ask that closed, still, the corners of Rei’s eyes suddenly sting.

“You just a little hungry, or,” he wonders, warm breath shivering across her breastbone, “you starving?”

She wants to tell him, but what’s lodged in her gullet is an animal or the selfish type of spirit (her own) she read about in childhood, devouring whatever would come out, ravenous for anything coming in. So she tells him by doing, gets a brusquer hold on him, throttling down, the rough edge she’s learned he craves. When they’re like this he’s vocal but not about his desires; always they seem matched to hers, as if he’s afraid she’ll balk. I like everything you do to me. But what does the body want? Surely there are acts he had begged from others before her, as they kissed and touched skin and shed their clothes on the floor, acts he and she have yet to perform. Clear directives and not only suggestions found in the jump of his stomach, his head lolling back to the futon in lamp light, brow strained, almost as if he’s in pain. Maybe he is. Starving the same as her, desire tamped down inside. But in his presence it’s impossible to swallow her wants, hide or make them casual. As she beats Junin off, her hand sure in a way she does not feel, he drops his face in her chest, shuddering. His fingers insinuate themselves along her inner thigh, twist away her underwear. The tip of one dipping there, barely into her sex. Maybe he doesn’t realize. How much of him she would take.

The air in the kitchen feels heavy and cool, window cracked open (broken), all that unspent water loading the sky. In her ears is the hushed mix of their breaths and she finds herself counting his, noting each hitch, each sigh. Familiar. But Junin feels more solid than anyone she has held, hips digging into her thighs, width of his torso crowding her, his head tucked under her chin in the guarded apostrophe of her throat. She has an urge to take him further into herself somehow, a sentiment that feels protective but lacks the associated tenderness: selfish again, the frank way she would consume air or water, things the body needs. When he leaks a little the friction eases, so she grips harder to compensate, drags slow from root to tip. His answering groan is muffled into her sternum, a low, defenseless thing, and her mouth goes wet. A dozen unwired thoughts light up her mind at once. The noise her father made when the hospital called – Kaidou’s lips tensely closed under her own – Junin’s thumb stroking her throat as she kissed him, imbuing her with an odd, illogical sense of safety – the deep chill of her grandfather’s forehead the time she touched it last. Going out under the eaves this morning, looking at the sky, wondering if the drizzle was rain, really, or only mist. Putting out her palm to check as if this was a distinction that mattered. Sustenance, decoy.

What does the body know? Her eyelids flutter when Junin pushes two fingers into her, long and recurving like a bow, hooking at the place where she already feels something – not pleasure, not quite – starting to take form. Something stronger and less anodyne, like biting the inside of her cheek and tonguing the resulting wound: a sharp, dizzy sensation of brilliance, copper dissolving in her mouth. Something her body already knew for itself, what was asked for, wanted, needed. The first time he’d so much as touched her hand – that recognition – instant. In that moment she had understood what was known could never be unknown. But where did that leave her without him? The broad slope of Junin’s back encompasses her field of vision, the old gray college T-shirt in graying light, his shoulder moving up and down. Breaths burst from her in harsh little pants. He shifts into focus, making no attempt to delay or tease, working the tips of his fingers into that tenderness again and again with brutal efficiency. As if from someplace far away Rei hears herself whimper.

Junin kisses the divot of her collarbone. “You good?” he murmurs. His voice ragged. “You okay?”

The gentleness in his words calls up that thing in her gullet again, another pang of hunger, and she feels as if she’s being carved wide, skinned and left out open. Any moment he could glance up and witness her. The late day shines darkly through the windows, through the gleam of what could be rain or mist or nothing at all. Her skin feels like a bruise everywhere he’s against it, throbbing and too soft to be touched. Down where she’s holding him she can feel the trip of his pulse. What does the body know? The length of his cock overfills her small hand and she wonders if when they make love this will be enough to sate her. If anything is.

“I’m fine,” Rei tells him. She licks her lips, swallows. “Go harder.”

contingency

Resurfacing with fic! A short-ish smut thing I did for a challenge hosted by the lovely folks who run @ssminibang. Prompter was the lovely @venuscrescent: Hino Rei/Sailor Mars x Jadeite, “Mindfuck.” Here goes nothing. Sexytimes follow under the cut.

title:contingency
fandom: Sailor Moon
characters/ships: Rei/Mars x Jadeite
rating: R for explicit sexual content

“Did you really come into my bedroom in the middle of the night because you trust me?” Jadeite bends his head to catch her eyes. His own are cool, appraising. “Or because you want me to fuck you until you can’t think straight and it doesn’t matter anymore?”

contingency

…

“Who,” says Zoisite, “would be the greatest lover in the Dark Kingdom?”

At first, nobody says anything; Castor and Pollux simultaneously drain their wineglasses, exchanging significant looks. Then Nephrite says, in a slightly sullen tone: “Why is this a theoretical question? And why,” he adds, growing more miffed, “isn’t the answer obvious?”

