slug

they/them - 18 where I post my silly little writing!

[slugaccidentallywrites]

i romanticize fictional men and bad decisions i’m slug — 19 — they/them

i write for: ↳ MCU / Avengers ↳ The Walking Dead ↳ Supernatural ↳ Dragon Age

what i don’t write: ✕ incest ✕ pedophilia ✕ non-consensual sexual content (rape / dubcon / coercion) ✕ romanticized abuse ✕ real person smut

asks are open for: ↳ fic thoughts ↳ brainstorming ↳ screaming about scenes ↳ writer mutuals (please)

ongoing fics: ↳ The Way He Looks At Me — slow-burn Daryl Dixon fic ↳ Crimson Details — Avengers fic (Isabella Moretti)

completed fics / blurbs: ↳ The Crow and the Little Fox — (Zevran) flirting, tension, and bad decisions in alleyways ↳ Human Things — (Castiel) quiet longing, softness, and the ache of learning how to feel

writer tag: #slugwrites

reblogs appreciated. kind messages adored. be normal in my inbox or be funny about it.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

sorry for being mia! i've been working on a book!! here's a little snippet of the first chapter!

TW: dead rabbit!!!

[slugaccidentallywrites]

Blood and No Favors

Chapter one

Dirt and small stones crumble down the wall as the ground trembles with a nearby stampede.

Varric steps in, calm as ever, already framing it in his head. “Here’s how this is going to go—they’ll come through that way—”

“Wrong,” a nearby voice says, somewhere behind him. Varric whips around as she steps out of the dark, a dwarf just like him. She’s solid, thick thighs and strong arms, built for brute strength. She steps forward, walking like she can’t possibly be knocked off her feet. Her skin tone is a warm brown and has a leathery look to it. Acne dots her cheeks, half covered by a dark blue scarf. She reaches up and swipes a single strand of black hair out of her face before tucking it back into her thick braid. “You’re wrong.”

Varric’s face morphs into mild offense at the accusation, eyebrows raising, and his lips parting in pure disbelief. “Excuse me?”

The woman doesn’t bat a single eyelash, just resting her hands on her hips and staring at him. “I said ‘you’re wrong’.” One of her hands comes up to gesture casually towards the north side of the Deep Roads. “They’ll come that way. That’s where the vibrations are coming from.”

Varric’s eyebrows shoot further up, almost at his hairline, as he turns to look north. “North,” he says, tone sharp and slightly mocking.

She simply crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a slow nod. “Yup. North.”

A small scoff leaves him as the warriors he was talking to slowly start to inch away. “That’s not possible. I checked the map.”

She hums in response before turning and starting north. “Then stay.” Her steps are heavy, giving a loud thump every time they hit the dirt.

Varric silently stares at her for a few seconds, watching her get further away, before reluctantly following. “No. I wanna see the look on your face when you’re proved wrong.”

She doesn’t even react to his attempt at goading, continuing down the winding tunnels of the Deep Roads. The torches on the stone walls flicker across their skin as they pass. Shadows shift all around, stretching into peculiar shapes. She stays calm as the rumbling from before starts up again, growing louder the longer they walk.

But Varric hesitates just slightly, barely enough to notice. His footsteps falter as he suddenly begins to doubt his earlier assurance that the stampede isn’t coming from the north. He quickly begins to speed up, catching up to her.

The tunnel begins to tremble as the noises grow louder, making the torches flicker even more. A roar interrupts the rumbling, debris falling from the layer of dirt above them.

Varric’s eyes immediately dart over to her, the doubt in his mind turning into the realization that she was right. The stampede is coming from the north. One of his hands shoots out to grab her wrist, pulling her to a skidding stop. “Okay, who are you and how did you know that?”

She slowly turns her head to face him, green eyes roving over his expression. His eyebrows are pinched, and his lips parted, harsh breaths coming through them. “Kelda. Now move or become darkspawn food.” She yanks her wrist from his grip and continues on like she isn’t walking right into a stampede’s path.

Varric is left there just staring at Kelda’s retreating back, frozen as her words register. Kelda. Fitting.

The roar from seconds ago sounds again, closer this time, followed by a chorus of answering growls.

Varric immediately takes off after Kelda, just as a hurlock comes sprinting around the corner.

Kelda suddenly whips out two daggers and lunges at it, slashing and stabbing the darkspawn, black ichor seeping out of the wounds. It cries out and swipes at her, but a bolt lands between its eyes before it can make contact. She whips around, braid flying, only to find Varric holding his crossbow with a smug smirk on his lips. “Ole’ Bianca saves the day.”

