#i don't feel real and i mean this in the most scared way possible. it's fucking terrifying

[forgotten-daydreamer]

my toxic trait is that even if a friend of mine, who's going through THE shittiest time of his existence, talks to me daily about his stuff and lets me talk about mine, because we trust each other, and hugs me each time thanking me expicitly and telling me he loves me, i still think that he hates me and talks about me behind my back. and the more i think that it's not logical because he wouldn't tell me the things he tells me were he to hate me, the more i convince myself that i'm just a fool for trusting him, and so on and so forth. i literally have not felt an emotion not drastically different from its polar opposite for longer than 30 seconds over the past 2-3 weeks and i am tired, exhausted, dead.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: gn reader, non - con, kidnapping (hinted)

He's awfully gentle - and perhaps that's what you hate about him the most. The way your tears reduce him to a shell of a man, the way he holds you tenderly, like glass about to shatter from the wind. The way he looks at you - like you're the only person in his small grey world that's made of moving, breathing flesh and fragile breakable bones and splash of incoherent colour all over your cheeks. The way his irises move with feral speed when the ring on your sharp, barking laugh fills the stuffy mold - infested air with life, and his heart all but throbs out of his chest when you push him away.

He holds you at night through the nightmares and the screams, refusing to let go as you fight with all your might to break free, but it's pointless. He knows you - he's studied you, every creek and curve, every dream and fright, every single thing that makes your being tick and purr and surrender. He speaks your language, despite your best efforts to remain hidden, to remain a mystery, he's managed to slice through the protective shield of your psyche, of your most intimate fears, and he's made himself at home in your arms.

It's odd - perverse even, you realize in rare moments of rationale, how used you are now to waking up with his warmth inside of you, nested neatly between your folds; whispering soft little nothings in your flushed ear. Keeping you at the realm between sweet dreams and bitter reality, making you question every fluttering touch, every butterfly kiss against your throat. You're not sure what's real anymore, hot, throbbing pressure pulsating in the middle of your core, the honey nectar dripping down your thighs, back arching in a pleasure - fueled spasm so erratic you're left breathless. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, followed by guilt - ridden shame in a ruthless cycle you have no hope of escaping anymore.

To think it used to be different all those months ago when he first took you in. You would scratch and bite, kicking at will - acting as crazy as possible in hopes he'd find you too difficult to keep. But alas, his gaze never hardened, lips mouthing words of adoration in respond to your countless insults.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, y-you - you maniac!" You'd hiss through clenched teeth, sweat forming under your brows as your whole body stiffened before his naked figure hovering over you, strong muscled arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward mockery of a hug.

"Shh, I know you're scared, my love." He'd caress your hair softly, running his fingers through your wet messy locks, cooing as if you're a cornered animal. "I know you're frightened, but I am not going to hurt you, precious. I love you more than you could possibly imagine. You don't know how long I've dreamt of embracing you." He'd press hot, feverish kisses down your collarbone, stroking your numb fingers until you eventually unclenched your fists. "Just like that, you're doing so good for me, angel, so fucking beatiful for me, just lay back and let me show how much I adore you."

You'd relax your hips slowly, keeping your eyes fixed to the ceiling - yielding to the inevitable, yet making a last pitiful attempt to hide the growing heat between your legs.

"You're so perfect, angel." He'd say, slowly undressing you. "I need to feel you against me. I hope you can forgive me one day - but here, before you, I am just a man. Without you my life would lose all meaning, I can't let you go. Forgive me. Love me, please."

And somehow deep within your heart, you wonder if you truly can.

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 4

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 5

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)

Description: Reader realizes her growing feelings for her traveling companion in Filly.

Notes: Okay, so I am SO proud of this part. Please let me know what you guys think. 

TW: Kinda angsty at the end.

"Find somethin' to do," Cooper says as he makes himself comfortable on a chair, watching the store across from him carefully. 

I huffed and crossed my arms before looking around. "A new shirt would be nice." I thought to myself as I looked down at my mud-covered clothing.

"You got any extra caps?" I asked, leaning up against the side of his chair.

"No." He responds shortly. 

I hummed in response. Just as I started to walk away I felt him grab my wrist, "Don't get into any trouble darlin'." He said, smirking, "Wouldn't want a repeat of last time. You'll scare away my target." 

Embarrassment crept up into my cheeks, "I'll be good." I mumbled. I was not sure If I was telling that to myself or him. Probably both to be honest, but it seemed to satisfy him as he let go of my arm. The last thing I wanted to do was mess up this job for him. He was finally warming up to me, and the idea of ruining that ate at the back of my mind.

Filly was an interesting town. It was packed to the brim with fiends and travelers alike. I couldn't help the nervousness that settled in my stomach as I got farther and farther away from my newfound companion. I felt safe with him, safer than I have ever felt in my life. Most people would think that strange. Safe with a ghoul? I thought back to the man who called me a freak for being with the ghoul as I blushed. He thought we were together. A couple. Butterflies found their way into my stomach as I thought about the possibility. Romance was something that I never thought I would experience beyond the tattered books my brother got me from a wandering trader.

"Stop being stupid, Y/n. He doesn't want you." I thought to myself.

Without any caps, I decided to find a place to sit and lay low. I was determined to stay out of trouble, so I found a nice tree to sit up against while I watched all the people go by. I found watching all the different kinds of people walk through extremely interesting. All different types of hair colors, hairstyles, clothing, and weapons. Not to mention odd couples, siblings, and partners. All the new experiences were overwhelming. I found myself sitting there watching for longer than expected. After I had my fill, I got up from the tree and started heading back to Cooper. 

"Right where I left you," I said to myself as his sitting form became clear. He had his hat covering most of his face, I assumed it was to avoid detection. The last town made it very clear that ghouls were not welcome.

As I made my over to him I saw his head tilt and his eyes peer up at me from under his hat. I smiled at him, "No trouble here."

He snorted in response as his eyes flickered over to the men wrestling each other across the way. "You might be the only one darlin'."

I leaned up against his chair again, letting some weight off of my feet.��"My feet are-" I start to say before a person caught my eye. Her unique outfit and soft hair made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. 

"A vaultie," Cooper responds, anticipating my question before it even forms.

"Those are real?" I gasp before leaning forward, wanting to get closer to her. 

"Yeah, they are real." Cooper sighed as his hand shot back up to my arm. "Don't talk to her."

I frown but I keep quiet as I continue to watch her. He then kicked my foot gently to draw my attention back to him. "I mean it, darlin'."

"Fine," I say sighing as she disappears into the shop across the way. I felt sadness creep into my stomach as his hand dropped down to his lap and went back to fiddling with an empty Jet bottle. The butterflies from earlier returned as I thought about his touch. I bit my lip as I stared up at the sky.

"What has gotten into me?" I thought to myself.

We stayed there in silence for some time before a man and a dog came into town, making his way to the same shop the vaultie was in. I recognized him from the drawing. It was the bounty. I shifted in anticipation as he started making conversation with the vaultie at the front door.

"So now what?" I whispered, excitement laced in my voice. 

"Now... you find somewhere to hide," Cooper said back. "And you don't come out till' I say so, got it?"

I frowned, confused. "Hide?" 

"They ain't gonna let me just take him, darlin'." He responded, shifting in his seat as he readied for action.

The implication was clear. There was going to be another shootout. Not only was I unarmed, but I was unfamiliar with weapons altogether. Hiding was definitely the best course of action for me. 

"Right," I said as I looked around before making my way behind one of the buildings.

Once I was finally out of view I heard Cooper's familiar voice, "Whilzig!" He shouted.

I peeked around the corner to see him walking up to the bounty. At this point, they were too far away for me to hear. I could tell that the people of the town now saw him for what he was as all eyes were on him, a ghoul. "That is a lot of people." I thought to myself. I was starting to worry.

"Now last night a bounty came in through all six agencies!" He shouted again. 

I whipped back around and pressed myself to the building taking deep breaths as I tried to tamp down the panic in my chest. Once the first gunshot rang out I could hear the townspeople scrambling. "Maybe no one will give him any trouble?" I thought to myself. I was being naive again, but I didn't care.

"I got a thousand bottle caps for whoever kills that fucker!" I heard a woman scream out. "But you don't get shit if I kill him first."

"Shit," I whispered. I took one last deep breath before I peeked back around the building. I watched as Cooper moved in a circle, taking count of all the men lining up to fight for those caps. Our eyes met for a moment. While my eyes were filled with fear, his eyes were filled with confidence. He gave me a small smirk before continuing to circle around, waiting for someone to be brave enough to take a shot. 

Once the shots started, all hell broke loose. I could hear wood breaking and bodies being thrown. Some of the ammunition even made its way through the buildings and out the other side. 

In defense, I curled up in a ball on the ground. I was so worried about him that I didn't even realize that I could be shot too.

When there was a brief pause in gunfire, I fought the temptation to look out again. "Don't come out till I say so." His words echoed in my head.

