insincere | An Excellent Use of My Writing Journal, Ahoy

1. From our little corner - Lukas is obligated to babysit a child who belongs to someone Ken likes/doesn't want to offend.

2. Shinou/Sage - now that you're gone.

He went to the kitchen for a drink and the child followed him, staring forlornly at his milk. For a moment Lukas thought very seriously about drinking straight from the carton -- out of spite -- or at least ignoring her, but big dark eyes were his secret weakness, so he poured her a cup.

"Who would've thought," he mused to no one in particular, "that there would be a Murata-oneesan?"

The real wonder was that the mysterious Murata elder had managed to wrangle a promise of babysitting from Ken, when Lukas -- with far more and significant claim to him -- could hardly keep the ungrateful creature from mockery for ten minutes at a time. And she had done so with her brother in a bad mood.

Lukas turned to find the child watching him. "Why isn't Ken-chan here?" she wanted to know. It was the third time she'd asked.

A little slow in the head. Be patient. The blond explained, "He's going to be late. He isn't feeling well."

The message on his cell phone had been more along the lines of: 'Because Ayame doesn't take no for an answer, I need you to go to my sister's house and look after my niece. I'm going to be jogging in circles around the park until I either create a temporal vortex of despair, or feel less like destroying humanity.' No explanation, but the message ended with a quiet, 'I want to see you.'

Two hours of Lego castles and picture books later, Lukas was conjuring up mental images of Ken having become lost, mugged, or ironically fallen into his own temporal vortex. He had become thoroughly disenchanted with beautiful black hair and lovely dark eyes, and little girls in general. Adorable had never seemed like such an impermanent concept as it did right now.

The next time "Why isn't Ken-chan here?" came up, Lukas suggested they play hide and seek.

He sat on the couch and watched TV and occasionally called teasingly, "Where aaare you?" and then didn't move. It was his favorite game of the evening. They were still playing it when the door opened and Ken entered, pale and bent. Lukas pushed himself to his feet, and dark eyes met his from behind their lenses, and a tired smile lit up Ken's face.

"Hey," he said. "I hope it wasn't torture with Naoko."

"It's all worth it," Lukas assured him. He tucked the smaller man against his body in a tight embrace, and just like that, the tension melted away from Ken, with a single sigh a flutter of wings against the blond's neck.

Ooooh, I adore this.

*_*

So perfect, so beautiful ~~so inspiring me to write more in this 'verse~~

Beautiful!

Who needs an addiction support group. We just need more crack.

*clingloff*

[AN: *SWEARS this isn't going to snowball*]

The shriek as his niece hits his legs makes Ken wince and sink a little deeper into himself. But Lukas is there, arms around him, holding him up and bolstering him when it feels like the whole world is crushing down on him.

His lover has changed a lot....or maybe....maybe I'm just seeing what was there all along.

Looking up, his free hand rising to brush aside unruly blond bangs, he smiles tiredly and the arms around him tighten in response.

Was this how you were? Was I so blind? How much of this pain would I have spared us if I had been as strong - as sure - as you are in what we are together?

His sister will be here soon and though he knows Naoko cannot be trusted to stay quiet, he leans in to kiss his rumpled blond lover lightly.

A promise for the night ahead.

[[TOTALLY NOT RESPONDING.]]
[[*keeps lukas on a leash* *refuses to let him talk or think*]]
[[*eyes wordpad window*]]

[[*is a liar*]]

Ayame swings a wary glance back and forth between her brother and her impromptu babysitter, as if enough skepticism will enable her to discern whether or not they spent a significant portion of the night making out on her impressionable daughter's bed. Lukas stands with his hands in his pockets and endeavors to look as much as possible like the stained glass angels in Naoko's picture books, hiding behind Ken.

When they finally leave, Lukas says, "See, I was good. Every time I had the urge to do something bad, I asked myself, if I lock Ken's sister's daughter in the closet, will I be able to get away with it? Since I couldn't be sure..."

The joke coaxes a laugh from Ken despite his withdrawn air. Lukas hooks an arm around his waist and rubs his back in silent comfort, promising himself that, later, when it's more appropriate, he will find out the details of today's agitation, and any relevant names and addresses.

