Hello hello! I’ve been reading your LOA x Reader stuff, and this may be a more odd ask or I’m missing something, but (if your requests are open), have you done anything for Rett Indigo? He’s my absolute fav and I need to love on that big ol’ man so badly and your stories/HCs are so well-written, if there was one of Rett, I’d poof into a very happy pile of dust 💜
EEP, thank you so much for your patience on this!! I think that, at the time of this request, I didn't have anything for Rett -- I'm glad to have finally changed that! He is literally THE character, and this was very fun to write. Do enjoy!!
Time is a strange thing: On your home planet, it seemed to rule just about every aspect of your life. And of course, you know that the same is true for other planets, too. But up here, in the open vastness of space, it seems almost irrelevant. How could it have any meaning, with no sun to orbit?
Still, it's been five years. If you're counting by the time of your birth planet, anyways. Your eyes don't see it, and your body doesn't really know what those 1,825 days feels like beyond the physical toll of getting the shit kicked out of it during a bounty… but still, time has passed regardless of the scale you use to track it. It's funny like that, you suppose.
You lean over the railing of the captain's deck, trusting it to bear your weight as you look out into the infinite rainbow cosmos. Asteroids and comets, hundreds of meters wide are pushed aside by the undulating motions of the whales outside as they ride their iridescent currents of aether. The view, backlight by countless twinkling stars, is a sight that has come to feel like home to you. Stories of such things were commonplace as a child, but there's no amount of words that could ever come close to describing just how beautiful it really is.
Comets, massive chunks of ice that wane into ever-smaller megaliths with each pass around the sun illuminating this portion of the galaxy, decorate the unending void like massive, unending grey clouds. They're so far from the Rhapsody's hull, and yet, there's some small part of your mind that thinks that if you only reached out past the glass, you could graze your fingertips across their icy forms. Its beautiful. Breathtaking.
Nearly 2000 times you've seen this view, and every time, its just as magical as the first.
A squeaky, metallic bark at your feet brings you out of your wonder; although, you wouldn't say it startles you. This, too, is something you've experienced more time than you could ever hope to count. You grin, eyes crinkling at the corners as you lean down to pick up the robotic pug.
"Hey, Hank."
He wiggles excitedly as he's lifted into your arms, even as his battery flashes a dim yellow. You tsk, kissing his forehead and turning your back to the view. "Shouldn't you be on your charging port by now, bud?"
He barks and wags his curled tail — an action that, with his little potato-esque body, makes his entire rear end wiggle in your hold. Cutest damn dog you've ever seen, robotic or otherwise. You scrunch your nose affectionately at him and it spurs another bout of happy thrashing, forcing you to tuck him more securely into your arms. Knowing Hank, he's probably been waiting for you to come to bed — sweet, stubborn boy that he is.
And to be fair, he's right. You probably should be in bed by now… but you don't need to tell yourself that, because just a moment later, the pretty baritone voice you've come to love takes the words straight out of your mouth.
The pale white light of the rest of the ship illuminates Rett in a heavenly sort of glow as he enters the archway of the captain's deck, tinging the edges of his form in a light not unlike the stars and comets from the view outside. His braces have been discarded for the night, the metal appendages long since tucked away with today's work in the rearview. Of his normal clothes, only his boots, undershirt, and overalls remain.
The latter has been shucked from his shoulders and hastily buttoned just below his stomach, giving you a perfect view of the plush dips and curves of his abdomen. The evidently-impromptu fashion decision pushes his stomach up just a touch more, emphasizing his natural curves in a way that's just so perfectly Rett.
"And you should be in bed," he says, although with all of your ogling, the words hardly register. And yet, some piece of your brain picks up on the movement of his lips — thank the stars.
You tsk again, checking a watch on your wrist that doesn't exist: "You're a couple minutes late Rett, was beginning to think you forgot about me."
You rub your thumb along Hank's temple affectionately and kiss his cool, metal forehead one last time before placing him back down on the ground and turning back to the view behind you — Hank's a cute boy, but alas, you can't quite hold him forever. Still, he doesn't seem to mind as he finds a place by your feet just after, sitting halfway on your foot and leaning his head on your calf.
Rett's boots thud quietly against the metal floor as he makes his way over to you, taking up a place at your open side. Hands meet and interlock, his warmth enveloping you as you lean into him. The tension of the day fades in an instant, and you sigh contentedly. When he speaks again, his voice is low, soothing, mindful of the peaceful atmosphere that's washed over the deck.
"Was just waiting to see if you'd come to bed on your own this time," he says.