As the shots started up again, I felt something pierce my arm. I fought the urge to shout in pain as tears started to run down my face. One of the men's shots went through the building and into my arm. I look down to see a nail and some wood splinters sticking out of me. 

"Fuck." I whimpered as I cradled the wound trying to take deep breaths.

As I did my best to steady my breathing I heard a robotic voice say, "She said stand down ghoul."

I look around the corner to see a knight making his way towards Cooper, "Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel. Stand down, or be cut down."

I couldn't hear Cooper's response, but I saw a look of disbelief and amusement on his face. 

"Just do what he says, please," I whisper to myself. "Cooper." Just as I finish saying his name he lifts his gun at the girl and the knight makes a run towards her, jumping in front of her to take the bullet. 

I squeeze my teary eyes together as I turn back around. If Cooper was going to be killed by this knight. I didn't want to see it. 

Gunshots rang out again, this time it was just Cooper and the knight. To distract myself I looked back down at my arm, still bleeding. I had no idea what to do so I decided to pull the nail out. I took a deep breath in anticipation before giving it a good, hard yank. I couldn't help the loud cry that escaped my mouth. At the same time, I heard a body fly into some wood nearby. "It's not Cooper, it's not Cooper," I repeated over and over again as I fussed over my arm. 

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but it's hard to walk upstairs while wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." Cooper chuckled.

Relief flooded my body when I heard his voice. The sudden sounds of bullets, explosions, and crashing filled my ears. I closed my eyes tight as I waited for it all to stop.

Eventually, I heard the knight flying overheard, clearly having lost control of his suit. It was over. 

"Y/n?" I heard Cooper yell out. 

I unsteadily got up on my feet and shuffled out from behind the building, still cradling my arm. "I am here."

As his eyes raked me over and stopped at my arm a look of concern washed over his face. He jogged over to take a closer look.

"I'm okay." I try and convince him as he gently touches my wound. 

"Those crocodile tears suggest otherwise, sugar." Cooper responds, giving me a small smile. "Let's find you a stimpack."

I nod my head as he wraps his arm protectively around me and guides me towards the shop. He only lets go when we reach the dog, wounded and whining on the ground. He gently picks it up and brings it into the shop with us. After putting the dog down on the table, he starts to rummage through the junk in the shop. 

"There's gotta be one around here somewhere." He mumbles. 

Between sniffles I say, "When you find one, give it to the dog."

He lets out a small chuckle as he finally finds what he's looking for. "Well lucky for us I found two."

"And the bounty?" I ask as he makes his way towards me.

"Ah, I'll get him," Cooper says, brushing off my concerns before he quickly stabs me with the needle.

"Ouch!" I whine as he rubs my arm while shushing me.

"You are okay, Darlin'." He coos.

"The dog-" I start.

"I got the dog." Cooper interrupts before giving the dog the other stimpack, petting his head gently. A smile erupts across his face as the dog pops up, immediately feeling better. "There."

I smile wide as I watch him with the dog. "You like dogs."

He looks over at me still smiling as his eyes flicker over to my arm. The wound was healed and I am no longer cradling it, the pain completely gone. "Feelin' better?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

All the feelings I had experienced during the shootout came flooding back to me as my smile faded. I felt overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and relief. "I-" I started as tears filled my eyes. 

"I was so worried about you!" I cried out as I ran towards him and wrapped my arms around him. 

Faster than it took to wrap my arms around him, I felt him rip me off. He dug his fingers into my shoulders as he held me at arm's length, shaking me gently. "Don't." He said sternly.

Embarrassment washed over me as I stared down at my feet. "I-"

"Just, don't." He interrupted, sighing before releasing me. "We will wait here until nightfall and then we'll follow Whilzig's trail. See if you can find anything useful around here while we wait."

"Okay," I whispered in response before shuffling to the other end of the store. The rejection stung so deeply that I could barely focus on what I was looking at. Right when he started to warm up to me, I ruined it.

tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay

[ohbo-ohno]

Perv Soap who lets his other teammates grope you as much as they want, as long as they make you cum so that he can condition you to like being treated like this.

perv soap who shares you with his friends oh i am. i am simply unwell

cw for dubcon/noncon and manipulation

you love your boyfriend soap so much, you never want to give him a reason to leave you! and that means that you let a lot of shit slide that you might not with another person. johnny's really pushy in bed (always wanting to do things you try to make clear you're not comfortable with) and he's really into PDA. but every time you ask him to back off he gives you one of two excuses - either something about how his love language is physical touch, or something about how nobody else is even looking and you're totally overreacting

but he's also really sweet, so it's easy to let most things slide. it's hard to remember how uncomfortable you were with his hands under your shirt at dinner when he cuddles up to you so tight in bed <3

johnny always likes to show you off. he'll buy you clothes you'd have never bought on your own, dress you up in little scraps of fabric that make you fidgety and uncomfortable all night :( mini skirts and crop tops, never gives you a bra or underwear to wear with it, wants as much of your skin on display possible

and his friends get this look when they see you. you tell yourself they wouldn't do anything to their friend's girlfriend, but they look at you the same way johnny does - hungry and predatory

ANYWAYS. set up done

johnny sits you on his lap during dinner, stands to go get another round of drinks and drops you onto ghost's lap before he leaves :( lifts you up by the hips, gives you a quick tap on the ass and says watch her, lt, yeah? then just struts off. your face goes hot and you try to move off of him, already muttering apologies, but ghost wraps an arm around your stomach and holds you close to his chest :( rumbles something like stay where your boy put you, love and holds a heavy hand over your bare thigh to keep you still. he's also the one you catch watching you and johnny the most, his gaze heavy and dark.

(johnny keeping you sat on ghost's lap, straddles you - both of you - and makes out with you. ghost's hands run up your sides, occasionally over to johnny, and you can feel him breathing against your neck, hot and heavy. johnny grinds against your stomach until he comes, smiles down at you and finally pulls away, dragging you into his lap for a cuddle)

making out and dancing with soap on the dance floor and you feel another body behind you. you don't think much of it until the person starts grinding, and then you jolt away from johnny to look over your shoulder. it's gaz - smiling down at you and working his hips against your ass in far too sexual ways. you think maybe johnny will scare him off, but he just turns you around and starts leaving hickeys along your neck with his hands keeping your hips moving, so you're stuck sandwiched between the two of them. gaz leans down and you're convinced he's going to kiss you too, go stiff and wide-eyed because you have no idea what you'll do, but instead he just leaves little kisses peppered around your face. and that's not so bad, gaz's lips are soft and the little touches are kinda nice, each one longer and a little wetter than the last. you hardly even notice when he finally kisses your lips, the slide of his tongue soft against yours.

price always scolding johnny for the way he treats you :/ sees all the bruises on your neck and goes you know she's not a chew toy, right son? but soap just smiles real big and hugs you tight to him, says she's whatever i want her to be and you don't really know how to feel about that. johnny gropes you and works you up at a dinner with everyone despite all your whispered complaints and begs that he stop, then leaves you just on the edge of coming. price rolls his eyes from across the table, snaps something about how it's rude to leave a lady wanting, johnny. go ahead and get her off, make it quick. and he does and you're all wiggly and teary in his lap, keep trying to hide your face because you can feel gaz and ghost and price all staring at you :( price calls johnny good boy when you've gone limp

[odinsblog]

“I'm observing such a huge gap between different social groups that I didn't even realize were different. I, you know, most of my friends are in the media. A lot of my journalist friends are just much better informed.

A lot of them have had experience reporting in Israel, Palestine, and are quite critical of both Israel and the antisemitism narrative. Then, like, my wife is a lawyer, and her circle is a little bit different, right? It's not dominated by media people, like people in the law or in other professions seem to be broadly much more kind of taken by the sense of profound insecurity and shift in the American Jewish experience.

I think we sort of see different things, for example, when we watch the hearings in Congress on antisemitism on campus.

The university presidents, of which there have now been two hearings, one with three presidents, one with the president of Colombia, and there will be many, many more. And what I see is a right-wing campaign against higher education that is weaponizing antisemitism as an idea, right? Not antisemitism as a practice.

And what they see is, with the possible exception of the president of Colombia, is people who represent institutions or lead institutions that they feel an affinity with, often institutions that they graduated from, who are not standing up for them. Which I find that viewing of those hearings somewhat shocking because people seem to be turning off their critical faculties. But people, intelligent, educated, politically astute people don't turn off their critical faculties unless they're scared.

So I think the underlying fear is real. But just because it's real, it doesn't mean it's justified.

I think a factual account of what we're seeing on campuses now is that this generation of Americans is far more critical of Israel than their parents' generation. And this is true of both Jews and non-Jews. I think that they look at information available to them and they see a 57-year brutal illegal occupation.

And they don't understand how it's possible that their parents and the politicians that their parents support and the politicians who come and give commencement addresses and all that other stuff that I can say about politicians, how it is possible that these people support that state? I think that is an entirely understandable view. It also reflects a huge generation gap.