"Next time," he says into his lover's ear, stray curls of black hair tickling his lips, "just come to me. There isn't anything I wouldn't drop to make you feel better."

Ken watches Ayame leave, too tired to dredge up the old hurts, the old arguments. Not that she'd believe him if he told her the truth; Lukas is much more part of his life than the family Murata Ken was born to can ever hope to be. It still hurts to see the disapproval and dislike in her eyes.

Lukas's joke is not particularly funny but Ken is surprised into laughing anyway. It is always such a shock to be reminded of the wicked sense of humour hidden under the polite mask Lukas wears in front of strangers.

He leans gratefully into his lover's touch, glad of the warmth and simple comfort. He doesn't want to share this worry with Lukas. Not here, not now.

"I know." He says simply, to the words and the intent behind them. "And I love you all the more for it."

Yay!

AU is love!

So cute, but poor Murata...I wonder why he's so upset/depressed T_T

AU is love.

*shifty eyes at ara's LJ* Why he's upset... good question. Maybe someone is holding his cat for ransom?

This AU Shinou/Sage [[Lucas/Ken]] Arc makes me wibble in such delicious ways.

Awww. Lucas will kiss it and maaake it aaaall better ~~with hawt sex~~.

The hollow spaces of the palace stretched out in all directions, vast and echoing, and his consciousness was stretched along them, aware of everything and anything that happened within his walls. He was less of a man than a building, which was depressing. He told his Sage so often.

I don't like it when you're away, he said plaintively. I have no one to talk to.

The Sage chuckled, a ripple of satin sound in the emptiness. "You have a moderately-sized harem of virgins here who would die if you honored them with your words. Honestly," that rare teasing tone always made his king burn to touch him, to kiss his throat and beg him to speak, "I'm rather jealous."

He might have been joking about his jealousy either way, but there was only one way that it made any logical sense. You have no need to be jealous. I don't want to talk to them. Move in here, he urged. I will make Ariane give you a room.

"I cannot," was the Sage's quiet demurral. "I don't have much time left. There are things I need to do."

The statement shocked him. You will-- die?

"It seems not to be my fate to outlive you, Your Majesty." All alone in oblivion and still so new to this he could not know the way the Sage approached the dais, or trailed loving fingers over the altar. "Have no fear. I will return for you. This life may be short, but I will find you again."

He felt it when it happened: a death of brilliance, a sudden chill that swept the landscape of the world's maryoku, a tremor in the web that bound him in his spiritual stasis. He heard about it later: some loyalist, maddened at the king's death, blaming the Sage as he had chosen to be blamed.

It was lonely without him, a desperate and wondering time that first time. He asked himself, has something gone wrong, will he be back, will he forget, when will this be over... But he knew that voice so well that years later when the child spoke to him, her thin and wondering voice like satin as she cried that somehow she knew that she would be able to hear him, it felt as if he could smile again.

He told her, Of course you can. I have been waiting here for you to find me, little wise one.

LAST DREAMER SCRIPT.

ALL OF IT.

*hop*

...I poked it last night!!

You did this to yourself, I'm afraid. *snugs* You see... People with good writing abilities are always taken advantaged of. XD

1. IC!Rufus(Roufas) von Bielefeld and IC!Crystal(Christoff) von Wincott - Element

2. Muns vs. Characters - "Six Characters In Search of An Author."

[[Apologies for the names. X3 So used to them!]]

He would never, ever be able to say so with all the men and women who fought and died every hour in this war, but there was always a moment when the attacks came at night that his treacherous heart just loved.

It was the moment when they first woke, to an explosion or cries or the clash of swords. His head would jerk up from the bundled-up cloak where he slept and his companion would sit upright, flame unfurling into existence in the palm of his cupped hand.

That would always be his image of Roufas: bare chest scorched in the light of his flame, hair a dark corona around him. He was beautiful by day, but Christall was the one who had him in his element.