Night has fallen on Earth, and Sailor Mercury is dead. After Beryl left the High Table, dragging Kunzite with her, the celebrations have gone from boisterous to feral. There are youma everywhere the eye can reach: youma drinking, youma singing, youma fighting, youma asleep, youma coupling, youma at (scandalously) the High Table, youma coupling under the High Table. Carnelian has kicked this last at least eight times now. She’s fairly sure her heel has blinded one of the threesome, but so far nothing seems to dent their enthusiasm. She kicks again, hears a soft grunt, and looks up to meet Jadeite’s startled blue eyes.

“You’re right,” says Zoisite. “It’s Kunzite.”

“What,” explodes Nephrite, at the same time as Yasha begins to titter.

“He’sso powerful,” sighs Zoisite. “Don’t you remember that time he erected the dome over Moon and Mercury, and they couldn’t breathe for, like, minutes? Imagine if that were you.”

There is a long, uncertain pause.

“What the fuck,” says the West-king pitifully. “What’s wrong with you all? Do you know what an advantage it is, having half a dozen shadows around to do your bidding in bed? Ask anyone.”

“It’s true,” says Widow loyally. “They have so many hands.”

Thetis, who has been sitting silent on Jadeite’s thigh until now, pipes up. “It is my lord.”

Zoisite’s eyes narrow. “No, it isn’t.”

“Sour grapes,” murmurs one of the DD Girls. Carnelian still can’t remember all their names.

“What does Carnelian think,” titters Yasha.

“Carnelian used to be a priestess,” snaps Zoisite. “Obviously she’s a prude.”

That, thinks Carnelian, is not strictly true. But she shakes her head, affects boredom. “I don’t have an opinion,” she says, tossing back her long dark hair. “Why are we talking about this?”

“See? Prude.”

“I’m curious, Zoisite,” says Jadeite. She notices his wineglass is largely untouched. “Why don’t you think it’s you?”

“How dare you speak to me after what you - ” the king of the North begins in a stage-hiss, and then colors. “Wait, you think it’s me?”

“It’s not you,” says Thetis derisively. “I already said, it is my lord.”

Carnelian swallows a gulp of wine that burns all the way down. “What is your rationale, Thetis?”

The pretty youma doesn’t look at her. “My lord is a master of illusion.”

“Yes, but Kunzite,” Zoisite starts.

“No, wait,” says Nephrite. “Now I’m curious. Tell us what you mean.”

Thetis straightens, unselfconscious. “I mean, when making love, he is able to construct anything one may imagine, and make it seem as reality. Any sight, any smell, any taste, any…touch.”

“Well, shit,” says Nephrite, impressed despite himself. “That does sound pretty hot.”

“I don’t want to make love to you, Nephrite,” says Jadeite, grinning.

“Cheers to that,” Nephrite replies fervently, reaching over to clink his wineglass with the Far Eastern king’s.

“The DD Girls can do all that,” titters Yasha. “What’s so special about illusion?”

Thetis smiles. “My lord trained the DD Girls.”

Carnelian leans white arms on the table. “Isn’t that cheating?”

A hush falls all around. Even the threesome under the table goes silent.

She goes on. “How can you call yourself a great lover if the pleasure you give is only an illusion?” As she says the last, she glances at Jadeite. “Is that any better than a magician performing a trick?”

His expression is amused as usual, and entirely unreadable. He says nothing, while Nephrite hoots.

“To properly construct an illusion, one must have had the experience,” Thetis begins coldly.

Another one of the DD Girls calls mockingly, “You claim to speak for one of the Shitennou, youma?”

“Kunzite’s protocol, not mine,” the Far Eastern king drawls back, clearly enjoying himself. “I can’t fit a stick that large up my ass.” An appreciative snicker goes up from all the youma.

“We thought you didn’t have an opinion,” Castor and Pollux intone in unison at Carnelian.

She shrugs. “Nothing personal. Only theory.”

“Well, if you’re ever interested in practical application,” bellows Nephrite, leering genially at her, and she smiles.

“Handle Jupiter the way you did Mercury and I might take you up on that, hero.”

“I’m a king of heaven, not a fucking demigod,” he protests, and everyone laughs.

The king of the North has been quiet some time, gaze flitting between Carnelian and Jadeite. Now he speaks up. “Carnelian, you were friendly with Moon and Mercury as a civilian, weren’t you? Today must feel strange for you,” his voice drips like treacle, “given your history.”

Carnelian blinks, confused, but before she can respond, Jadeite does.

“We were all chosen by the Queen to carry out the great work of the Dark Kingdom.” He speaks against Thetis’s temple, but Carnelian is startled to find his gaze focused on her. His tone is bland. “Certainly none of us would question the judgement of the woman we owe our fealty.”

“Oh,” says Zoisite hastily. “No. Never. Our great Queen is wise in every choice she makes. Also,” his voice rising slightly to carry, “no doubt she must be a lover beyond compare. The greatest. In fact, let’s just stop talking about this?”

“I want to talk about this,” titters Yasha, and Carnelian sees Zoisite materialize a crystal shard and stab her in the ribs. She topples without ceremony, blood oozing from her side.

Carnelian stands up and almost immediately feels a little dizzy. Too much wine, she thinks, swaying. She sets a hand on the table for support. “I’m going to retire for the night.”

Jadeite is still watching her. “Feeling all right?”

She ignores him, makes her way out of the great room and down one of the halls. As she turns into a narrower passageway she hears the Far Eastern king make his excuses as well.

