#girlygo2 moment
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girlygo2 · 3 days ago
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oh fuck. oh no. It's. it's happening. antagonist x protagonist. why must this be the ship i gravitate towards.
til that the "Cara Mia Addio" in Portal 2 (better known as the "Turret Opera"), when translated, is a full on love song in which Glados refers to Chell as "beautiful" and "dear" throughout, with Ellen Mclain saying in an interview afterwards that the song is meant to essentially be taken as "I'm going to miss you, goodbye, my beloved"
I like to think then that Cara Mia Addio was a song created by Glados in a foreign language that Chell wouldn't understand so that way she could tell her how much she meant/means to her without being too direct because she's scared of attachment
In conclusion, happy pride month to whatever the fuck they had going on
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sunlit-writings · 1 year ago
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Rating: G | Word Count: 800 | Warnings: N/A
Summary: After feeding the Retorateras, Wes is led somewhere the two could rest away from the winter's cold.
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A gift fic I wrote recently!! I haven't been writing a lot recently BUT here's something. It's for girlygo2, who's written a lovely fic series that you'll find linked to this fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
It was easier than usual for Wes to find something substantial for Retorateras to eat than he thought it would be. Despite the day's chill, it seemed that a group of pigs and merms had gotten into a scuffle, and meat had been left behind in their wake. Although the mime wouldn't want to admit it, he was relieved that it was so easy to find something. Sure, Retorateras wouldn't hurt him, Wilson wouldn't hurt him. But as they've already found out, the other survivors didn't have the same luxury, especially if they did something Wes hadn't seen. But, he decides not to let it bother him, as the beast finishes up with the meat and finally discards the bone. What that usually meant, was that his stomach was full, and that he would be searching for a place to rest.
Alongside that, it meant Wes didn't need to keep watching, or following him around. Usually, Retorateras would just saunter away to find a nice place to sleep on his own, but this time he was looking at Wes for a long while, not moving. This was new, and this gave him equal curiosity and nervousness. The question of what he was staring for is answered soon enough though, as the beast approaches, taking Wes' hand, sniffing it, then trying to tug on it a bit with his mouth. There was no pain in the gesture, which probably meant that it was just to try and take him somewhere. So, he was being taken somewhere? He puts up his other hand, in a gesture of surrender before his arm was accidentally ripped off.
The walk through the snow isn't so long, though the wind seeping down to Wes' bones made it feel longer than it was. Along the way, Retorateras would often look back, or even brush along the mime's side for a moment. Though he didn't really know what this meant, it put him at ease for some reason, as though he was being looked after even if it wasn't quite necessary.
They make their way to a large burrow in the midst of an evergreen's roots, or maybe it was a piece of land hollowed out by a lightning strike. Either way, it seemed big enough to accommodate the creature, with a good bit of wiggle room to spare. Was this what he had wanted to show Wes? Without any comfort in asking, and without any way for Retorateras to respond, the latter simply lumbers into the makeshift shelter and takes a seat with a low sigh. Wes is given an expectant look, as the other seems to be waiting for him to join. It feels a bit forward, and Wes couldn't stop a redness from forming in his cheeks.
Despite that, he didn't have the urge to say no, the walk back to camp seeming cold and unforgiving. The sun was setting, too, and while he did have a few torches on hand, it wouldn't be enough to stave off the night's chill. He's sure the others wouldn't mind if he were to be gone for a night, either. As long as he picked up the slack, the others were usually a forgiving bunch.
Despite himself, despite knowing this should feel like wrong, Wes moves into the burrow, and lays down facing Retorateras. While the two aren't touching, he can feel the warmth surrounding them. It's almost magical, how small spaces can exchange heat so easily. This would surely work as a place to sleep tonight, but the beast seemed to have other plans than just remaining in each other's vicinity. Instead, he pulls Wes closer, to the point where the two are touching. The red in the mime's cheeks persists further, though it's not like he minds how close they are. It's strange, to feel protected by someone that could easily devour him if it wished. Though, he still feels comfortable, like none of the monsters of this realm could find him here. This must have been why he had showed him this place, so they could be close like this.
He's never realized how soft Retorateras was. They had brushed against each other, one time or another, but somehow he hadn't noticed or even predicted how it would feel. It's a similar feeling to that of a rabbit, but much thicker. Wes snuggles closer to his companion, the hollow's warmth beginning to lull him toward sleep. He can feel the rhythm of Retorateras' heartbeat, slow but steady. It's breathing, too, is slow but rhythmic. There are so many things that he could worry about besides that, but instead of something like that, he falls asleep easy, a murmur of "Je t'aime, Wilson..." coming from him in that half-asleep stupor.
Whatever happened outside this place wasn't important. It could wait until morning.
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