[[I, um, defy your second request and give you a longer Roufas and Christall instead. X3 Continued from here]]

Lawrence and Earhart were having a fine time of it. They were both terrible archers and thought it was fantastic fun to laugh over how they could shoot a man in the holes of his armor at ninety paces but a rabbit would outmaneuver them any day. Christall watched them and laughed along with them.

"I can easily catch you a rabbit," he pointed out.

"And I can have it cooked for you before Christall even catches up to it," Roufas added, dry.

Earhart grinned at them both, reining in his mount. "Of course you can. But don't you dare go ruining our fun!"

"Earhart! Look! It's making a run for it!"

They clattered off excitedly. Roufas was about to spur his own gelding after them when a calloused hand fell over his on the rein. He looked up, startled, at Christall, who shook his head mutely and let their companions ride off. His heart skipped a nervous beat at the contact. Perfect -- a perfect opportunity.

He had just about given the afternoon up as a lost cause. He had entirely failed to get Christall alone in any capacity, and their companions were much more louder and more insistent in their desires than he was in his. Whatever reason Christall had for this, Roufas couldn't not take advantage of it.

"About today," the brunet said, dark voice almost shy. "I don't want you to think that... I mean, about the others... I'm sorry if you... Oh, damnation."

Roufas nudged his mount closer, but no sooner had he shifted his position to steal a kiss than Christall did the same, crushing their lips together in a gesture that was perfectly awkward and absolutely wonderful. Skittish horses broke their contact much too soon, just when Roufas was entertaining thoughts of circling an arm around the taller man's waist and dragging them closer together.

He soothed his mount with one hand, irritated at the beast, and demanded, "Why didn't you say anything? All this time--"

"Are you kidding?" Christall rolled his eyes. The blond blinked. "And give Aniue the chance to tease me about a crush before it was a sure thing?"

Brothers, he thought with distaste, but his heart was light as Christall laughed.

Sorry for not responding sooner~ *hugs* I was and still am in the process of doing a Term Project for my AP Prychology class. ^^;

Anyway, you amaze me again! You capture Rufus's and Crystal's characters so deaftly, it makes me ~~jealous~~ giddy!
Thanks for scratching my itch Kaykay <3

Fandom: OMG Maou
Characters: IC Murata and IC Julia
Theme/Prompt: Yuuri

Good Luck~ ^_^

They sat together in the shade of a tree, a distance away from the picnic where some of their more excitable friends were creating a fuss. Wolfram was arguing with someone over who would fill Yuuri's plate and a distinctly dry version of Conrad's voice mocked him whenever it wasn't drowned out by the plaintive demands of the princess Greta's double.

It was their first meeting. He'd introduced himself first as Yuuri's friend, but she knew him for the Sage before he could say the words -- his voice was young, but his core was ancient in a way her limited senses recognized easily.

"You've met Shibuya already, haven't you? You think highly of him?"

Julia smiled. "Yes, of course. It's easy to care for him." The young man under discussion suddenly became audible, his voice a nervous octave above the others; although no idea what the source of his distress was, she imagined Wolf waving a canteen of hot soup over his lap, and stifled a laugh. "You've known him for longer than I have, so I imagine you must understand."

He seemed perfectly at ease, his voice a grin as he responded, "I'm only curious. No one's ever been able to ask the opinions of a soul on its reincarnation before, after all. It must be my lucky day."

"My lucky day," she corrected.

No doubt he recognized what she meant by that. Quieter, he continued his questioning: "If it became necessary, for his survival... would you die for him?"

She reminded himself that he had the right to ask -- it was important, for the good of Shin Makoku. "I..." Julia folded her hands neatly in her lap, to hide their tremor. I love being here. It was so close to everything she'd ever wanted. But she knew her answer, and somehow it made her laugh. Everything she had ever wanted was thanks to him, after all. "What's once more? I already have, before."

She couldn't see, but she could hear the young man beside her shift, his clothing rustling and giving him away: leaning back more, or looking up. "So have I," he said.

Julia smiled, and shifted closer, reaching out to settle an arm around his shoulders. He was far beyond her in years and in wisdom, and she could not presume to understand him -- but she thought she might sympathize.

