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thesunisatangerine · 7 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part two

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: implied sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 2.5k

You weren’t sure what woke you at first but when you opened your eyes, you found the brilliant, early morning light that streamed through a crack in the curtains. Groaning, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, not missing the unmistakable rustling of clothes somewhere at the foot of the bed.

Peeking over the sheets to the source of the sound, you found Ale working to put her pants back on, her bare back to you. You propped yourself against the headboard as you watched on, biting your lip at how Ale’s tattoos deliciously shifted over her rippling muscles. She picked something up from the floor before she turned towards the bed and you caught sight of the darkening marks on her neck and chest. When she saw you looking at her, she smiled, a little bashful, which you returned in kind.

“What time is it?” You cringed at how you croaked out the words.

“Early. You should go back to sleep.” Ale said, putting her bra on as she kept your gaze.

You hummed. “I could say the same for you.”

Ignoring what she said you sat up on the bed, allowing the sheets to slide down and settle by your waist as you stretched. Ale’s eyes wandered to your chest which, you supposed, bore the same marks you could see on hers, and you relished the attention. Once she found your eyes again, you sent her a knowing smirk before you left the bed, headed to the closet where you grabbed the nearest fresh shirt you had, and tossed it to Ale.

Without even looking at the shirt, she caught it with ease. You raised your brow, both in question and in wonder. In response, Ale just smiled innocently at you. Ale pulled the shirt over her head, hiding the marks from view, then she moved towards you, her eyes dark and shining with intent.

Your body remembered last night’s endeavours before you did: every nerve in your skin lit up in anticipation for Ale’s touch, a fuse waiting for a spark. She laced an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to her front with a strength that left you breathless, her clothed body firm against your bare flesh. Without your heels she almost towered over you that you had to stand on your toes to wrap your arms around her neck. You closed your eyes when you felt the words she spoke against your temple.

“As much as I’d love to stay, I have to go.”

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment. But what did you expect? You knew what you were getting into last night–you knew this was meant to only be a one-time thing. Besides, you were never one for relationships anyway; all your dalliances were brief and fleeting, ending before they ever got serious. Still, something about Ale pulled you to her, a force that compelled a desire to get to know her. The logical part of you already accepted the fact that you’d probably never see her again after this, but a small part of you wanted to rebel and resist that fate.

Unsurprisingly, logic won out.

“I shouldn’t keep you, then,” you whispered against her collarbone. Ale shivered and that made you smile: it’s good to know you weren’t the only one still feeling the effects from the previous night.

“You’re not making this easy,” she whined and you laughed.

“Alright, alright. I guess it’s time for me to let you go.”

There was a moment of silence but not an uncomfortable one. You looked at her, soaked in how her features caught the morning light, how her fair hazel eyes almost appeared like twin golden suns. You were tempted to kiss her lips then but you settled for a chaste one on her cheek instead. “Keep the shirt, to remember me by and… a thank you for last night. It was wonderful.”

“I had a good time, too,” she hummed, a small smile on her lips.

You returned her smile, and then you gently pushed her away as you took a step back. “Go, Ale.”

Ale stood there for a moment more, took one last look at you, gave you one last smile and she was out of the bedroom. When you heard the front door shut, you sighed again as something akin to regret settled in your bones. Maybe you should’ve at least asked for her number…

“So… did you have fun?” A deep voice filtered through the speaker before you saw the familiar mop of blonde hair and blue eyes on your screen. You rolled your eyes at his dry tone but you smiled nonetheless.

“Oh hi, Derek, I’m doing fine! Thank you for asking!”

Derek gave you an unimpressed look. “Come on. I need details cause that club was exclusive for a reason. So, did you hook up with someone?”

“Dude, stop! That’s so–” you shook your head, a palm over your face. You swore if he wasn’t family you would’ve… you breathed through your nose. “Thank you for the pass and everything but I’m not obligated to tell you shit.”

“Fine, I see how it is. Just ‘cause I’m not there you’re keeping secrets from me now, huh?” He raised an exaggerated eyebrow.

“Then maybe you should’ve come here with me,” you retorted with faux annoyance. “What’s the point of you owning a house in Barcelona if you’re not going to use it? It’s literally rotting here! The fact that you haven’t even put any personal things in here is criminal!”

