#portal 2 spoilers

[aviul]

deadly lair

[dealerlover]

glados @ caroline

[mechanical-moron]

I can't wait to see Elon's human form

[ask-the-drones]

here, have potato

[80sarcadecarpet]

Some time ago I made my best friend play Portal 2 while she was staying over at my house, she'd never played it before and didn't know anything about it but she's a fan of Stephen Merchant so she grew a little attached to Wheatley

When we got to the part where he betrays you she was not expecting it at all. She felt personally betrayed by Stephen Merchant and to this day she's been holding a grudge against him for it. This results in me getting texts like this every so often when he's on TV and I think it's the single funniest possible outcome that could've come from introducing someone to one of my favourite video games

[ratt-spacecheese]

My favorite one eye demon and robot

[sophios-draws]

[solsticesailor]

My contribution to the portal community

[magnifnico]

Just thinking about the end of Portal 2 and how fucking awesome GLaDOS is. It's impossible to get more mixed signals than that. But also like my theory for why she sends those mixed signals is like, pretty basic I think.

She definitely fell in love with Chell. Like, you don't make an orchestra play an Italian opera specifically about someone before they leave because you wanted to be nice. But like the reason GLaDOS lets Chell go and acts like that is because she knows keeping Chell around would end up with her dead, eventually, despite what GLaDOS says. "Killing you is hard." That's a fucking lie. There was no reason for GLaDOS to grab Chell from the vacuum of space. That was love.

I dunno. Just thinking about it. GLaDOS spent years with humans who were supposed to be fucking geniuses and she ended up killing all of them. Then Chell wakes up, tears through the courses, and kills her. I mean I'd fall in love too.

[jadevalentine-writes]

So I've been ranting about this over on my main blog, but playing through Portal and Portal 2 has me thinking about writing a fic from Caroline's perspective. That she's actually smart as a whip but took the role of receptionist/secretary because the 1950s/1960s were not kind to women in science so the only way to get her foot in the door was to belittle herself. But them she ends up (literally) running the place anyway at the end.

I have already mentally plotted out several scenes! I am very excited! I just love her so much!

[ikilledtvguy]

this is so dumb and i hate it so bad but i spent too long on this so you guys have to see it too sorry💔

original thingy lol

[yes-man-luvrrr]

I’m coping

[hasbledtodeathunderourknife]

I feel the same way towards Yorick as I did to Wheatley.

Yes he’s definitely suspect and probably going to betray us but I do not care. They could never make me hate him. Yorick I will knowingly follow you straight into a trap.

[gamequoteshowdown]

WARNING THIS POLL CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FOLLOWING GAMES: Portal 2

Quote 1: "Well A.D.D., primarily, but also life, my parents, this school, western civilization, but really, honestly, enough about me." - Gary Smith, Bully

Quote 2: "Hello! This is the part where I kill you." - Wheatley, Portal 2

Propaganda under cut

Quote 1: "What is your problem, man?" Gary is a horrible guy. He says this to Jimmy to explain why he's a bully when they first meet at school

Quote 2: "This is the part where he kills you."

"GLaDOS: ""Well, this is the part where he kills us."" Chapter 9: The Part Where He Kills You. Song playing: The Part Where He Kills You Achievement unlocked: The Part Where He Kills You. This is that part.

It's iconic, straightforward, and to the point. This is the part where he kills you, that's what's going to happen and he just tells you ""hey, I'm gonna kill you now"". More of a heads-up than most villains!"

[mildlybizarrecorvid]

I don't mean "is she built off of Caroline" or anything, just if that is the same consciousness with maybe some memories changed

Because I think I might be interpreting GLaDOS differently than some people

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Whumptober 2024

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

A/N: I'm not completely happy with it, but here you are. I got it finished in time! For this one, I focused more on the lyrics of the song than the word prompts. The first half of the song in particular really reminded me of Chell and Wheatley’s relationship, whether you ship them or not. I tried really hard to keep this one short, since I am already struggling a little to keep up with the prompts and keep my usual style/quality of writing, so I hope y’all like it!

No trigger warnings this time, but spoilers for all of Portal 2 :)

As far as Wheatley could tell, space had a way of driving one insane.