I think some of those young people are assholes, and some of them are antisemites. I think it's a small minority of the protesters, and it is not actually part of the critique. The protesters' demands, the protesters' organizing beliefs are not in any way or shape antisemitic.

And then there are Jewish students who were brought up Zionist, who were brought up to identify strongly with the state of Israel, who are, I think, a little bit like my cousin in the settlements again. They see these protests, and even probably the participation of their fellow Jewish students in these protests, as threatening their core identity, as threatening their ties to their families, as threatening everything that they were taught for the first 18 years of their lives is true. And of course they feel rattled, of course they feel unsettled, of course they feel threatened.

Like, wouldn't you, if you felt that everything you had believed in was being turned on its head, and if you, by apparently reasonable people? And so you have a couple of options. One is to look at what the protestors are saying, to engage with the facts, to engage with the critique of everything you've ever believed.

There was a terrific, George Curran's podcast a couple of weeks ago with three Columbia students, one of whom sort of narrated that kind of trajectory, getting to university and finding this stuff out and having their mind blown. That's a very difficult path, and it's a very difficult path, especially if you are, say, a first year student in 23, 24.

And then there's the easier path of staying integrated in your community, in your beliefs, and saying this is antisemitic.

Because unfortunately the things that the protestors are talking about are so horrible that you can't say, okay, let's agree to disagree, that you can't hold both of these things in your mind at the same time.

You can't continue to hold your family's uncritical, long-standing support of Israel, and an understanding of what is happening in Gaza and the occupation that has preceded the war in Gaza.

So yeah, of course they feel rattled. That doesn't mean that they're being surrounded by antisemitism.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses campus protests (part 3 of 3)

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Of All Things, I Became an Aranara

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Aranara with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an aranara

pairing. scaramouche/wanderer x reader, cyno x reader, kaveh x reader, candace x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an aranara today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

While you would have preferred being human, you have to admit there are few things better than turning into an Aranara. You've most assuredly been given Genshin non-humanoid pretty privilege with beautiful powers concerning plants and dreams to boot.

An even bigger benefit is that you can talk, so communicating with humans in this world will be a cinch.

The only thing you can really complain about now is that you aren't really able to handle salt and spices the way you used to. But to be honest, if that's the only thing you have to complain about, you'll gladly settle with being one of the musically-inclined leaf children of the rainforest.

All of whom are your friends despite the predicament you've found yourself in. You may have technically lost the isekai 50/50 but you feel like you've won in a lot of ways too.

Scaramouche

Ironically enough he was one of the easiest individuals on the list to befriend. Why? You met him when his memories were completely reset to zero and he had a much more sweet and calm demeanor

Considering the sharp-tongue Scaramouche you're used to, it honestly gave you whiplash

Still, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the guy, bright eyed and full of wonder. It was the constant abandonments and perceived abandonments that turned Scara into the person he came

You accompany him when he regains his memories, after which he assumes that now you know the extent of his true character and the things he's done that you'll leave him now. he even encourages you to do so, shooing you away

you plopping your small self across his shoulder and telling him he's your best friend means a lot to him, even if he tells you in response that you're an idiot but you can do as you wish

Before and after regaining his memories, Scara is very clingy. Before regaining them, he slept with you nestled to his chest much like a child would a teddy bear. Afterwards, he considers it too soft and embarrassing to do so but if you snuggle up against him well, he won't stop you

Once you got lost while exploring and when you didn't come back within the time he expected you to, he grew quite panicked and nearly turned the entire forest upside down trying to find you

When he did, you were promptly scolded for making him have to look for you. What's the matter with you? Don't go traveling somewhere unfamiliar or you'll just make him have to waste time backtracking to look for you

(He was scared that you had gotten eaten or hurt or worse, that you decided to no longer travel with him, leaving him to be alone all over again)

Whenever he has nightmares, you turn his dreams into ones much happier. He tells you to stay out of his head but he appreciates the fanciful worlds you craft for him

You're also quite handy when he needs to avoid his new fanbase from the Akademiya. Taking him to the dream world to avoid talking to people is quite a useful trick of yours

But as it turns out, Scaramouche is quite popular with the Aranara and they all love to indulge him. So you kinda have some competition

You can't believe you're actually getting jealous of Aranaras. Wow, how the mighty have fallen

Cyno

A son of the desert who grew up in the rainforest, Cyno heard of stories regarding the Aranara but he never thought they'd be real. But as far as he is concerned, you're as much a citizen of Sumeru as he is

So Cyno quickly rolls with the punches and treats you accordingly with respect. Talk about a win!

But as far as you being a travel companion? Cyno isn't entirely sure since his work concerns apprehending wayward scholars and their affiliates. It's dangerous, so unless you can prove yourself to be sturdy enough to protect yourself, he'll tell discourage you from following him

Of course, he can't rightly force a creature of Dendro and dreams from doing that anyway if you stubbornly continue on with him

Thankfully, you can set his worries aside when you show not only are you adorable, but resourceful, using your powers of Dendro to apprehend criminals attempting to flee the scene when Cyno arrives (all while staying hidden in the realm of dreams. You're not trying to put a target on the back of every Aranara after all)

That aside, you don't really have any troubles with Cyno. When he rests by campfire, he will make sure you stay a comfortable distance from the flames and will teach you about GI TCG and will even tell you a joke or two (or three)

Cyno is a reliable companion. He'll protect you if you are under his protection but he doesn't make you feel less than because you're not human either

But when he isn't in work mode, he is very sweet and even let's you wear his headdress from time to time as long as you are careful with it. In return you place flower crowns atop his head

Is another protective companion. As one brought from the desert to the rainforest for the sake of experiments, Cyno knows what could happen should those at the Akademiya find out that Aranaras are more than just a tale for children

So he always makes sure you aren't sighted by those he cannot trust

Kaveh

Meeting Kaveh was a bit of an accident as you had to help disentangle from a mess of vines

For someone blessed with the power of Dendro, he isn't really one who naturally has an affinity for plants

As such, he is embarrassed when you find him in this situation. Embarrassed and quite amazed to find out that Aranara aren't just stories. One getting him out of a mess like this isn't really how Kaveh ever imagined meeting one back when he was a child

That aside, Kaveh straightens himself out, thanks you and honestly he tries to be polite about it but he has plenty of questions about your being an Aranara that you can't really answer outside of lore you got from the game

You tell him that you'll look out for him when he is prancing about the rainforest so he can avoid these sorts of mishaps in the future which he insists is unnecessary

But you're not trying to be stuck living in nature forever, you want to make sure you have guaranteed safety. It also helps that if you're going to attach yourself to a human in the game, they aren't just some random NPC. A player character comes with a certain level of stability you appreciate

Kaveh's too good an opportunity to pass up and Mehrak is quite cute too. Win-win situation

Out of everyone here though sadly, Kaveh treats you most like a pet. Something no one wants to get from a hot guy even if you understand why he treats you so

At least he gives you plenty of sweets to eat?

You become a surprising point of comfort for Kaveh when he grows frustrated with his roommate. You tend to use your powers of Dendro to weave flowers through his hair during those moments and listen when he vents

You think his kindness does him more harm than good and that he tends to be his worst critic, so you tell Kaveh to be kinder to himself

Candace

A desert really isn't the place for an Aranara but you stubbornly decided to try your luck at it anyway against your better judgement (and the advice of your fellow Aranara)

But a couple of near death experiences aside, you think you made a good decision when you get to Aaru Village. The children there are very sweet and fascinated by you, having never seen an Aranara themselves

So you become quite popular among them, making them all sweet dreams and becoming a sort of... Guardian, one might say

You also help maintain the few plantlife of Aaru Village from Sabbah's flowers to the ajilenakh trees

It isn't much work but it's honest work

Candace thought nothing of it, thinking it was cute for the children of the village to have something to talk about

Then she ran into you trying (and failing) to get some food from the storage and that is how you were discovered by the actual Guardian of Aaru Village

Despite that little mishap, Candace is sweet to you and presents to you the same rules she gives all guests of Aaru. She also appreciates you helping with the children

So she doesn't disagree when you label yourselves as a sort of duo protecting everyone in different ways

Candace seldom has time to rest or enjoy any sort of personal time, so you try to be her invisible company in the day and you pester her to take breaks

You'd threaten to keep her contained in vines to make her take a break but you know she is infinitely stronger than your own abilities

How else can she fight monsters for hours at a time without tiring?

