@storyofthedoor did not just do prompt requests, she actually gave me a FRAME STORY for them, and I died three times before I could finish laughing long enough to start trying to figure out how the hell to pull this off. And then I figured someone would be pulling something either way!
- kendy/skunzite/seventeen,smut ok
- kendy/luna/wreck,smut ok
Frame story is CT Kunzite and CT Minako, Luna, Diana, and King Endymion, written by her. XD
Vee sitting up in bed, staring at phone. Kunzite in bed with her, arm around her, laying down.
K: quit staring at things that light up I’m asleep.
V: Not asleep, you just talked.
He sits up to look at what she’s fixated on. She types gleefully.
K: … what? Is that?
He grabs the phone out of her hand and starts typing furiously.
K: I GOT YOU ONE BETTER THAN THAT.
V: NOOO my phone my ask.
What he types.
K: “King Endymion / Luna / Wreck”
V: You can’t type stuff like that about your king!
K: Anonymous internet I do what I want.
She grabs the phone back and types furiously with her tongue out, he watches what horrible thing she writes.
K: That’s not even POSSIBLE…
V: It’s the internet. There’s porn of it ESPECIALLY if it can’t exist!
What she types.
V: “King Endymion / Silmil Kunzite / Seventeen”
K: Not gonna be porn though with that at the end.
V: It could be porn in Europe. ^_~
The phone makes a pinging noise. Vee looks down at it. Her face lights up.
V: Oh!! That was - fast –
Her face goes horrified. Kunzite’s face lights up. She hands him the phone between thumb and finger, barely holding the dirty dirty corner of it. He gleefully holds out grabby hands.
V: …………. It’s for you.
He holds the phone, but they both stare transfixed at the screen.
After the haze of pleasure slowly cleared and he looked down at the beautiful odangoed girl in his arms, catnapping peacefully, Endy realized that he was actually in the middle of a slow-motion trainwreck.
For a moment, his heart froze in terror: for the many, many long years ahead of them, he hoped damn well he’d still be Artemis’ drinking buddy and poker night rival. And then it got worse: for the many, many long years behind them, as much as it was the subject of endless jokes about him and cats, he’d never even once considered– even knowing about the one astrophysicist– and so, how could he forgive himself? Had she been pining all these years, afraid to ask? Was the famed Joined Court strangely xenophobic or speciesist in its casual polyamory?
Vee recoils from the phone and can’t look anymore.
V: AAaauuu how are you still reading? Poor Endy!
K: They got the ‘wreck’ part right.
K: And seems like Luna enjoyed it. c:
And then the blood drained from his face and took the terror with it, leaving a hollow feeling in his gut. The ultimate potential consequence to his inability to stand strong against the woes of a crying girl that he loved in any way revealed itself to the King of Earth–
Now Kunzite holds the phone away from him and makes a XP face. Vee wasn’t reading but now she wants to know!
V: What?? How did it end??
Small Lady was about a month away. King Endymion really didn’t know if Mauan reproductive biology worked like humans’ or like cats’… and that meant Diana could well be Small Lady’s half-sister.
They both squirm and flail.
V: I should have just stayed away. I see Diana every day I don’t want to think about this.
K: …. So bad….
He grins at her and elbows her.
K: So worth it.
Outside their room, a little fuzzy black paw pats on the door and begins to push it open.
Both Vee and Kunzite jolt to stare at the door.
Luna pushes the door open, Diana is sitting on her back.
Di: Hi!!! C:
L: You guys are sleeping in today! I thought we had work to do! I was going to talk to you about-
Vee is traumatized by sudden Luna. O_O Kunzite makes the :| face and throws the phone over his shoulder out the window.
Luna and Diana stop talking. O_o …
The phone makes the looooong drop out of a high (modernized neo tokyo) castle window.
V: aaaAAAAA THAT WAS MY PHONE!!!!
