Your Favoritest Post That You Ever Wrote.

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Applo

Beautiful like a Forest Fire
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I think it’s pretty fair to say that here on Iwaku we as a community create a lot of IC posts. It is really why we’re all here after all. That being said it’s not every post is enjoyable or easy to write, sometimes it can feel like pulling teeth. On the other hand sometimes they are really really fun to write.

Those post where you sit down and ideas leap forth from your fingers. Those posts were you cackle to yourself as you write. Those post that even if they aren't your best work bring a smile to your face when you think about them.

Those are the posts I want to see. Share them with us and tell us why it’s your favorite post. What makes it special to you?
 
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I have lots of favourite posts, but as of some months I really like this post.

Why? Hm... could be because I was playing an evil kneevil and I kinda spooked my partner as well. Yet in the second part of the post, I'm playing to of the friendliest and purest characters I have. :bsmile: It's an amusing contrast and it was fun to write.

A chilling giggle once more left the nogitsune. His tails wagged, looking menacing even though it was simply from pleasure... the pleasure of seeing the young man before him so very uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in. It thrilled the dark fox, seeing fear and confusion, seeing the disgust in his enemies. One of his favourite part of his imposed games was simply watching the reactions he garnered. Damian did rather nicely at first.

Denial was always there, almost an instinctive move, really. Nobody wanted to admit there was something within them that they hated, or that perhaps caused them grief or something that angered them so much that they had to keep it chained. No-Chan liked to think that he had perfected the art of dragging people's inner demons out. Seeing Damian's hand move to his heart, instinctive or not, was amusing. What wasn't, however, was what came after.

He watched the stony expression, the effort Damian was putting up to stop his fear from taking over. No-Chan's tails flicked with slight irritation, though his voice remained as cheerful as always. "Oh, Damian-chan, nothing is ever left behind. What takes place in your life is always there in your mind. No matter how many walls you build up around it, no matter how many locks you put up to keep it from escaping, there will always be someone who will break them all down to dust, until all you see is the darkness you wished to run from. But you can never run from the dark, Damian-chan. Wherever there is light, there are shadows; the brighter the light, the darker the shadows."

The grin on No-Chan's face was leering indeed, satisfaction almost oozing from it. He brought his muzzle down, nuzzling the top of Ayame's head, though his fiery eyes remained on Damian, even as he licked her one ear.

"Ja ne, Damian-chan,". A cackle escaped the nogitsune as he raised his head. The tendrils of darkness swirled around him, enveloping him... not a moment later, he vanished.

The light returned once more to the room. Ayame seemed unharmed, though she was shuddering on the chair, curled up even more tightly than before.

*****​

Kirn smiled inwardly, seeing the respect Raiju had for him. He knew he was right about the young white wolf, but seeing it in effect was something that lifted his mood, enough that it took away most of the remaining sour feeling from having felt the darkness earlier. I know I must look different from the depiction of kirin you may have seen. I haven't met any other here, and I do know that there are differences in what mythology says I should be... He paused a moment, thinking over his words before continuing. I am not from here, from this world. I came from another world. Where? I don't know. But the fact that Earth is not my world is something I've known since I first discovered this form of mine.

It had been a difficult transition for the kirin. He had been found by humans and raised as a son until he was ten when he first transformed. His family had been shocked, as was he. It didn't go well, and eventually, the young Kirn ran away from home.

He lowered his head unknowingly in his solemn mood, though the tiny pat from Chi's hand made him look up once more. Still, all things happen for a reason, and I am very glad I am here in this world."

"Me too!" Chi piped in her small voice, snuggling in Kirn's mane. "I'm glad I was able to meet you, Kirn! And you Raiju, even if we just met now! I think you're both the most amazing beings I've ever seen in my life!"

Kirn chuckled inwardly, though it came to a pause as he looked at the tree Raiju had brought them to. Well this is certainly different. Rather beautiful, I must admit.

Chi stood up on the kirin's neck, taking a moment to balance herself before walking up so that she was positioned right by his horn, resting a hand against it. "It looks strong and cozy, let's go in, Kirn, you can then help Raiju get better."

Yes, of course.
That said, the kirin entered the shelter, heading toward the back before settling down.
 
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My tentacle monster intro because I love it.
Not because it's a paragon of writing ability or anything (it's not written that well lol) but it was for a complete smut rp that I really wasn't thinking about putting much effort into at first but then SURPRISE REALLY IN DEPTH TENTACLE MONSTER CHARACTER (it's actually a demon summon gone wrong). Also I really loved this rp a lot, it turned into something great. Too bad it never finished and I really don't have the time to restart it or any other rp right now.

