So I wasn't actually sure what a space AU is meant to entail, so I hope a little vaguely Star Trek-inspired AU is okay?? This was a challenging combination, but it was fun!
Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 22. Space AU + 11. Neighbor AU
cw: vague mentions of injury, mentions of background character death
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Lieutenant Steven Harrington transfers from the U.S.S. Nora and onto the U.S.S. Forrest about six months into the Forrest’s mission. He works in security. He can usually be found stationed somewhere on the ship, but sometimes he’s called up to go planetside.
(He’s also too pretty for Eddie to believe he’s one hundred percent human, but that’s neither here nor there.)
Eddie knows all of this because Harrington gets the previously vacant room right next door to his.
It isn’t bad, really; sometimes the sound of someone shuffling around on the other side of a wall that had previously been silent is comforting. Much as Eddie loves the hum of the ship around him—you can’t really work in engineering and not be a little enamored of the sound of the engines purring—sometimes human noise is what he craves.
(Particularly out here in the void of space. Eddie loves his job, loves working in the guts of a starship, but he wishes sometimes it didn’t come against the backdrop of an endless dark nothingness.)
Eddie doesn’t have reason to see Harrington very often during the day, but they work the same shift rotation, and they catch each other coming back to their rooms now and then at the end of a shift. They mostly exchange nods or waves, brief pleasantries if one of them is in the mood, but that’s really it.
At least, that’s really it until a few weeks in, when Eddie gets back to his room and sees Harrington still standing outside his own, mashing the buttons on the keypad and swearing quietly.
“Everything alright?” Eddie asks as he draws up at his own door.
Harrington lets out a long sigh. “Uh, yeah, just–” He shakes his head. “Apparently if you get your code wrong too many times in a row, the keypad locks you out. And you can’t get into your quarters. Which is… great.”
“You forget your code?” Eddie can’t help but ask.
“No,” Harrington snaps, then softens a little, looking sheepish, even a little embarrassed. “No, I just– sometimes the numbers get a little jumbled.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna have to go find someone from maintenance to reset this and let me in, so…”
“Nah, don’t bother. You’ve got in-built tech support right here.” Eddie gestures for Harrington to move aside and crouches down in front of the keypad to reset it; doors and security locks aren’t technically his remit, but it’s not like they’re hard. It’s the work of moments to get the keypad to unlock, and Eddie shuffles back out of the way. “Go ahead and try it now.”
Harrington steps up to the keypad and slowly punches in the six-digit code that should get him into his quarters, and this time, instead of beeping angrily and flashing red, it chirps and gives him the green light. His door slides open and Harrington sighs.
“Thank you,” Harrington says, turning a smile so bright on Eddie that he momentarily forgets how to function. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Nah, t’weren’t nothin’,” Eddie says for some insane reason, slipping into a ridiculous accent like he does when he’s running tabletop games in the rec room with a couple of other guys from engineering.
If Harrington thinks he’s being weird, he mercifully doesn’t mention it. Instead, he sticks a hand out towards Eddie, still smiling. “I’m Steve, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
“Eddie,” Eddie says, taking the hand to shake (Steve’s hands are big, and strong, and warm, and Eddie tries not to think about it).
“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. And not even for the obvious reasons,” Steve says, nodding towards his door.
“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says.
He then realizes that he’s still shaking Steve’s hand. He lets go, but Steve is slow to draw back. They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure how to end the encounter, before Steve lets out a little huff of a laugh.
“Well… have a good night,” he says, backing away towards his door.
“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says again, wondering where the hell all his eloquence has gone to.
With one last dorky little wave at Eddie, Steve disappears inside his room, and Eddie does the same.
They talk more, after that. Whenever their schedules coincide, they spend an extra few minutes outside their doors, learning more about each other, bit by bit. Eddie talks about why he’d joined up with a starship even though he really hates space (he’d had to get out of his small-minded hometown), and Steve talks about how he’d ended up really enjoying his work even though he’d only joined to appease his dad (captain of another ship, one Steve prays he’ll never, ever be assigned to).
Their conversations edge past five minutes, past ten, past fifteen. Eddie talks about his uncle, who taught him at least half of everything he knows about fixing things, who had encouraged him to reach for the stars. Steve talks about his best friend in the galaxy, who works up in communications and speaks “about a million languages.” He mentions that they’d met as ensigns, both stationed on the U.S.S. Butterscotch, but he doesn’t say much more than that (and Eddie won’t make him; he knows the story already. The ship might have had a ridiculous name, but the fate that had befallen it had been anything but: it had been taken over by hostiles and eventually gone down in flames. The number of survivors had been abysmal, and fact that Steve is here at all is a small miracle).