Kelda doesn’t react beyond one of her eyebrows raising while her gaze darts down to the crossbow. “You named your weapon?”

Varric parts his lips to respond, to defend Bianca, but the stampede reaches them before he can get anything out. The tunnel shakes under the stomps from the ogre and its group of following darkspawn. The ogre towers above the sea of darkspawn, their heads coming no further than its waist. Its skin is a greyish blue, and its horns just about scrape the top of the Deep Roads tunnel.

Kelda's eyebrows raise in suprise at the ogre, and she mumbles a curse under her breath before turning and grabbing Varric by the jacket. She begins to yank him away from the herd without a second thought, letting his feet drag in shock. “Move!”

Varric scrambles to get his footing, dirt getting thrown up all around him. He nearly drops Bianca as his arm’s almost pulled out of its socket. The ogre roars again before charging after the two of them, crushing darkspawn in its way as it moves.

Varric’s eyes widen as he glances back, but only briefly because Kelda suddenly yanks him to the side as the tunnel curves.

Her eyes narrow in focus as her legs pump as fast as they possibly can. “Watch where you’re going!” she snaps while her eyes search for an escape route. She spots a tiny gap in between two nearby rocks, barely big enough for the smallest dwarf to fit into. “Follow my lead!”

Varric has no time to react before he’s being yanked to the side once again, joints aching from the strain.

Kelda curls in on herself, becoming smaller, and easily slips into the gap.

A strained inhale leaves Varric as he tries to squeeze between the rocks with little to no space left for his head. He grunts while sucking in his stomach and pushing harder, but there’s no give. “I can’t fit!”

Kelda immediately springs back into action, slipping out of the gap and dragging Varric forward again. She doesn’t glance back, too busy focused on trying to find another spot to hide.

But, Varric looks, his breath hitching as he registers the sight before him. The ogre is only–

WHAM.

One of the ogre’s fist slams into the two of them, sending them both flying. Kelda smacks into a large rock while Varric hits the dirt floor, rolling several feet. Bianca is ripped from his grip, soaring through the air, and landing a few feet from Kelda. Varric yells out, not for Kelda, not in fear, but for Bianca–-his crossbow. At the same time, Kelda's scarf falls of her head, landing in the dirt. There’s almost no time to react, the ogre reaching Varric in mere seconds.

Kelda is disoriented, but not majorly, still able to grab her scarf and slide it back own. She rubs her head and takes one look at the ogre looming over Varric before reaching for Bianca. One small problem though, she doesn’t know how to fire a crossbow. Her throat works and her head throbs as she examines the weapon, finding a little lever.

There’s a small click as she pulls it before a bolt fires out, the force jolting her back against the rock. Varric cries out as the bolt narrowly misses his head, landing firmly in the ogre’s chest. There’s a deafening roar from the ogre as it staggers back a couple steps, ground shaking.

The sea of darkspawn round the corner, catching up to them, just as Kelda jams another bolt in Bianca. She prays she did it right and pulls the lever once more. Varric gasps and scrambles back as the second bolt hits the ogre in the side of the throat. There’s a split second where the darkspawn rage forward, only for the ogre to collapse right onto them. A few stragglers stagger forward a few steps before a large clump of dirt falls down in front of them, blocking their path.

Varric just lies there, jaw agape, breath coming in sharp bursts, as he stares at the aftermath. There are a few seconds of tense quiet before he slowly turns to look at Kelda, eyes wide. “What…the fuck…was that?”

A shaky breath leaves her in response as she sets Bianca down and presses a palm to her head. She pulls her hand away, breath catching when she spots the blood on it.

Varric’s eyes widen further at the sight of blood coating Kelda’s skin. He pushes up to his feet and rushes over, immediately examining her head as soon as he reaches her. “Shit. You’re bleeding.”

She lets out a small huff in response before wiping her bloody hand on the thick leather of her pants. “Really? Never noticed.”

Varric gives her a deadpan look before his eyes drift back to her hairline. He hesitates before reaching out, only for his hand to get smacked away by her. “I’m fine. It’s just a little blood.”

A sharp scoff leaves him while he takes a step back and grabs Bianca. “Right. Just some blood.” He lets out a sigh before gesturing towards the direction of the tunnel's exit. “Let me take you to a healer. I’ll pay for it.”

Kelda’s eyes narrow as she pushes up onto her knees. “I don’t need a medic.”

