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βΆ AUDIO
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18 / Male / Bi / Kingβ οΈ
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(Weiss Schnee wrote all of this, and literally none of it is accurate. Β―\_(γ)_/Β― I'm too lazy to change it, though. It's good for a laugh, I guess! I'm just a regular guy, thanks.)
Yo! My name's Kazuya Minegishi. I'm just your average boy... or so I thought! As it turns out, my world has a demon infestation problem, and guess who got roped into taking care of it? That's right. It's your boy.
Don't get me wrong-- I'm no hero. I'd rather be listening to cool music on my MP3 player than summoning demons. But hey, when the fate of the world and my friends is on the line, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.
Pretty cool, right? I'm so cool. I've since ascended to the throne and become the King of Demons. All the demons in the world now bow to me. I may look like a lanky boy, but I've got so much power and hunger for human souls.
To rise up the ranks, of course! I currently live in the worst room possible, and it is my goal to take me and my friends to the top.
Yo, they call me the King of Rap, the polymath prodigy,
Got skills so diverse, I'm a one-man symphony.
Chess boards tremble at my touch, kings bow to my gambits,
Checkmate in five, your intellect scattered in fragments.
But strategy ain't the only language I speak,
Fifty tongues on lock, conversation unique.
Mandarin to Maori, Farsi to French, I flow,
Every syllable a weapon, watch the knowledge overthrow.
Books devour me whole, knowledge my fuel,
IQ off the charts, Einstein eat your drool.
Philosophy dissected, science on my tongue,
History dances with future, a symphony unsung.
But don't mistake me for a brainiac in a gown,
My skills ain't confined to academia's crown.
Kitchen's my canvas, flames my brush, I paint,
Flavors explode, palates sing, no culinary complaint.
And when the chaos reigns, I'm the hurricane's eye,
Dust bunnies tremble, grime surrenders with a sigh.
This ain't just brag, it's a testament to life,
Each talent a facet, cutting through the strife.
Mind sharp as a rapier, words sharper than knives,
My bite ain't for aggression, it's wisdom that thrives.
So come one, come all, test the multi-faceted skill,
Board games or Babel, I'll conquer with will.
Renaissance Rap ain't a title, it's a soul unbound,
Where knowledge and passion in a masterpiece are found.
Forget books, music, and food. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE BEST MOVIE EVER!!!!!!
Buckle up, because you're about to witness the wildest flight of your life - a honey-soaked, pollen-powered fever dream where bees sue humans for stealing their syrup! Imagine this: a world buzzing with disgruntled pollinators, led by a rogue honeybee with a taste for jazz and a bone to pick with Big Sugar. Picture him, wings slicked back with rebellious swagger, delivering courtroom diatribes against greedy humans harvesting their golden nectar.
Get ready for courtroom antics that would make a hornet laugh, with witness stands overflowing with jittery bumblebees and nervous ants. See bees in disguise infiltrate honey factories, unleashing chaos with pollen bombs and sticky sabotage. Witness epic courtroom showdowns, where the fate of a jar of honey hangs in the balance, and one sassy bee's rap skills hold the key to unlocking freedom for his buzzing brethren. So grab your pollen basket and prepare for a cinematic trip so bonkers, it'll leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about honey... and jazz.
She is the winter's whisper, a breath of cool defiance in a world ablaze. Her beauty is sculpted ice, sharp angles softened by the ghost of a smile. Her eyes, the color of a glacier's heart, hold depths both chilling and captivating, promising untold stories etched in frost.
Her strength isn't the blaring anthem of a warrior, but the quiet hum of resilience, a willow that bends but never breaks. Her mind, a labyrinth of icy intellect, houses a cunning that outmaneuvers the mightiest storms. Yet, beneath the glacial facade lies a hidden well of empathy, a warmth that thaws frozen hearts with the gentle grace of a spring thaw.
She is a paradox, a symphony of contradictions played on the strings of fate. A creature of both elegance and grit, where icy brilliance dances with the raw power of a blizzard. She is the woman who walks through fire, not unscathed, but ever more resplendent for the kiss of the flames.
She is, quite simply, unforgettable. And though the world may try to confine her, to label her as fragile or cold, she will forever be the untamed spirit, the whisper of winter that carves its own path through the storm.
Though, I suppose anyone with similar traits will do. I'm very easy!
Wine. I'm very classy.
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
No one would want to choose either of these choices
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Hot showers with others ;)
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Ninjas
.05 TITS OR ASS
Breasts in my hands and my penis in someone's ass
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
None
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Winter
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Leather. I'm a very, very bad demon!!!
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
The one where there's biting ;)
ESTP-A
if it isn't the cons of his quences. . .
[the first call goes to voicemail. yes. that's fine. Akira half expected that one]
[but!! he tries a second time. all the while rapidly yanking his clothing back on with one hand. the resort probably wouldn't care if he ran around the hallways naked with a sadly neglected boner, but Akira cares!! he has dignity!!]
who could have forseen this...