Steve learns that Eddie loves music and roleplaying games. Eddie learns that Steve has a knack for avoiding medical staff after altercations planetside and for brushing off minor-to-moderate injuries.
He’s not as good at avoiding Eddie, however, who makes a point of dragging him down to medical one evening after spotting a still-bleeding gash on Steve’s arm.
“One of these days, you’re gonna come back with something you can’t walk off,” Eddie warns him, “and I’ll be there to say I told you so.”
“Well, as long as you’re going to be there, I guess it won’t be so bad,” Steve replies, and Eddie tries not to be swayed by the flirting.
When Eddie turns out to be right, though, he doesn’t even have the heart to say I-told-you-so, which he feels a bit cheated about later.
The evening starts out so promisingly: Steve and Eddie are loitering outside their doors, Steve gravitating further and further into Eddie’s space as they talk, and Eddie is just about to pluck up the nerve to invite Steve inside when Steve’s communicator goes off.
He frowns, pulling it from his pocket to check the message, and his demeanor immediately turns serious. “I have to go,” he says, and apprehension prickles at the base of Eddie’s skull.
“Everything alright?” Eddie asks.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Steve offers Eddie a brief smile. “We can pick up where we left off as soon as this is taken care of.”
Eddie wants to ask just what “this” is, but he finds out soon enough. The promising evening turns into a hellish night with too little sleep and too many hits to the machinery for comfort, under attack from some unknown, hostile force. When things finally calm down and reports start rolling in, things aren’t as bad as they could be. No casualties, minor damage to the ship, and minimal injuries. It sounds reassuring, until Eddie finds himself standing next to Steve’s bed in the infirmary.
“I’m going to be fine. Stop looking at me like that,” Steve says, even though his eyes are closed and he can’t possibly know how Eddie is looking at him.
And the thing is, Eddie knows he’s right – Steve might sound an awful lot like he’s in pain right now, but the medical tech on the ship is top of the line, and the staff is equally good. Steve will be fine, but that doesn’t give Eddie any comfort right then, realizing how lost he would feel without his and Steve’s hallway conversations every day.
How lost he would feel without Steve.
It scares him– for a moment, it scares him enough that he wants to run from it, to put a halt to things before they get too serious, before this really hurts him. But even more than that, there’s a feeling greater than the fear: one of rightness when he’s with Steve, a feeling that’s worth the risk, that’s worth holding onto.
Eddie reaches out and takes Steve’s hand where it rests on the bed.
Steve cracks his eyes open to look at Eddie.
“You know…” he says slowly. “They said I should be fine on my own by tomorrow, good to go back to my own quarters, but– I’d feel a lot better if there was someone nearby. Just in case.”
“Like someone right next door?” Eddie asks, a tease of a smile beginning to grow on his face.
“Maybe a little closer than that,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own.
“I think I can do that,” Eddie says, finding that he’s prepared to do a lot of things, if it means he can keep Steve close.
@tea42 i didn't come up with a whole fic but i had two little ideas!
So steve and kas!eddie are out with the kids, walking them around trick or treating and someone grabs Eddie's tail. And he jumps and shrieks inhumanly and the person runs away screaming. And Eddie just looks at Steve, his eyes all black, looking incredulous, and he's like ....
"He touched my tail Steve. You don't touch a mans tail like that." His voice all huffy as they start walking again. Steve snorts, says,
"He didn't know it was real Ed's." Bumping their shoulders gently.
"That is hardly the point. You don't grab a man's tail!!" Eddie shouts, a few kids near by giggling as they run past.
"Alright alright. Chillax man. You're gettin a little long in the tooth." Steve says, clearly trying not to laugh at Eddie. Eddie leans all close to him and is like,
"You think you're reeeeaalll clever and funny don't ya?" He draws, pressing his face close to Steve's, who makes a 'well yeah' face. Eddie huffs and then licks a stipe up the side of Steve's face with his forked tongue. Steve shoves him, but they bounce back into each other easily. Following the kids as they go.
~°~
Later that evening some older kids say something to Will. Cuz assholes are always gonna be assholes. But last time they didn't have Kas!Eddie on their team.
He hears this older boy, maybe high-school, way too old to be messing with Will. Anyway Eddie hears whatever the asshole says, his hand squeezes Steve's a little too tight, his bones creaking.
"Eddie." Steve says, a warning. Eddie's black eyes stay locked on the boys.