"And miss this view? Never."
A hearty breath of amusement escapes his lips before he squeezes your hand: "Its the same view as it always is, you know."
And of course, you squeeze back, laughing quietly under your breath. "That's rich, coming from you."
You let yourself fall deeper into him, and in turn, he disentagles your interlocked hands to wrap an arm around your middle. He's sturdy, strong… his bicep against your spine, his broad hand against your ribcage, stroking affectionately at the skin below the cloth… just as always, you two fit together like a puzzle piece, where it's nearly impossible to decipher any true beginning or end to the self.
"I think…" you murmur, "I'll start going to bed on time once I've counted all the comets, and asteroids, and stars. I think that sounds fair, huh, hun?" You turn your head to look at him, finding only fondness in his gaze.
"Sure, sure. And then you'll want to count all the clouds."
"And all the different nebulae too, obviously."
His lips meet your temple, the rough of his beard scratching pleasantly against your skin. The scent of his aftershave, soothing cedar and sandlewood, grace you just after — as warm as his voice as he speaks again: "Right, of course. Sounds good to me."
"So, five more minutes?"
"Always. But you're gonna put the coffee on in the morning."
"Deal…So, six more minutes?"
"Don't push it."
You laugh under your breath and let the silence return — you know the time doesn't really matter. You think he'd stay up with you all night like this, if only you asked. He'd probably complain about the lack of sleep in the morning, but he'd do it the next night again, too. He's always been like that for you — ever the sweetheart, and ever the lover.
The glimmering nebulae and flowing streams of aether cast a dim rainbow on your forms, their vibrance acting as a final spectacle for the night. You relax further into one another, just as Hank's lights begin to dim as he enters a soft rest of his own. You've seen this sight almost every day for five years, and of that time, you've found yourselves in this exact position for the better of it.
And you very much look forward to doing it again, and again, and again.
Hello hello! I’ve been reading your LOA x Reader stuff, and this may be a more odd ask or I’m missing something, but (if your requests are open), have you done anything for Rett Indigo? He’s my absolute fav and I need to love on that big ol’ man so badly and your stories/HCs are so well-written, if there was one of Rett, I’d poof into a very happy pile of dust 💜
EEP, thank you so much for your patience on this!! I think that, at the time of this request, I didn't have anything for Rett -- I'm glad to have finally changed that! He is literally THE character, and this was very fun to write. Do enjoy!!
Time is a strange thing: On your home planet, it seemed to rule just about every aspect of your life. And of course, you know that the same is true for other planets, too. But up here, in the open vastness of space, it seems almost irrelevant. How could it have any meaning, with no sun to orbit?
Still, it's been five years. If you're counting by the time of your birth planet, anyways. Your eyes don't see it, and your body doesn't really know what those 1,825 days feels like beyond the physical toll of getting the shit kicked out of it during a bounty… but still, time has passed regardless of the scale you use to track it. It's funny like that, you suppose.
You lean over the railing of the captain's deck, trusting it to bear your weight as you look out into the infinite rainbow cosmos. Asteroids and comets, hundreds of meters wide are pushed aside by the undulating motions of the whales outside as they ride their iridescent currents of aether. The view, backlight by countless twinkling stars, is a sight that has come to feel like home to you. Stories of such things were commonplace as a child, but there's no amount of words that could ever come close to describing just how beautiful it really is.
Comets, massive chunks of ice that wane into ever-smaller megaliths with each pass around the sun illuminating this portion of the galaxy, decorate the unending void like massive, unending grey clouds. They're so far from the Rhapsody's hull, and yet, there's some small part of your mind that thinks that if you only reached out past the glass, you could graze your fingertips across their icy forms. Its beautiful. Breathtaking.
Nearly 2000 times you've seen this view, and every time, its just as magical as the first.
A squeaky, metallic bark at your feet brings you out of your wonder; although, you wouldn't say it startles you. This, too, is something you've experienced more time than you could ever hope to count. You grin, eyes crinkling at the corners as you lean down to pick up the robotic pug.
"Hey, Hank."
He wiggles excitedly as he's lifted into your arms, even as his battery flashes a dim yellow. You tsk, kissing his forehead and turning your back to the view. "Shouldn't you be on your charging port by now, bud?"
He barks and wags his curled tail — an action that, with his little potato-esque body, makes his entire rear end wiggle in your hold. Cutest damn dog you've ever seen, robotic or otherwise. You scrunch your nose affectionately at him and it spurs another bout of happy thrashing, forcing you to tuck him more securely into your arms. Knowing Hank, he's probably been waiting for you to come to bed — sweet, stubborn boy that he is.