“And let this agency burn down to the ground while both of us are away? Pfft, yeah, right!” Derek scoffed. “You know it’s either you or me who can keep watch around here. Besides, the house can wait and you’re using it now, right? So, a win-win in my book.”

He was right but you weren’t about to tell him that so you opted to change the topic. “How are things on your end anyway?”

“Chaotic, as usual. And it doesn’t help we’re now down two–actually, three including you–of our best in the Spot News department.”

At that, you sat up from the couch, alarm and dread filled your body and you brought the phone closer to you. “Oh my god, did something happen?”

Derek sighed heavily, his demeanour clouded over as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was Jones and Gilda–they’re stable, don’t worry!–they got caught in a flash flood on the way to the base at their area. Sick with some minor injuries, Jones more so than Gilda, but thankfully they’re both okay.”

At that, you breathed out in relief. You were well acquainted with the dangers that came with your job but you could never get used to how quickly a situation could get from bad to worse. The mere thought was enough to turn your hands cold.

“When did this happen?”

“Early morning today in our timezone.”

“Oh, fuck. Derek, why didn’t you call me?!”

“Dude, you’re on leave. And it’s not that I didn’t want to let you know, I just wasn’t about to wake you up in the middle of the night to give you this headache. I’m just about done with the paperworks anyway.” A moment silence, then Derek sighed. “You really chose the worst time to go on leave. You know, I had to send Jersey to start covering Spot.”

“Not my fault you authorised it. I was happy to wait another month, remember? Wait, so if Jersey is doing Spot, who’s doing Sports?”

“I know, I know, don’t remind me ‘cause I’m already regretting it. And no one’s doing it. Spot coverage is more important but–”

“–we get a decent sum from Sports, too,” you finished for him. You did some quick estimation in your head: a month or two without Sports could prove costly, too great of a sum to let go. You hummed, rubbing your chin, but it didn’t take you long to realise that you could help out, your mind immediately fleeted to your conversation with Ale and her suggestion.

“I’ll cover it, Derek.”

“No. You’re supposed to be enjoying your leave–”

“Derek.” You fixed a stern gaze at him, the one you knew that he knew meant your mind was made up. Then you proceeded to reassure him that it was fine, and then you told him about your plan. “Alright, then, I’ll leave the press passes to you.”

“I’ll e-mail them to you once I get ‘em, most likely by tonight your time. I–”

“Derek, you got to see–” Another voice filtered through the speaker while you watched as Derek turned his head to the side and held his hand up to whoever it was before returning his focus back to you.

“Okay, as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, Robert just brought me a huge stack of paper so I’m going to bail.”

“Alright. Have fun, you. Talk to you later.”

“Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, thank you.”

“No worries. Kiss Mom for me when you see her.”

“I will. Love you, sis.”

“I love you, too.”

After calling Jones and Gilda to ask about their condition and to send them your well wishes, you decided to spend the rest of your day at the nearby square and the beach. A day as good as this wasn’t meant to be wasted by staying inside so you grabbed several rolls of film and your beloved Leica camera before heading out.

It was already late afternoon when you found yourself trudging along the shoreline of one of Barcelona’s beaches, appreciating the orange-tinged skies and how the gulls called from above. When you looked to the horizon, you found a mother and her little daughter paddle-boarding just a hundred meters from the shore. You could see almost no details in the shadows of their silhouette but the large setting sun framed them in such a way that you felt to take a shot of the moment. So you adjusted your aperture accordingly, pressed the viewfinder against your brow, lined up your shot, and pressed the shutter.

“I thought you looked familiar… And I was right.”

Your thumb froze over the advance lever when you heard someone speak from somewhere behind you. That voice… could it be?

You whipped your head over your shoulder and found none other than Ale standing there. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a white opened blouse that put her toned abs and Nike sports bra on display, loose hair slightly damp, with a leash in one hand that lead to a small, fluffy dog. She also had on a pair of black wraparound sunglasses that she moved to the top of her head, revealing her hazel eyes that captivated your gaze immediately.

You could hardly believe your eyes and your luck; you already accepted her fleeting presence in your life but to meet her again in a city as big as Barcelona without any means of contact… that surely was nothing short of a miracle.

“Ale, hi! I–I never thought I’d see you again,” you said after you finally found your voice but as soon as the words left your mouth, your cheeks warmed. What were you supposed to say to a one night stand in this situation, especially when you clearly wanted it to happen again?