Vee has put a bathrobe on and is shaking Kunzite by the shoulders.
V: YOU THREW MY PHONE OUT THE WINDOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT IS ON THAT PHONE-
K: Ye- NO…
V: WE HAVE TO GET IT. BEFORE ANYONE-
Luna and Diana are ready to help!!!!
L: We can help you find it! It can’t have gone far!!
Vee and Kunzite, together, launched out of bed and running for the door.
V: NO THAT’S ALRIGHT LUNA WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK IT’S TOTALLY OKAY!!!
Meanwhile, outside, strolling around the castle gardens on a nice morning, King Endymion comes across an abandoned phone that looks like Vee’s phone???
He picks it up, and the screen is still unlocked, and it says ‘new notification’ so of course he checks it out, and his eyes widen.
He woke up in two Elysions simultaneously, and instantly knew he’d misstepped. He hadn’t even been aiming for Elysion at all– he’d just taught his former self how to use Tuxedo la Smoking Bomber in defense of his daughter and the past version of his wife, and had only meant to check and see exactly how well his younger self’s psychometry was developed in comparison to what he remembered of the time.
Obviously that hadn’t worked, and he reached up to rub his eyes under his mask, and Elysion resolved, collapsing the uncertainty into one reality. Strangely, he could hear people in the background, and picked himself up off the forest floor and crept ahead to see what was going on–
–and came across the outskirts of the little town that had thrived, back in the days of the Golden Kingdom, between the castle and the sacred buildings that housed Helios, the Maenads, and the Great Library of Magic. His eyes widened, and he stepped backwards, only to feel the point of a sword at his back.
He was already calling his strength into his hand for its inevitable attack release when the owner of the sword spoke. “You’re trespassing on holy ground,” the voice came. “Who–”
That voice. He knew that voice so well: that voice from his past and his present, that voice that belonged to the person he loved so well as a child and an adolescent in the Golden Kingdom, that voice that was raised in frustration so soon before the end, that voice that had haunted the senshi during the days of the Dark Kingdom, that voice that thereafter had come, ghostly and level to advise him from the depths of a stone.
The King turned, tears in his dark ocean-blue eyes behind the white mask, and he let the forming attack disperse. Kunzite was behind him, still threatening with the sword, solid and firm in his ready stance. He sounded young– he looked so young. “Kunzite…” he barely breathed.
The teenaged Shitennou stared, sword lowering abruptly. “En– Endymion?” he asked tentatively, then glanced back over his shoulder toward the library, and looked back at the impossible King, the man’s bearing and age, and fine but strange attire, bespeaking a future he couldn’t possibly know. He knew without asking, but he had to confirm it– but the fierce pride when looking at him had already settled in his bones. This was the king that his beloved prince would one day become, this king who held every bit of love in his eyes as the boy he protected with the entirety of his body and soul. His king.
King Endymion, smiling with such wistful affection, reached up to undo the ties of the mask behind his black hair, showing so much more clearly the long, long life between himself and the boy prince that Kunzite knew to the depths of his heart, showing the glittering of unshed tears. “I don’t know if this is a dream,” he said, voice low and uncertain, “so I don’t know how much I should tell you– but I want to tell you so many things…”
Kunzite could only stare, reading more things in that face he could read so effortlessly, in those eyes that clearly held grief and longing, than the King could have said with words. “…oh,” he said after a moment, voice so low it was nearly inaudible. The young man swallowed. “Can you– can you tell me when I… when I made the mistake? No– no, you can’t, you can’t change your past.”
The King, reaching out to touch Kunzite’s young face, smiled with so much pain– but the contact, the empathic connection, the King’s power– was familiar in the unconditional love and acceptance that the boy had given him since the moment the child Kunzite had come to guard the toddler prince. It’s just that the power was so much more overwhelming, a golden flood of centuries of emotion and longing and triumph and grief. Kunzite leaned his face into the touch, then dropped his sword and took the King’s hand in both of his, and the King could feel from him the depths to which Kunzite would sink to protect him, the fierce and fiery love he had for him, the desperate desire to know when he could possibly have failed him by dying.