Still if you're at that level of desperate to make her rest, Candace promises to take more breaks along the day and rely more on her fellow guards

[mono-dot-jpeg]

bad decisions - i. sae, b. meguru & m. reo

summary; let's make some bad decisions.

genre/extra tags; rambling post?/scenarios???, fluff but not really, diet fluff, and diet angst, late night thoughts combined with day light thoughts, might be ooc

a/n; im gonna go out on a limb here and say you dont want yandere obsessive tendencies in the relationship (i dont write yandere bc i hate that trope and i dont understand the appeal). i only did three bc this was all i can think of, im so sorry- hope you enjoy this either way. thank you for requesting and for your patience.

i think we all saw this coming when i say, sae probably gotta have some odd habits and thoughts when it comes to being a relationship. he's precise and serious in his soccer, and that bleeds into his relationships. it has nothing to you, no, not when he's so used to seeing into every detail and every possibility. he keeps trying to predict what you will do, and then you surprise him when it's not what he expected. most of the time, this happens when you're just doing something without much thought. he gets kind of weird about it though, he just blue-screens and had to take a moment before asking what is wrong with you because you didn't do the thing he expected. you have to tell him that this is just how you are, and he refuses to be outsmarted by his partner when he's usually the one with the brain cell between you two.

he feels the need to check on you a lot because he doesn't express it outright. he observes you like he's in a game match. it's cute at first but then you realize, "oh god he's really paying attention a little too well..."

he hates if you ever even try to interact with rin. he is one jealous little shit. if he's in a good mood [which is hard to tell with him], you have like a higher chance of talking to rin. but most days, he's keeping you away from him.

bachira is unpredictable and he's crazy. he loves you a lot. and i mean a lot. he's extremely clingy towards things he cherishes and that probably stems from the lack of friends he had back then and he's just scared to lose you. but sometimes he really impedes on the day-to-day routine. he needs reassurance when you're gone. he texts you a lot. very standard clingy person.

he feels the need to be a guard dog. he's possessive but not in the way sae would be with his jealously. no, bachira is possessive but he's confident that he will keep you protected from others. but also he loves to wreak havoc so he likes being loud about being clingy and protective. it can get overwhelming.

i'm gonna be real, this one is short because bachira's traits could probably be pretty amplified in a relationship and honestly, i would go as far as to think that most of his traits would just be either better or worse in a relationship.

overbearing. that should be enough to explain it.

he's got a weird complex with him. at least that is what i think. he really stuck with nagi a lot, and i think he would do the same in a romantic relationship. he's gotten too used to coddling nagi and he does the same to you. he spoils you. and it's great at first, but it can be a lot at once. and honestly i think he feels the need to compensate for something. what is the thing he's compensating for? i don't know, but he gives me those "compensating for something with money" vibes.

i think it's safe to say that all the boys have a pride to uphold and reo is no different. he hates being inactive. he wants to help you all the time. and i mean all the time. he wants to be useful but he goes at it terribly. he wants to be relied on.

is it crazy to say that i think reo is the worst out of the three here? probably but whatever.

[xxdedboixx]

Gn werewolf x gn reader

Cw: stalking, masturbation, (slight) manipulation

Imagine you're scrolling though a werewolf partner subreddit or Tumblr tag and you notice someone has posted "adorable werewolf partner. Free to loving home".

What sane person would possibly give up a werewolf? Somehow there's no comments? What sane person wouldn't want a free werewolf lover?? It doesn't even occur to you to think that something could be wrong with them.

So you send the user a message. Unknown to you however the werewolf is the one who sees the message. You see, they put up the advert. Their last partner dumped them because.... They can get a little out of hand. They're just so obsessive, clingy and hardly let them leave the house. They just couldn't help it. After all wolves are pack animals and they just didn't want to be separated from the only pack they had. Eventually their lover got the cops involved and now the werewolf isn't allowed to even be in the same town as them.

An almost immediate response pops up on your phone. "Where should I drop them off?"

Now you aren't completely stupid so you don't give your address but rather, a park a short drive away. Not to actually commit to it or anything. No way... Just to meet with them. See what your potential partner is like. After all there's no way you'd get with someone you just met.

The werewolf is absolutely elated when you agree to meet up and even send them a photo of you. In return they send a photo of themselves... before their previous break up. They had put on muscle during their last relationship, they needed to when their lover would try so hard to escape all the time. They had to show off just how capable and strong they were. But what if how big and intimidating they looked scared you off? No, not worth the risk. So instead you received a photo of a slightly muscular but average looking werewolf. They even went out of their way to look shorter than normal. More like 5'8 rather than their true size of almost 6ft.

After a short conversation you admit to being a little into the obsessive nature that werewolves are portrayed to have. That was the last nail in the coffin. You would never escape this beast. After all, you basically just gave permission to be obsessed over right? From now on the werewolf would just think that any time you resisted or pretended to not like it was just to play hard to get. Wolves love a chase after all.

Eventually the day comes for you to meet them. You're a mess. Blushing, sweating, absolutely scared shitless. What if you've been catfished? What if they're secretly a kidnapper? What if it's all an elaborate prank? You stand alone for what feels like forever. The meet up time comes and passes. They don't show up. Eventually you grow tired of waiting and return home.

So incredibly frustrated you decide to take it out with a... Distraction. The large knotted dildo would just have to do, after all the real thing didn't show. Unbeknownst to you, they did plan on showing up but the sight of you and your scent rolling through the breeze down to them just made them too flustered to show their face. Instead they decided to stalk you. Visit your home and watch with wide and blow out eyes as you sunk the knotted dildo deeper and deeper inside of you. A low growl vibrated through their chest. So you did really mean it huh? You were into werewolves?

The growl reverberated so loudly outside that even with human ears you heard it. Now this obviously made you even more frustrated. You just got stood up by a werewolf and now someone else was neglecting the needs of theirs!? It wasn't fair! You slowly stand and make your way to the window to shout out at them.

"Someone take care of their pup before I steal them from you!" Sure, maybe it wasn't the most rational thing to say and your neighbours probably thought you were insane but I mean come on! You have already been so pent up and now your one chance was a dud?

To the werewolf watching carefully from a shadow however this was an invitation. So once you laid back down they slowly made their way to your window. A small knock and a whine had you shooting up right yet again, even more frustrated. But then your eyes catch theirs and holy shit... It's them? Your pup has shown up at your window when you need them most?

The gods must have blessed you tonight. Or perhaps damned you...

[zara-renata]

Alike and Cornered Beast: Sylus's POV

Summary:

I was desperate for Sylus's point of view during the first time that MC meets him in the Alike and Cornered Beast chapters of Long-Awaited Revelry. So I uh wrote it myself. I wanted to know why he touches MC so reverently but also quite brutally, so I spent a lot of time thinking about possibilities.

A/N:

Sylus x gender neutral reader/MC, second person POV (but we don't use Y/N in this house). Brief, derisive mentions of Xavier and Zayne (this is Sylus's POV after all, don't come for me). I love all the LIs, but Sylus has his hand wrapped around my throat and I see him as arrogantly having something to say about the other people who are also interested in his shiny treasure. He has mean thoughts about the other LIs, but he can be mean and we love that for him. Slightly canon divergent if you believe Sylus can't tell that MC is scared and repulsed by him until the shopkeeper informs him. I however believe this man is a little more perceptive than that. CW: violence, cursing, rude language, death, grief, murder, ok this is Sylus hello, non-consensual (non-sexual) touching of MC, metaphors involving hunger and blood, overuse of the word "lovely," but Sylus is a simp and it's mostly his POV so we must endure it. SFW, although clearly there is a thread of desire running beneath the interactions depicted ao3 link here

He doesn’t need the aether core in his eye to know how you're feeling. He can see it in the way your lovely jaw is locked tight, teeth clenched behind soft lips twisted into a tight line. The shudder you’re trying and failing spectacularly to repress, desperate to conceal your weakness: the fact that almost as much as you fear him, you hate him.

Almost from the very beginning, things have been going sideways for Sylus. First, that imbecile having the hubris to believe he could just pilfer what had clearly been claimed as belonging to Onychinus.

Second, the palpable fear that had juddered through you as he had graciously relieved the larcenist of the burden of his pathetic life, only for that fear to flare into bright, barely controlled hate once you figured out that using yourself as bait had succeeded in reeling in the largest predator in the N109 zone.

Third, even when he sauntered close to you, allowing you to drink your fill of his face, no other spark of recognition fired besides that of the leader of the most powerful criminal organization in the region. You didn’t recognize him personally at all, even as he hungrily mapped your face with his eyes and felt the bottomless well of want deepen even further in his heartless chest.

You didn’t remember a fucking thing. And for some reason, you hated him more than his worst enemies. And he had quite a large body count in the worst enemy column of the ledger of his existence.

The fear, he can understand. Onychinus is on the Hunter Association’s Naughty List, and you’re one of the Association’s true believers, a jewel in the hilt of their blade composed of naïve warriors. And like the noble, naïve creature he knows you to be, you firmly believe that any intel they fed you about him and his organization was the pure, unfiltered truth.

