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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
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[the moment Kazuya's head hits the pillow, a pleased rumble reverberates through him, echoing low and warm in the back of Akira's throat. the thief can't help himself; occupied as his mouth may be, his lips still curve into a self-satisfied grin. there truly is no better feeling than knowing one's efforts at pleasing a partner are bearing fruit, is there. . .?]
[Akira's free hand comes to rest at Kazuya's hip, thumb drawing lazy circles across heated skin, tracing the curves down to inner thighs and back up again. all the while he maintains that steady pace, tongue curving around Kazuya's length, tasting him from bottom to tip with aggressive attention. the more Kazuya reacts. . . well]
[the more merciless Akira wishes to be. it feels a little bit like turnabout, in a way. the best kind of turnabout]
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He could lay here for hours, letting the other tend to him. Holding himself back just to prolong this, to have more of this, to be so greedy as every inclination and instinct of Bel tells him that this is for him, so why shouldn't he enjoy it?
But he doesn't want to prolong it, because the finish is just as good as this, and if he finishes once, then he'll be rewarded by something far more important to him: curling up against Akira and holding him close as they fall asleep together.
His mouth hangs open a little, and he licks his lips, looking at the other through half-lidded eyes.]
Gonna... 'M close. That's your warning.
[However Akira decides to handle it... Well, that's on him, isn't it?]
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[. . . yeah. Akira isn't about to give that up. to deny himself the pleasure of watching as Kazuya finally falls apart, as that smooth and charming and too-damn-hot-for-his-own-good demon king succumbs to Akira's own handiwork]
[it does mean he'll have to steel himself for the inevitable, but. . . hey! cleaning up the mess afterwards is part of the fun, isn't it?]
[which is all to say. . . Akira doesn't pull back. it's almost defiant, the way he sinks himself even further down Kazuya's length, pushing the limits of what he can handle in a way that send adrenaline thrumming through his veins. he still can't devour all of Kazuya-- gods, does he need to practice so that one day he can-- but a little more than halfway. . . is pretty good, for someone with his level of experience]
[and the spark that dances in his eyes? the tiny flicker of flame that accompanies his bold and brash movements? it's as if he is saying-- challenge accepted.]
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It's long, drawn out, pulse after pulse of spend that has him panting no matter whether or not Akira can swallow it all down or some dribbles out of his mouth, unable to take it. His toes curl, and his hand holds Akira's head in place gently with a fistful of his hair.]
That's- That's real good.
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[but he doesn't go too far, and his hand continues to stroke Kazuya from base to tip, to coax him through the entirety of that climax and well into the aftershocks. despite having to take a moment to choke back a cough, he continues to watch the demon king as he writhes, his own cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, tousled bangs curtaining his dark irises]
[. . . beautiful. fuckin' phenomenal.]
[give him a moment to find his own words; he will need a moment to catch his breath, even after Kazuya has settled. but when he finds it]
-- yeah.
[a hoarse, gravelly agreement]
Really good.
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It doesn't take long for him to start going soft, even as Akira keeps stroking him. Under his bangs, Kazuya looks at him, lip quirked in a smile as his chest rises and falls fast, heart hammering as he looks at the other so fucking fondly.]
Uh-huh.
[Very eloquent.]
Come here. I want to kiss you.
[The taste of himself doesn't particularly bother him anyway.]
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[if he lets out a pleased purr against the kiss too, well. . . don't mind him. he is just as content as a cat with cream]
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Hopefully Akira didn't think that getting him off was going to mean an end of the affection! Because he's quite content to waste the rest of their time here kissing him and holding him close and reveling in their combined taste. ]
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[and so he melts, completely and utterly content, into Kazuya's grip, happily swapping lazy kisses as he tilts his head into the fingers in his hair. like this he remains for just a few long minutes, before the need to part for a bit of air sees him drawing back. not far, of course. close enough so that their noses still brush together]
Not. . . a bad date, huh. . .?
[one of the best dates he has ever been on, actually]
this is a wrap, i feel
[It could have been improved in a few spots! Like him having enough self control to not jump Akira to begin with, but overall, it'd been nice. Especially since Akira didn't flinch away from the sight of his wings.
Kazuya pulls the other body close, grip tight and unyielding. It's cuddle time, and Akira won't be getting away any time soon.]