…

She’s lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. She’s tried sleeping on her stomach, her side, her back, thinking of nothing, thinking of him, masturbating. The last only left her more restless.

Cursing softly, Carnelian swings her legs out of bed, ties on her red silk banyan. She can’t find her slippers, so she doesn’t bother. Her bare feet take her out the door. Down the dark halls and passageways that twist and turn like the wind in this place. In her palm she holds a flame to guide her, but if she’s honest with herself, this is a way with which she’s quite familiar.

When she knocks on the heavy wooden door no one answers. Someone inside laughs.

She knocks again, harder this time. “Jadeite.”

Behind the door she hears silence, and then footsteps. It’s still another minute or two before the door opens and she’s greeted by the sight of Jadeite, wearing loose pants and no shirt.

Carnelian brushes past him. “I can’t sleep.”

“Hello, Carnelian,” he says drily, shutting the door.

His quarters are as she remembers them: large, minimal, luxurious. After he brought her in, Beryl gave him a promotion of sorts, and now he more or less jockeys for rank with Kunzite, though the latter still has the lead. Accommodations show Beryl’s favor, even though he doesn’t care much for material objects. Only concrete floors, an enormous bed. A handsome leather chair with ottoman, deep wood tub, and an angular block of marble that serves as a bar. Looking around, it occurs to Carnelian that she’s been on her back, or had him on his, in or on every single one of these. Except the bar. That’s new.

Thetis claps her hands in front of Carnelian’s face, and she blinks. “Thetis?”

“My lady,” Thetis says. Her dark eyes brim liquid with hate. “I apologize that we didn’t hear your knocking the door. We were - somewhat busy. How might my lord or I help you?”

“I - ” she starts.

“Thetis,” his voice comes from behind her, and they both turn to find him leaning a shoulder to the wall, arms folded across his front. “Carnelian and I have matters to discuss. Would you mind?”

“My lord,” the youma begins. Carnelian notices, belatedly, that she’s naked.

His eyes are fixed on Carnelian as he says, with inexpressible gentleness: “Get out, Thetis.”

After a moment, Thetis bows. Neither of them speak as she gathers her clothes and leaves.

“Now,” says Jadeite once the door shuts. He goes to the bar, materializes a small charcoal-dark bowl for tea and glass tumbler of water on the otherwise bare surface. The former he hands to her. The latter he leaves where it is. “What’s this about not sleeping?”

“I told you,” Carnelian answers peevishly, taking it. When she sniffs its contents a thickly green smell steams up from the bowl. Gyokuro leaves, quite good ones. “I just can’t.”

The Far Eastern king sighs heavily. She tries not to notice what this does for the lean musculature of his chest. “I should’ve been more specific. How would you like me to help you go to sleep?” When she doesn’t reply he adds, “Not that I don’t have ideas, but - ”

“Well, I don’t think drinking tea is going to help.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “It might with your impending hangover, Hino.”

She takes a sip. “I like this gyokuro.”

“I remember.”

Too close. She looks away, at the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window. It’s all snow outside, vast drifts of it, still and moonlit. It must be another illusion, of course; there’s no “view” to speak of in the dimension they occupy. But it slots in close enough with reality - they are, after all, situated around the Earth’s northern pole - that she could pass over it, unquestioning.

“Don’t,” she says quietly. “We’re not doing that anymore, Asa.”

“Yes. Because you left and never came back.” His tone is even. “Begs the question: why are you here?”

She sees he has his arms folded again. His hair is absurdly disheveled, wild, curls springing out everywhere. It makes him look like the boy king she’d first met. Somehow it’s been, what - she counts the time in human terms - five years? Six? since she’d woken up with a vague memory of a bus and little else. He had been the first person she saw when she opened her eyes in the Dark Kingdom. Her hand had been sweaty in his. The first to take her to Beryl, the first to show her the power she held, the first…

She hasn’t thought about all that in a long time.

Carnelian opens her mouth and it tumbles right out.

“Did you really do that? Use illusion when we - ”

“Ah,” he says, almost to himself.

“I know what you can do. Obviously. But until Thetis said - I never thought - ”

He waits patiently, not helping. He rarely does. After her first mission, he had told her that often the best thing was to let others be fools, and it had been good advice. But even then there had been a softness in the way he dealt with her, despite her naivete, that was like the flawed, included side of a gem; and she knows that softness remains, even as the Dark Kingdom has cut away every other gentle, foolish thing she knew in him, made sharp every aspect.

Carnelian gathers her straying thoughts. “Look, I just want to know if, when we were - ”

“Together,” he supplies.

“Together - if you - ”

“No. I didn’t.” He frowns. “Hino. How is it possible, after everything, you’re still such a prude?”

Carnelian ignores this, as well as the note in his voice that seems to suggest he considers her remaining inhibitions a personal failure on his part. “You didn’t. But - why not?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Because I didn’t need to. It was good without it.”

She tries to keep her face from showing how remarkably gratifying that is to hear. “But wouldn’t it make it even better for you? I thought illusion was your greatest pleasure.”

It’s a drug, he’d said once. They were in the bath. Better than wine, than the stuff the Queen gives us. Better than fucking. Nothing feels better than knowing your power and using it.