And to be fair, he's right. You probably should be in bed by now… but you don't need to tell yourself that, because just a moment later, the pretty baritone voice you've come to love takes the words straight out of your mouth.
The pale white light of the rest of the ship illuminates Rett in a heavenly sort of glow as he enters the archway of the captain's deck, tinging the edges of his form in a light not unlike the stars and comets from the view outside. His braces have been discarded for the night, the metal appendages long since tucked away with today's work in the rearview. Of his normal clothes, only his boots, undershirt, and overalls remain.
The latter has been shucked from his shoulders and hastily buttoned just below his stomach, giving you a perfect view of the plush dips and curves of his abdomen. The evidently-impromptu fashion decision pushes his stomach up just a touch more, emphasizing his natural curves in a way that's just so perfectly Rett.
"And you should be in bed," he says, although with all of your ogling, the words hardly register. And yet, some piece of your brain picks up on the movement of his lips — thank the stars.
You tsk again, checking a watch on your wrist that doesn't exist: "You're a couple minutes late Rett, was beginning to think you forgot about me."
You rub your thumb along Hank's temple affectionately and kiss his cool, metal forehead one last time before placing him back down on the ground and turning back to the view behind you — Hank's a cute boy, but alas, you can't quite hold him forever. Still, he doesn't seem to mind as he finds a place by your feet just after, sitting halfway on your foot and leaning his head on your calf.
Rett's boots thud quietly against the metal floor as he makes his way over to you, taking up a place at your open side. Hands meet and interlock, his warmth enveloping you as you lean into him. The tension of the day fades in an instant, and you sigh contentedly. When he speaks again, his voice is low, soothing, mindful of the peaceful atmosphere that's washed over the deck.
"Was just waiting to see if you'd come to bed on your own this time," he says.
"And miss this view? Never."
A hearty breath of amusement escapes his lips before he squeezes your hand: "Its the same view as it always is, you know."
And of course, you squeeze back, laughing quietly under your breath. "That's rich, coming from you."
You let yourself fall deeper into him, and in turn, he disentagles your interlocked hands to wrap an arm around your middle. He's sturdy, strong… his bicep against your spine, his broad hand against your ribcage, stroking affectionately at the skin below the cloth… just as always, you two fit together like a puzzle piece, where it's nearly impossible to decipher any true beginning or end to the self.
"I think…" you murmur, "I'll start going to bed on time once I've counted all the comets, and asteroids, and stars. I think that sounds fair, huh, hun?" You turn your head to look at him, finding only fondness in his gaze.
"Sure, sure. And then you'll want to count all the clouds."
"And all the different nebulae too, obviously."
His lips meet your temple, the rough of his beard scratching pleasantly against your skin. The scent of his aftershave, soothing cedar and sandlewood, grace you just after — as warm as his voice as he speaks again: "Right, of course. Sounds good to me."
"So, five more minutes?"
"Always. But you're gonna put the coffee on in the morning."
"Deal…So, six more minutes?"
"Don't push it."
You laugh under your breath and let the silence return — you know the time doesn't really matter. You think he'd stay up with you all night like this, if only you asked. He'd probably complain about the lack of sleep in the morning, but he'd do it the next night again, too. He's always been like that for you — ever the sweetheart, and ever the lover.
The glimmering nebulae and flowing streams of aether cast a dim rainbow on your forms, their vibrance acting as a final spectacle for the night. You relax further into one another, just as Hank's lights begin to dim as he enters a soft rest of his own. You've seen this sight almost every day for five years, and of that time, you've found yourselves in this exact position for the better of it.
And you very much look forward to doing it again, and again, and again.
"Alara's Lightbringer"
I really had to push through to finish this one and while i'm very tried from shading all those feathers, it was worth it for my fav Pyke. Tried a bunch of new things on this illustration to learn clip studio paint a little bit more and I think it turned out pretty rad. Ophelia is up next!
I LOVE COLLABORATIVE SOTRYTELLING I LOVE CREATING THINGS TOGETHER I LOVE "YES AND"ING WITH OTHERS I LOVE "NO BUT WHAT ABOUT-"S I LOVE HEARIJG MY FRIENDS' IDEAS I LOVE BOUNDING OFF OF THEM I LOVE ART I LOVE STORIES I LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT PASSIONS AND SKILLS REQUIRED I LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT MEDIA IT TAKES I LOVE I LOVE I LOVE