But the hate? He muses as he looks down into your upturned face, a face that has been carved into his dreams for weeks now, ever since Mephisto had reported back after scouting the Flux Nexus in the no-hunt zone. Ever since the night he finally found you, stumbling around and battling at the side of your sleepy, cunning rabbit of a partner in the dark wood, oblivious to the real danger perched amongst the leaves, watching through mechanical eyes. His lips twitch in an ironic smile, as he knows he should be grateful to the rabbit for the fact that you’re in front of him now, so agonizingly close. He can see the rise and fall of your chest. The breath you exhale, for him to inhale. All he has to do is let his hand do what it wants—reach out, fingertips drifting softly along the curve of your cheek, your throat, the pulse point that betrays your racing heart. You’re close enough that he could swallow you whole. A good man might be grateful, but he isn’t a good man, and he doesn’t have it in him to be grateful; he only catalogues the threat, and tucks away the thought of the light evolver to be a problem to contemplate, and solve, another day. Right now, he needs to solve the problem of why you hate him on a level that professional distaste can’t explain. The hate he sees in your bright, sharp eyes is personal.

Consequently, he might not need the aether core in his eye to know that you hate him, but he sure as hell needs it to figure out why.

He knows he should wait to use his power on you. He knows that strategically, the best play here is to move slowly, to rebuild your trust, to tease out what he wants from you, to prove to you that despite every instinct that the Association has indoctrinated in you, he is not a threat to you and never will be. He knows all too well that one can’t force trust and forge an equal relationship from coercion, but he doesn’t have the time. Not with the entire Nest on the hunt for his Prey tonight, not with his own house in chaos with Sherman running amok and running up the bill on collateral damage. He needs to know why you hate him so that he can deal with it now, all of it. To borrow the vocabulary of another one of your hapless suitors: now is the time for triage, and after he has assessed the carnage, then he will begin suturing the aftermath. Sylus may be a businessman, but he can appreciate a surgeon’s precision in approaching a crisis. Even if Sylus can’t appreciate the iceman himself, if only for the lingering looks the doctor indulges in when his patient is looking the other way. Sylus files this problem away, like the other, to be solved in quiet solitude another day.

So he indulges in a lingering look of his own, fingers twitching with the need to touch where they’re deceptively, casually resting on his hips. And then: Sylus lets himself look. He can feel the familiar warmth increase within his eye socket, the ember beginning to glow hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable, and then truly unbearable, as it is every time, the price he must pay so that he may see.

A little silver apple on a chain.

A pair of smiling eyes.

An old woman’s hand placing a dumpling on a plate.

The relief of realizing that the danger has dissipated, and dinner is still waiting.

A strong, broad back, shoulders shaking with laughter as a door swings shut.

Almost from the very beginning, things have gone sideways for Sylus. He shuts his eyes, feels the heat and the pressure fade like grief with time, as the power in his aether core goes dormant once again. But you haven’t had time, have you? It’s still fresh, the wound still hemorrhaging. You think that he caused this. You’ve been bleeding for months, thinking it was his hand that wielded the knife lodged in your heart. Or rather, detonated the bomb that incinerated the only family you’ve ever known, leaving a smoking crater where your heart used to be.

Sylus’s mind races, compiling this new information, archiving the whys and hows, constructing and reconstructing his carefully assembled plans and all of the contingencies in between, laughing derisively at himself for not seeing this possibility coming. Sideways is an understatement. Things are well and truly fucked, Sylus thinks, looking into your lovely, livid face.

For a moment, an unfamiliar sensation drifts through his chest. He tests it gingerly, letting it cascade through him before he can identify it: despair. After all this time. Every year, month, week, day, second, breath, he has been carving a path towards you, littered with the broken dreams and broken bodies of others, and now he has finally found you, and what should have been his greatest victory (the spoils? His fingertips drifting up your silken skin, his fingers entwined with yours, home), may have been his greatest loss—a loss that is for once, despite all of his crimes and all of the corpses at his feet, every terrible thing he has ever done, not his fault at all.

He savors this strange feeling for a few heartbeats, indulging in it, pressing into it like a bruise, if bruises would actually remain under his skin. And then he discards it: the unexpected rarely obstructs his carefully laid plans, but nothing about you has ever been expected, has it? If he were the kind of man to resign himself to unexpected loss, like the other men clumsily flitting around you, he’d have been a dead trophy tossed at the feet of an enemy long ago. So the rules of the game have changed. So what? Sylus will adapt, because no matter his fucking luck, he is playing to win.

Because while gazing into the depths of your beloved eyes, Sylus not only saw the why of your hate, but the only thing that could soothe it. Something that you refuse to admit, even to your fundamentally honest self. Something you can’t admit, as you spend insomniac nights training until collapse, as you slice, maim, and end wanderer after wanderer, as you bare your teeth a little too savagely as blood spills beneath your fist and blade. You need vengeance. You need someone to hurt as much as you’re hurting. And not just anyone—the wanderers and criminals that you’ve trained your fists and pistols and blade on do not satisfy the blood-thirst burning through your veins. You need to punish the person responsible for the inferno in your chest. Maybe then you’ll be able to sleep again. Maybe then you’ll be able to not smile again, but at least retract the fangs that have been frightening the people around you for months now. The fangs you feared were always there, underneath the careful façade of the well-adjusted, law-abiding, healthy paragon of a hunter you’ve built to keep the nightmares at bay for years, to show your colleagues, your partner, your doctor and your superiors: Look, I’m harmless and righteous, the perfect tool, love me, love me, love me, please do not leave like everyone else I've ever loved.

And Sylus? Sylus has always, and will always, endeavor to give you everything your damaged heart could possibly desire. He knows that you will not believe that he was not the one who ripped your ‘family’ apart. And he knows that it will take time, time that he does not currently have, to rebuild what has been lost between the two of you. He recalibrates, sweeps aside the despair, and reinforces his resolve. If you want to exact vengeance on the person you think is responsible for all of your indescribable pain, Sylus will give his heart to you on a bloody platter, regardless of the pain it will cost him.

You need someone to hate right now to stay strong? So be it. He will be that for you, until he can locate the actual culprit. As he reaches out, ever so gently trailing the backs of his fingers along your hauntingly lovely face, he tells himself for a moment that he can't bring himself to use something so impersonal as the energy of his evol on you. But who is he kidding--Sylus is many things, but a liar is not one of them. He admits to himself that this is just him finally giving into his deepest desire, as he lets his hand drift from your face to the side of your neck, closing around your throat and lifting. He does not want to handle your precious form with such brute, concise strength, but he needs to hurry, he needs answers and he needs to fix this, now now now and you need him to be the enemy. This is what is best for you at this moment, in this place, and he only ever wants what is best for you, so he plays the part you need him to play:

"From your past to your future...to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. After all, you and I...we're the same. True kindred spirits."

As your body goes limp from his chokehold on you, he catches you, cradling your head in his hand, grateful for the strength of his body, the shelter he can provide you as he lifts you in his arms, holds you tightly, your chests finally close again, yours too full of a maimed heart and his missing one entirely, complementing each other, completing each other, even though you’re out cold and it will take so much—too much, too much, it’s already been too much time, you’re finally here, you’re finally in his arms, where you should have been all along—time to be able to have you in his arms like this but with your eyes wide open and fixed on his.

Later, when you wake up, in a dark room with this familiar stranger disdainfully staring you down through crimson eyes, as his evol winds itself around you, as it jerks you onto his big lap, you clench your teeth, you fight the tears of frustration and fury—why do you always cry when you’re angry? Is it not humiliating enough to lose control of the leash on your emotions, without tears spilling down your face to betray you to the object of your rage?­—and you fight desperately against the immovable force pinning you in place.

"I want to kill you myself," you grit out, through the tears and the snot running down your face.

And then this man places your gun in your hand, eyes bright as blood never leaving yours, in answer to the quietest, deepest buried desire of your limping heart that he has driven you to saying out loud. Your hate flares, because how dare he expose you to yourself in this manner? Who does this motherfucker think he is, casually extracting from your own mouth and offering you that which you couldn’t before name in hushed whispers, as if it means nothing to him, as if it costs him nothing, his sharp jaw relaxed, a ghost of a smirk curling the edges of his wide mouth? You fight it, the surge of hunger that chokes your panting breath—you fight it so hard, you’ve been fighting it for so long, ever since the piercing ringing in your ears began to sound that replaced your grandmother’s and Caleb’s laughter, the ringing silence that followed as debris rained down on your useless, injured body. You are not a mindless animal. You will not give in to this voracious want. You and this man holding your gun to his own heart are not the same, and never will be.

“Do you need some help? Yes? No? Maybe so?” His voice is the purr of a jungle cat, his hand, large and just as calloused as yours, envelops your own, with that same bizarre gentleness that you can’t even begin to interpret the why of, his finger drifting along your own, until it slowly tightens over yours. Your mouth says “No,” and you see how his eyes dart from yours to your lips and back again, but the hunger inside you howls as this man presses your finger against the trigger and the sound of the bullet leaving your gun drowns out all of the other noise in the cacophony of your thundering heart.

