InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I like cupcakes!"

Kuja (darkmessenger) wrote in erato_dr,
@ 2010-05-02 02:20:00

Entry tags:

series: breath of fire, series: final fantasy ix, series: neon genesis evangelion

Event; open mostly
Despite there being as much to do as there was, this sorcerer couldn’t help but stop and marvel at the unexpected sight of a garden in the night. Lanterns flickered from their posts, illuminating a small path weaving in and out of the greens. Though he didn’t need any more distractions, the event postponed being him figuring out just how he ended up here, there were neat baskets with fruit inside of them on little tables to further deter him from the intended task. How convenient; he was just thinking about how the only other thing to save his predicament would be a snack.

Plucking a few out, the wandering on his part continues until he’s inside the large building which appears to be enclosing the garden itself, checking rooms while occasionally taking a bite out of a rather big apricot. The plump, juicy, and orange fruit is gone with a matter of seconds, and for a reason he can’t explain he’s craving more. One after another he consumes, opening doors into other rooms as if it’s his business, eventually tiring of the unproductive search. In another section of what may as well be this castle he stores himself in, taking seat on one of the large sofa chairs while deciding what to eat next from his collection. They were only fruit, after all, so how harmful could they be? It couldn’t hurt to indulge.

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Terrible and fabulous?

darkmessenger
2010-05-03 07:28 am UTC (link)

The voice that interrupts his personal serenity serves as enough drive for him to dismiss any questions or queries requiring a response. With any other intruder, and under any ordinary circumstances, his response would have catered that mindset. But, unlike previous encounters, there are several factors which make it nearly impossible to conform to the usual this time around.

In addition to an unexplainable desire for some kind of social contact, physically, preferably, there was something that made the presence of this one far more intriguing than any regular passerby. Even with their distance he can sense the blood of a dragon, the one speaking to him undoubtedly the source. The aura entering the room was so heavy of it he can feel it on his skin, inhale the scent, taste it on his lips-- or maybe that was his mind delving too far into imagination.

Still on the sofa, comfortably lounging in a semi-reserved fashion, "I regret to inform you that I do not. Gathered from my earlier exploration, an exit isn't likely to be found. The constructors of this elegantly designed and decorated building must have intended for visitors to stay for quite some time. Though the underlying purpose, if this is the case, is mischievous at best, it would be equally so to not pay tribute to the fine work put into the conception and enjoy what's provided for some time before departing. If you aren't in too terrible of a hurry to leave, would you mind joining me in appreciation, or disapproval if you will, of this odd predicament?"

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yessss.

thefirstemperor
2010-05-04 03:27 am UTC (link)

It's rare he finds someone even more verbose than himself, even if it's rare for him to stretch his sentences out to quite that length. Normally, he would decline and continue onward, regardless of the sheer power the man emanates around him. As much as he can appreciate fine architectural details and the company of someone who may be less than mortal, they mean little when he's feeling a little light-headed and the cherries are causing a strange tingling sensation to radiate through him.

But then, the sharp and sudden image of curling up on the couch beside the man wasn't a bad one at all. Appealing, in fact. Indulging the idea, he slips into the seat, sitting closer than he deems appropriate for someone he's only just met. "Very well. I am Fou-Lu."

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darkmessenger
2010-05-04 04:25 am UTC (link)

When a second joins in sitting on the furniture he shifts minimally from his placement, finding it far too comfortable to move from entirely but wishing to grant the other guest some room. Being close like this, there’s no doubt this Fou-Lu will be able to detect his curiosity in the form of prying senses all over him, sight and magical alike attempting to interpret what’s before him. If only he was granted the favor of touching, both to satisfy his curiosity and bubbling desire for illicit contact. Strange.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kuja. If I may ask, are you of dragon blood?”

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thefirstemperor
2010-05-05 01:24 am UTC (link)

"I am." He isn't surprised that the man figured him out, for those attune with magic are usually rather apt at identifying those such as him. What it means to be a dragon varies from place to place, he knows, however. "'Tis a word mortals hath chosen to describe us, yet no less true."

Before he can even think about it, he touches Kuja's hand, as though either asking or granting permission. Thinking is cloudy and hard, and he and this stranger appear to be alone. No further thought from that point happens, but he does know he feels hot for no reason he can explain.

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darkmessenger
2010-05-05 05:09 am UTC (link)

The way that Fou-Lu confirms his identity leads Kuja to believe that being associated with a dragon could have been a bad thing from wherever he hailed. To this sorcerer it’s quite the opposite; the blood that courses through his veins is picked off as an admirable trait, even if it’s mostly because he is quite fond of the winged beasts. Elegant as much as they are fierce, the creatures are often a thing of beauty, to be admired for their aesthetic quality and abilities. Though Fou-Lu looks nothing like what one would expect a dragon to look like, nonetheless Kuja can’t help but find himself equally, if not more so, attracted to his presence based on that alone.

Any and all thoughts are wiped away when there’s a hand on his own; the feathery touches are near electrical when interpreted by his senses. Why he’s so sensitive to something as simple as a brush of the hand he’ll never know, but whatever it is demands all of his attention and focus. More importantly, it demands him to react. Turning over his palm to top, his fingers twine with the others, stroking in between each digit as he pulls it up towards the dragon-emperor’s wrist. “I happen to like dragons… a lot.”