Abruptly, a wild light entered Endymion’s eyes, and the rushing golden embrace of his power swept Kunzite up in a sudden, reckless, bright hope. “We’re already interfering in the past. Why not again? Why not spare you the heartache, why not give you a chance to fix what happened in my timeline? Why not give another us a chance to live? To live and create another history? It happens when I’m seventeen. Trust me, even if the world tells you I’m under a spell. Trust me, even if everything I say seems to indicate I’m being tricked, being lied to– trust me and stay by me, and trust that even if everything still goes wrong and everything dies, we’ll all come back.”
Kunzite’s gaze lifted abruptly in surprise, and the hope was infectious, but toward the end, his heart seized in alarm and a growing sense of horror. He hadn’t just died, then. The mistake wasn’t only one that cost him his own life, and cost the Prince his first guardian.
“We’ll all come back,” Endymion continued, earnest and strong, “and if you stay by me, if you believe me even when it seems like the world will burn and I’ll be lost to you forever, if you keep the others with me– if you only trust me– we’ll be together again. Don’t believe the rumors about the Moon. Don’t believe anything you hear about them spying on us, about them intending to invade– trust me, trust the Moon– trust Venus. Work with her, once you’ve met her. Help me, guide me, don’t try to prevent the love I’ll find– try to help me find a way to get our people to believe in an alliance with the Silver Millennium. And when the solar storm hits a couple of years from now, after I’ve met the Princess, ask for the help of the Queen of the Moon. We don’t have enough power on our own to ward off the demon that will turn the people of Earth against the Moon… against me. They do. And they will help. They only want to help us thrive. They want to take nothing from us. Believe me. Trust me. You might be able to save everything– and if the demon overwhelms even the allied planets of the Silver Millennium, and nothing is saved this time except souls– there will be another time, and we’ll find each other again, instead of– instead of–”
Kunzite reached up to press his fingertips to the King’s lips, startled at his own motion but keeping it. “I understand,” he said, voice breaking. “I believe you. You’re alive in front of me– and you have the Moon’s long lifespan, haven’t you? I believe you. I trust you. I won’t forget.”
The King couldn’t help himself. There was only a flicker of warning before he kissed the young man’s fingertips, catching his hand in one of his own, and the other hand rose to brush Kunzite’s bone-white hair away from his face.
There was a bright laugh from the direction in which Kunzite had glanced back, and the laughter of other boys, familiar but so much younger, and Kunzite and King Endymion both looked that way before glancing back at each other. Time’s up, their mutual understanding stated.
And then there was no warning. Endymion leaned forward suddenly, giving the past version of his guardian a fierce, possessive kiss, full and deep. “I won’t stop trying to get you back in my own timeline,” he said against the young man’s lips, voice nearly a growl, and then fading into something achingly hopeful as the thousand-year-old King began to dissipate into golden glimmerings in the air, “but you damned well better make sure there’s a better future in yours.”
Kunzite watched until there was nothing left, his fingertips pressed to his own lips in incredulity and overwhelming confusion.
And then a thirteen-year-old prince crashed through the underbrush and into Kunzite’s side, the impact nearly shaking the wall that was his oldest guardian–
–and Kunzite fell to his knees and captured his prince in a crushingly tight hug.
Prince Endymion squeaked. “What’s wrong?” he asked, flustered, even as he hugged back hard.
“Nothing,” Kunzite murmured against the boy’s hair. “And nothing will be, either.”
“Oh god, Venus, what are you even reading…” King Endymion asked the air, breathless and choked up, the heel of his gloved hand coming up to scrub at his eyes and partially crushing his mask. “Who even wrote this…”
He took the long way back around to the palace, pocketing the phone so he could give it back to her once he’d composed himself.