“It would’ve been too much.” His voice pulls her back to the room, expands into the high open space, its echoes. The same room, but different. “When you and I were…”

“Together?”

Jadeite shoots her a flat look. “Together.” He goes quiet abruptly, glancing down, as if lost in the past. Then he says, “I don’t think I could’ve stayed in control, if I’d done that with you. I don’t think…” he trails off, considering. There’s a furrow in his brow, which clears when he looks up.

“It was good,” he says simply. “I didn’t want more. I was already - happy.”

She glances away, embarrassed - for him or for herself, she’s not sure.

“Look at you,” she hears him say quietly. “How you’ve changed.”

She senses him coming closer, keeps her eyes trained where they are. There’s a spot on the otherwise flawless concrete, slightly darker than the rest. She focuses on it, and he follows.

“From that time you burned a hole through my sheets. Remember?” When she looks up he’s smiling, though his eyes don’t wrinkle as they should. “And then you stole Kunzite’s shitty ones to make it up to me.”

Now, objectively, is not the best time to note that she’s toured Kunzite’s bed recently, and he’s significantly upgraded his linens. That’s a rivalry too white-hot to probe, even for her.

Carnelian sets down her empty bowl with a soft clink. “How would I ever know?”

“Know what?”

“If you did use illusion. Keep up, Asa.”

The Far Eastern king blows out a breath. “You’re the most powerful seer in the Dark Kingdom. The strongest of the Queen’s warriors, too, except maybe for Kunzite. Stronger than me.”

“Don’t be evasive.”

“I already told you. I never used it like that with you.”

She scoffs. “And I’m supposed to trust you when you say that?”

“Let me ask. Did you really come into my bedroom in the middle of the night because you trust me?” Jadeite bends his head to catch her eyes. His own are cool, appraising. “Or because you want me to fuck you until you can’t think straight and it doesn’t matter anymore?”

For what feels like a hundred long seconds Carnelian stares at him, thinking.

Then she steps between his feet, takes his face into hot palms, and seals her mouth over his.

…

He doesn’t miss a beat. His own hands rise, skimming her waist through the slippery silk. His fingers find the opening, splay warm across her ribcage, spreading the garment apart. Her heart is thudding so loudly in her ears, she’s sure it reverberates in his fingertips.

“Show - me,” she says, words rounded, cut off by his mouth. “I want to see - if I can tell - what’s real.”

He doesn’t respond, only continues to kiss her, to take her out of her clothes, movements fluent, and she tries to remember if it was like this the first time she came to him, when they were both so young, or if his sureness is the product of all the times that came after.

She loosens the drawstring of his pants at the same time as her robe falls noiselessly around her body, leaving her in black panties. Jadeite walks her back to the foot of the bed, kicking off the pants as he goes, and he’s completely nude under. “Were you with Thetis just now?”

“You saw for yourself.”

“Answer me.”

Jadeite stops, breaks off a kiss to look down at her. His expression is amused. “There’s no need to be jealous of Thetis.”

Carnelian gazes up at him. Then she twists her foot around his calf and yanks, using the momentum to reverse their positions, throwing him down onto his back in the bed. He lands with a grunt, followed by another, as she straddles his hips.

She leans down until their noses touch. Improbably, the blueness of his eyes still astonishes her. “I’m not jealous of Thetis.”

She’s about to say more but then his hand slides between her thighs, and whatever words she had die in her throat.

He’s studying her, gaze dark and intent. His knuckles graze the damp silk of her panties, back and forth. But instead of slipping in he hooks the fabric and pulls her forward. “Come up here.”

Swallowing, she crawls up his torso, resettles. When he twists the silk aside completely, tongue slipping out to taste her, she can’t help herself, falling forward. She catches herself with elbows on the mattress, calves tensing for balance, and feels him chuckle, a soft puff of air against her sex, followed by the tip of his tongue.

She closes her eyes, shuddering at the feel of it, circling her clit. “Oh, my God.”

He licks up into her with the flat of it, fast but light the way she likes, keeping the pressure consistent even as her legs splay and she begins to move, involuntary, rocking over his chin. His blunt fingernails dig into the curve of her ass to keep her steady. 

For prolonged seconds - minutes - she has no idea - can’t feel anything but for the thoroughness of his mouth, exploring her sex. Kissing the way he did her mouth, suckling on her clit as if it’s her tongue he’s tasting, small and soft as fruit. She’s distantly aware of how noisy he’s being, making the most obscene sounds, wet smacks, low hums and grunts of satisfaction as he works her over. The coolness of the room hits everywhere he’s lapped at her and she feels so wide-open it’s unbearable.

“S- stop,” she manages, finding a sliver of her presence of mind. “Stop, I can’t - I want you inside.”

She pushes off her elbows, struggles back backward on all fours, so he can sit upright. He’s already leaning over her, tugging her panties down her legs, easing her onto the mattress. She senses more than sees his hand, working himself in long deliberate strokes. The lights are bright without harshness and every feature of his face is visible, planes flushed dark and drawn taut as a drum, lips and chin smeared shiny with saliva and her slick; she sees it all in a half-second before he’s kissing her again, other hand cupping her skull, dragging her up to him. His tongue tastes strongly of her sex, so much that she almost recoils. But before she can think, there’s suddenly the heavy, hot weight of his cock dragging against her thigh, and he’s positioning himself. The head pushing in, stretching her, slow.