More cross-dressing angels? We likes cross-dressing angels. :-D

[[You're supposed to give me a prompt! I'll use this week's non-plot challenge.]]

"With all due respect, Your Elegance, you could at least stuff a bra."

Jophiel snorted indelicately. The angel, whose name was unimportant really, closed his eyes in pained disavowal of his boss. From the rigid line of his back he still imagined he carried his wings and perhaps full regalia of heavenly armor, or just heavenly dignity. He didn't look like he knew what people did in nightclubs, but here he was, pestering the archangel when all Joe wanted was a beer and some exceptionally drunk girl who wouldn't notice he was in a skirt.

He definitely hadn't come in the front -- he was too stiff to ever have gotten past the doorman.

"I like bras just fine," the brunet said disdainfully. "On women."

Perhaps sent exclusively to annoy him, the angel persisted. "Look at that-- That guy over there. He's at least making an effort. Your Elegance, with all due respect, looks as if he's fallen into his girlfriend's clothes by accident."

If a man said 'with all due respect' enough, did that actually in and of itself grant a certain level of respect? Jophiel twisted around to glance at the crossdresser in question.

His lip curled. "Well, there's no accounting for taste," the archangel said. "That handbag doesn't match his bustier at all."

*loves!*
Okay, an actual prompt ... uh ... the black cat crossing one's path. Yes. *eyes small black cat*

Maxine said avidly, "Oh, a black cat! Look out, Joe, with your heels you could impale the poor thing."

He planted both his lethal heels firmly on the ground and stared the feline down. It had frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, mid-stride, head turned to stare back at him warily. Cats were, in spite of all the myths about them, as stupid as any other animal when it came to celestial life, and as far as it knew, he was just a guy giving it a flat stare.

She whispered, as if trying not to disturb it, "You know, it's kind of funny. I read somewhere that in England and Japan it's good luck for a black cat to cross your cat. I wonder why it's bad luck here?"

"Not everyone is like you and wants to cuddle everything with four legs that lacerates their arms," Jophiel said firmly, striding forward. The cat bolted.

"Oh, Joe, c'mon. Don't be a jackass." She hustled after him with delicate footsteps and twined her arm in his, apparently expressly for the purpose of pinching the meaty part of his hand between sharp fingers. Joe flinched and scowled at her.

Maxine told him, "Everyone I know says you're bad luck."

"What I said stands," he said, irritated. "People smarter than you."

*is random*

Alford x Adelbert (pairing or not, your call)

Do with it as you will or use "Tact" as a topic to rally around.

[[Now that IS a challenge. XD Hmm.]]

Anyone who went up against the soldiers of Greater Shimaron was asking for trouble -- and of all things, over the public punishment of a traitor. Perhaps if it had been a woman mistreated, or a child handled roughly, the stupidity could have been forgiven. Adalbert shook his head. He'd never understand heroes.

The young man was disheveled and bruised, slumped against the wall as if unconscious (although Adalbert had lived too long to be fooled by that routine). If things went well for him, he might only be stuck in this filthy prison for another year.

"Learn to pick your battles," Adalbert advised the boy, and tossed his sword between the bars.

Despite his apparent exhaustion, the youth's head jerked up quickly enough when he heard the sudden movement, and he stared at the weapon as it clattered to his feet. "Who are you?" he demanded. "A Mazoku?"

"Someone who recognizes a holy sword when he sees it."

Adalbert might sacrifice some of his principles to serve the ridiculous king of Greater Shimaron, but he wasn't so thrilled with them that he would deliver such powerful weapons into their hands. As far as he was concerned, better for the human brat to take his sword and escape before anyone else made the connection.

The young man didn't move for the sword, not with his hands still chained behind his back, but his sea-green gaze remained fixed on the blade. "Why are you doing this?" he wanted to know. His jaw clenched. "I don't need to be saved."

Fool boy. Adalbert told him, "That's funny, it looks a lot like it from here."

Those eyes lifted to the older man, taking in his black military coat and the smug set of his lips, and narrowed in anger. "Do you pity me?" he snapped.

