@sunselim :) đ«¶
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers




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@sunselim :) đ«¶
i saw @the-overanalyst's post about how mafumom sees niigo and. well. since no one else drew it i had to lock in (not my best work as i'm in art block butbutbut it's the thought that matters right)
More bannerfall Scott textposts except it's js the dynamics I wanna see more of lol :3
and the big kitty bc he is plaguing my mind
pt1. <-
May I please ask for some CatNap and Y/N content? (if CatNap is alive and redeemed ofc) thank you for your content, you are feeding us well.
i think that if y/n managed to stop the prototype from killing catnap, just before the killing blow, then perhaps catnap could have a change of heart. he'd probably just... give y/n one long look (he's stunned that they saved him after all he put them through), then slink away into the shadows. y/n would then see him around occasionally, not really helping the survivors, but not attacking them or reporting them to the prototype either.
it seems the disciple is finally questioning the god he was betrayed by, and is beginning to consider following an angel instead.
Tw: yandere behavior, captivity, creep behavior, moral ambiguity, âis he your dad or your daddy?â, general âthis is fucked upâ behavior, NSFW, OOC behaviour for literally every character listed in the tags ever, feminine reader, I would hunt him for sport if he existed irl, the reader does NOT like this, unwilling reader, I did not realize it but my god you shiver a lot, etc.
(Yandere saw that we had no dad and decided to take it upon himself to âfulfill that roleâ.
He does not. But he is trying to âfillâ something.)
Yandere prompt:
They say their feelings are platonic. Insist upon it really. They say they only want to be your family.
But their actions really donât match their words.
âŠ
Heâs helping you get undressed. Again.
Youâd think you would be used to it by now.
Heâs been doing it a lot more often.
It started out as him just standing in the bathroom with you, watching you as you undressed with trembling hands in front of him, watching as the dress he picked out fell to your feet around you.
When he first kidnapped youâwhich is a crazy sentence you never thought youâd sayâhe said he wanted to be family. A father to you. A dad.
Now, you donât have much experience with dads seeing as you didnât exactly grow up having one, but they donât stare at you the way he stares at you. (Theyâre not supposed to, at least.)
He stares holes into you. His fists clench in his lap as he watches you step out of your jeans. He crosses his legs when your underwear fall to the ground and stares even harder if possible.
And afterwards he still reminds you to call him âdadâ.
But at least then it was just watching. Just him sitting there and making sure you didnât somehow tunnel your way out with a shampoo bottle.
Now, he was touching you.
His breathing is loud and heavy in the otherwise silent bathroom, his fingers scorching whenever they grazed your skin. He pulls the zipper of your dress down agonizingly slow. Like heâs trying to savor the moment, each inch of flesh thatâs revealed to him.
Youâre half afraid heâs going to start jerking off in the bathroom at the sight of your shoulder blades to be honest.
The first few times this happened, your hands went to your chest to hold the front up. But it didnât really matter anyway. Heâd see it all no matter if you held your dress up or not.
(You donât know exactly when âthe dressâ started to become your dress. But you know how dreadful the change was.)
âYou done?â You snap suddenly, knocking him out of his reverie.
He hums in reply. Calm in the face of your disrespect.
(Something in you wants to claw his face off and spend the days afterward picking him out from under your nails.)
âAlmost,â he says. âThe zippers stuck.â
You almost scoff. Yeah, right. The old pervert.
After a few minutes of âstruggleâ (him taking his sweet time with that zipper), it was finally undone. You tensed as his hands came up to your shoulders, large and calloused hands curling into your sleeves to tug them down.
He treats you more like his wife than his kid.
He insists on being slow. On torturing you. But the fabric slides down your arms all the same.
Your arms prickle with goosebumps with the sudden exposure to the cold air of the bathroom. The shiver that ensues is half from the cold and half because of the pure heat that he produces in waves. Manufactured almostâthe fire of his skin produced rather than made with all the muscle on him.
You barely restrain yourself from smacking his hands away when the come down to skirt part of the dress.
This part he canât exactly âmake slowâ. The skirt is looseâflow-y. When he tugs it down, just slightly, it crumbles to the ground easily. Just a circle of floral fabric around you.
This time, when he tries to take off your underwear, you do smack his hands away. âIâll do it,â you hiss.
He lets you. Fortunately. If only so he can watch.
You practically yank your underwear down your legs, bending slightly to step out of it.
A sharp intake of breath.
If you were going to be forced to get naked in front of him, you were at least going to be petty about it.
Revulsion twists and churns in your stomach, burning in your veins, as you feel his eyes dig into you, attempting to unearth something from deep within you that you are certain is nowhere to be found.
He clears his throat but his next words still come out heavy with strain and almost croak-like. âLetâs get you into the shower, sweetheart.â
You tense and shiver with disgust when a large hand comes down to rest on your bare lower back.
You step into the shower and shiver again as a warm spray washes over youâalready heated up and ready since he had turned it on for you just before the unpaid strip tease you gave him.
Itâs almost enough to make you forget whoâs watching. Whoâs pulling the glass door to the side. Whoâs practically leaking in his pants just fucking watching you shower.
You try to ignore him to the best of your abilities, but itâs difficult to not lunge at him and claw his eyes out. (You had already tried once and never again.)
You make the mistake of turning your back from him.
Cold fingers brush your spine. You flinch away violently, turning to give him a wide-eyed, repulsed look but heâs not even looking at your face.
Heâs looking at the water on his fingers. At how they glisten.
âI should-â he swallows thickly, gaze lifting. âI should probably help clean you up, right? Like a⊠like a dad would.â
So in order to have Chell, as in the player, feel involved with the story even though she doesnât speak, the writers for Portal 2 made sure that the characters are near-constantly speaking to her or about her. You know, so you feel immersed in the story, and like youâre an important piece of it.
The hilarious side effect of this is that it makes both GLaDOS and Wheatley comically attached to and obsessed with this poor woman and theyâre both going to make it her problem now. She has done literally nothing but try to escape but it drives them both fucking crazy for some reason
Both of the boss fights from their perspective feel like theyâre breaking up with someone theyâve known for years and from Chellâs perspective itâs just I donât know you people. Please let me out. I wanna go to Taco Bell
whos this wilson guy anyway?