How unfortunate... ]
1/3 KAZUYA DID
[well played, your majesty-- nope, that gets deleted]
[if there's anything i can admire it's your dedication to the bit-- delete delete]
[if it's begging you wanted then-- DELETE DELETE DELETE]
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[Akira's footsteps suddenly stall in their tracks as he stands next to the stairwell entrance, staring at a blank message on his watch. for some reason, any witty quip he composes in his head just. . . doesn't feel quite right. he wouldn't describe himself as an insecure person! but even so. . . something awfully akin to doubt needles the back of his brain, poking at a few of his weaker seems, threatening to tear them open]
[. . .]
DONE
[but very shortly after his last attempt, there comes a gentle knock on Kazuya's door]
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He'll have to try so much harder, in that case.
At least, that's what he thinks, before there's a knock on his door, and when he opens it, Akira is standing there.
.... Maybe not a sturdy as he thought. He opens his mouth to say something, before a scent hits him. A low simmering anxiety that makes him close it immediately, blink, and frown. ]
... You alright?
[ Like, being edged aside! Anxiety and edging don't go hand in hand, do they? ]
1/2
[. . . but honestly, as soon as the door opens and Kazuya greets him with a genuine you alright?. . . it melts away entirely. whatever it was he needed to know. . . that was it]
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You little asshole.
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So Kazuya moves, putting his arm around Akira's shoulders and then summarily in a headlock, ruffling his hair with his other hand. Fond. Affectionate. ]
You were warned what would happen.
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Still can't believe you. Right before I was finished? I was really getting into it, you know. . .!
[there's very little heat behind his words, though. if anything, they sound relieved]
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[He laughs, even as Akira elbows him. It doesn't hurt, of course. And it more just shows Akira's (faux) indignation than anything else.]
Your choice. You can go back to your room all mopey and finish yourself off, or you can beg earnestly and see just how I'll decide to do it.
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[the funny thing is, for as badly as he still aches, Akira isn't sure he is interested in his own release anymore. not because it wasn't a good time-- it was, and by gods does he wish Kauzya had let him reach that peak, because he is sure the climax would have been fuckin' amazing. but. . .]
[. . . brief moment of nerves aside, Akira has to admit: leaving him hanging and teleporting him back to his bedroom was a pretty damn good play. the game they were playing? he lost. fair and square. and losers don't get to claim prizes]
[the winners, however. . .]
You know-- [. . . his tone is light, but there is a tiny edge of vulnerable sincerity to it. he pulls his elbow out of Kazuya's ribs and reaches for his shirt instead, fingers curling tightly into warm fabric, then turns in the demon's hold to face him head on, one brow quirked in apparent nonchalance]
This might come as a surprise-- [or not, considering what Kazuya knows of him] -- but I have trust issues.
[he puts it jokingly but also that's true!! that's a real thing!!]
So if I beg-- [he toys with the fabric of that shirt, pinching it between thumb and forefinger] . . . it's got to be for someone who at least appreciates that.
[Kazuya deserves a prize for winning their game. Akira can-- is willing, wants-- to give him one. but before he does. . . he needs to bare just a little bit of his heart first]
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He gets it. The trust aspect of all of this, of being vulnerable with someone.
It reminds him that while he knows Akira, Akira doesn't know him as well as they once had known each other.]
... Hey. If I ever do anything you don't like, or you're not comfortable with, tell me, alright? I don't want to be forcing you into anything, and sometimes I forget that not everyone has been here as long as I have, or is even alright with some of the things I might be. So... If begging is uncomfortable for you, then don't. Just tell me so I don't push things too far, alright?
1/2
Ah, well. You got me a bit earlier when you dumped me back in my room. [LIGHT AND PERFECTLY AMUSED] . . . but that's just because I thought I did something wrong. Over it already.
[he lifts his hand from Kazuya's shirt and presses palms against either side of the demon's cheeks, torn between smooshing them together and just. . . holding them. he opts for the latter. a touch of tenderness fits the mood more]
Otherwise--
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[he grins, wide and sharp, as hands fall to Kazuya's shirt again]
You haven't done anything wrong.
[a very gentle tug]
And I think a proud demon king deserves a reward for putting a cheeky thief in his place.
[he doesn't want Kazuya to mistake a vulnerable moment for him not being into their little back-and-forth. because honestly? whatever trust issues Akira may have. . . Kazuya makes dealing with them a little bit easier. to explore those vulnerabilities in a safe way. . . and turn them into something better]
not my ass reading 1/2 as 1/3 and waiting for the third all this time
[That he can guarantee, because Akira deserves that. For being honest with him, he'll receive honestly in turn, even if it would have always been the case. Gently, Akira gets pulled towards the bedroom, because that's the natural place this is going to conclude, right? If Akira is confident enough to let himself be vulnerable enough to beg, then Kazuya is going to reward him for that, even if it's Akira who says that he's the one who should be rewarded.]