“Me neither. I should thank Nala for dragging me out here.” Ale grinned as she glanced down at her dog by her feet. You crooned as you bent down, then you offered your hand first and only after Nala licked your knuckles did you proceed to pet her.

“Thank you, Nala, for taking your owner for a walk.” At that, a hearty laugh came from Ale which caused Nala, who seemed to be overjoyed by the sound of her owner’s delight, to yip and wag her tail. And just as quickly as she had, she seemed to get bored and began to bound forward, urging Ale to move as well so you stood up, brushed the sand from your palms, and fell in step with her.

For a moment, the space between you was filled by the sound of the waves, the sound of the shifting sand beneath your feet, and the ever-bustling noise from the city. Then you recalled your conversation with Derek this morning.

“I thought about what you said, about covering women’s football. I’m going to be given a press pass for a match, not sure which one they’ll give me, though. But do you know of any big matches coming up?”

“Really? That’s great! Do you have any particular team in mind or…?”

“Research is still on my to-do list so no, not really. I’m all ears for suggestions, though.”

“I see. Well, there is this match coming up: Real Madrid and Barcelona. Since you don’t know, there’s rivalry between the two teams so any match between them tends to get crowded. You should come watch.”

“That sounds like a good one. I hope that’s what they’ll get me into. Will you be there?”

“I hope so, too. And yes, I’ll be there.” As she said this, her eyes shone with a glint not dissimilar to what you saw in them the night you met. Her lips tilted to the side, closed but quirked at the corners like she was holding in a laugh. If it weren’t already clear that night, it was now–you were definitely missing something here.

“What?” You asked, confused. What was she not telling you? But at the question, Ale only let out a small giggle, grinning as she did so.

“Nothing, nothing,” she said, shaking her head. You didn’t believe her but you let it slide one more time and the fact that she looked so distracting didn’t help either.

She had her head turned to you, her loose hair framed her face and strands fluttered in the cool, ocean breeze. You had to tilt your head up slightly to meet her eyes and, without any bidding, memories from that night and the morning after filtered through your mind: the way she held you against her, the way you wanted her to stay… maybe you should ask her if she was free tonight.

“–what do you have in mind?”

You blinked. “What?”

Ale threw her head back, letting out another hearty laugh before she looked at you and you saw amusement swimming in her eyes. Then, she continued with a smirk, “you asked if I was free tonight. I said yes. Or… was I not meant to hear that?”

Your ears and cheeks burnt while you internally cursed your slippery tongue. That was smooth. Real smooth. “Ummm…”

You woke the next morning with a delicious soreness between your thighs, a pleasant reminder of the way Ale ravished you last night. Similar to the first morning after, you heard the rustling of clothes being put on. But before you could fully open your eyes, warmth from Ale’s lips branded the skin on your shoulder.

“I have to go. See you next time?” Ale murmured softly. You shifted slightly to the side and you saw how the sunlight behind her gilded her hair with an amber halo and made her eyes appear like molten gold.

Brushing a loose strand behind her ear, you hummed in confirmation and pressed your forehead sleepily against the sharp line of her jaw, closing your eyes as you did so and you whispered, “you know where to find me.”

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: introduced some fictional characters here for plot purposes and there'll be more later on (i hope that wont put off some people)#i tried not to info-dump but not really sure if i succeeded lol #also i find it difficult to write smut and its even harder without talking about feelings so nothing yet folks im so sorry #and idk when the next part will come out cause its one of the parts that arent fleshed out but ill try to finish it by next week #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