Although it was for a smut rp, this post is totally safe for work (the incubus part may be a little questionable, but you can safely skip it):
[spoili]

Mara Incubus demon

On the earthly plane, Mara appeared to be a effortlessly beautiful human, the perfect object of desire for the lustful. His magic was such that whatever the subject desired most, he would appear as. Sex or gender did not matter to him, he was consumer of all who were willing. Any orgasm would feed him, and he spent many evenings in nightclubs simply waiting for the food to approach him.

However, his true form was was less than pleasant. To satiate his food's every desire, his body had a humanoid shape, except for where it came to his back, where the smooth skin branched out into many extra tendrils. He had six arms aside from his humanoid ones, three sprouting from each of where a human's shoulder blade would be. These arms were wormlike. They could lubricate themselves if they desired, and their membranes could change their texture. They were incredibly useful for any caress or penetration.

Another three appendages outstretched from the tailbone, these were his reproductive organs. He was not human, and as such had no need for human genitalia. The human food saw what it wanted as he devoured them, so his true physical shape was unimportant to those who would be consumed. His three tails each had their own purpose: the first to fertilize, the second to deposit eggs, and the third served as a cloaca. All demons of his type were intersex; they could choose whichever method of reproduction they wished. They could even fertilize themselves if they desired it, though few bothered. Their own reproductive functions did not bring them much pleasure in the human sense. Their true purpose was to bring a human's lustful nature to the surface, to create eager servants for the demons who needed human hosts.

Moloch King of Lesser Demons

Although the ruler of the lesser demons, Moloch survived by collecting human souls via emotional contract. His main method of the contract "writing" was to grant one wish to a human who sacrificed something great to him. The most popular method being child sacrifice. Moloch was an omnivorous demon, he fed both psychically and physically. Any sacrifice involving meat would feed him, but the primary portion of diet was filled with great emotion. Child sacrifice involved the meat of a youthful human, which was quite tasty on its own, but the parent of the child was so much more pleasant. All had strong emotions about the sacrifice, whether it be grief, relief, anger, or duty. Each had their seasoning, and many humans experienced a mixture which was truly invigorating. So for this small payment (however large it appeared to the contractee), Moloch would grant whatever single thing the human had desired. Riches, fame, talent, whatever it may be.

Moloch, on the human plane, would often appear as a crossroads demon, possessing another human in order to create the contract. Other times, he would force a lower-ranking, true crossroads demon, to go through the negotiations for him, having the human deliver the sacrifice to a specific altar Moloch could feed from in the comfort of his own Hellplane. He liked both options, as they both held their own entertainments, but his true form was quite monstrous, and sometimes uncomfortable to keep cooped up in a human meatsuit.

He had six hands, two heads and four wings. His body was at least 20 feet tall and wide, though size was not constrained to earthly laws of understanding in the Hell dimension. His throne was made of tortured human souls serving out their "chair sentence" - several hundred of them knotted together to collectively bear his unfathomable weight.

As he leaned back in that chair, their ever-present moans and wails but a tiny hum in his massive, elephantine ears, his legs were propped up on the ottoman of infantile bones from previous sacrifices. Moloch was truly content.

Asag The Fusion

But despite their powers and bodies, there were still those few humans who could bend their own desires to control the demons. It could be a pain to be summoned into a circle at any instant, but thankfully, over the millennia, the humans who possessed both the power and the knowledge to do this were pathetically small. It was true the demons were required to keep some tomes floating about in the human world, else there would be the possibility of the dimensions being completely untravelable by demons, thus dooming them to slow starvation from their prime source of nourishment. The summoning by talented humans, rather than helpful demon travelers, was but a small price to pay for the guaranteed longevity of the demon race.

But, as young witch Kaya bespoke her summoning spell, the smoke from the circle unfortunately flipped the page in the middle of her mesmerizing chant without notice. She had begun to summon the All Mighty Morloch, but mid-chant had dropped into the process for the incubus Mara.

It was true Kaya had a magical gift, quite strong for her age. But alas, she did not yet have the fortitude to harness it correctly. That should have been the end of it. A puff of smoke and perhaps some soot in her face, a frustrated hmph and a laugh had by all.

But that was not the case. No, instead, somehow her ritual was spontaneously summoning both the demons, a cross-dimensial gateway opening and fusing their bodies in the most grotesque of ways. A dual consciousness of both Muloch and Mara, together forming a now-bubbling liquid mass of go in the summoning circle. A collective organism who would henceforth be referred to as Asag, a monstrous demon whose mere presence caused fish to boil in their rivers once they looked upon its hideous vessel.

The bubbling puddle only grew in volume in the circle, a vomit-inducing purple ooze whose density also began to double, its color deepening as its goo-like form touched the edges of the circle and retracted away quickly, like grease sputtering out of a frying pan.

But still, the form grew, the smoke stank of something most vile as the liquid became solid, able to support itself. Instead of spreading across the floor, it began to grow vertically, like liquid latex pouring from a can in zero gravity. The bulbous masses soon developed nine tentacles, its shape growing too quickly for the circle to contain it.