Whatever kind of invitation Fou-Lu intended, it’s been accepted, encouraged even.

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thefirstemperor
2010-05-06 01:54 am UTC (link)

That little gesture normally wouldn't do anything for Fou-Lu, but right now, coupled with those words, he moves in and rests his free hand on Kuja's cheek, their faces and lips but inches apart. "I need not thy approval, yet a fine thing to hear nonetheless."

Deep down, he knows he should be questioning this reaction to a new acquaintance, but he isn't capable of the thought processes required to keep his usual self-control going. Not with all the other needs clawing in desperation at his body, making him yearn and want, and this man right here may help fulfill those internal pleas. He presses his lips against Kuja's, sparing no amount of those same feelings within the kiss, hoping his intent is crystal clear.

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darkmessenger
2010-05-06 08:23 pm UTC (link)

There’s only room for a brief moment of surprise at the actions on Fou-Lu’s part. Though he had a sneaking suspicion, and secret desire, it would come to this, seeing it so soon is surprising – pleasantly surprising, at that. Given his nature he should interject, but there isn’t a fiber in his being that can persuade himself to do so. A victim of unexplainable, overwhelming lust, what was a sweet kiss turns passionate when hand to hand and cheek contact aren’t enough to satiate this craving.

Eyes close, shutting off the world around him, relying entirely on senses to guide him further. Hands dive and rake into long, silky strands of white, simultaneously pulling the God-Emperor closer as lips part, tongue pries, aggressively requesting entry so it can run along sharpened canines. A union of tongues alone isn’t enough; the pull of heat from the other’s body is hypnotic and powerful, desirable even, irresistible to a point where he can’t help but move closer, touch more, seek the skin underneath clothing.

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thefirstemperor
2010-05-06 10:45 pm UTC (link)

The increasing need is reciprocated in full, pressing himself fully against the other man, back into the soft give of the couch. Longing to allow those seeking free roam, Fou-Lu starts stripping himself of layers of cloth and light armor, only separating their mouths long enough to pull himself free of his shirt. Pausing short of stripping his lower half, he musters up the last shred of logical thought he has and mutters against Kuja's lips, "A room?"

If they can even make it there before the need completely overwhelms them beyond modesty's normal boundaries. This is what this place is for, after all.

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darkmessenger
2010-05-06 11:52 pm UTC (link)

Feeling it would be appropriate, to keep the score even as Fou-Lu removes pieces of clothing, somehow doing so effortlessly even as he’s preoccupied, Kuja follows suit. Wearing little to begin with, the greatest obstacle is removing the armor plate that adorns his front, which isn’t saying much. With a snap the mechanism holding it together is undone, the light piece falling off his shoulders, sleeves joining it. The lower piece requires even less effort to take care of, and before he starts there’s a proposal.

“A room,” he echoes, thought process hazy and making it difficult to interpret anything. With what focus he has left on anything comprehensible, it strikes him that this one must be requesting that they re-locate. Lucky for them, he has the ability to do just that. Though he wouldn’t mind consummating their short-lived relationship here on the sofa, there is always the prospect of someone walking in, and since their behavior is so open at the moment it could spell trouble.

One hand on the Emperor’s chest, appreciative in its’ caress, the other pushes away long strands of white hair obstructing green eyes from view. Leaning down to steal another kiss, convinced he’s addicted to the taste, when he’s done and pulls up Fou-Lu will take notice that they’ve relocated. Instead of the cushion of a sofa cradling them it is the soft, velvet-like plush of sheets and pillows on a bed. Teleportation has its perks. “Is this suitable?”

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thefirstemperor
2010-05-25 09:18 pm UTC (link)

"It is." Fou-Lu spares the room a moment's glance before returning to the most important task of removing their remaining clothing articles. While not one who normally notices looks, in this state even Fou-Lu could admit Kuja is incredible, and seeing him nude and aroused only escalates the associated desire to urgency. His hands grasp Kuja's hips, lightly pressing his nails into the skin as he pulls their bodies close to meet in full and grind flesh against flesh.

It's not enough, not nearly enough, but it's the right direction and he lets the other man know with an anxious moan. But he is allowing his partner the opportunity to take the lead before he seizes it himself, offering a heated and lustful stare through half-lidded eyes.

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darkmessenger
2010-05-26 01:27 am UTC (link)

That stare is met and equally exchanged with a look of his own; radiantly blue eyes accented with a touch of crimson red struggle to stay open as the simplest maneuver wipes away any thought and replaces it with euphoria. Hardly ever before had he even imagined, or barely desired, what it would be like to be joined with another similar to this in the heat of mixed emotions as one, but now it’s all he can think about. Craving it, and knowing damn well Fou-Lu is on the same page, with each gentle press of fingers and nails into his feminine frame which forces the two together an unrestrained groan with a hot puff of breath exhaled follows.

Whether it was the others intent to give him the reigns or not, for the moment he’ll assume the leading role by using the advantage of force on his side to press into the dragon emperor, legs spread wide and wrapping around the frame beneath him. One set of hands on that hardened body he can’t get enough, other digs between and eventually wraps around the two, each agonizingly slow yet intense thrust executed by eager hips that much more effective and damaging to any patience or restraint that may have still remained.

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