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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
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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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He kisses at the top of his pelvis, letting his hands work Akira free slowly but with purpose, to carefully explore and map his hardened arousal with deft fingers before he commits back to using his mouth and tongue to repeat the process.
It's different now. Akira has shown him vulnerability, insecurity, and he wants to make it known that he does care about him, that Akira doesn't ever have to worry about him being angry at him for anything, and that, most importantly, he's fond of Akira. Enjoys his company, and always has. ]
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[Kazuya is treated to a rushed exhale that quickly melts into a low, approving noise, something closer to a purr that rumbles soothingly in the back of Akira's throat. pleased and content and so, so very encouraging]
Jesus christ, you're good at this.
[the words tumble past his lips in a breathless rush, barely considered before they are spoken openly and honestly into the world. but he has to unlock that filter, to allow for the unfettered flow of words and thoughts, to truly do what he wants to do. . . right? because Kazuya is making a pointed show of affection, and. . .]
[Akira wants to do his part, too. to give something back to someone who has been so kind to him, even amidst his affectionate teasing. to make sure that Kazuya knows he hadn't been pushed too far-- that a show of vulnerability doesn't mean disinterest, but rather. . . I trust you enough to try this with you.]
[it's going to be a little embarrassing, but that's okay!! let him learn how to beg and plead!! hips twitch and jerk into Kazuya's ministrations, seeing out more, wanting more, as Akira inhales and exhales a series of sharp breaths]
You feel. . . great, and I need-- as much as you c-can give-- please, don't stop Kazuya, just-- keep going--
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It's the only encouragement he needs, but as Akira finally lets himself beg, as he tells him to not stop, to keep going, warmth pools in his own gut too. Even earlier, he hadn't considered his own needs, as Akira had stroked his wings and shot far too much warmth into his body. Now it's different. Now Kazuya wants him, wants to not only bring Akira to that peak of pleasure and push him off, but the wants to join him in that wonderful free fall.
He groans around him, lets the sound reverberate down Akira's cock as he takes him all the way to the base and swallows round him, letting the back of his throat massage him as he does, only to pull up slowly and then repeat the motion.
If Akira thinks he's good, then Kazuya wants him to act like it. To take what he wants, to not hold back at all, even if that means bucking his hips to chase that pleasure.]
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Nnngh-- that's great.
[despite everything, Akira has not forgotten about Kazuya's own wants and needs!! . . . especially since they are his fault, considering he so defiantly wound the poor demon up in the first place. honestly, if he thinks about it like that, it's no wonder that he got so unceremoniously dumped back in his room right before getting his release. he kind of deserved it!! it's impossible for him to physically dote upon Kazuya from this position in an open apology for being so mischeivous. but. . . being open and receptive and loud-- certainly louder than he was back in the garden-- is a good place to start, right?]
[with no wings in the way, Akira hooks one leg around Kazuya's lower back, giving himself a bit of leverage so he can move those hips in a steady rhythm that matches his companion's pace. carefully, of course!! no one is getting injured here!! with his body propped on one elbow, he also has a great vantage point to watch Kazuya as he works, gaze dark and flushed and curly bangs flat across his forehead, damp with sweat]
. . . you look-- just as great as you feel.
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And then there's the way he's moving, pressing himself deeper into his mouth on every thrust, needy and wanting and unable to help himself. On his next pull away, he stays, running his tongue across the slit, winding it playfully around the head of it as he sucks, all to eager to tease more of a taste out of the other. Maybe it's greedy, but that's allowed considering that his greed is to Akira's benefit, isn't it?
One hand moves, slipping between Akira's legs to go back to what it had been doing before he'd so rudely sent the other off on his own: gently squeezing and massaging him, fingers tracing teasing lines that he hopes really only rile him up that much more. How much can he take before he finally falls? Kazuya wants to know. It's the mischievous demon in him. ]
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[hands and fingers join Kazuya's dutiful ministrations, and it's almost too much; pleasure lights up Akira's entire body like a lightning bolt, and he feels his limbs go boneless as he flops back on the bed, now pressing the palm of his free hand tightly against his eyes]
[I'm almost there-- are you going to let me fall this time? is what he thinks to say first. but the words are too sassy, too brazen for the part he has chosen to play in this. so. . . he opts for something a little needier]
Kazuya-- I'm so-- can I--
[a breathless babble, his words simple but direct]
C-can I finish this time, can you please. . . let me--
[like he is asking for permission. royal permission to actually fall over that edge and enjoy what lies beyond!!]
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He's going to swallow him down. He's going to taste every last drop thst Akira feels fit to give him, and then wring out yet more.
He squeezes Akira gently, pulls back just enough to use his other hand to wrap around the base of him and pump, squeezing delicately on each motion to encourage him further, to let go, that he can, that he can finally let himself topple from the heights of his pleasure.
Kazuya will be there to catch him in the free fall this time.
Especially if it means that he gets to look at the expression that Akira makes as he comes, because his eyes are now locked on the thiefs, an eager excitement glinting sharply in them. ]
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[with his head thrown back as it is, he can't see Kazuya watching him. but then again. . . he doesn't need to in order to feel that searing gaze, to know those eyes are locked onto every movement he makes as his seams slowly begin to come apart. Akira has never really thought about what he looks like when he hits that peak. . . but he personally enjoys watching as his partners fall to pieces underneath him, doesn't he. . .?]
[would Kazuya be the same?]
Shit--!