The still-puddle-like base of the creature still bubbled and frothed, the tentacles coming from it slapping downward, grasping for any form of life in the vicinity. It mass doubled, tripled, quadrupled, the puddle was now spreading across the room and the tentacles emerging from it able to spread further from the center.

Still the form was a chaotic mess, but some tentacles could split to form more, and soon the room was half full of at least a hundred of them. The purple had turned to a burned black, the edges of the puddle drying like fried egg whites burned to the pan. The tendrils waved around like a sea of anemones, only the tentacles at the far edges of the base slamming themselves on the floor and trying to pull the rest of the base forward across the floor.

It had no face, no eyes, and only a dull sense of touch. But it knew that if it fed, it could strengthen itself and develop those things, bring back the brain most capable of rational and intelligent thought. But for now it only had the primal urge to expand, to feed its hunger.

And its hunger was conflicted, for its base tenets were held between physical lifeforms (of which it did not appear to have a mouth to consume them with) and the psychic lust for strong emotional turmoil.




[/spoili]

Outside this, I have another post I'd like to highlight... It was a setup post for a group rp I did years ago. Basically the idea was to make a sort of supernatural rp but fit as many puns/callbacks/references in there as possible for laughs. (This is a theme I like a lot lol don'tkillme) ("Sounds like they really wanted the acronym to be SHIELD..." type fuckery in here)

Anyway, this particular rp never went anywhere and I don't have a desire to ever try it again, but I have not yet surpassed the level of puns present in this particular post.
(also it's way shorter than my above post, just in case that first post was too daunting)

[spoili]
The year is 2015. Otherkin walk among us. Vampires, werewolves, you name it. The supernatural myths are true. But thanks to "The Veil", a law that stipulates otherkin must exist in secrecy from humans, not many humans know of their existence. The world as we know it is only possible thanks to an organization known as SPN. Supernatural Progeny Negators. They create and regulate the veil.

Most otherkin make themselves scarce. However, falling in love with a human isn't rare. Unfortunately, the penalty for creating a metahuman(half-human, half-otherkin), is death. For both the otherkin and its progeny. This is done by SPN operative to preserve the sanctity of the veil.

Metahumans have one get-out-of-death-free card, though. If they agree to become a MOP(metahuman operative), they can preserve their own life by killing or recruiting other metahumans into SPN. To prove their loyalty to the cause, their first mission is to kill their otherkin parent. From then on, The MOPs take orders from the HOs (Human operatives), who follow the direction of PIMPs - Persons in managerial positions. But at the very top of the SPN is the FVC(pronounced 'fuck'), First Veil Council. The people on this council are mysterious and rarely seen. But they are the founders of the SPN and the Veil, the organizers of the PIMPs, HOs, and MOPs. Their word is law and their methods unquestionable.[/spoili]
 
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Mine comes from a character that I made a decade ago as a joke character, hence the name Merchant-sama. Turns out my friends really enjoyed him and often ask if he can make an appearance. So whenever I need to have an intergalactic seller I pull him out. He's a sly businessman with unending greed for coin. He'd sell his mother if he could and he'd do it with a smile. He's also a very secure individual when it comes to things like his appearance. He will wear just about anything so long as he thinks it will sell well to the victims - er, customers.

[spoili]
Hydrophonan's were many things; friendly, athletic, strong, social, but it was their gullibility that kept bringing the off-worlder merchant back. It wasn't hard to compete with the local sellers because of their severe lack in networking even with other clans. Their weakness was his strength and his strength fed his ever growing avarice.

His traveling cart rolled across the beach, drawn by some invisible force that no one could fathom. It parked itself at the edge of the crowd. The side facing them opened up into an impressively decorated selling stall. Many off world items that pertained to the festival were on full display for the potential buyers. A sly, carved fox head stared down at the customers from the crown of the seller's window, a dainty wooden paw was pressed to its mouth.

The merchant or Merchant-sama, which was a name that somehow caught on to the masses, hailed his potential customers from within. “Your businesses may be closed, but mine is forever open. My prices are the cheapest you will find and of course the best quality for my loyal customers.” He pulled out some signs he fashioned out of glowing ribbons and hung them above his head. They read 'GLOW APPAREL', 'PARTY POPPERS', and 'BODY PAINT', respectively.

As he waited for people to gather, he affixed a two glowing ribbons to his black hair. There were many ways of doing this, but he chose to tie his hair up into two, short pigtails. He gave his head a shake, displaying colorful qualities of the ribbons. They left a magical trail of colors behind as they fluttered in the air.[/spoili]

There's not really a deep meaning to why I like this post. I just like describing him. xD
 
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This one.

Every single one of my posts are top notch.
 