“You hit your head,” he drawls while jutting his chin out to emphasize his words. “You could have a concussion, or worse.”

Her lips purse as she mulls over his words before cursing under her breath. He has a point. “I don’t need you to take me to a healer. I can get there just fine.”

He sets Bianca down against his leg and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, that’s not what I said. If you’re going to a healer, let me pay for it. It’s free money.”

She rolls her eyes while standing, having to lean on the rock to stay upright. “You say it’s free, but most men expect a favor.”

Varric’s eyes harden suddenly, lips thinning into a line. “Not my style.” He sighs once again while shaking his head slightly. “You can barely stand. You need to see a healer. Let me at least help you get there.”

Kelda slowly looks down, eyes finding where she leans on the rock. “Well, that’s not–” She pushes off and goes to mirror Varric’s stance, trying to cross her arms too. Her body sways slightly as she stands there, clearly unstable. “See? I can stand.”

Varric just raises his eyebrows while tilting his head forward a bit. “Uh-huh. So, then, show how you can walk.”

“Pfft. Okay.” She takes a single step towards Varric, knees knocking, before suddenly collapsing into his arms.

He scoffs and hoists her back up to her feet, arms wrapped around her. “That your idea of walking?”

Kelda lets out a small sigh, still trying to hold herself up at the same time. “Listen–”

“No, you listen, I’m taking you to a healer. You’re getting help whether you like it or not,” Varric grumbles, clearly not having it. “I’ll carry you if that’s how I have to get you there.”

***

Varric’s boots thump on the road of stone slabs as he carries Kelda towards the nearest healer. All around, people give Kelda suspicious looks as Varric navigates the streets, some of them pointing at her scarf. A woman standing by a weapons stall points at both of them before whispering, “Look, she’s covering her face.” A scoff leaves her as she crosses her arms. “Maybe she’s hiding how ugly she is.”

Kelda scowls as she turns her head to glare at the woman, who quickly looks away. Her braid sways under her scarf as she glances around, trying to figure out where the hell they are. A nearby butcher chases a squealing nug while someone narrows their eyes and takes a step back.

Varric doesn’t even react beyond an eye roll while quickening up his pace. “Asshole,” he mutters under his breath, grip tightening on Kelda.

A shaky scoff leaves her while her fingers dig into his back slightly. “Keep walking.”

Varric glances over his shoulder at her before shaking his head. “People need to learn to mind their business.”

A reluctant grunt of agreement leaves her in response while she continues looking around, scarf rustling. “That we can agree on.”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of Varric’s lips as he slows now that they’ve passed the gossipers. “Well, look at that, we agreed on something.”

Kelda doesn’t respond, leaving Varric to clear his throat and fill the quiet with a question, “You from around here?” which causes her to immediately tense up.

Another scoff leaves her, shaky for a different reason this time. “It’s none of your business where I live, unless you want to rob me.”

Varric’s eyebrows raise, not expecting her to tense up like that or get defensive. He hesitates slightly before a small snort leaves him as he shakes his head. “I’ll pass. I’ve already almost died today.” He lets out a soft exhale before slowing his pace even more. “How’d you end up in the Deep Roads?”

Kelda tenses a bit more before forcing her hands to let go of him. “Lots of people are in the Deep Roads for different reason–”

“You’re not answering my question,” Varric hums, eyebrows raised higher in amusement and that earlier smirk back. “I asked how you ended up there.”

Kelda freezes in place, just staring off into the distance for a few seconds. Her nails dig into her palms, leaving little crescent marks. “My work.”

Varric glances back curiously even though he can’t see her face because of the scarf. “Right… That’s vague.” There’s a beat of quiet as Varric continues walking before finally deciding to ask, “What exactly do you do for work?”

Kelda finally blinks and turns to go back to looking around at the scenery. “I go places. Dangerous ones.”

Varric purses his lips thoughtfully while tilting his head as they near the healer’s clinic. “Like the Deep Roads. Makes sense.” Quiet sets back in as they walk the last few feet to the small stone building before Varric breaks it. “We’re here.” He slowly lowers Kelda down to her feet, keeping his hands on her waist.

She pulls away immediately and tries to take a step inside, knees quickly buckling.

Varric grabs her by the tunic and pulls her back up, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance but eyes soft in concern. “Yeah, no walking for you.” He hoists her back over his shoulder before she can protest, and walks in the healer’s clinic.

