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βΆ AUDIO
βΆ VIDEO
βΆ ACTION
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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So he huffs instead of giving a verbal response. Fuck it. Kazuya's allowing it, so he'll take it, instead of trying to hold on and worry about him. Each rock of his hips is powerful, though his pace starts slower, if only due to the immense pressure around him. A drag out and a rut back in.
Not worrying about Kazuya makes it easier to give into those urges that he'd been trying to keep his mind through. The need to fuck, to sink deep down into someone. Another draw back and push forward, and it's quicker this time, testing the pace and Kazuya's limits. The skin isn't being ripped off his dick, so he'll continue, drawing his hips back so his dick is half-out, pushing back in forcefully, their breaths and his growls and rumbles not nearly enough to overtake the noise of soft flesh rubbing together and separating and sticking all over again. Both his hands move to the bed on either side of Kazuya now-- it's awkward, mounting something smaller and bipedal, but every noise and breath and movement helps blot out his thoughts and drive him forward, instinctively rutting into the man.
And while his dick had already been hard and swollen, it still throbs inside Kazuya, the head swelling and expanding in a flare that probably isn't too different in size-- but it's still another addition of pressure with the equinesque cock inside him getting closer to completely erect. Shinjiro groans again at the sensation, but it doesn't sound quite as human-- and when he ducks his head to nose at Kazuya's head again, it's definitely that weird muzzle, with the long tongue curling around his ear.]
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Another draw back, and the empty feeling returns, only to be soothed again. And again. And again. Apparently the key is to keep moving. To spread the pre leaking from the others cock inside him by way of movement. It makes every following motion easier and easier, and with it, he does relax even more, even as he huffs breaths against the sheets as his dick starts to fully harden from internal stimulation.
A hand jerking him off would be nice, right now. But he's too busy gripping the sheets to keep from being overly jostled.
Another noise exits his throat, this one more of disgust as the tongue curls around his ear, but it's also one quickly cut off by a more choked noise accompanied by a more firm rut against his ass that has that furry sheath pressed right against it, and the flaring cock head stretching him just that little bit more.
... Okay, maybe he is a little bit of a size king. So sue him. You learn something new every day. How was he supposed to know just how good of a stretch this would be after only a few short thrusts? ]
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Every noise Kazuya makes (even the one in disgust, which gets a short, raspy laugh that quickly degrades into more panting) spurs him on, long ears upright and forward and attentive to each gasp and grunt and sharper cry from either pleasure or pain or both, and the more he moves the less he cares which it is. His funky monstercock continues throbbing with his pulse, pressing up against his insides each time, dragging and scraping along them in the push and pull.
Even without being able to really look under himself and see, he can almost smell Kazuya's growing arousal and interest, which only spurns him further. If that's what he likes-- being spread, being filled, having the heavy sensation of a cock all the way up to his belly, then all the better.
He breathes out a curse, and something incomprehensible that might have had Kazuya's name in it, the grip on his shoulder growing tighter, the claws pressing against the skin, but not quite puncturing his flesh. It still gives him a rigid grip on him as he thrusts powerfully and fully like some kind of mindless animal in rut.]
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But the pawhand pressing him down, gripping into his shoulder to keep him in place, so he's not jostled as much as he's rutted into faster and harder with every passing moment? That makes him squirm. And not in an attempt to get away. Every pull out, every quick, hard thrust back into him drags across sensitive spots that have him gasping little noises at first.
It feels-
Really good, actually.
Reflexively, he spreads his legs wider, tries to presshis hips upwards against him for more of that repeated sensation. He even turns his head, trying to catch sight of the beast fucking him so mindlessly. ]
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It twists and coils in his mouth, prodding and seeking and rolling further forward and downward, brushing the back of his throat. Spit drips from his open maw, and coats his tongue and Kazuya's mouth, thicker than typical saliva, and generally making it a messy affair as he presses farther at Kazuya's throat, finding another warm, tight space to work another part of himself and fuck akazuya from both sides simultaneously-- tongue demanding space in his throat up front, and cock mercilessly pounding him from behind.