His big body jerks back, head hitting with a painful sounding thump against his melodramatic throne (ok, so it's just an antique chair, but honestly, where do villains buy ridiculous props like this?), and for an endless moment in time, the hunger is satiated, and a sense of triumphant relief courses through you instead. And then your vision sharpens, as blood the color of this man’s eyes begins to pour through the hole he—and you, we, together—just shot into his fucking heart.

He jerks the gun from your grasp and tosses it with a loud clatter to the concrete floor.

“You—Are you fucking crazy?” You’re moving before you realize it, palms pressed over his heart (a spiteful part of you hopes that it hurts him, even as you are suddenly overwhelmed with the terror that he is actually going to die, before you get any answers, before you get any help, before you’ve accomplished anything at all).

“You wanted to take my life,” he pants. It never hurts any less, no matter how many times it happens. He can feel his flesh knitting back together already, each stitch as painful as the one before. “And so you’ve taken it.”

Despite the pain, Sylus watches you leisurely, drinking in the blood splatters across your lovely neck and chin. My blood, he thinks with satisfaction. He wants to soak you in it. He wants to watch you bathe in it. He shakes his head, tucking that urge away for later contemplation. He is finally in the position to do what he has been craving for so, so long. He has given you what you want. Of course he will always give you what you want. However, that doesn’t mean that he can’t simultaneously get what he wants—Sylus strongly prefers deals when they’re win-win. He has given you what you wanted, and the slate is now clean. Now, it is time to begin negotiation of the highest stakes deal of his life: the acquisition of your body, heart and soul. Back at his side, where you belong.

“Now what? Have you already figured out how you’ll pay me back?”

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do "You need someone to take care of you." And "If they touch you, I'll kill them. It's that simple." With platonic dogday?

Sure! I haven't written for Smiling Critters in a while. For context, this is my version of DogDay.

Prompts Here

My Version of DogDay

Yandere! Platonic! DogDay Prompts

"You need someone to take care of you."

"If they touch you, I'll kill them. It's that simple."

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Experimentation, Blood, Kidnapping, Murder, Forced companionship.

Ever since he was first created, DogDay was fond of you. You were the first face he saw upon his successful creation. A scientist and caretaker who worked at Playcare.

Playtime Co. had always experimented with creating life. They had made countless creatures combined with toys. The Smiling Critters line was merely one success.

DogDay was always told he was meant to be the leader. He was meant to lead his fellow Smiling Critters and take care of the kids. Naive upon his creation... He followed every order.

Unlike most adults in this place, you were surprisingly humane to the Smiling Critter experiments. You viewed every single one of them as your children in a way. They were no doubt one of the greatest outcomes in this place.

DogDay was the one who imprinted on you the most. Plush form or not, the dog followed you like you're his master. To him, you were... You gave him life and care!

He wishes to show you how much he cares!

It was a common sight for DogDay to follow you. You could be doing paperwork and the living mascot enters the room to watch you. You tell him he should be watching the kids in the orphanage, but he doesn't listen.

A dog should be loyal to his master. His friends have the children covered! Why don't you let him care for you too?

DogDay never leaves you be, often smothering you with affection. Even after experiments, the dog comes to you for comfort. You mean everything to him.

Especially when his world comes crashing down.

DogDay lived a happy life until the Hour of Joy. Afterwards... there was nothing but chaos. Experiments went haywire and frenzied. It became a revolution.

He nearly lost sight of you.

The Hour of Joy only brought massacre to Playtime Co. Many died, humans and experiments alike. In fact, many of the Smiling Critters didn't survive except CatNap and DogDay.

Blood coated every wall and floor. Most humans who couldn't escape were devoured. Even the once happy sight of Playcare looked like Hell.

As you were trying to escape, you avoided the experiments the best you could. You snuck through halls and did your best to make it out of the Playcare. Only to hear the heavy sound of footsteps approach you from behind.

"Where are you going?"

The voice is deep yet familiar, causing you to turn around. Towering over you stood DogDay, the Smiling Critter always attached to your hip. He looked concerned, looking you over with a worried expression.

"You... You aren't leaving, right?" The large orange dog monster asks, stalking closer. "You can't survive out there alone—!"

You shuffle back, keeping your distance. DogDay appears hurt by your reluctance. The large Smiling Critter tries not to make sudden movements... slowly backing you into a corner with that worried smile on his face.

"You need someone to take care of you." DogDay pleads, wishing you'd stop being so skittish. There's no way you'd abandon him, right? You... You can't—!

You won't survive a second in this Hell.

"Why are you so scared...?" DogDay whimpers, tail swaying as he keeps trying to get closer. "You should feel lucky I found you! I'll always find you, angel...."

You go to run but DogDay notices, eyes widening as he cuts you off. He can't just let you leave, can he? Not with all the bloodshed...

They'd eat you alive out there.

"Please, angel, listen to your pal...!" DogDay whimpers, the sound strangely like that of a real canine. "If you leave, you'll get hurt! You don't want that do you? Plus... you'd never abandon your pal, right?"

DogDay manages to get close enough to pull you into his furred chest, tail thumping against the door you desperately wanted to get through. The smell of blood, musk, and the faintest hint if vanilla meets your nose. You push against the beast, but his grip doesn't relent.

"The others out there would tear you apart..." DogDay murmurs before squeezing you tighter. "But don't worry! I'll protect you..."

You're then scooped up into the large dog's arms, dragging you along with him back into Playcare. You struggle but he never lets you go. After all... to him, this is your home.

"If they touch you, I'll kill them. It's that simple!" DogDay chirps as though what he said was innocent. He said it as though that was meant to be endearing. He really was like a dog with their owner.

DogDay wants you happy, safe, and beside him. He knows you'd never abandon him deep in this facility. He's meant to protect you, defend you with his life, show you he loves you...

While DogDay thinks of ways to care for you, to keep his sanity in this place by clinging to you, you stare at the exit longingly. You doubt anywhere is safe. You're pretty sure you'll die here...

Yet DogDay, no matter what, will remain loyal to only you in the end...

A good dog should do anything to stay beside his master.

[hvly]

WINDBREAKER VIRGINS YOU SAY 👀👀👀

— ⋆｡˚｡⋆ ｡˚ 𓆩𖥔𓆪 ˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆ —

speaking : yep, you heard right 🙂‍↕️ every show/manga i read is gonna get hit with my virgin ray. "i love virgins, anon ! I LOVE VIRGIIINS !"

𓆩𖥔𓆪 — disclaimer ! these are just my opinions ! if you disagree, cool. let's keep it cute. tbh, they all could be virgins, but they’re the most pressing in my eyes.

Nirei Akihiko

Don't get me wrong, I like Nirei alot ! I think he's super cute and he's so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. But, until his confidence goes up, ain't nothing going down. i do think he has a separate notebook with sex tips that's he gathered from various sources. From friends he worked up the courage to ask, to Cosmo articles, to the pornos he watches on lonely nights. When he finally get brave enough to try though, best believe he'll be prepared for any possible scenario.

Sugishita Kyotaro

Again, I feel like perhaps because he's tall, quiet and handsome, y'all think he'd be laying pipe. I mean, the quiet ones are usually the nastiest in bed, right? extremely loud incorrect buzzer. It'd be a miracle to actually get a sentence out of him. And it'd be another miracle to convince him to come shake the sheets instead of playing Umemiya's shadow. The plants he takes care of have a better chance getting wet by him than you ever will.

Tsugeura Taiga

Straight up, he just scares away any possible suitors. Plus, he's a little slow on the uptake. Between being loud and a bit off putting, and his his inability to catch social cues, he is unfortunately stuck in perpetual virgindom. That's it, that's all.

Sakura Haruka

Now, put the torches and pitchforks down before y'all drag me to the town square. How do we as a collective think Sakura would react if he saw you naked? Stand there reveling in the majesty that is you, dick so hard he might pass out? No. He'd turn red and start yelling before you even get your shoes off. Get him more comfortable with being romantic/sexual, and i’m sure the yelling, stomping, flailing and cherry red blush will die down…in a couple years. Best of luck !

Saku Mizuki

Wannabe General Mizuki. The minute I saw him, I knew he was getting NO pussy. And that makes me sad for him, it truly does. He's too stiff. If, for some odd reason on your part, you decided to lay the moves on him, he'd probably lecture you on how it's inappropriate to shamelessly flirt with people. He'd kill the mood so bad. Plus that one dude called him ugly and he turned around..oof

Takiishi Chika

Take this one with a grain of salt, but from what I've gathered...he just would not be interested. I'm sure Endo has tried bringing it to his attention before. And I'm also sure he got the fire knocked out his ass as soon as it left his mouth. Now, if does decide to get his dick wet, I hope you're fully resigned to letting him do whatever he wants and possibly leaving unsatisfied. Utter anything that sounds like you're telling him what to do? Let's leave getting beat up to Endo, mkay?