Bit of background - Initium Novum was a sci-fi fantasy RP that took place on a massive ship transporting millions of residents to a new planet because their previous one was no longer habitable. It had been in transit for close to 150 years, and had not yet found a new suitable planet.

The ship was populated by both humans as well as by androids of varying realism - my character, Lydia 815-165, had been the ship's lead navigator since its maiden voyage 150 years prior. She is one of the most advanced androids on the ship, fully anatomically correct with fluid emotional responses, cognition and her own intelligence. Essentially, there was little that differentiated her from a human. Still, androids were regarded on the ship - as they had been, on their previous homeworld - as less than human.

That entire hierarchy gets thrown on its head when the ship's captain retires, and nominates Lydia to succeed him as the ship's captain, making it the first time in the ship's history that an android would be in a position of power - part of the Council, a governing body that managed all of the matters on the ship. The captain believes Lydia is advanced enough to be capable of handling this task.

However, there is a dark side to her technological advancements. As part of a debt owed by her original host family (from before the events of the RP take place), she was to be used essentially as a sex bot to be in a prostitution ring run by a rich elite. Few on the ship know about this, other than her handler who just so happened to have gamed his power and influence into a position on the Council. Feeling threatened by the possibility that Lydia might soon be his peer (and as the ship's Captain, technically his superior), in this post he tries to leverage his power against her in a show of force.

Initium Novum: Episode 1

This post hit home for me. When I was growing up, my father seldom hit me, but the threat of physical force was always present any time I did something that upset him. Lydia's cowering in this post is reminiscent of that visceral fear that I felt - the fear of pain and that feeling of helplessness. My hands were literally trembling when I finished writing it.
 
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*Reads and takes notes about how to make them good posts*

Its taken me far too long to decide on my favorite but a post I was writing the other day reminded me of this one and how much fun I had writing it. There was a lot of cackling to myself like a loon. It's kinda silly, but I was struggling with a real block when I was trying to write this post. For some reason the phrase brothels have the best baths floated into my mind from somewhere and I all of a sudden I could see a way forwards. I chucked in a gratuitous reference for good measure.

A strand of hair floated slowly across Ran’s vision and she watched it briefly before sending it tumbling away with a small stream of bubbles and closing her eyes. The noise and bustle of the busy city was just a dull murmur to Rán as the cool water helped to clear her mind of the alcoholic fog that had been enveloping it. The awkwardness and embarrassment of events since she’d approached those women on the street was something she was ready to endure for the chance to wash properly with some privacy, something that could be hard to find aboard a ship. For Rán this was as happy as she had ever felt ashore and she was savoring the feeling until something tickled her foot.

Bolting upright Rán let a surprised squeal when she found a naked woman standing at the end of the bath looking at her with a puzzled smile. After plunging back under the water she wriggled and contorted to try and cover herself as best she could, although as Rán soon realised the tin bath tub offered no protection at all from the woman’s gaze. Eventually out of sheer desperation she settled for lying on her front so that only her back was on show and buried her face under her arms. Judging from the tittering come from the other end of the bath the intruder was enjoying the scene rather too much.

"Well Madam did say she had a shy one for me but I wasn’t quite expecting you my dear” The woman said in a honeyed voice as her hand trailed in the water, brushing against Ráns back. “Not that I mind at all. Something a little different can be a lot of fun. You can call me Rosie my dear, and what should I call you?”

Rán’s desperately tried to think of a name, any name that wasn’t hers own but all she could focus on was how had this lady had gotten through the door that she was sure she had blocked. After a moment Ran heard Rosie’s footsteps as she moved round the bath

“My n-n-n-na-name is R-R-Rán” She answered in a barely audible whisper giving up on a fake name.

“What was that Pet? Don’t worry I won’t bite” Rosie said before adding nastily “Not unless you want me to that is.”

Rán’s cheeks singed with embarrassment as she swallowed the lump the had formed in her throat and tried again. “My name is Rán”

A solitary finger worked its way up Rán’s neck, stopped under her chin and without meeting any resistance lifted Rán’s gaze away from the side of the metal bath tub and level with a pair of bright blue eye.

“Well then Rán, now that we’re properly introduced” Rosie whispered from little more than an inch away from Rán’s face “why don’t you tell me what you’d like to do darling, or would you prefer me to suggest something hmmm?”

Before Rán had a chance to answer, Rosie had drawn right up to her face and Rán she felt the soft warmth of Rosie’s lips brushing against her own. For a handful of seconds Rán’s mind was completely blank and then panic took over and she quickly, almost violently, pulled away from the courtesan’s face.

“I just want to bathe” Rán whimpered.

“Well if you scoosch up just a little I’ll join you.” Rosie responded “I’ll make certain it’s the most comforting bath you’ve ever had.”

“Please I just meant a bath by myself, to wash, someone told me this was the best place to do this. I thought I blocked the door so that I could leave before you got here, I’m sorry, the coin is on the table by the drawers please I just want a bath.” Rán bust out in one long wail as Rosie stood up to join her.