The amount of pre has absolutely made the thrusting easier, with the wet, sloppy noises of it, to the point that thrusting in has some roll it's way back out to drop on the bed. He's getting close, and the heavy breaths and needing noises are clear indicators.
That and yet another faint swelling of his dick, this time much closer to the base, hinting at rounding out bulbously, but not quite grown far enough to keep him from thrusting yet. If does add just a little more stretch to Kazuya's abused asshole every time it passes out and back in, though.]
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Shinjiro's taste is thick, overwhelming, and makes his body feel hot. Exceptionally hot, much warmer, more sensitive than he already feels like he is. The noise he makes is muffled against the others tongue, a needy whine, an attempt at an inhale he doesn't really need.
Probably for the best, because otherwise that tongue literally down his throat might be an issue. Instead, he presses his own against Shinjiro's. It's not a kiss. It can't be, when the other doesn't really have kissable lips, first of all, and second of all, once more, has his tongue down his throat. The reflexive bid for intimacy is there, even as Kazuya squirms, cock hard against the bed as he tries to get some manner of relief. Not like he can get his hand between himself and the bed, with how he's being pinned down so well.
There's going to be a lot to look back on, after everything is done. Much to probably not talk to the other about later.]
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His own noise is needy, frustrating, something rumbling and growling as his pace becomes more erratic, hips shuddering and pressing in a desperate chase until finally he comes-- Wet, hot, and voluminous, cum sinking into whatever few availablke crevices there are in Kazuya that aren't occupied. What that, the base of his dick throbs and swells, forming a canid-esque knot, widening and stretching to make pulling apart either painful or impossible.
His tongue withdraws and his voice is something between a whine and a satisfied groan as he grinds tightly against kazuya's ass, fully unloading into him in spurts.]
Hah.... fuck... [It's a groan, and he's again pressing the side of his muzzle to Kazuya's head, rubbing against it in some bizarre facade of affection as he stays pressed up against him, still deep within the other teen. His weird horselips mouth at Kazuya's hair and ear, breaths hot and wet and heavy as he works on catching it.]
You're fucking great, kazuya... [Murmured praise, another disgusting slide of that weird tongue over his cheek and jaw and ear, and his hips are finally slowing in their grind, even though they remain tied together.]
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It's not particularly pretty when he does finally come, a cut off cry as he presses his face down against the bed hard, soaking the sheet beneath him in his own sticky spend, clenching around an already tight intrusion as he does. His cock throbs and pulses, and he groans muffled against the bed.
It would have been better if he had managed to get a hand on his dick to stroke him, but that thought is far gone at the moment as he just lays there and pants hard. There's a sound that could maybe have been the start of a sentence, but it's over before it really even begins.
He's spent.]
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There's probably at least twenty ways they could have managed this better, but here they are-- Kazuya having to grind himself out against the blankets, and Shinjiro still half out of his own head in that dazed, post-nut zone.
Kazuya almost says something, and he manages a low, curious noise at it. Something between a grunt and a 'Hm?', as though encouraging Kazuya to try again. Maybe this time he can hear it between both of their heavy panting. But maybe that's not a good enough question.He swallows hard, though, and tries again:]
You good? [He sounds half-there, still sort of warm and stupid after coming hard in him.]
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It's too nice.
So instead, he huffs out a sound, letting himself relax further against the bed, and more importantly, under Shinjiro.
This isn't the first time he's been locked together with someone. Though in the past it'd been him on the giving end of things, for the most part. Shinjiro is lucky Kazuya knows better than to try and move overly much.]
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While Kazuya's tent is far better insulated than the bullshit Shinjiro had been left with, the night is still cold-- his thick fur can at least warm them both while they rest and doze off and on.
...And if, when they've separated and the post-nut clarity hits, Shinjiro fucking bails then-- that's hopefully okay too? As said earlier, they're gonna definitely have some things to unpack. Maybe sooner rather than later.]