Shuhei Suzuri

I think he finds fulfillment and joy in his hobbies and that's all he needs. Being able to cook for people and enjoy his games gives him the satisfaction he was missing when he was in extreme poverty. I'm sure he wouldn't really mind losing his virginity either way, but it's definitely not on the forefront of his mind. A consistently full belly and a couple video games is good enough for now.

Choji Tomiyama

He thinks everything is a game and plays entirely too much to just be fucking for real. And I think he's fine with that ! He's carefree and he's content knocking people's heads together. I do think you could probably get him to give losing his virginity a true shot if you compare him to Umemiya or make it a competition, though. But who's gonna do all that to nut? (I really just added him to make one specific person mad. Let me know if it worked <3)

Honorable Mention : Togame Jo & Umemiya Hajime

Just cuz I want to be the one to take their virginity. I have no real reason LMAOOO.

© 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 hvly 2024. 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧y.

[blorbocedes]

ok hear me out.... totally crazy idea.... max / lando mind games

Lando stops from where he's grinding against Max's thigh to look up hesitantly. "Hey, you're not like, mad at me from last week's radio, right? Cause Daniel was saying in the media..."

Max is broken out of his spacing out, blinking and then frowning as he registers Lando's words. "I have not spoken to Daniel." His hand curls against Lando's thigh.

Lando nods. Right. Cause it would be pretty awkward of them to be doing this if Max was mad at him. Max's thigh is a solid weight under him and his dick is missing the friction already. They're not supposed to have sex during race week so they improvise. This is basically building core strength for Lando.

"So, we're cool." Lando says nonchalantly, squeezing Max's shoulder in a friendly manner and also to balance himself, gearing himself ready to start back up. His underwear had pooled a small wet spot of precome already.

This time Max stops him. The grip on his waist tightens, stopping his hips from moving. Max holds his gaze in that intense eye contact he likes to hold, that Lando can't shy away from. "Why would we not be cool? It is, of course, your championship to win now,"

Lando's dick is so hard, it twinges in pain. To gain some leverage, he palms Max's half-hard cock through his briefs.

"Which makes it my championship to lose." Max finishes wryly.

"Don't say that." Lando mutters, ears going red, flaming downwards. Lando thumbs Max's bulbous tip to be petty, and Max digs his thumb and fingers into the soft flesh of Lando's waist, who takes the opportunity to continue rutting against him. He knows, okay, Lando knows it's a possibility even as he tells everyone he's taking it one race at a time. There's a chance. But it's also Max. And Max is the driver he rates the most, why it feels so, so rewarding to beat him. 70 points is not nothing, in 9 races, anything can happen. A single safety car can change the entire standings.

Lando grinds against Max's thigh, bare skin against harsh sensations of cotton making him feel all sorts of frayed. This entire year, he wanted to be taken seriously as a title contender and now everybody's treating like it's a done deal, causing major whiplash.

"Why not? It's true." Max says matter-of-factly, appearing unruffled even as his pupils are completely dark drowning out that ocean blue as he watches Lando's breathing get faster and his hands on Lando are practically pulling his hips forward in rhythm.

"You've got the same chance as me, mate." Lando's heart rate is speeding up. He paws at Max's dick, which is now fully erect, and jerks it off in harsh strokes. It's a nice dick, average sized on the girther end, not terrifyingly large like in porn. Very friend shaped. "It's still anybody's game."

By anybody he means just the two of them. But then again, Max knows that too.

"I can only outdrive the car. You have the fastest car. 9 perfect races. Vettel's done it before," The 'I've done it' goes unsaid but heard regardless. "It's in your hands now."

The only trophy in Lando's hands right now is attached to Max. Fuck you, Lando thinks. When he was first starting to jerk off as a hormonal teenager, he was scared he was doing it so much he would rip it straight off. He imagines ripping it off Max, blood spurting everywhere, misses the race, the championship is secured. He doesn't actually want to do that. He imagines getting on his knees, and taking Max's length in its entirety in his mouth - the way he can never quite manage in real life - look up at him, recently as heavenly light shines on him. The pressure is building in the pit of Lando's stomach, he's thinking every thought that crosses his head to find the one that pushes him over the edge into sweet release.

"When you're in the fastest car, everything below first in underperforming." Max is rolling his own hips now too, voice more breathy.

"You think I don't fucking know that?" Lando snaps, emotional regulation out of bounds, as if he isn't very well aware of the mountain to climb, the ones Max has scaled and back. They're all fucking competitors. Second place is first loser.

Max pulls Lando close, their dicks finally, finally making contact through two thin layers of cotton. Still, he can feel the weight, the shape of it under him and it feels obscene. Like pretend sex, instead of the real thing. The touch feels electrifying, even as it's not enough. They're in a kind of fucked up embrace, hips moving in tandem. Max pats Lando's back reassuringly, going down to his spine.

"Come on. We can be World Champion, Lando." His words are mocking, but they do it for Lando who buries his groan into Max's neck, feeling his orgasm being pulled out from him.

Max doesn't let him relish in the afterglow, wastes no time in taking Lando's hand and pulling it down his pants and jerks himself off. He bites Lando's shoulder as he finishes, making Lando twitch, spilling over both of their hands.

Finally, Lando flops over him on the sofa, both of them sharing wet patches on the front of their underwear. When the high from the orgasm subsides, the shame of rubbing one out against his main rival's leg and wanting his approval creeps in.

9 perfect races swims in his head.

He knows Max will do everything in his power to win, it just doesn't occur to him he's one of those things too.

[chelledoggo]

given the state of... things... i wanna really dissect the ending of episode 2 of TADC.

old news, yeah. but... i think the message of this scene hits harder in this time.

obvious spoiler warning below the cut!!! (also religion CW since i share a Bible verse at the end.)

so by now you probably know the ending all too well.

Pomni made a new friend in Gummigoo, hoping to help him find a better life in the circus... only to watch him be unceremoniously blasted into confetti by the well-meaning but completely tactless Caine.

and of course Pomni is understandably traumatized, going into absolute hysterics.

Caine, the oblivious godlike AI in charge of the show, believes he was just keeping things safe and in order, and shows no real empathy as he teleports himself out of the situation.

Pomni just stands there. dissociating. confused. God only knows what thoughts are going through her mind right now.

the ever-nurturing Ragatha, who's made it her mission to make sure everyone else is as happy as possible, tries to step in and raise Pomni's spirits.

of course, none of this is of any consolation to Pomni. like... how could it be? she watched her friend (presumably) die.

it's like those who believe in an afterlife watching someone die in front of them. even with that little bit of hope and comfort that you may one day see them again, that can't erase the horror you bore witness to.

Pomni stands there unresponsive. Ragatha feels helpless to comfort her.

Zooble approaches, letting Ragatha know that they've finished preparations for Kaufmo's funeral...

Ragatha turns to Pomni and extends an invitation.

this is enough to bring Pomni out of her traumatized stupor.

Ragatha explains the custom that the circus crew developed themselves. whenever a friend abstracts, they hold a "funeral" service to honor them.

now Pomni never knew Kaufmo. he abstracted just before Pomni entered the circus. they never had a chance to meet.

and yet Ragatha still invites Pomni to mourn him along with the rest of the humans.

Ragatha realizes that hopeful platitudes won't really do anything at this time. so instead she opens to her new friend a safe space to grieve.

Pomni accepts the invitation. she stands before the "casket" of a perfect stranger, unsure of what to think.

Ragatha takes her place next to the casket, allowing herself the rare opportunity to express vulnerability around the people she usually puts on a brave face for.

Pomni watches and listens as each of these people she'd only met yesterday share their eulogies for Kaufmo.

they share their experiences. their happy moments with their abstracted friend. and, most importantly, they share their grief and anguish.

Pomni obviously can't relate to any of these stories of Kaufmo. she never knew him.

but that's not the point.

the point is that she's witnessing the camaraderie of the humans in a way she never could before.

she's witnessing them in a vulnerable moment where they can break their goofy facades. and, more importantly, she's witnessing just how deeply these people love and care for each other.

brotherhood doesn't always take the form of trying to fix everyone's pain and cheer each other up. sometimes brotherhood is simply allowing those you care for to feel their feelings without judgement, and to hurt along with them.

and that's when it hits Pomni for the first time.

she's Not Alone

i think this scene hits harder after... recent events.

it's okay to feel the way you feel right now. it's okay to be anxious, scared, angry. it's okay, for right now, to feel... hopeless.

hope will come eventually. but oftentimes grief has to come first.

and that's okay. it's in the moments of communal despair that the seeds of hope are planted.

times of fear and suffering are inevitable. a perfectly happy outcome can't always be guaranteed. but comfort exists even in grief.

so take your time.

hope has no deadline. rest assured that it WILL come eventually, but don't rush or force it.

rest.

feel your feelings.

find those who can lament with you.

find those who need you to lament with them.

we should let ourselves hurt together today. and then we can hope together tomorrow.

