Story: HHL Sailor Moon

 

It's at that moment where everything feels hopeless that a true hero emerges. Stepping forward when nobody else would, to do the right thing. A brave soul, a bright soul, one who could lead the charge in casting aside the darkness to reveal only light!

"Mercury Power! Make Up!"

Ami Mizuno never imagined for a moment that she would be the one to step into that role. As she held her transformation wand aloft and said the magical transforming phrase, she felt the magic fill her body... And as it did, her need for sexual intercourse skyrocketed exponentially. As in, as a function of the time it took to enact the transformation.

Alright, there are probably some of you out there that think of 'exponentially' in a purely metaphorical term. You know that it means 'really big, rapid growth', and that's probably all most of you get right? Ami Mizuno is not the kind of girl to use that sort of language improperly. She would not use it as a metaphor, and - Listen. We need to make this clear to you, okay?

This is not a swelling of arousal like a balloon in a breeze. This is a geometric curve, doubling, redoubling, surging, arousal multiplied by itself in every frame of light. Because the moment she raised that compact and called out “Mercury Power, Make Up!”, something changed. The air itself agreed with her: She needed dick. Or pussy. Not fussy which.

A shimmer of pale blue light coiled around her like a spiral nebula collapsing into elegance. Her glasses vanished, replaced by a soft glow in her eyes that understood. That calculated the exact trajectory of her prudishness and vaporized it.

You’re thinking: “Sure, it’s magical. Transformations are always kinda hot.” No. You’re missing the rate.

Ami’s nervous hands hesitated only for 0.3 seconds before they knew exactly where to go. Her limbs moved through the choreography with recursive precision, each gesture refining the last, feeding forward into the next. It wasn’t just poise. It was algorithmic evolution.

Her gloves shot onto her arms with a snap, and she suddenly found herself wondering how it might feel to have those gloves held. Not in battle. Just... held. Casually. On a walk. At a festival.

By a boy who understood her. Who didn’t think studying late was “lame.” Who maybe liked aquariums.

Her tiara formed with a beam of ice-blue light, and she gasped - not at the magic - but because she just remembered a very unnecessary dream she had involving a boy, a science lab, and a very romantic frog dissection exercise.

She tried to shake it off. “Focus,” she whispered to herself, even as her visor flickered to life and - was it scanning for Youma or cute boys? Could it do both?

Yes. She was pretty sure it could now.

The boots slid up her legs. Her skirt flared into shape. Her transformation was nearly complete, but her mind had already spiraled. Her emotional state wasn’t just flustered - it was mathematically unsound. Her sense of longing was now expanding faster than light in a vacuum.

And when it was over - when she stood tall, shimmering, elegant, composed - 

She wasn’t.

She looked composed. But inside? Inside was a swirling vortex of daydreams involving poetry recitations, shared milkshakes, and exactly one tasteful rooftop kiss.

She cleared her throat. “I - I am the Pretty Guardian... in a sailor suit... uh, fighting for... for love and justice...”

Then she saluted smartly. "I am Sailor Mercury! Watch out youma, this super smart piece of ass is aimed right at you!"

Not far away, Minako made excited noises, and jumped in place clapping in sheer anticipation, while Saoko boggled at the sight of her daughter clad in a rather stunning blue ruffled mini that lapped around her thighs like waves crashing against a beach. In that moment, concern for her daughter evaporated into a fine mist, as she knew in her heart and her soul that she would be safe. Forever safe, for what harm could ever befall Sailor Mercury?

Mercury tapped at the visor at her head, looking around quickly with small turns of the head. "I've located the enemies," she said. "Alright, in that case -"

She ran from the room with Venus in hot pursuit. The speed at which she was moving was simply absurd, easily outpacing what any normal human should be capable of. She could also sense, behind her, Sailor Venus's presence. No, not Venus herself. Her arousal, aimed at Mercury. Her eyes drinking in Mercury's butt, barely hidden by this tiny skirt.

Time was she'd blush so hard her head out to pop from the sudden change in blood pressure. Not anymore though. She could feel it. What 'it' was, she wasn't too sure of, but... she liked having her butt and thighs stared at. She really, really liked it and wanted it to continue.

In no time at all, they arrived on the scene. The warehouse was silent, but the tension hung thick as cordite. Hostage takers surrounded the central office - five of them, all armed, one hanging from a tentacle protruding from a codpiece. They were fully capable of doing all manner of simply unspeakable things to them. Mercury stepped forward, calm and focused, her voice cutting through the tension like glass.

“Sabao Spray!”

The world was instantly swallowed in thick, chilling mist. A dense, unnatural fog rolled in with startling speed, covering the entire floor in swirling blue and white. It clung to the skin like frost - refreshing on a hot summer day, but at this moment? It was disorienting, suffocating, blinding.

“Wh - Mercury?!” Venus cried, her heels skidding slightly as she peered through the fog. “M-Mercury, what are you - what's the plan here?! I can't see a thing!”

She was ready to throw a Love-Me Chain in a panic. But Mercury’s voice came through, calm, measured, clinical. “It’s fine.”  With a simple, practiced wave of her hand, the mist began to lift, as if obeying her directly—its creator, its master. The room cleared like a curtain being drawn back.

And what it revealed made Venus audibly gasp. The hostage takers were already down. All of them. One was slumped against a stack of crates, a precise bruise forming on the side of his temple. Another groaned on the floor, disarmed, his weapon crumpled beside him. A third lay face-down, a cooling aura of mist still curling off his jacket. The last one - the one who’d held the hostage - was unconscious, leaning against the wall, arms bent awkwardly, his cod piece hanging from the ceiling, clearly the victim of some fast, brutal, expert technique.

And standing over them - tall, composed, casually adjusting the cuff of his jacket - was none other than Ambassador Jiraiya. He gave a little bow. “That distraction and cover was exactly what you needed, wasn’t it, Ambassador?” Mercury said, eyes sharp but her tone mild. Almost playful.

Jiraiya smirked and rubbed his chin, clearly impressed, clearly pleased. “Quick thinking, my lady. You have impeccable timing.”

Venus stared, mouth agape, one hand still gripping her chain. "Wait, how did you - What did you...?"

"My sensors picked him up right away," Mercury shrugged. "I could tell he was ready to strike, but that he couldn't do so without one of the Codpiece 5 noticing and using those dirty phallic weapons to splatter some brains."

Sailor Venus was a veteran of battle, but even she had to fucking stand there and applaud. "Okay, wow, did not see that coming," she said. "So, uh, wanna head back to my place and spend the rest of the day eating each other out?"

Mercury stood completely still upon hearing that question. Then, with a slow methodical precision she turned around, wrapped her hand firmly, gradually, inevitably around the yellow bow on the front of her uniform, leaned in very, very close, and said - 

"More than you could possibly begin to comprehend." With her spare hand she tapped at her visor. "Address please? I will have the fastest route to your bedroom calculated instantly."