A small bell chimes as soon as they step in, alerting the owner. Her head snaps as she notices Varric carrying Kelda. She rushes over and guides him to set her on a nearby cot. “Oh my! What happened?!”

Kelda rolls her eyes slightly while reaching up and brushing part of the scarf out of the way, showing only the gash at her hairline. “Alpha ogre happened.”

One of the healer’s hands fly up to her mouth as she gasps. She quickly leans forward to get a closer look. “An ogre?!”

Varric crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the wall next to the cot with a small smirk. “Yeah, and she tried to refuse help multiple times. I literally had to carry her here.”

Kelda parts her lips to respond, but instead, a hiss comes out when the healer presses around the cut. “Ow,” she snaps like her pain isn’t already obvious.

The healer immediately retracts her hand while her lips pull down in a frown. “How bad did that hurt? On a scale from a nug bite to a darkspawn eating you.”

Varric’s smirk widens at the scale, and he lets out a small huff of laughter.

Kelda shoots him a dirty look, eyes narrowed and everything, before turning back to the healer. “Bad tavern knife slip.”

The healer clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “It has to hurt more, unless you have a ridiculous pain tolerance.” She presses her fingers back onto the skin surrounding the gash. “Try again.”

A sharp gasp of pain leaves Kelda in response, her hands instinctively curling into fists. “A bristleback charge!”

Varric’s smirk instantly drops off his lips as he hears the raw pain in her voice. He pushes off the wall and puts a hand on the healer’s arm. “I think that’s enough. You’re supposed to treat her, not interrogate her.”

The healer’s eyes widen at the touch, but she quickly nods and removes her hand. “Yes. My apologies. I tend to get carried away with the trivial details.” She clears her throat and reaches for a bottle of herbal antiseptic. “Let’s get you cleaned up and check for a concussion.”

Kelda lets out a quiet sigh of relief as the pain begins to lessen. She glances over at Varric before looking back at the healer. “Right.”

Varric finally lets go of the healer and takes a step back, leaning against his spot against the wall, though his eyes are hardened. He’s watching everything with a careful gaze.

The healer pours a bit of the solution onto a cloth and carefully presses it to Kelda’s cut, making her suck in a sharp inhale.

Varric immediately tenses up at the sound, his grip so tight that Bianca creaks slightly in protest. He instinctively takes a step forward, but hesitates before the next one.

The healer doesn’t even seem to notice, already leaning to examine Kelda’s pupils. “Any dizziness? Fatigue beyond the expected?”

Kelda blinks rapidly as the healer pulls her eyelids open more, the cold air almost making her flinch back. “No. I feel fine.”

Varric rolls his eyes with a scoff before leveling Kelda with a glare. “You can’t even stand on your own. You aren’t fine.”

Kelda snarls in response and goes to sit up, only to be shoved back down by the healer.

The healer gives Kelda a serious look while keeping her hand on her chest. “He’s right. You aren’t fine.” A small sigh escapes her before she shakes her head in exasperation. “Let me finish checking you and dress the wound. Then you can get attacked by an ogre again.”

Kelda grumbles under her breath while Varric smirks in victory, still leaning against the wall. His eyes track every movement while the healer works in tense silence.

She finally finishes, and Kelda’s head has been wrapped up in a long cloth, blood already staining it. The healer dusts her hands off a bit before giving a nod. “No concussion, just a nasty gash and some bruising.”

There’s a palpable shift in the air as soon as the words leave her mouth, the tension easing just enough to affect everyone. Varric’s shoulders untense slightly, body slumping further against the wall. Kelda’s fists unclench while she lets out a sharp exhale and then grunts in response.

Varric swiftly reaches into his satchel resting on his hip and pulls out twenty gold coins. He drops them into the glass jar sitting on a nearby table and gives the healer a curt nod. “Thank you.”

Kelda immediately shoots up so fast that her head spins and her stomach lurches, but she ignores both. “I told you not to pay! I don’t do favors!”

Varric lets out a huff of mild exasperation and rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and pushes off the wall, taking a step closer. “And I told you I don’t expect anything in return, that’s not my style.” He watches the disbelief mixed with genuine confusion spread across her face. “Not everything comes with strings.”

Kelda goes quiet while the healer gives a sympathetic look and disappears into the back room, sensing the need for space. There are several seconds of pure silence while the two of them just stare at each other.

Kelda slowly begins to shake her head after a moment, her eyebrows furrowed tightly. “That’s not how the world works. Everyone always wants something eventually.”