For a moment Rosie looked confused as she tried to comprehend the torrent of words and then everything about the woman seemed to change and she laughed. This wasn’t the sultry suggestive laugh of a moment ago but a laugh of genuine amusement.

“You mean to tell me” she said with a broad smile “That you came to Mrs Palms house and paid for a session all so that you could have a bath. Ha. You really are a funny little thing my dear.”

Rán watched over her shoulder as Rosie moved to the far end of the bath and picked up a little pile of clothes before striding purposefully over to the counter Rán had indicated and carefully counting the coins. Satisfied she gave Rán a little nod and moved towards a large curtain and sweeping it aside to reveal a second door. Rosie’s hand was on the handle when she turned back to look at Rán with a slightly concerned expression.

“Is this really what you want” she said whilst gently jangling the coins in her hand. “This is quite a lot for just a bath and I’m sure I know somethings you might enjoy so, are you certain there is nothing that I can tempt you with?.”


Nearly half an hour later, a decidedly rattled Rán peered round a doorway onto on of Rothendust many side streets. When she saw no sign of anyone who might recognise here Rán stepped quickly out onto the street and pausing only to tuck her newly re-wrapped braid behind her ear she set out in search of the market which she had been told was only a few streets away. Several times she thought she heard someone laughing and while she knew it couldn’t possibly be aimed at her she’d push her head further down a walk faster each time.

Rán knew she’d found the market by the crowds of people milling about she made her way along the various stall buying little trinkets and other goods that took her fancy. The hunt for a replacement pan was proved tougher than she thought it would be and despite looking intently at every stall with pans for sale her prize eluded her at every stall she visited. There were plenty of pots for sale but none of them looked like the pan that Ran had turned green.

Feeling defeated she sat on the edge of a fountain and wandered what to do now. She was never any good at this sort of thing, she never knew what was the best thing to do. It was part of why she liked life at sea, there were always orders. Rán liked orders, even when she didn’t like the orders, she understood orders. If the Boatswain Keryth or maybe Arryn had been here, they would’ve known what to do now whereas Rán just felt at a complete loss and so continued to sit where she was and glumly watch the crowds pass her by.​
 
I quite liked this post I recently wrote

It felt like Ashfa had been walking for hours; at night it was quite hard to tell, even if there were lanterns lighting the area. She was cold, wet and tired, and her anxiety of being in a strange city filled with people who would want to kill her did nothing to abate the feeling of doom and gloom that had settled over her like a dark cloud. There had been a moment when she thought she would get caught by a drunken couple of Khaddorians heading home, but she managed to hide in time.

She had stayed that way until their drunken quarreling had faded into the background before starting off once more. As she came closer to the docks, she could heard the sound of the waves.It filled her with both eagerness as well as sorrow; this hadn't been the way she'd wanted to see the sea. Well, it was night anyway, and with her Valekian eyes she doubted she would see anything but black.

When she finally reached the docks, she realized she was wrong about the water. It was very dark, yes, but as the waves rolled and crashed against each other, they looked like silver horses stampeding forward before disappearing, only to come back again. Ashfa let out a sigh, suddenly finding herself even wearier than before. She looked around, grateful there wasn't anyone around here at the moment. She could see several boats and warehouses that could give her suitable cover for the time being; that was something positive at last.

However, Ashfa finally decided to keep away from both those, not wishing to risk waking up later than she wanted and being surrounded by Khaddorians. Instead, as she wandered through the cold wet sand, she came upon a capsized boat, half sunken in but with more than enough room for her to crawl under and make her temporary bed for night. It wasn't too wet underneath, and with Ylva's coat, she had sufficient warmth anyway.

Lulled to sleep by the crashing waves in the distance, the Valekian finally drifted off to sleep.
 
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I've been pretty fond of this post since I wrote it.

Part of Uriel hoped that Hegashi wouldn't fall for it. It hoped that he would say no, tell him to stay close, that he couldn't stray too far for this or that reason. It hoped that they would pay for these clothes, and they would go home, and Hegashi would fuck the life out of him, like he had promised.

But that didn't happen. Hegashi did fall for it, and Uriel's window for escape was wide open. He could just not take it; he could go and grab a sweater and add it to the pile of clothes they were purchasing, and pretend that he had never thought about running. However, Uriel wasn't stupid enough to chance his freedom just for a man he had met a few days ago, a man who had purchased him from an illegal slave auction. Taking a deep breath, Uriel detached himself from the situation, and focused on one thing only: freedom.

Casting one last furtive glance at Hegashi, Uriel smiled sadly, and slunk off to approach the clothing rack, his diversion. At first, he pretended to genuinely be engrossed by the lame sweaters, filing through the rack. He looked up every now and then to watch for his perfect opening, and all too soon, he found it. Hegashi was chatting away with the cashier, and was pulling out his wallet to pay for the clothes Uriel had made him buy.