She comes just like that - from the sensation of being filled, finally; the pad of his thumb rubbing her swollen clit. Her own moan startles her - a loud, breathy thing, almost comically elongated. His grip on her biceps turns into a vice as she clenches helplessly around his cock, over and over.

When she finally finishes, gasping, he drops his forehead to hers. She notices, somehow, in the drift of bliss, that he’s not moving in her. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “That was embarrassing.”

It takes a few tries to speak. “What was?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows once, twice. “You almost made me come.”

“Oh.” A shaky half-laugh escapes her. “Good.”

She waits until her muscles cease to quiver, and then, though her legs feel like deadweight, she somehow wills herself to wind them about his hips, groping at his ass, rolling up to get him deep, get him moving. He groans against her cheek.

“Don’t - I won’t last - ”

“I don’t care, Asa,” she whispers. Her fingers find his temples and smooth back the matting curls so she can catch the blue of his eyes again. His pupils are dilated wide like an animal’s, dark as glass at their centers. “I want to see you lose it.”

He hisses, face contorting, but then his hips buck and almost without volition he begins to thrust; not even pulling out all the way, instead fucking deep, as close to her body as possible. The base of his cock is wide enough she can still feel the stretch at the opening of her sex. For a few thrusts it burns, and then suddenly she’s so shockingly, copiously wet, she hears his breath go sharp.

“My…” His hand on her head, fingers curling in her hair. “My name.”

For half a second she thinks he wants her to say it, some game of dominance, submission - then she understands - remembers. “Asa.” She reaches up blindly for him, whatever she can touch. “It was Asa Junin.”

He inhales at the lee of her neck, breathing high and hard, like he’s been held underwater. “Rei.”

“Rei,” she squeezes her eyes briefly shut. He’s driving into her body so unrelentingly it’s difficult to configure speech, sentences breaking off, words fragmenting. “Hino - Rei. I was - was a - priestess.”

He withdraws completely, reaching down to pull up her knee, then grips her hipbone to keep her in place before sliding all the way back in. “And I wanted you,” he pants against her cheek, “the moment I saw you.”

“It’s - real,” she breathes. The words punctuated, each thud of his hips. “This - is real. I can tell.”

Her arms anchor around his neck as he presses his open mouth to her shoulder. Their bodies working together, now slicked by sweat. It’s almost too much - her thigh wedged between them, bending her in half, like hammered metal - nipples tight under the friction of his chest - the dull slap of his thrusts - an odd, tingling pressure, the place he’s hitting deep in her, again and again. When his hand slides around, one finger slipping past her clit, past where they fuck, tracing the cleft further up, it’s another sensation added to all the rest and she tenses under him, unsure.

“Okay?” his voice is low in her ear.

She’s trembling all over. “I - yes.”

The feeling of fullness, it’s - different. Sharper, more, entire. She wants to get away from it, wants to take more, both at once. A jolt of pleasure races down her spine as he pulls back; their eyes connect just as she realizes, vaguely stunned, that she’s going to come again.

Her eyes widen. “Junin - ”

“Almost,” he gasps, breakneck rhythm gone staccato. “I - ”

Her hoarse cry cuts off whatever he’s about to say as she flies apart. It’s much faster, harder than the first time, brinking on violence, shocking bright hot tears to her eyes.

Every part of her falls slack, her sex throbbing and raw. As she comes down she feels his pace stutter. A high, juddering sound escapes him as he thrusts a last time and pulls out, jerking off frantically. She props herself up on her elbows to watch as he spurts all over her, eyes landing where semen drips viscous, nacred, into the dark nest of curls between her thighs.

…

She’s laughing, even now as they lie in the dark; tiny, fitful, idiotic huffs against the still-perspiring side of his chest. Her stomach is quivering like she’s done a thousand sit-ups, and her thighs are sticky and sore. She feels - wonderful.

“I should clean you up,” she hears him mutter exhaustedly above her, but he makes no effort to move. She laughs again.

“Leave it there,” Carnelian tells him. “I told you I wanted to see you lose it.”

“Think I have to take back what I said about you being a prude.” He yawns prodigiously. “You’re a dirty girl, Hino.”

“Tell Zoisite that the next time he comes through.”

“Kind of making my bedroom sound like a merry-go-round, here.”

She smiles a little, without warmth, but he can’t see it, anyway.

“Both,” she says.

“Both?”

“You asked if I trusted you, or if I wanted you to fuck me.” She stares at the ceiling, allowing the whorls of concrete to resolve themselves into patterns of significance. “Both.”

She can feel his ribs rise and fall, still fast, under her cheek.

“Junin.”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever think…” she bites the tip of her tongue, worrying it between her teeth. “That maybe, this - this all is the big illusion. That the people we were before were the real ones. Who we should’ve been.”

Jadeite doesn’t speak.

“And - and what we are now…”

Quietly, he says, “We should go to sleep.”

Her eyelids flutter, moth-winged. “Right,” she replies, soft.