Varric tilts his head to the side and gives Kelda a sad look in response, a frown tugging his lips down. His voice comes out uncharacteristically quiet, “Is that what you really think?”

A sharp scoff leaves Kelda as she swings her legs over the cot—feet hitting the floor. “Yes!” She pulls off her scarf and gestures towards the mark on her right cheek. “People like me don’t get the luxury of being optimistic!”

Varric actually flinches backwards, his body bumping into the wall. People like her. Casteless. His lips part, but no words come out, just ragged breathing filling the small clinic.

Kelda rolls her eyes so hard that Varric wouldn’t be surprised if they got stuck in her head. She pushes off the bed, using it as a crutch as she stands up, shaky. “Don’t pity me.”

Varric sucks in a sharp breath and holds it for a few seconds before shaking his head. All the air leaves him in a punched-out exhale. “I’m concerned. I’m sad. But I’m not pitying you.” His hands hover as he takes two cautious steps closer. “You should sit down. You’re still a little unstable.”

Kelda’s eyebrows furrow as she realizes the dizziness from earlier hasn’t gone away. She sways slightly as nausea makes her stomach flip. Her legs begin to give out, but before she can hit the floor, Varric catches her once again. “Shit!” He slides an arm under her legs, the other on her back, and carefully lifts her back onto the cot.

Kelda’s eyes squeeze shut as she tries to breathe through the woozy feeling in her. There’s a low gurgle in her stomach before she turns to the side and slaps a hand over her mouth.

Varric’s eyes widen in realization before he practically dives over the cot, lunging for a nearby bucket. He sweeps her braid back and positions it in front of her face. “Yeah, just—in the bucket.”

Kelda gags slightly before vomiting, chunks of half-digested nug meat coming back up. Her hands fly out to grip the sides of the bucket, fingers digging into the metal.

Varric winces slightly and instinctively places a comforting hand between her shoulder blades. He presses his fingers into her tunic, attempting to counter the pressure in her stomach. “That’s it. Just get it out.”

Kelda’s breath comes in uneven bursts as she hunches over the bucket, almost curling in on herself. Her nails scrape against the metal, making Varric grimace at the sound. He rubs a quick circle on her back before letting go of her, just holding the bucket instead. “Better?”

A frustrated grumble leaves her as she leans back and wipes her mouth with her hand. “Don’t say anything.”

Varric huffs slightly, shaking his head while taking a step back, but still holding the bucket just in case. “Wasn’t planning on commentary, Stubborn.”

Kelda rolls her eyes before wincing slightly as another wave of vertigo washes over her. Her hands fly out and grip the edges of the cot.

Varric notices immediately and steps back towards her, hand hovering in the air, ready to steady her if needed. “You okay?”

Kelda lets out a shaky scoff while squeezing her eyes shut once more. “Never been better.”

Varric purses his lips and takes another step closer, slower this time, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal. “You don’t look like it. You look like you’re five seconds from passing out.” He clears his throat and shakes his head in mild disbelief, hand still hovering over her back. “You should lie down.”

Kelda doesn’t even have it in her to protest anymore, just letting Varric guide her back onto the cot. Her thick braid presses into the back of her neck as she lies there, breathing ragged and uneven.

Varric slowly reaches out and slides his hand under Kelda’s head, grabbing her braid. He very gently pulls it to the side so it’s not digging into her, before guiding her head more firmly into the center of the pillow.

Kelda’s eyes flutter open briefly, gaze unfocused, yet somehow fixed right on Varric’s face. She takes in a shaky breath before letting her eyes slip back shut, silently admitting defeat. Her breathing quickly evens out as she drifts off to sleep.

Varric’s breath catches just slightly as Kelda finally surrenders to his kindness, going limp on the cot. He reaches out and slides her scar back while watching her chest rise and fall with each breath that she takes. He doesn’t even know how much time passes before the healer returns from the back room. She gives him a warm smile and gestures towards Kelda’s sleeping form. “How long have you two been together?”

Varric hesitates before a shaky smirk curls across his lips. He doesn’t even look away from Kelda, eyes roaming over every detail of her. “We actually just met an hour ago. She’s been keeping me busy.”

The healer’s eyebrows raise in mild shock before she takes a couple of steps closer. She follows the direction of Varric’s gaze to Kelda’s face, expression softening. “Really? Could have fooled me.”

Varric lets out a small snort of amusement before finally setting the bucket half full of vomit back onto the floor. He shakes his head and looks back at the healer. “She saved my life. Multiple times.”