There it was -- that strength that he'd been looking for, the stubborn determination that brought him back. That was the kind of strength that could wield the holy sword, even if this boy didn't know it yet. That strength was the kind that saved lives. He'd seen it before.

"On the contrary," he said, twisting the key in the lock and then tucking it back into his pocket, leaving the door closed but unlocked. "I respect you."

Then Adalbert turned and walked away, smiling to himself as he thought about the uproar when Belal discovered that a hero with a holy sword had escaped his custody. It was the little things that made it worth his while to serve in Greater Shimaron.

[[Conclusion: I could totally write them as a pairing.]]

Heh, I totally believe you could ~~and should!~~ *Officially adds Alford to the list of my hoes.* You know, pimpin' ain't easy but its necessary.

And on a more serious note, I thought you did a wonderful job with this! Very nice, very quick. Mmmm...*peers at my stack of challenges again*

I give you the evil plotbunies, not that I really think they'll leave me u.u*

Murata as Crowley or Adam, pick whoever you want for the rest of the cast. Have fun, and make some chaos! ;D

Murata clenched his fingers on the steering wheel and reminded himself that he cared about his partner-in-eternal-convenience more than almost anything in the world (except his car, and his plants, and the way light reflected off his glasses when he really needed to feel evil). Killing him while they were stuck in a traffic jam was not ideal in any way.

For some reason, Shibuya seemed to have no idea how close he was to death. "Don't you have any good music in this car?" he wanted to know, wide-eyed as he rifled through the CD cases. "Why is it that all your music is in English? What's Zaa Biichi Boizu?"

"The Beach Boys are fun," Murata protested under his breath, but Shibuya either didn't hear him or wasn't interested in excuses.

"You should broaden your musical tastes! Get some B'z or Hikaru or something in here. Gaah. It's so hot. I wish we could get out of this city-- I guess you were right, we probably shouldn't have tried to drive by Akihabara. Do you have air-conditioning?"

Murata tuned him out, humming Help Me Rhonda under his breath, and thought almost longingly about the upcoming apocalypse.

"I hope we get to the Shinou before everyone else does," Yuuri said, sounding worried. It was the most relevant thing he'd said in at least twenty minutes. "Somehow I don't think Wolfram exploding from the heavens in a nightgown with flaming sword in hand is the most diplomatic way of handling things."

"Wolfram, huh," Murata said, nudging his glasses out of the way to rub at his temple wearily. "Sounds like your side has got quite the welcome party planned."

Yuuri gave him a skeptical glance, tossing an autographed baseball into the air (the last surviving piece of memorabilia from his collection) and plucking it out again. "What about your side? I suppose you're just going to ask the Shinou if he'd like to sit down and have a cup of tea? No waging war on Heaven, no consuming the universe and obliterating all goodness for eternity?"

Upon consideration, Murata had to admit that as unreasonable as he'd heard from Yuuri that the archangel Wolfram could be, he'd never been exactly thrilled with the demon duke Roufas's spirit of cooperation either.

"Well, it doesn't matter. We're going to get to him first."

He glanced at the clock on the sideboard. 4:57 PM. They had an hour and eleven minutes to make a three-hour trip to the forsaken pit in the middle of nowhere that some quirk of fate had deposited the Shinou in, when he should have spent his life safe under Murata's watchful eye.

And if he lost this chance, someone would kill the Shinou (and possibly a few billion other people) before he even had a chance to live and Murata would never get laid.

4:58 PM -- an hour and ten minutes. Murata turned the wheel, hard, and stepped on the gas.

*le squeeeeee!*

He was playing with Pochi when It happened.

One second, Luke Young was tossing the stick for his dog on the embassy lawn. Shori and Conrad - his body guards since before Mother was appointed Ambassador - watching over him tolerantly as the wiry little terrier flew after the stick, little legs pumping furiously.

Then there was a crash of thunder overhead and a bolt of brilliant lightning erupted from the clear blue sky, diving straight for him.

Time slowed, like it did in the movies the American ambassador showed him and he realized that it wasn't a bolt of light, but a glowing ...man? In a pink nightdress and with burning sword. Shori and Conrad were still turning to look. And from the shadows another figure is oozing up. He's even less sure this one is a man.