#i wanted him to look um.... Put Together?#barn strikes me as a character that likes to look a lil sophisticated in a way!#and i wanted that to come across in this fit... dont know if i succeeded #i still wanted to have Bard-ish / Barnaby Vibes #i can easily imagine him reclined by a tree absentmindedly playin his accordion... smokin... in this outfit hat tipped down over his eyes #barnaby my beloved <3 #and bardaby my beloved <3 #also ill admit!!!#that lute is traced from a real image lmfao there was no way in hell i was scribbling that thing from scratch #scribble salad #wh fantasy au #i lowkey feel bad for barnaby when he finds out about the whole warlock thing #bc hes been traveling with wally for Years #barnaby likes to think that he knows everything about his little buddy #and then wally has to be like 😬#yeah im actually not technically a real person #also there's this 'demon' i have a pact with & also a weird kinda non-platonic Cant Be Accurately Labeled intimate relationship with #oh and i sometimes sacrifice innocent people to it in a pinch. the rest of the time we eat enemies' souls #and barnaby just has to! deal with that! like oh great! his bestie has been lying to his face since they met!#ands its been Seamless Lying!#suffice to say barnaby has a crisis #and now since wally can be more open about home #there's a sort of... pointless Rivalry for wally's attention/affection #even though barnaby definitely misjudges the situation and how home feels about wally...#oh switching gears back to the instrument thing!#in my mind barnaby also knows how to play the harp really well #and howdy's tavern has a corner for live music - which includes a permanently placed harp <3 #so i think on quiet days barnaby will go play the harp while howdy cleans glasses & the others do their own quiet things #maybe its raining outside! or Snowing! but the tavern is cozy and warm & there is beautiful music <3

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nellasbookplanet · 7 months

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The more time I sink into andromeda, the more I suspect the biggest reason it ultimately failed commercially was because of the massive tonal shift I've already mentioned, and how there was probably a pretty big chunk of original trilogy players who simply no longer fit as a demographic, while the game failed to reach the people who might’ve enjoyed it.

The original trilogy, much as I love it, feels a little bit like a wishfulfillment power fantasy for a very obvious demographic. Almost all women are overtly sexy in design and the f/f relationship in the first game seems to be written along the guidelines of 'what would a straight man find hot'; you play as someone cool and confident and powerful, the most specialest human ever, and maybe you aren’t always respected but YOU and the NARRATIVE always know you're right and you get to be rude to and sometimes punch/murder people who disagree with you so it’s fine. The game then salvages all this by means of genuinely well-written characters and arcs, really cool sci-fi tech and lore, a fantastic story, and meaningful and hard-hitting choices and consequences (which also allow and often encourage you to steer away from that exact macho ideal).

Enter andromeda. Instead of being a super powerful supersoldier from the start, you're the kid of one. You barely know what you're doing. Everyone doubts you, including yourself. You don’t get the assuredness of knowing you are Right and Cool that you have as Shepard. You don’t demand that same respect. And I'm sure there are a lot of people who hated that.

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #to be clear: i don't think this is an actual flaw of the game but i do think it played a part in why it wasn't a hit like ME 1-3 #andromeda has plenty of flaws #some similar to the original trilogy and some all of it's own #the biggest being that it fails to take the same big swings and risks as the trilogy #and therefore feels a lot less hard hitting and rewarding #had it succeeded in that emotional core the way the trilogy did i actually think that original demographic would've enjoyed it too #in a similar way to how i adore the trilogy despite not being the intended target audience. it has enough substance to carry past its flaws #nella talks

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autism-alley · 3 months

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hi originally posted this at the end of a long thread of back and forth, here’s the og post if you want full context but i feel like this needs to be its own post especially bc i keep seeing this argument being made—the argument that the kids (in this case it was annabeth) SHOULD just know the monsters are monsters and who they are and how to defeat them before ever encountering them, that it’s a problem if they don’t.

the problem is not if 12 year olds should recognize a trap when they see one, even if they’re smart 12 year olds, and if that’s realistic. that is entirely beside the point.

the problem is rick riordan wrote a book series whose formula is bringing myths to the modern age and he’s not sticking true to that in the show—percy jackson and the olympians’ Shtick is taking these classic, ancient threats and giving them a new face. these traps work because these kids are not walking into a cave marked with Get Out and getting ambushed by monsters—the monsters are disguised as harmless mortal human beings, in harmless mortal human being places (for the most part) and i think we—and more importantly, the show—are all forgetting the mist, the magic involved here. it’s not just that medusa is a “creepy lady with her eyes covered” it’s that there is ancient magic at work here, magic that, like the systems of abuse pjo exists to criticize, has been evolving and continuing its malevolence for millennia. it’s formulaic, that’s the point. it’s the same trap you’ve learned about all your childhood, the same trap a thousand children before you learned all their childhoods, and still, it works. you fall into the trap. because that’s how generational abuse works. it’s a trap. it isn’t enough to learn monsters exist, what they look like from a second hand story that originated thousands of years ago. if you want to escape alive, you have to adapt as quickly as they do, recognize their face, and ultimately, beyond any individual trap, the game itself has to change. real, generational change.