The healer pauses mid-step and tilts her head to the side like a curious cat with fish just dangled in front of it. “She saved your life? How?”

Varric’s smirk widens while he glances at Kelda’s sleeping form. “Shot an ogre with my crossbow. Twice.”

The healer lets out a low whistle before her eyes move to Kelda. “Impressive. Especially because she’s a short one.”

Varric chuckles in response while shaking his head, turning to face the healer. He leans against the little table beside the cot and crosses his arms over his chest. “That she is, but she’s strong too. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing when it comes to fighting.”

The healer’s smile returns and she gives a small nod before turning towards the entrance as the bell rings. The door slides open and in steps a man covered in soot. He raises his hand, a bloody cloth wrapped around it, and point at it. “Mining accident.”

The healer immediately rushes over while Varric turns back to Kelda. He reaches out on impulse before hesitating, hands above her. They hover there for a few seconds before he sighs and carefully adjusts her blanket. The frantic voice of the healer and the monotone responses from the miner fade into the background as he watches her sleep.

***

An hour passes before Kelda wakes up, sheets rustling as she stretches. Her eyes crack open a sliver, landing right on Varric, who sits in a chair next to the cot. He doesn’t seem aware of her being awake yet; instead, focusing on taking care of Bianca.

Kelda turns her head to fully look at Varric with a neutral expression. Her emerald green eyes rove over the movement of his hands. They’re strong, with thick fingers and rough palms. She tears her gaze away just in time for Varric to look over.

"Morning, Stubborn,” Varric says while running a cloth over the string of Bianca, eyes still on Kelda. The fabric of the cloth catches a bit of blood that was on the string, quickly cleaning it off.

Kelda raises an eyebrow in response while slowly angling herself back to face him. Her head doesn’t hurt as much anymore, though her brain still pounds in her skull, distracting her a bit.

Varric takes stock of every detail on her that he can, like he’s trying to make sure nothing happened during her rest. His eyes roam over the bloody bandage still wrapped around her head and the dark patches of skin below her eyes. “You done pretending you're fine now? You collapsed into my arms twice. And threw up.”

Kelda rolls her eyes and slowly crosses her arms over her chest. Her jaw tightens, and she lifts her chin in defiance. “You’re exaggerating.” She lets out an annoyed huff before brushing her unruly hair back. “I’m fine now.”

Varric snorts while testing the strength of the strings on Bianca, the material pulled taut. His eyebrows furrow for a moment before he glances over at Kelda. “Y’know, you keep saying that,” he mutters. “Though, I’m not sure I believe you.” His eyes settle on what he can see the best right now, her eyes. “Listen, Kelda, I’m just asking because I want to help.” He takes a deep breath while shaking his head. “You saved my life. I owe you this.”

Kelda’s entire body tenses up, something unreadable flickering through her eyes before her mask slides back on. She just stares at him for a few seconds before scoffing sharply. “You don’t owe me anything.” She lets out a small sigh while looking out the large window on the front of the clinic. “I don’t like watching people die, that’s why I saved you.”

Varric’s eyebrows raise while he leans forward to get a better look at her face. He finds a small crack in her usual mask, that unreadable flicker back in her eyes. He watches her tense up even more before leaning back in his seat. “I don’t care why you saved me; you still did it.”

Kelda bares her teeth in a scowl while clenching her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She leans forward and angles her head down, her scarf slipping clean off. It pools on the floor as she looks at Varric through her thick eyebrows. “Listen up because I’m only saying this once.” Her voice drops to a threatening murmur. “I don’t want you here, you don’t owe me anything, and I didn’t save you because I care.”

Varric flinches slightly before stiffening, his hands tightening around the stock of Bianca. He shifts back before standing up so fast that his chair clatters to the floor. “Fine.” His boots thump as he starts towards the door. “If that’s how it’s gonna be, I’ll just leave.”

Kelda scoffs sharply and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes as Varric walks out of the clinic. She waits till he’s left before immediately standing up and wobbling out the door, legs shaking. The last thing she sees is Varric’s back disappearing into a crowd, the sea of people consuming him.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

a sneak peak of my upcoming Dragon Age fic! (yes, i did post this and then realize i forgot to edit it. shhhhhhh)

[slugaccidentallywrites]

slowly getting over my fear of using em-dashes—the world is healing.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

summary + preview of the first fic of the series i'm working on!