At least, he thought it did. Out here, his only benchmark of what was “sane” was his space-obsessed companion and himself. And he had proved just how absolutely splendid of a role model he was in that area. A true bastion of mental stability, he was. Especially when he had singlehandedly destroyed a massive, sprawling super facility, gone absolutely off his rockers, and tried to murder the only person who cared for his sorry metal husk in who knew how long.

“Yeah, I really am kidding myself, aren’t I?” Wheatly asked aloud, to only be answered by silence.

At some point in the last few hours – or had it been days? It was really quite hard to keep track of such linear things when you were spinning uncontrollably, handle over carapace, around the Moon which itself was spinning uncontrollably around another astrological body, the Earth, which was in turn spinning uncontrollably around a bloody massive ball of blindingly bright fire—

Wait where had he been going with that thought? Oh, right. His astronomically obnoxious companion in exile.

At some point, Kevin – that was what he had taken to calling the personality core who had been jettisoned out into the depths of space with him – had gained a little more speed than he had in orbit, and was now a good distance away from Wheatley, and out of range of his internal radio receptors. Because of course Aperture Science had thought up a way to allow Aperture Tech to communicate even in the soundless vacuum of space.

Initially, he had thought that being forced to constantly listen to Kevin’s babbling would be the thing to drive him insane. Goodbye higher reasoning skills! You would be missed. But now, Wheatley was starting to almost miss the yammering about stars, comets, and space in general.

Because with the overpowering, infinite silence of the cosmos pressing down on his audial processor, Wheatley was starting to hallucinate. At least, he thought he might be. What was really categorized as a “hallucination” was likely up to debate; maybe there was a requirement jotted down there somewhere about needing to be human, or a non-Aperture Science Technology. Either way, something wasn’t meshing right back there in the ol’ central processing unit, and it was getting to him.

It had started with small things. Little flashes of light that might have simply been attributed to the damage his lens took when She crushed him in her huge, terrifying claw-arm. The twitching remained, although there were no sparks to accompany the obnoxious bug out in the vacuum of space.

Now though, it had developed into something significantly more concerning. Periodically, Wheatley would hear the low, droning noise that flowed through the very veins of the Laboratories, the one he had never really realized was there until it was gone. It was strange, how many things one realized they had taken for granted when they were floating pointlessly through space.

The people they took for granted.

That was the other oddity, of course. There was no one to talk to out there, and no one to listen to with Kevin temporarily out of conversing distance. At least, Wheatley hoped it was temporary…

Anyways, with no one to actually speak to – a real one-on-one conversation, with a sentient being who could actually comprehend what was being said and maybe even talked back— well, maybe not that one. Ironically, the only sentient thing that ever really responded to what he said was the exact murderous supercomputer who wanted him dead more than anything in the world. Except maybe for the death of Her nemesis and 2-time vanquisher.

No, the sentient being he was thinking of was quite the opposite. He had never heard her speak during their time in the facility, not once, and yet it always felt like a conversation to him. A real give-and-take conversation. He would talk, she would listen. He would give an order, and she would either follow it or give him one of those mildly confused glances, or annoyed eyerolls, or graveside-smiles. It felt like she listened.

And with no one listening out here, no one for an astronomically long distance…

Wheatley liked to pretend that maybe, just maybe, if he ever got to talk to her again, he could change things. Maybe, he could have tried to see things another way than from his stupid, narrow viewpoint, then things would have been better.

And sometimes it was like she was really there. Really, actually there.

Like they were back on the run, speeding through the endless catwalks between the testing tracks – or just strolling. There were those dreams too, if they were considered a dream since he was a robot and couldn’t technically sleep.

They would talk— well, he would talk, and she would do the listening and reacting that she was so very skilled at. Sometimes it was just babble, a skill Wheatley had down pat; that was maybe the only thing he was good at, come to think of it. Talking. But the point was, it felt so real. And every time he twitched, or otherwise snapped back to reality, it was like being hurled into space all over again.

The worst part, of course, was knowing that this was all his own doing. It was his own, stupid fault that he couldn’t do anything right, and he would never be able to do anything right because he was a moron. A moron who couldn’t see what he had until he had singlehandedly destroyed it. And oh, how I wished I could take it all back, everything. I really swear it.

I’m sorry. That’s what I would say, if I ever saw her again. I was monstrous, and horrible, and you deserved so much better.

I’m sorry.