In a few minutes his breathing slows, evens out. She shifts a little; in slumber, he adjusts, unconsciously making room. When she touches his chest his heart beats in her fingertips.

Carnelian closes her eyes. Before she can form another conscious thought, she’s gone.

As links are highly spoopy here on Tumblr, sharing that there’s some new fic up on my AO3 for any A x Z fans on here - I think that’s some of you ;) Link is in the post below. Enjoy, hopefully.

title: on the road

rating: M (some steam, here)

relationship: Ami x reincarnated!Zoisite

era: Crystal Tokyo

summary: The road can be lonely. Jozef meets someone while on his way. Or no one. Or someone.

Brief excerpt below.

…

I was sitting by the Ponte Pietra watching them dredge the river. The machines are always going. Less now in Ferragosto, but still whirring, grinding, pulling up from the Adige things lost in the Freeze. Much of it expected 21st century bilge – but they also found something unexpected. A silver miniature, of unknown age. Its features – the caduceus, winged serpents – point to Hermes, or more likely, Roman Mercury, but what stymied the professors who gathered round, poring over the little statue’s remarkably intact beauty – was that it clearly depicted a woman. They speculated she might’ve been a priestess of high rank. Possibly a hermaphrodite. Certainly I volunteered no thoughts on the matter.

A short and sweet little piece I’ve had in mind for a bit. The guys try to get some work done but the girls have other plant. Enjoy. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13929482/1/Guy-s-Night

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32907703

I really wish I had gotten more done for this. I even took the time to plan out all 7 entries but I think this one is the only piece I’ll be doing. 

As the A/N in this one says I’m working on combating mental exhaustion. It’s not terrible but it is becoming much more prominent in my life than I cared to previously admit. Also, its affecting my writing. Hence why “Ghosts of Yesterday” has not been posted lately. I’m working on it thought I promise. 

For now, enjoy this little piece of Fluff inspired by the prompt “Frenemies.” 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13926897/1/Your-Real-Aren-t-You

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32819989

The story is back on track. Time for a flashback to show how things got so out of hand. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/7/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/80486581

The chapter is called “Discord Story.” A disagreement is about to happen to say the least. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/5/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/79665961

The rest of the girls show up to visit Usagi. Each of them with their own story to tell about what she has missed since she has been gone. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/4/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/79266364

This one has my favorite cliffhanger I have planned writing this story. I hope it all leaves you shocked as well. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/78909955

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/3/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

Someone commented and asked if Mamoru was going to be a C-u-c-k-0-l-d (spacing it out so I don’t get flagged) in this story. Um, not. I’m not a fan of those kinds of stories at all. Just as a heads up thought…he is not in a good place. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/2/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/78486925

Back for the first time in a while. My new piece is going to be my attempt at a multipart story. This is the first chapter. I’ll be addressing a lot of tropes in facnfiction and trying my best to reinvent them so its a fresh experience for the readers. Enjoy. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/78104315

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/1/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

Time for a little observation I have been noticing with Sailor Moon fanfics over the years. A common troupe seems to be Mamoru becoming a workaholic doctor who has no time for Usagi or choosing career over there relationship seems to becoming prominent. Especially for Seiya x Usagi writers trying to show why Usagi made the wrong choice. 

Seems like no one takes the time to think about what would happen if Seiya and Usagi got together. If Seiya stayed on Earth the most logical solution would be to remain an idol as i way to make a living on this planet. The fact is celebrity life doesn’t exactly have a fantastic track record of people having long lasting and strong marriages and relationships. Basically, my question is where are all the stories of Usagi getting together with Seiya and having to deal with her celebrity significant other having to do interviews or sing at a concert instead of having a romantic dinner with just the two of them? Seems move like there is a plethora of possibilities looking at Usagi becoming lonely and finding comfort with someone with a stable career as a say a Doctor than with a person who was one hit wonder in their teenage years. 

So, a little announcement. I will be a part of the Senshi and Shittensou bang again this year. I have a fic I’ve been wanting to bring together. At the same time I have another which I hope to produce down the line. Look forward to both of those. That has been your update. I’ll let everyone get back to the Hentai they were reading. 

This is the end. My last entry to the After the Cauldron Series. Focusing on everyone’s OTP, Usagi and Mamoru. It also fits in perfect with @idesofnovember​ and the third day of their UsaMamoWeek challenge. Sometimes everything just lines up perfectly. Enjoy. 

0.0.0

“It’s always better when we’re together.” – Jack Johnson

O.o.O.o.O

Sagittarius Zero, found in the center of the Milky Way Galaxy was the location of the Galactic Cauldron. A nexus in the universe where cosmic energy of the stars and planets gathers together. The only location in existence where Star Seeds, fragments of pure light and Chaos Seeds, slivers of condensed darkness were produced. When complete, these vessels of power erupt from the Cauldron, fly across space, and seek out hosts to whom they resonate. Those who bear Star Seeds will become Sailor Senshi, individuals charged with the eternal mission of preserving life and purifying the hearts of those who are swayed by the carriers of the seeds of Chaos.