"I'll be right back." Eddie says, it's followed by a growl deep in his throat and Steve couldn't stop him if he wanted too. He just watches as Eddie sidles up behind this group of cackling assholes, taps the biggest boy on the shoulder, waits until he turns around and Steve hears him say,
"You guys like my costume?" And then a horrendous shriek rings through the street, the boys immediately screaming and running in all directions, their candy scattering across the ground, bags and buckets forgotten.
Eddie turns, looks back the group, he smiles, too sharp teeth shining in the streetlights as he points to the candy at his feet.
"Hey guys. Free candy!"
The party laugh and run and grab as much as they can as Eddie walks to meet Steve. He hands him a cherry lollipop, smiling sweetily as he holds it out to Steve.
"For you, my liege." And gives him a bit of a bow. Steve shakes his head as he takes the lolli, unwraps it, and pops it in his mouth.
"Thanks dragon boy." Steve mumbles around it.
"You did the jaw thing didn't you?" Steve asks.
"I did yeah." Eddie responds, sounding satisfied. Steve smiles around his lollipop, tucks his arm against Eddie's back, slides his hand into Eddie's back pocket, tugs him a bit closer. Eddie leans into his side and purrs as they follow the kids down the street in the dark.
Answering this very quickly for @dadrunkwriting – and as it's a micro-story prompt, like you say, I'm keeping it short 🙂
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"Pol... What was he thinking?" Merrill's voice cracked; tears spilled from her eyes. No matter how many times she tried to blink them away, the image of Pol's broken, battered body was etched on her mind, even though they'd left his corpse back in the varterral's lair. "He acted like I was a monster."
"Don't blame yourself, Kitten," Isabela reassured her, putting a hand on Merrill's shoulder in comfort. "Sometimes men do senseless things."
Senseless. That was the word. It was all senseless, all of it; from the deaths of the clan's best hunters to the varterral – the amulets of Radha, Harshal and Chandan clinked loudly in her pocket, as if she needed a reminder of what happened – to the way everyone reacted to her at camp; even to the way Pol would rather run into the jaws of a varterral than face her again.
None of it made any sense. Even the fact that the varterral didn't simply let them pass without attacking didn't make any sense.
What was going on? What had actually happened? Why had any of this happened?
There was only one person who could possibly answer, and that was Keeper Marethari. And Merrill had a feeling that she wasn't going to get any answers out of her.
"You know, they say the worst thing for seasickness is hiding below deck," Hawke said. "And the second worst thing is not eating."
Anders nodded miserably in agreement. "I know, love, but I'm not sure I could manage either." His nose wrinkled. "Especially if it's more of that stew."
At least Anders was finally present–the first few days he just remained curled up in their narrow bunk, nearly unresponsive, the Chantry a terrible silent weight between them. Hawke didn't even know how to address that wound. Seasickness was at least more straightforward. But the best cure for seasickness was to simply…not be at sea. Which–as Isabela reminded him every time he went above deck–would be a death sentence.
"That stew was definitely one of the worse terrors we've faced," Hawke said. "But no–not stew. Not really a magic cure, either. More of a comfort food, I guess, but I thought you might like it."
"I'll try, then."
Anders actually sat up, and even if the mage ended up hating the taste, it was worth the cost just to see him show some enthusiasm. Hawke sat down next to him, letting their knees and shoulders touch as he unwrapped the paper with an exaggerated flourish, and held out the pastry: delicate spirals of soft dough, soaked through with honey and sweet herbs. Anders broke off a small piece, and managed to chew it slowly, and then he smiled at Hawke for the first time in days.
"It's…good," Anders admitted. "Sweet Andraste, it's good," he said, taking another piece, and Hawke laughed, spluttering when Anders placed the pastry in his mouth instead.
"It is good," Hawke agreed, swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat that was surely just caused by the pastry's excessive sweetness.
I like my line art a lot! I wish I could loosen up about it a little more and not get so uh. anal. about things like line weight and how smooth it is. but I think it usually looks pretty good.
8. what's the most fun and least fun parts about your process?
Most fun: painting in general but specifically painting skin, I really enjoy that because it's the step that feels most like I'm bringing the character to life.
Least fun: the first sketch is always the fucking worst. I try really hard to get everything right in the sketching stage so I don't have to correct big mistakes later, but I always spend so long on it 😔 (it used to be doing flats but I finally figured out how to use the autoselect tool efficiently this year 😅)
20. a piece from this year that you're really proud of
gonna go with this one! I've made a lot of stuff this year that I really like but I love how much Kiernan looks like the idea of him that I have in my head, and I am really proud of how the lighting turned out! I've been trying to experiment with color a little more and I love how vibrant this is compared to a lot of stuff I draw