And as Luke backs up, eyes threatening to jump clear out of his face, there is a long, garbled crash from the embassy gates as a car/fireball comes blasting through...as the clock begins to chime eighteen hundred hours.

*points at her icon* I would like a fic based on that, please. X3

Or, if that's too hard/vague, I'd like to request, um...a young!Yozak/young!Conrad fic. Theme: vineyard in autumn.

"I have something to ask you," said Gwendal.

He sounded grim, like he expected to pronounce a death sentence. He always sounded grim. If Gwendal actually allowed himself to be optimistic the seas would boil and Anissina's inventions would work and the universe would snap like a stressed rubber band.

"Oh?" Yozak reclined easily against the door and was visibly unimpressed by the grim promise.

There was a stand-off then: Gwendal hunched over his desk and apparently determined to impress the gravity of this situation upon his subordinate, and Yozak slumped and informal across the room and apparently oblivious.

It was broken when Yozak said casually, "Hey, Taichou," and a heartbeat later Conrad made the turn into the hallway. The redhead leaned back slightly to toss him a welcoming grin, quickly met with Conrad's amiable smile.

Conrad took a few steps into the room, pausing near the entrance to process the tension. "You wanted to see me, Gwendal?" he said, unfazed.

"It's been brought to my attention that in recent months the two of you have..." Gwendal scowled further, clearly uncomfortable. "That the two of you may have developed a conflict of interests."

The words rang grimly in the air.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean by a conflict of interests," Conrad said politely.

Yozak said thoughtfully, "I wonder if he wants to know if we're fucking?"

Gwendal slammed a hand down on the desk, a flush barely visible over his cheekbones. "Don't play games, just answer the question!"

"Since you asked so nicely." It was all the tall redhead could do to keep from smirking. "Why, yes, we ARE sleeping together."

"I don't see how it's relevant," Conrad added. He wasn't blinking at the topic any more than Yozak.

Perhaps it was the fact that neither of them were in the least bit ashamed of sharing this information, or the fact that they even exchanged a smug look while the Mazoku lord seethed, but either way Gwendal demanded in his calmest voice, "Really? Neither of you see any possibility for complication?"

All the usual arguments were boiling up under the surface, what if it gets weird, what if you have to make a choice...

"You're seeing too much into this, Gwendal." Conrad was apparently taking the slower, gentler response. He would ease Gwendal into an acceptance of their relationship and soften the blows as much as he could.

There was a much better way to go about it, in Yozak's opinion. "Sex is natural, Your Excellency." He barely kept himself from adding, You should try it sometime.

"You," Gwendal snapped, apparently aware of the irreverent thought. "I'm assigning you to-- Cabalcade."

"Why?"

"I'll think of a reason!"

"Can Taichou come?"

"No."

"That's too bad," Yozak mourned. "The women there wear the cutest outfits. I could've modeled them for you... in private, right Taichou?" Conrad's smile twitched subtly wider.

Gwendal was going to lose this one, and he already knew it. He just didn't want to know as much as Yozak was happily willing to share about their sex life.

Bwahaha! Brilliant! I absolutely love it! ♥♥♥ *loff Kay!*

.... I love you.

Oh the love! This is awesome. It felt very, very them.

An Excellent Use of My Writing Journal, Ahoy

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KKM AU, Lukas: Seeing You

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Re: KKM AU, Ken: Seeing You

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KKM, S/S: To Be Found

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KKM: Christall/Roufas: Night Attack

KKM, Christall/Roufas: Time Together

Re: OMG Maou, IC Murata and Julia: Moon Rising

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OMG Maou, IC Murata and Julia: Moon Rising

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Diary of Angels: Not Convinced

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Diary of Angels: Crossing Paths

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KKM, Adalbert and Alford: "Echoes of Respect"

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KKM/Good Omens, Murata as Crowley: "Decisive Time"

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KKM, Gwen & YozCon: "The Best Policy"

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Re: KKM, Gwen & YozCon: "The Best Policy"