It was at this location, Eternal Sailor Moon, the enhanced form of Tsukino Usagi, did battle with Sailor Galaxia, an individual possessing a Chaos Seed so powerful, the being chosen demanded to be referred to as Chaos. The power of Chaos was immense and nearly defeated Eternal Sailor Moon, but instead she joined with Sailor Chibi Chibi Moon, the spirit of the Cauldron itself awoke to prevent Chaos from throwing off the equilibrium of the universe. Blessed by the power bestowed on her, Tsukino Usagi became Sailor Cosmos, a being who was able to match and conquer the darkness of Chaos.

The battle over, Sailor Cosmos was able to manipulate the power of the Galactic Cauldron and made two commands. First, she forgave Chaos and allowed the continued production of the Chaos Seeds ensuring the balance of power was maintained. The second, she breathed new life into the Star Seeds of those defeated by Sailor Galaxia, allowing them to regain their human forms.

With a wave of her hand, Sailor Cosmos made this decree, watching as the Star Seeds of those she called friends and family were ejected from the Cauldron. In a flash of light, the Star Seeds transported away from Sagittarius Zero, leaving the Sailor Senshi with the power of a goddess alone to converse with the spirit of the Cauldron which now lived inside of her.

0.0.0

Hikawa Shrine, the home of Hino Rei, Sailor Mars, and thought to be the unofficial base of the Sailor Senshi of the planet Earth. It was here the Star Seeds were delivered and as the energy which had brought them faded, the stasis surrounding them disappeared as well. As the energy bestowed on them from the Galactic Cauldron took effect, the bodies of each of the fallen Sailor Senshi formed into place. Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Saturn, Pluto, Neptune, and Uranus all found themselves alive and well. Soon, those not native to the planet, Sailor Star Fighter, Sailor Star Healer, Sailor Star Maker, and the princess they protected Sailor Kakyuu were blessed with their human forms as well.

The last to form was the Sailor Senshi of the planet Earth. In his former life, he had been known as Endyminion but in this lifetime he was known as Chiba Mamoru. The warrior awoke to find himself in his sailor persona of Tuxedo Mask but also discovered himself full of energy. Digging through the pocket of his suit coat, he found three small shards of crystal and the four jeweled stones which held the souls of his the Shittennou, his four generals in a previous life. The last of the energy from the Cauldron had washed over the objects and caused the souls inside them to be reborn as well. In a flash of light, the four stones became Kunzite, Jadeite, Nephrite, and Zoisite and the three small shards became the guardian cats Luna, Diana, and Artemis, who had lost their lives in the battle against Chaos’ forces.

Alive and aware of their situations, the Sailor Senshi and their allies found themselves engaging in displays of affections and rejoicing. Group hugs were given, the Sailor Starlights bowed to their Princess, and the Shittennou swore their undying loyalty to Mamoru, insisting they would work to make up for the damage they had done while under the control of Queen Beryl. Though Sailor Mars was hesitant to trust the Shittennou as they made their pledge, she could not help but smile as she watched Sailor Venus lunge at Kunzite, and throw her arms around his neck and hold him tight in an effort to rekindle the love they once shared in their previous life.

As Mamoru smiled at the tender embrace of Venus and Kunzite, a shadow passed through his mind with a dark through which chilled him to the core. A simple notion of what could make this moment absolutely perfect and what was missing from this heartfelt reunion. His eyes darted through the gathering and his heart began to pound with fear as he opened his mouth and asked a terrifying question, “Everyone…where is Usagi?”

The area was immediately filled with silence as they realized she hadn’t returned. A shiver ran down as the fear they would never see Usagi again became a possibility in everyone’s mind and the very thought caused the feeling of warmth to leave their very being. The crowd’s eyes darted everywhere, hoping they would catch sight of her. Hoping she would appear from behind a tree, clumsy tripping as she rushed toward everyone to embrace and show everything was fine.

No one spoke. Everyone was too afraid to ask if she was coming back, as if even asking the question would risk challenging fate and preventing Usagi from returning home.

Time seemed to come to crawl for everyone as they stared at the starry sky. Seconds turned to minutes, turned into an hour. The crowd was afraid to move, scared to even suggest they should engage in a single action without Usagi present. Frightened over the thought one moment without her would lead to many and soon, Tsukino Usagi would be nothing but a memory.  

For Mamoru the waiting felt as torturous as being caught in the limbo of death he experienced while caged by Sailor Galaxia. Like all the Star Seeds which had been locked in her menagerie, his soul had been tied to the vessel, unable to experience heaven or hell, only an endless void of nothingness. Now, the very thought of the woman he loved not returning and having to face a future where Usagi was not by his side felt just as barren and empty. He would not sit ideally by and let such a possibility gain momentum.

“I’m going after her,” Mamoru stated firmly, knowing what needed to be done.“I’ll find her and bring her back to Earth.”

“The entrance to Sagittarius Zero appears and disappears throughout the Galaxy for seconds at best,” Princess Kakyou explained, her eyes unable to mask the pain from knowing such a mission was destined to fail. “It only stayed constant due to the involvement of Chaos. Without such dark power to keep the entrance in one place it will again become the most elusive and valued treasures in all of the universe. You could easily spend ten lifetimes living on rumors and leads and never find it.”