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep." - Romans 12:15 (NRSVUE)

[theminecraftbee]

situation ask game: joe hills for 16?

16. Meeting past/future self

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says.

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says back. "This seems to be quite the predicament."

"Oh god, there are two of them," whispers Doc. He'd just wanted to check on the log shop, man. Joe had said something about fixing some redstone (inherently terrifying to hear), and he'd just wanted to come check on it and inevitably fix the fixed redstone, and now there are two of them.

"I have to say," the first Joe Hills--presumably, the original one, given that he's insisting on saying everything through that stupid hand puppet he made this season, although Doc couldn't tell you--says. "I'm fairly certain seeing my own ghostly visage is normally considered a bad sign in most literature. Luckily, this isn't literature, so I can ignore the ill portent."

"Alas, I am, in fact, a bad omen," the second Joe Hills says, all too cheerfully. The second Joe Hills does not have a hand puppet and appears by all measures to be a ghost. Doc would generally agree that's a bad sign too, except for the fact that the Joe he knows is a ghost about fifty percent of the time, and oh no, he's already confused. There are two of them and he's already confused.

Maybe he should go get some coffee. The cafe Cleo set up is supposed to be good, and if he's this confused, maybe he'll manage to get himself to walk past the cats before he remembers he's supposed to be scared.

"Oh no," Doc's Joe says. "I don't have time for bad omens. For one, I'm not any good at killing pillagers. For another thing, I'm busy. See I was trying to help and I accidentally broke Doc's redstone and I feel bad because I think he's like, actually for-real mad about it, not fake mad, and we're supposed to be business partners, right, so I thought I'd come here and fix the redstone. Except then when I was hanging out with Mumbo at the end of our setup confessional Mumbo mentioned something and I just now remembered it and I think I fixed it wrong, so I'm here to try to figure that out, and that means I really don't have time for a bad omen."

"We never do," the ghost Joe says, shaking his head.

Doc, weirdly, feels touched.

"So if you could go away and give me dire warnings later--"

"Sorry, I don't have time to be put off for later! If you put this off for future Joe, you're putting this off to me! Then I'll have to do this all over again, and it'll be a closed time loop. Or, I guess mostly closed, because I don't remember this. But maybe you hit your head and forget everything! I don't know! I don't know how time travel works, but closed time loops were always the really confusing ones because they try to make sense. If we don't try to make sense you might still be able to change things."

"Oh no. What if this is a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"I hadn't considered that," the ghost Joe says.

"I mean, everything I've ever read says that in trying to avert catastrophe, I am likely to accidentally cause it!" Doc's Joe says.

"Maybe the solution is for you to not believe my warnings?" the ghost Joe says. "No, that always ends badly too. That means there's dramatic irony!"

"Right, right. Maybe you just have to be as clear as possible, so I can't misinterpret your words?"

"No, I think the solution is to be vague," the ghost Joe says. "Good prophecies are normally vague that way. I mean, I'm mostly just here to tell you how to avert the nasty end of the world that kills everyone super dead, not anything too complicated! If I put too many details in, I'll leave in a dramatically appropriate loophole by accident, and then you'll never manage it."

"True, but Cleo says that I should always be given exact instructions, or I'll do the wrong thing on purpose," Doc's Joe says.

"We do that even more with exact instructions."

"That is true! And I guess it's harder to remember exact instructions?"

"Maybe the solution, given that I am going to vanish back to the past in five minutes," the ghost Joe says, "is that I should simply write down my instructions. That will make them harder to misremember or misinterpret."

"I will lose those too! This is too much responsibility!"

"I know! That's what I said!" ghost Joe says. "I said, why are you asking me. I mean I know the ghost thing is the only reason I can do this, but I don't want this kind of responsibility! I am not trustworthy! You all have known this since, like, day one, stop putting this kind of stressful responsibility on me! I do weird things when I'm stressed! I mean, I'm always stressed--"

"That's true, we are," Doc's Joe interjects.

"--but this is even more stressful than that! If I thought anyone else could do it, I would have said no! And now I don't know how to--"

"Man, if the world is going to end and kill all of us, stop worrying and just say how," Doc says, stepping out of his hiding place and throwing up his hands. "You're wasting time!"

"Oh, you're right," ghost Joe says. "So, the world will end when--"

He vanishes.

Doc and Doc's Joe stare after ghost Joe into the distance. Finally, Joe, with the world's most betrayed expression, turns to Doc.

"You scared me off!" he says. "If you hadn't shown up I'm sure I would have explained eventually."

"WHAT," Doc says as calmly as possible back. It does not appear to appease the Joe he's left with at all.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey! Asking for some writing advice here.

How does one write a villain exactly. In a very simple world with no superpowers and stuff how do you give them motivation. How do you make them slowly descent into villainy. Somehow when the villain actually thinks they're doing the right thing until the very end?

Thx love

There are a few different questions here that I'm going to try to to unpick.

I'll start with a brief overview of the connections between protagonist + antagonist, just because recognising them can be really useful in shaping your own ideas. Then I'll dive into motivation. So.

Antagonist + Protagonist = CONFLICT

If you know your protagonist well, then you have all the ingredients you need to write a great villain/antagonist for them too. Here is why.

Your villain/antagonist is, at the most basic fundamental starting point, something that is between your protagonist and what the protagonist wants/needs. As a very simple example, if your protagonist wants to make sure that everyone is free, then your antagonist is going to in some way be involved with making sure they are not free. Once you know what your antagonist needs to do in a story, then it's a lot easier to pose the question to yourself of 'okay, why would someone do that?'

Villains often reflect an opposite or warped view of the values and motivations that your protagonist has. They mirror or foil your main character. So, your antagonist's motivation will often be either opposite to the protagonist (e.g, your protagonist is motivated by selflessness, so your antagonist is motivated by selfishness in some way) or they will be the same motivation or value gone twisted (e.g. we both have people we love who we would do anything to protect...it's the villains way of acting on that motivation that makes them the villain, not the motivation.)

Of course, you can not have your antagonist + protagonist connected in this way. This is often the case if the source of conflict in your story is not another actual character or if you have a more generic villain. Lots of great stories have generic villains. It typically just means the villain is not a focus. It might be, like, about the friendships made in the journey instead.

Motivations:

I find it helpful to think of all my characters having two motivations.

The external story-specific motivation. This is whatever the antagonist is trying to achieve in your particular story and where things like genre and superpowers etc come into play.

The internal motivation that is more universal. The internal motivation is, while still specific to the character, the driving emotions and values. With a villain, that is often hatred or fear or lust for power because they're villains, but as noted earlier it can be a twisted form of love, or a strong sense of an injustice committed against them. This shapes the external motivation (e.g. 'lust for power = I want the throne, 'fear' = I'm going to kill or belittle or control what scares me so I don't have to feel scared anymore', justice might equal revenge or gaining power to ensure that a wrong is corrected. ) It could also be a bias or a prejudice that they're raised on driving them, that they genuinely believe in. Lots of possibilities!

I think this is true of people as well. We have our foundational core beliefs and desires (to be loved, to succeed, to be accepted whatever) and then we have the things we try to get in the real world to meet those needs (whether they really will or not).

Either way, it's the second one that comes into play with the slow descent into villainy and the villain thinking that they're doing the right thing until the end. Because, initially, their heart genuinely is not in a villainous place. They may actually be doing the right thing at the start. And then bad things happen. They are changed by the journey. They are a protagonist gone tragic.

We all experience emotions that can drive us to behave poorly; the desire for revenge or recognition, to ensure that the people we care about are safe, to get money so that we can provide for ourselves and others etc. None of us are without prejudice or privilege. Those things do not make you a villain, but they can be an excellent starting place for one.

Think about times when you've messed up. A villain is often an exaggerated version of that. You start pushing your own boundaries because there is something you really want/need and, depending on how far you push that...do you feel like you can still go back? Or do you feel like you might as well finish it after everything. At what point do you breathe for air, look up at what you've done, and go shit.

That's the villain who realises way too late that they're the villain.

Final note: I've been using antagonist and villain pretty interchangeably here...but they have slightly different connotations. Your antagonist does not have to be a villain to be effective. They just have to be an obstacle to the protagonist. E.g. if two people are going for the same dream job or trying to win a competition, the other competitors are antagonists to a certain extent, but that doesn't mean they're villainous or bad people. Whether you have an outright villain will depend on your story.

I hope this helps!

Some going further questions to take with you.

Is your villain trying to stop your protagonist from reaching their goal? Or is your protagonist trying to stop the antagonist from reaching their goal?

How does the villain's external goal in the story reflect the inner need? Note. They are aware of their external goal. Most people are not aware of the inner goal in the same way.

Do you know what you want your stories themes to be? (This doesn't have to be complicated and it's fine if you don't, that's what editing is for). Your protagonist and antagonist often weigh in on these themes. For example, your antagonist might be a path the protagonist could have gone down, if they made a different choice or something happened differently in their past.