(also still looking specifically for a dragon age fan to beta read this) 👀

a stubborn, sharp-tongued dwarf scout and varric get thrown together in the deep roads when a darkspawn stampede hits. she basically drags him out of danger, he returns the favor, and neither of them is happy about it.

they survive an ogre (somehow), and varric ends up hauling her to a healer while she complains the entire time and insists she’s fine. she’s not.

turns out she doesn’t trust help. not from him, not from anyone.

and varric… doesn’t really know what to do with that.

so he just stays.

preview under the cut!

Varric parts his lips to respond, to defend Bianca, but the stampede reaches them before he can get anything out. The tunnel shakes under the stomps from the ogre and its group of following darkspawn. The ogre towers above the sea of darkspawn, their heads coming no further than its waist. Its skin is a greyish blue, and its horns just about scrape the top of the Deep Roads tunnel.

Kelda mumbles a curse under her breath before turning and grabbing Varric by the jacket. She begins to yank him away from the herd without a second thought, letting his feet drag in shock. “Move!”

Varric scrambles to get his footing, dirt getting thrown up all around him. He nearly drops Bianca as his arm’s almost pulled out of its socket. The ogre roars again before charging after the two of them, crushing darkspawn in its way as it moves.

Varric’s eyes widen as he glances back, but only briefly because Kelda suddenly yanks him to the side as the tunnel curves.

Her eyes narrow in focus as her legs pump as fast as they possibly can. “Watch where you’re going!” she snaps while her eyes search for an escape route. She spots a tiny gap in between two nearby rocks, barely big enough for the smallest dwarf to fit into. “Follow my lead!”

Varric has no time to react before he’s being yanked to the side once again, joints aching from the strain.

Kelda curls in on herself, becoming smaller, and easily slips into the gap.

A strained inhale leaves Varric as he tries to squeeze between the rocks with little to no space left for his head. He grunts while sucking in his stomach and pushing harder, but there’s no give. “I can’t fit!”

Kelda immediately springs back into action, slipping out of the gap and dragging Varric forward again. She doesn’t glance back, too busy focused on trying to find another spot to hide.

But, Varric looks, his breath hitching as he registers the sight before him. The ogre is only–

WHAM.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

this was supposed to be a blurb, but i got carried away because i just love zevran so much😭

The Little Fox and the Crow

The Antivan Crows don’t miss. 

Except when they do.

Zevran Arainai is dangerous, cunning, lethal, all the things you shouldn’t want in a man. And yet, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Your relationship should be simple, brief even. You have a bounty on your head, Zevran was sent to collect it.

***

The straw scrapes over the shop’s concrete floor like nails on a chalkboard. Mother hovers nearby, one eye on the customers, the other watching your grip on the broom. She clicks her tongue and pushes off the crate she was leaning on, stepping closer.

“Tamsin, you’re going to snap that in half if you grip it any tighter. Give it here,” she commands. She snatches the broom from your hands before you can even register her words. A sharp sigh escapes her before she jabs a bony finger towards the back exit.  “Go take out the trash. The customers are complaining about the smell.”

Your feet move on instinct way before your brain even catches up, hands out like the broom’s still in your grip. A soft padding follows you as you walk, and you push open the back door. A cool gust of wind blows past as soon as you step outside, making the nearby trash rustle in the dingy alley.

Your hands are already moving like it’s routine, grabbing the metal trash pail. A little whisper of cloth rubbing against itself comes as you tie the pouch up. The scent of sour rot, thick and clinging, fills your nostrils as you lift the trash pouch out of the pail. Your stomach turns, making you hold it further away from your body.

The wind suddenly stops, the alley going too quiet. You freeze, pouch still suspended mid-air, and slowly look back. Nothing. The alley’s lights flicker, darkness swallowing everything for a brief few seconds.

They abruptly flicker back on, and there stands a man right in the middle of the alley. You can make out the vague outline of throwing daggers in his hands, making your breath hitch.

He doesn’t move right away, boots planted firmly on the concrete, posture loose. A sly smirk curls across his lips, intense eyes focused solely on you. “Tamsin,” he purrs like a mischievous house cat.

Your throat works as you swallow at the sound of his voice. He’s so…sultry. It makes your pulse speed up, but not in the way it should.

Intrigue glints in the man’s eyes while he tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. He slowly takes another step forward, dragging one foot behind him. “Oh? What’s this? You seem a bit…flustered,” he drawls. His accent envelopes you like thick honey, clinging to your chest.

There’s a subtle danger to the way he carries himself, like he’s a knife personified. 