“Then tell me…can Usagi ever be freed from the power we felt her obtain or is her soul forever now bound with the cauldron unable to even achieve reincarnation,” Mamoru asked, wanting a straight answer. Princess Kakyuu cast her eyes to the ground, knowing the answer and not wanting to expressly say such a fate had befallen her comrade. A fire burned in Mamoru as he obtained his answer. “Well…then I will spend TWENTY liftimes if I have to and find the entrance to Sagitarious Zero. I will crawl through Hell itself on my hands and knees if it means I can look into her blue eyes for another moment. I would rather live on waning hope and fading dreams than imagine an existence that Tsukino Usagi isn’t able to inject the world with the energy she radiates. Now…I am going…you will not stop me, you will only delay me, even if it means you kill me. I will go and find her!”

The crowd stood in awe at the young man’s declaration of love and devotion. The Sailor Senshi smiled with the familiar love they shared, as the man they loved as a brother made his intentions clear. The Shittessou beamed with pride at how strong their prince had grown. Even one who had never interacted with him before, Sailor Star Fighter, stood in amazement at Mamoru’s statement.

“Wait,” Sailor Pluto objected as she noticed something out of the ordinary. “Diana is still there. If she is, then the timeline with the future of Crystal Tokyo must be in alignment. Usagi will return.”

A brief calm, washed over the crowd, but left just as briefly as another hour passed as they stood around hoping any second Usagi would appear and reward them all with a smile.

“Well, I don’t plan on waiting around,” Mamoru insisted, looking towards the Shittessou. “I will make arrangements for you all to stay at my place while you reclaim your lives.”

“You are delusional to think for a moment we are going to let you go off alone without at least someone coming with you,” Kunzite interjected, shooting a brief glance to Sailor Venus as if to say “ I may have to go with him but I swear I will return to you. ”

“Let’s get a plan together!” Sailor Mercury declared, hoping to bring calm thinking back to the situation. “ We will find a way to bring her back.

“Yes but…,” Mamoru’s attention was distracted as he noticed an object in the sky. A ball of light was approaching where they stood. In a flash of light the bubble collapsed and Sailor Cosmos was standing in front of the group. A burst of energy blinded the group and when it faded, Usagi was standing looking up at the winged form of Sailor Chibi Chibi.

“Thank you for your assistance,” The tiny cherub complimented Usagi for her help. “Chaos would not have been stopped without your help. The universe owes you a great debt Sailor Moon.”

After the tiny winged finger thanked Usagi, it flew around the group twice before jetting into the sky and out of sight. Shocked by what had just happened, everyone looked from the sky to the returned form of their friend.  

“Sorry I am late,” Usagi chuckled nervously. She could tell immediately her friends had started to worry when she had not returned right away. “I used the power of the cauldron to send Chibi-Usa and the Sailor Quartet back to the future. Did I miss…”

Usagi was cut off as Mamoru pulled her into his arms and held her close. A moment later, both Inner and Outer Senshi surrounded the couple and a large group hug took place. The princess has returned to her friends, her lover, and her family. It was a time to celebrate.

O.o.O.o.O

Hours past until it was long past midnight. Farewells were said as the Sailor Starlights and their princess left the planet so they could return to their home in hopes of rebuilding. Sailor Pluto promised she would personally make sure Diana would be able to return to the future safely. The Sailor Senshi and Shittessou insisted they would meet up tomorrow and have a discussion about how to help the men reclaim the lives the Dark Kingdom had stolen from them. Mamoru voluntarily gave his resurrected friends his keys, insisting they could stay at his place for the evening while he took the time to escort Usagi home. After many emotional moments, the couple found themselves alone on the streets of Tokyo, walking hand and hand.

Neither of them spoke, one would think they were drained from the experience they had just endured but this was far from the truth. Instead, having experienced the agony of losing the other, each secretary was fighting a desire to succumb to physical passion.

“You…,” Mamoru began as he knew they were only a few blocks from Usagi’s home. His body screamed at him, insisting he wrap his arms around her and never let her go. His logic filled brain did not listen. “You must be tired. You had an incredible experience.”

“Yeah,”  Usagi agreed as she stopped walking. Her heart ached for his touch and her body felt the same torment. “I guess I am but I don’t know how I feel. A lot has happened. It’s all a bit overwhelming.”

“I can’t even imagine. You truly are the strongest of us all,” Mamoru complimented, his very being tense with desire. He wanted nothing more than to taste her sweet kiss again.

“I was so scared the entire time,” Usagi admitted, remembering the torment of seeing Galaxia manipulate Mamoru’s body into acts of humiliation and submission. “All I wanted was to give up…all I wanted was to know peace.

“Then, you need a night to just relax. We should probably just take things slow,” He whispered, licking his dry lips. He was thirsty for salvation only she could offer. “We went through a lot.”

“Y-your right,” She lied, denying her own sense of longing. “I guess you can just walk me home and we’ll say…goodbye.”

The rest can be found here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13449794/5/After-The-Cauldron

or 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553095

Finally finished another entry into this series. Slowly Usagi finds a way to turn things around in her life. As she does, she reaches out to those who she cut out of her life. 

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13889860/8/The-Ghosts-of-Yesterday

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31568300/chapters/83247613