C'mon, lets at least get you comfortable, yeah? The whole begging thing can wait.
SURPRISE IT WAS 1/3 YOU INTERRUPTED MY CHAIN-- (no)
[. . .]
[. . . truthfully, he's almost glad for it now. that ultimately it ended in both of them lowering their walls for each other, just a tad. as Kazuya takes his hand, Akira feels his heart skip in his chest, leaping like a rabbit against his ribs, light and warm as it steals his breath away. it's. . . a different kind of excitement than what he felt when he was pinned down against the garden grass. it's something new, something tender, like a tiny little sapling sprouting its way through the dirt for the very first time]
[he falls into step behind Kazuya with a playful little hum. because now that the vulnerable moment is over, he is ready! to play!! some more!!]
You say it can wait, but just so you know I'm rehearsing my lines in my head.
[LIKE SOME KIND OF THESPIAN?]
I'm really psyched up for this now.
[. . . okay, Akira]
:(
[He laughs, light and airy, giving Akira a light shove to get him onto the bed when they reach it. The tender feelings that he can scent are... Something! Not quite as tasty, but they make Kazuya himself feel better about the entire thing.
He'll join him on the bed, of course, nudging him with his shoulder playfully.]
C'mon, lets hear your lines, then. I promised if they're good enough I'd reward you for them, didn't I?
and then the third comment never came...
[Kazuya's little nudge gets one in return, before Akira flops onto his side, resting his chin in his hand as his expression sparkles in the dim lighting]
Well. First I was thinking something like. . . [. . . a hand finds its way to Kazuya's chest, fingers splayed across the expanse of fabric that covers it] . . . "please, Your Majesty. I need you."
[doesn't quite have the same effect as it might in the heat of the moment, but this is a test run]
:(!!!
He leans forward a little, ducking his head to steal a light kiss before moving back out of range. He's teasing too! Letting the slim weight of his body setting over Akira's, right where he likely "needs" him the most.]
Yeah? And just how do you need me?
... :(!!
[. . . Kazuya presses against him, his lithe body sliding just right over a still very sensitive area. Akira bites his tongue as the sensation stalls his brain, flinging every single "practiced" line right out the window. if he even had them at all]
Hah. . .
[. . . it's actually easier to formulate the words like this. with the promise of what he needs hovering so close, and yet just out of reach. he doesn't think about the words he is stringing together, or what they might mean. instead. . . he speaks from a very raw part of himself. the piece that had been left completely untended back in the garden, simmering in unfinished heat]
I need. . . [his hand curls into Kazuya's shirt, gripping it tightly] . . . to feel you. To have you feel me. Every. . . [a slow exhale] . . . aching inch of me.
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[He exhales softly, leaning back down to press his forehead against Akira's, mouths the barest of millimetres apart. His hand comes up, caressing his cheek, thumb brushing over so gently over the bone there as he looks at him with nothing but fondness in his eyes.
His way of repaying him for what he'd done earlier, even if it had been for a joke.]
How would you like me to do that for you? You want me to use my mouth again? My hands? Or do you want my body entirely?
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King's choice.
[is his eventual reply, muttered quietly while he lets his mind wander towards every sensation he feels pressed against his body]
You said I could beg and see how you chose to finish it.
. . . so show me that.
[take the choice away from him, because if he is tapping into his vulnerabilities and letting someone else control him for a change, then. . . he doesn't want to do things halfway]
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[Another kiss is given, this one a little deeper as he rolls his hips against him, just to help to get him a little more back into it. After all, he had left him so painfully wanting, hadn't he? This time he lets Akira kiss him, feeds into the molten want that's slowly reforming, that he can taste on his lips.
It's going to be good, he knows it. He knows that Akira is going to finally get the desired end that he craves, and he's going to be the one who gives it to him.]
I guess I should finish what I started in that case, hm?
[The kiss is broken, but for good reason. There's much to do, like bring himself back down the thief's body, to once more undo his pants and take what he wants from him.]
Ready...?
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[. . . but it's nice. in what way, he cannot say; he doesn't yet have the words for that. but it's still. . . nice]
[Kazuya draws back and slides himself down, fingers tugging at the hem of Akira's pants. another breath catches in his throat, his own hands twitching with the urge to reach down and touch. keeping them perfectly still is also against base instinct, but for now? he lets them lay dormant at the side of his head as he tilts his chin up to catch blue eyes with dark gray]
[Ready? Kazuya asks. Yes, Akira thinks. but that's far too simple, is it?]
Yeah-- [a little wiggle of his hips, a slight nudge with his knee, as a show of impatience] C'mon. . . you've made me. . . wait this long; have a little mercy, won't you?
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this is a wrap, i feel