[and that thought, the way those fingers apply just enough pressure at his base, the groan that seems to consume him like a wildfire, are the last few pushes he needs to finally fall off the deep end]
[Akira's hips arc against the mattress one last time before stuttering to a halt, entire body flooding with heat as he finally reaches that horizon, grasping for it at it with everything he has. the climax hits so hard he sees stars, each one bursting before his vision like a firework, full of life and color. he isn't particularly loud about it, but. . . nevertheless, Kazuya is treated to a boneless, whimpering keen as Akira's fingers tighten in his companion's hair so hard it probably hurts. and although the motion of his hips stop the moment he reaches that peak. . . he picks up his rhythmic movements again a few waves after he falls, wanting to ride out as much of this bliss as he can]
Ffffucking hell, Kazuya. . .
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Enough that it might hurt someone else. It just encourages him, though. That keening whine makes him all too eager to get some sort of relief himself, even. It's too pleasant to the ears, and Kazuya wonders if he can get him to sing that particular little note again sometime in th future.
He hopes so. ]
Enjoy yourself?
[ He asks, only after he's sure that Akira is done riding out the waves of his peak. Even still, Kazuya doesn't necessarily stop moving his hand. It just slows down, giving the occassional gentle squeeze. ]
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[. . . he doesn't move to stay Kazuya's movements, though]
Yeah.
[is Akira's sharply exhaled reply, which quickly devolves into an airy laugh, one arm flung over his face to hide the flush that threatens to consume him. his next words are a bit slurred, spoken through the haze of bliss that clouds his mind]
. . . 'very bit 'f it.
[garden included!!]
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He laughs behind his hand, moving up to lay next to him. An arm gets thrown around Akira's chest for good measure, pulling him further in against him. Cuddle time? Yeah. His own boner can wait patiently, thanks. He needs to lavish some real affection onto his friend that he cares so much about, and press several messy wet kisses to his cheek. ]
I did too. Great taste, by the way. Solid 8 out of 10.
[... Get a raspberry blown on your neck, nerd. ]
1/2
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Sheesh! [he laughs, clearly enjoying himself, deeply fond and endeared all at once] How about the begging? That was a solid eleven, right?
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[ Except it's clear from his tone that he's just teasing, and even clearer from the way he winds kisses against the other teen that he thinks it was a much, much higher score.
Also his boner. Yeah, that makes that high score so much more obvious.
His hands can't help but to grasp and tease against Akira, like it's still his job to keep working him up, or something. Mostly? He just likes touching! Any part of Akira is free reign right now, as far as he's concerned, and that means any part of him within his grasp.
It's most of him, to be honest. Most of him is being touched.]
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[that's a happy hum, the sound of a thief who is more than delighted with being drawn closer, with having exploring fingers brushing across every inch of his body. it's cute. . . it's endearing. it's charming! Kazuya's excitement is something he is going to soak up like the sponge he is. but at the same time!! he will not be distracted!! nor will he let Kazuya get away with that very cheeky lie]
[and so he rests one hand against his companion's waist, fingers tracing the circumference of the pants that Kazuya still wears, before they come to rest at the front. right above that poor, neglected boner. Akira's gaze dips downward-- openly admiring, one brow raised-- before lifting it up again]
You're such a liar.
[and then he tugs. shift those hips, King of Bel, these pants gotta GO]
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[ There's a feigned sound of aghast in his voice, as if he truly can't actually believe the vicious insult being hurled his way.
But Akira tugs on his pants before he can truly defend himself, and-
He doesn't. Move.
Not even an inch! If Akira wants his pants down, he's going to work for it. It's all part of the game at this point. ]
It's bad manners to take off someone's pants without asking, you know.
[ Ah. There it is. That teasing tone is back, and his own hands move to clasp the thiefs', gently holding them. ]
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[Akira laughs, something sparking in the backs of his eyes, as if his expression is saying-- challenge accepted.]
Hm? Do you want me to ask nicely, then?
[in a sickeningly sweet tone, filled with insincerity]
May I please remove the royal trousers--
[. . . and then he shoves against Kazuya's side, trying to push the demon flat onto his back, so Akira can swing one leg over his waist and pin him firmly to the mattress]
-- Your Majesty.
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[Is the immediate reply, a soft sound rumbling from the back of his throat as Akira's hips put all too delicious pressure against him right where he's the most sensitive, right where he's so hard, and was formerly content to just let it be.
His hands move to Akira's thighs grip a little more than holding, and he exhales soft and slow through his nose.]
But I have no problems in watching you try from your new position. Have fun.
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You're underestimating me. It'll be easier this way.
[will it. . .]
[at the very least, it is easier to undo those buttons and zippers keeping Kazuya's pants held together, fingers moving with all of the dexterity of a well-practiced thief. and once that is done, all Akira has to do is prop himself up on his knees and tug at that waistband to start pulling them down! normally, his is where he'd tell someone "hips up" to make getting rid of those pants easier, but. . . he already knows Kazuya won't comply]
[. . . which does mean the garment sticks a little at the back, but whatever!! Akira is doing his best!!]
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Akira should have just accepted his loss and just opened the front of his jeans to get his dick free, if he wanted it so bad...]
Easier, huh?
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Oh, shut up.
[he says without any heat at all, a laugh lacing every syllable]
You're really stubborn about this, aren't you?
[but at least, in the end, even if it isn't easier, he does manage to strip Kazuya of those pants. begone, undesired article of clothing. ye are not needed anymore]
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this is a wrap, i feel