so. the problem is rick riordan wrote a series with a formula for action that perfectly captures the overarching, systemic conflicts he was commentating on, and then threw that formula out in the show because it was “unrealistic”. i don’t give a damn about realism when it works to the detriment of the story. this is a story about generational abuse, yes, but it’s told through ‘a tale as old as time’ and that’s why it works so fucking well. and when it comes to basic storytelling, if your characters know the threat before they even walk in and you do practically nothing to then make up for the stakes you have removed, that’s a flaw. now you’ve lost the entertainment value for your audience, on top of also lessening your themes.

something else that is so. honestly soul-crushing as a writer and a creative, is that to me this is reflective of the way we are now afraid to tell earnest stories. stories where we care not for listening to the people who want to pick apart fictional, mythical, fantasy stories for not being “realistic” instead of aligning with our target audience who acknowledges reality is not what makes a story. think of your favorite movie, show, book, comic, what have you—has the reason for your favoritism ever been because it is the most reasonable, the most grounded, the most practical out of any you’ve seen? or is it because of the emotion? the way it speaks to you, to your life and the person you are? the journey it takes you on? is the percy jackson and the olympians book series so good because it’s inherently realistic?

the secret to storytelling is, very simply, focus on your story. everything else is secondary. if it’s written well, it doesn’t matter to me that the characters walk into a trap that, to the audience, is obviously a trap. because i can understand how the characters don’t know it, and how the story falls apart if the narrative just tells the characters it’s a trap from the jump. that’s what dramatic irony is—first used in greek tragedies! this is literally a tale as old as time in every sense except for the end—where it’s happy. and it’s not earned if we don’t first see, over and over, the status quo as a tragic trap.

it’s not about if annabeth (or the other kids) is “smart enough” to not walk into a trap, or about if she’s just too prideful to not walk into what she knows is a trap (or any reason that could apply to the other characters), it’s that annabeth, at the end of the day, is a character. she is a storytelling tool for the messages of the narrative. that doesn’t make her any lesser. in fact ignoring it reduces her, because it reduces what she represents. it’s about how rick riordan, or whoever else at disney, has fumbled the storytelling bag so ridiculously hard that they can’t take the simple, effective formula outlined from start to finish (by good ol 2009 rick himself) and adapt it to the screen without answering the most unimportant, derailing, anti-story questions.

#one of the ppl who reblogged the og post said whatever happened to suspension of disbelief and i could have kissed them on the mouth #yes exactly #this new age of audiences who praise ‘realism’ over good storytelling i hate u #‘content over cinema’ i hate u.#i’m not even a screenwriter but any writer can tell you #we’re talking foundations of the craft here #and the worst part is rick already succeeded in the books #if it ain’t broke don’t fix it #where along this path did he lose sight of everything he set out to say?#anyways this is its own post now go forth and do with it what u will #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show crit #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #percy jackson tv show #annabeth chase #ris raves

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cloud-ya · 7 months

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Cichosza.

#tried to not make it too dark but still have the eyes standing out. idk if i succeeded #honkai impact #kiana kaslana #herrscher of the void #im sorry im quoting taco hemingway again its not my fault that i have such great music taste 😔

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fox-guardian · 1 month

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they most likely started dating in uni. they'd been dating for years. Alice has been working at the OIAR for almost a decade. what if their breakup was literally just "we never get to see each other anymore because of your job, I miss you" "I'm sorry I can't quit this job" "I understand. But then maybe we should see other people, since our lifestyles are too incompatible" ".... okay" what if it was just that.

which would perhaps make it hurt Worse for Alice (if she Does still have feelings for him) that now that he Does work the same hours as her, that he's.... going after someone else.

#ramblings with major #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #once again wondering why the OIAR is a NIGHT JOB #it's data entry it doesn't need to be a night job #its just to isolate people from the outside world.... and it succeeded (for a while) at isolating alice until she brought sam in

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simplysparrow14 · 3 months

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Pikelan is probably the most complex CR ship and more people need to realize that instead of branding it as the "haha funny gnomes" ship.

because the entirely of Pikelan revolves around Scanlan, a very charismatic bard who flirts with literally everyone around him but is head-over-heels in love with his cleric friend but is tragically dogshit at expressing it so he resorts to doing crude bits and gags that ultimatly mask who he truly is.