Before he had time to talk himself out of it, Uriel bolted.

He shut his mind off. He let the adrenaline fuel his body, and dominate the pain in his legs, so it wouldn't slow him down. He weaved between displays, amber eyes darting helplessly around the store to find the nearest exit. The moment his eyes locked onto it, he picked up speed, running as fast as physically possible. Before he lost himself completely to his primitive drive, he focused on changing his lavender locks to black; unfortunately he struggled with it, this time, and was only able to change part of his hair, instead of all of it. His left ear faded to its natural white, as did a streak near his fringe.

He had absolutely no idea where he was going, but that didn't slow him down. He was running purely on instinct. He knew if he ran for long enough in one direction, he'd eventually find an exit. Before long, his lungs started to burn, and he could feel the cold grasp of anxiety start to creep up his ankles, threatening to pull him under. Was he actually going to be able to escape? Why did he still feel so guilty about leaving Hegashi? Where was he going to go?

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, he felt tears burn in his eyes, but this time he was helpless to stop them from falling. He was in a crowded public place, in a town that he wasn't familiar with, running from the only man who had ever shown him genuine affection. There was nothing about this situation that wasn't worth crying over - not that he currently possessed the focus to stop himself from crying, even if he wanted to.

Uriel wasn't sure just how long he was running until he saw the faintest glimmer of hope in the distance: an exit door. He was close now; once he was out of the mall, he had a much better chance of losing Hegashi completely. Then, he could find a bus terminal, and creep onto a bus that was parked with its doors open, waiting to drive off. Or he could flag down a taxi, and offer to pay his fare with his body. Anything. He would do anything to get out of this wretched place.

But nothing in life was ever this easy.

A hand, one that may as well have apparated from the goddamn ether for all Uriel could see, grabbed his shoulder, and Uriel's world went blank.

This isn't going to hurt. I promise, mon petit chat.

Uriel's eyes went wide, and he stopped breathing. He could feel their fucking breath on his skin, the clammy hands that pushed his shoulders down as they stabbed him in the neck with a syringe full of the drug that would keep him unconscious for over a week. The sensation of one hand turned to two, three, four, all grabbing at him, spreading his legs and leaving bruises on his skin. He couldn't let this happen again. He couldn't, he was stronger than this, he wasn't some little bitch who was going to roll over and let the world do whatever it wanted to him!

Heaving, Uriel spun around swinging, his fist immediately connecting with the face of his supposed assailant with a sickening crack.

Colour faded back into his surroundings as the crowd around him gasped and murmured. The woman he had just hit stumbled backwards onto the ground, staring at him with wide, stunned eyes as she clutched a hand to her face. Uriel's chest continued to heave, as his own eyes widened in response.

"I - I just wanted to know if you were okay," the woman babbled, clearly shaken. Uriel felt his stomach roil as he took a few shaky steps backward. He had just punched an innocent person. An innocent woman, someone who had probably seen how distressed he looked, and wanted to make sure he was all right. Uriel whimpered, covering his mouth, as he stared on in horror.

"N-no," he sputtered, continuing to slowly step away, "No, I need to go. I need to - I need to get out of here. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so --"

Uriel stumbled backward, right into the firm chest of a mall security guard. Shrieking at the unexpected contact, Uriel spun around again, feeling dizzy from all the sudden movement. The behemoth of a man stared down at him, brows furrowed, and Uriel felt sick again. He felt like he was about to crumble; he couldn't regulate his breathing, and the edges of his vision were turning black. He vaguely heard the voice of the woman he had just assaulted in the background, maybe trying to explain away what had just happened, and he watched the lips of the security guard move, but couldn't make out words. His legs were wobbling, his knees threatening to buckle.

"No," he gasped pathetically. "No, no, no. I need to... I need to go..."

"You can't go," said the security officer. "You just assaulted someone. You have to come with me."

"No," Uriel repeated, louder this time. "No, I can't, I --" The wail that ripped out of his lungs as the security officer forcefully pulled both of his arms behind his back was haunting. He shrunk in on himself, tail blown out, ears flat against his head as he hissed pathetically. He tried to squirm out of the man's grip, but it was impossible; he was too strong. He thought, desperately, that he should just shift into a feline and escape, but he couldn't. He couldn't focus on it, and he didn't have the energy; he had wasted it all on changing his fucking hair colour!

He struggled the rest of the way to the security office, which wasn't very far away; that was the only reason the guard was able to approach the situation so quickly. Regardless of actual time, it felt like an eternity to Uriel. It felt like his flesh was burning under the man's massive hands, and he could still feel the presence of his abductors, despite the fact that they were never there to begin with.