And then you have Pike, a cleric brimming with self-confidence, who absolutely loves Scanlan for who he is, but is constantly getting mixed signals, because on one hand, he's constantly doing crude jokes and flirting with every person he sets his sights on (even so far as going after his unknown daughter) but on another, he tenderly holds her while she's bleeding and he's constantly at her side during battle and even tends to her emaciated brother for her and it's beautiful to watch, but the moment, the moment she brings it up, he reverts back to his crass personality and it just leaves her reeling about who he truly is.

And then we get to Bards Lament, and Scanlan, after tip-toeing around his true emotions for so long, finally snaps and lets everything he's been feeling (all the pain, and self-loathing manifested as anger towards everyone else, because even in his darkest moment, he's still so dogshit at expressing it for what it truly is) and Pike, who's been wrestling with these mixed signals, finally gets his true feelings on what he feels, calling her magic weird, hating that the same magic that has kept him alive and safe for so long brought him back to his sad existence, hating her for doing it. In the end, Scanlan leaves, just as Pike left the first time and the second time. And Pike stays behind, watching as he heads towards somewhere where she cant follow, abandoning the team and her and grog and everything they've built for themselves. She loves him, and him leaving brings her to that point.

The two are split apart, and despite the anger and hurt, the need for connection with each other is so strong. Scanlan reveals that he dident fully leave Taldorei at first, that he was only 20 miles away in another town entirely, listening to Pike's earing conversations. And eventually, when Scanlan is on another continent, he finds a temple of the Everlight (or just simply begins talking to Everlight) and prays, prays for guidance on finding forgiveness for what he said and did. He's deeply in love with pike, and still is, going to her god for answers to his problems, the quickest connection to Pike that he has between one giant ocean and a continent.

And Pike, despite holding a very rightful disdain for what he said to her, keeps him up to date, informs him of her happenings with the people of Whitestone. She should fucking hate his guts and yet the person she wants to speak to at the end of her day is a bard who (for all she knows) threw his earing away and traveled to some far off place, forever gone from Vox Machina, from her. Yet she keeps speaking.

They switch roles, with Scanlan becoming the quiet solitary one seeking forgiveness for his actions and Pike becoming the people oriented one.

When they reunite, it's tense and sad and angry. So many things said in anger and hurt and they don't really know where to step in the case that something, anything might send them back to that angry, angry place. And suddenly their back at the same place they were before, before the fight.

Pike is, again, trying so hard to sift through the mixed signals he's giving because he's being Scanlan again! Charming bard, essential party member, more confident than he's ever been! but now he's standing near the back and holding his hands and apologizing with a soft voice that she hasn't heard in over a year and a half and rebuilding the bridges he's burned and she doesn't know what to think!

And Scanlan is giving an honest effort at trying to fix what he's broken. He's working harder than ever, he's apologizing. He tries very hard to have conversations with people and fixing what he can. But, again, he's Scanlan, who is less dogshit at expressing what he feels, but still pretty dogshit none the less, and now he's a crime boss and still a beloved bard, but he's also surrounded by the friends, some of them he loves so dearly and he's trying, he's trying so hard

Eventually, everything is forgiven and in the end, Pike and Scanlan come to term with themselves and each other. Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done.

in the end, Pike becomes the person Scanlan feels the most free to be around, one where he doesn't have to put on the mask of a performer, where he can just be Scanlan the gnome instead of Scanlan, bard extraordinaire. and Pike comes to terms with knowing that Scanlan is a complex person, a broken person just trying to figure his way through this world, just as she had done before.

and together, they are beautiful reflection of each other.

#critical role #yes theyre haha funky gnomes but theyre more than that and more people need to see it #Pikelan is a good ship ya'll just lacked critical reading skills #between him seeking forgivness through reflection and her choosing to liver her best self through socialization #between Scanlan being the reason Pike's ressurection succeeded and Pike being the reason Scanlan's ressurection succeeded #to Scanlan watching pike walk away when she needed her time away to Pike watching Scanlan walk away when he needed to leave #Pike and Scanlan invented being parallel mirrors of each other #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt #pikelan #critical role c1 #the legend of vox machina #critical role spoilers #tlovm #tlovm spoilers #pike and scanlan are romantic foils as well as character foils and its a beautiful back and forth that they have

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