"Please, you have to let me go," he pleaded, trying his hardest to sound coherent despite the steady stream of tears pouring down his face. "Please, please, please!" The security guard shut the door behind him, leading Uriel to a chair in front of the office desk. Almost immediately after being seated, Uriel tried to launch back onto his feet and run, but the guard had a firm grip on his shoulder.

"You just assaulted someone," the man repeated gruffly, clearly frustrated with the disobedient little shifter. "You have to stay here until the police come."

Uriel heaved, this time out of nausea, though nothing came up. "No," he babbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "I have to go. You don't understand, I can't stay here, he's going to find me, I --"

He heard a scoff from somewhere else in the room - another guard, maybe? "Listen to him," the other voice mocked. "Is he high, or something?"

The guard holding him down chuckled. "Maybe," he said. "You can never tell with these things."

Uriel hissed again. Things? He was still a person! He wasn't a fucking thing!

"He sounds like a little kitten," the second guard said with a disparaging laugh. "You sure he punched someone?"

"Yup. A lady," said the first guard. "Must be high."

"No!" Uriel shrieked, struggling under the strong grasp of the guard. "I'm not, you don't understand! I need to get out of here before he --"

"What, are you trying to run away from your human?" the first guard asked. Uriel's eyes flew open, red from his tears and wild with fear. His pupils were so constricted that he looked eerie, a pale face swallowed by amber orbs.

"I have no human!" he hissed. This caused both guards to erupt in raucous laughter. Another suffocating emotion bubbled up from the depths of Uriel's mind: humiliation.

"A pretty little thing like you?" asked the first guard. "That's a good one. Looks like the lady might not want to press charges, so if you're good, maybe we'll just release you to your human, and he can deal with you. I'm sure he's looking for you."

"Yeah. Wonder how he let this one slip by? He's probably pissed. Might smack him around a little."

A derisive laugh. "I'd pay to see that."

Uriel struggled in the man's grip again, as the two pigs continued to laugh at his expense. Embarrassment burned hot in his veins. He knew that humans didn't think highly of shifters, but this was so... raw. He was so fragile right now that this taunting, something that would normally roll right off his shoulders, affected him to his core. He let out a pained sob as he realized that, no matter where he was, no matter what he did, this was all he would be. He would always be at risk of becoming some human's slave, some human's plaything. Was there even any point to running away? At least Hegashi would treat him like an equal. At least Hegashi would --

Another sob racked his body. "Hegashi," he rasped, giving both the guards pause as his small body shook with the force of his tears, "I'm so sorry."

and this one, which I wrote more recently:
Eden was, frankly, a bit surprised that Dante was not already dressed, with how impatient he was to leave the house. He chuckled warmly when told - no, commanded - to hurry up, and happily followed behind his excited companion. "Yes, yes," he said affectionately, smiling to himself as he watched Dante, despite all of his eagerness, hesitantly open the front doors. It was as sad as it was endearing, but Eden focused on the positive: Dante would, for the first time, be able to feel the grass beneath his feet, allow fresh air into his lungs. Even though it had taken this long for him to accomplish such a thing, he was experiencing it now, and that was all that mattered.

Eden remained in the doorway as Dante took his first steps outside, not wanting to crowd him. This was something special that he didn't want to intervene with. He watched quietly as the boy took in the fresh air, as realization of the world fully settled upon him, as he touched the grass and laughed genuinely for what Eden felt must be the first time in many moons. His expression was soft, his heart heavy; he was happy to witness such a thing, but it was bitter sweet. He resolved, then, that he would be the one to bring laughter to Dante's life, time and time again.

He was so entranced by Dante that he barely noticed him turn to face him. Eden blinked a few times in order to focus. "Hmm?" Though he had only known Dante for a very short time, he thought it odd to see the boy so timid. Still, he didn't think much of it; he was probably very overwhelmed, and fetching him water was not exactly a demanding task. "Of course," he replied with a dazzling smile. "Wait there, I will be right back."

Eden hummed to himself as he ambled to the dining room, where he poured a generous amount of clean water into a goblet. Though he would need to get some rest soon, he was already looking forward to all of the things he could show to Dante. It almost made him want to forgo sleeping for a while. He chuckled at the thought of him, falling asleep on his feet as he watched over Dante learning the alphabet for the first time. He hadn't expected to need to take on such a fatherly role when he arrived, but he certainly didn't mind.

As Eden rounded the corner to the front entrance, he held the goblet out in front of him, ready to pass it over to Dante.

When he exited the front doors, and noticed that Dante was no where to be found, the goblet shattered into dozens of tiny pieces as it slipped from his hands.

Foolish. Eden had been foolish to trust a human, to trust an art, one with such a clear hatred of his kind. Of course, Dante had wanted to escape; he had been nothing more than a prisoner for his entire life, force fed through an IV, and treated like nothing more than an object! What a fool Eden was! He had played right into Dante's hands, and now the foolish boy was gone, with absolutely no awareness of where he was or where he was to go. Fools, the both of them.

But Eden, at least, was a fool with knowledge, a fool with sense. Dante was merely a fool, a sheltered child, who had no real understanding of how the world worked, and what a dangerous place it could be. It made Eden feel sick, thinking about him alone in the brisk dawn air, at the mercy of his kin, kin who were not nearly as ready to treat humans like peers as he was.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Eden was running, chasing Dante's scent. It was faint, but he could still track it. Dread slowly settled over him the further he was taken into the slums; of course Dante would have run off here. He didn't know any better! He was probably just blindly running in one direction, drunk on the feeling of freedom for the first time in his life. Oh, Eden was angry, but he was also petrified, scared for Dante's well being. The slums were rife with criminals, littered with slime who would love nothing more than to sink their fangs into the unsullied flesh of a young art.

When he heard shouting coming from an alleyway, Eden's blood went cold.

No matter how gentle Eden could be, he was still a vampire, still an Anathema, and was capable of great feats of strength. It took much to make him livid enough enough to lose his composure, which was a good thing; Eden incensed was a sight that, should you be unfortunate enough to behold it, you would never want to witness twice. Some were never even given the opportunity.

If it had not been for Dante's presence, Eden was quite certain that he could have killed the man. There was no doubt; he could rend his flesh with his nails, break his bones with his palms, rip out his windpipe with his teeth. It was only because Dante was there that Eden was reluctant to kill, as the boy was still so vulnerable to influence. He was not, however, reluctant to maim.

Without a word, Eden stormed into the alleyway, his friendly green eyes red with enmity. He could smell the vampire's pheromone, but being kin, it had no effect on him; not like it did on Dante. The fact that this slime dared to use his pheromone on his art only incensed him further. "Get your filthy hands off of him," Eden snarled, sounding like a feral beast. With his bared fangs and flared nostrils, he much looked the part. The vampire whirled around when he heard the threat, ceasing his pheromone and releasing Dante.

For all of his hubris, the vampire paled upon the sight of Eden; Eden who, upon first noticing that Dante was no longer in the way, lunged for his throat, and slammed him against the brick wall with brute strength. The vampire choked, immediately regretting what he had done. Of course that stupid art had an owner nearby!

"You vermin," Eden hissed, slamming the thug's head against the wall, revelling in the crack that echoed within the alley. "You are lucky that I do not want your blood on my hands, boy." As the vampire trembled, fearing for his life, Eden leaned in, poising his lips against his ear. "If I did not want him witnessing such violence," he began, squeezing the coward's throat, "your life would be mine to take." To punctuate such a threat, Eden latched his fangs onto the vampire's ear, and viciously sundered the lobe.

The scream that ripped out of the vampire's chest was music to Eden's ears. He basked in it, shivering in sadistic glee as the cretin tripped over his own feet in his haste to escape, one clammy hand clasping his wounded ear. He remained there, flesh between his teeth, as he listened to those screams slowly fade. It was only after they were nothing more than a crackle in the distance that he spit the foul thing onto the ground, and wiped the blood from his mouth.

Revolting. Yet Eden was not finished. He had another matter to attend to.

"You!" Eden roared, whipping around so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. With keen eyes, he scoured for Dante in the darkness, and when he found his cowering form, he stalked over to him, his heavy footsteps echoing off the walls. "What could you possibly have been thinking?! You weren't! You were not thinking!" Though he was taken by fury, if one looked closely enough, they could see the signs of terror in him: his hands quaked, and his eyes were shiny with the threat of tears. "This is not a safe place for humans, Dante! It is not a safe place for vampires, much the less a vulnerable art who has never stepped foot outside of his house!" Eden's chest heaved, and in an effort to calm himself, he slammed one hand against the wall.

"You terrified me, Dante," Eden croaked, running his other hand through his loose platinum locks. "Do you know what could have happened to you, had I not given chase? That man did not plan to let you leave alive, I assure you." A shaky sigh pushed its way out of his lungs, and with it, the bulk of his anger. All that was left in his veins now was fear and adrenaline. "You are injured, aren't you?" Eden asked, his voice quaking slightly as he beckoned for Dante. "What did you injure yourself with? Let me see."

Though Eden did not like to release his pheromone--which, rather than impose fear on those around him, soothed them, and made them easier to manipulate--he did find the current moment appropriate to secrete the smallest amount. It was not enough to cause Dante to lose all of his free will; just enough to calm him. He doubted, with the terror that no doubt surged in Dante's fragile body, that the boy would come to him willingly, but he needed to look at his wounds. More than that, he needed to keep him close. It was far too dangerous here to allow Dante any sort of freedom. So long as Eden was here, no vampire would be foolish enough to attack him.

I like writing emotional pieces a lot. :E
 
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