Your eyes flutter slightly, cheeks warming at his words, as you recognize that accent. Antiva. Maker. How you’d like to hear him whisper–

There’s no time to react before he’s suddenly right there, close—too close. A sharp gasp bursts from your lips as you stumble backwards, knocking the trash pail over. The man’s smirk spreads wider as you flinch from the loud clang of metal hitting concrete.

The pouch filled with sour-smelling trash slips onto the ground, rotten food spilling out of it. The man’s gaze doesn’t waver, piercing into you as you fall back.

“Need some help there, tesoro?” he hums, accent curling around the words like smoke. He crouches down and presses the tip of the dagger to the underside of your chin. “You’re not quite what I expected.”

Your eyes widen as the cold metal of his dagger presses against your skin. A shiver runs down your spine. Shit. “W-Who are you? How do you know my name?!”

The man’s smirk morphs into a predatory grin as he tilts his hand down slightly. He looks at you through his lashes, eyes a warm gold that doesn’t feel warm at all. “Does it matter?”

You vigorously nod while crying out a sharp— “Yes!”

An amused huff leaves him before he leans in till his lips are right next to your ear. His hot breath ghosts over your flesh, making your shoulders tense. “I’m your worst nightmare.”

You flinch back before trying to scramble away, concrete scraping against your palms. You have to put distance between yourself and him with the way you just…want to close the distance.

He drops one of his daggers to grip your wrist instead, stepping closer like it doesn’t make your pulse stutter. He tightens his fingers on your wrist just enough to show he has control over you. 

Your eyes dilate at his warm touch, fingers slender but accompanied by an underlying strength. You should be scared right now, but you’re—Maker help you—oddly thrilled.

The grin on his lips spreads further, revealing his teeth that come to a subtle point. His pupils dilate in response to yours, noticing you're still not reacting in the way most would. Interest sparks in his golden eyes while he gives you a slow, full-body look over. His posture shifts—from ready to toy with his kill to something more curious. “Not afraid of me, little fox?”

You freeze at the teasing lilt to his voice, fingers curling against the concrete. Is he flirting with you?! Your throat works as you swallow thickly before shaking your head. “No! It’s just–”

He leans closer, lips just centimeters from yours. “Just what? Do you find me…attractive?” His eyes dart down to your lips as you splutter, barely having registered being interrupted.

You're about to respond, but your mother calls your name before you can even part your lips.

He briefly freezes as footsteps sound, coming closer, before immediately pulling back. He turns and swiftly whisks himself away into the alley, rounding the corner within seconds.

You're still on the concrete when mother finds you, a dazed look in your eyes.

What just happened…? And why did you like it?

[slugaccidentallywrites]

UPDATE!!

so, my destiel fanfic should be coming out in a week or so (maybe sooner, it just depends on how long editing takes). i'm in the last few stages and beginning to put the last touches on everything. as for my other fanfics (Crimson Details and The Way He Looks At Me), I will begin working on the next chapter for those while also brainstorming some new ideas for fics and blurbs. i also have my a03 account up and running, you can find me there @slugaccidentallywrites (the same username)!

[slugaccidentallywrites]

pick from three titles for my upcoming fanfiction!

which one would you be most likely to read?

The Edge of Losing You

A Life Almost Taken

When It Finally Slipped Out

Voting ended onMar 27

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[slugaccidentallywrites]

Avoidance.

Action-by-inaction.

Unsent

I type the message. I reread it. Once. Twice. My eyes roam over the words again and again until they don’t even seem like words at all. I second-guess myself, finger hovering over the delete button for multiple seconds. I hold it down, slowly getting rid of everything. Nothing eases my mind. I still feel exposed. The conversation ends before it even begins. I close my laptop with a deep sigh and lie down in my bed. I dream of a reply to my very hesitation, mocking me. You’re so indecisive that it makes your sister look firm. The tone was taunting, comparing me to someone who can’t decide where to eat. Hours later I awake, unsure if the reply was real. The room continues as normal, but my chest still feels tight as I think about it. I glance over at my laptop sitting closed on my nightstand. My hand faintly brushes over the cold metal. I leave it there, telling myself that one day I’ll muster up the courage to hit send.

Steer Clear:

Reading instructions all the way through. Washing the dishes.

Starting my assignments. Checking grades.

Refilling prescriptions. Touching up my roots.

Changing my nose jewelry. Styling my hair differently.

Spending money. Clicking “confirm”.

Looking in the mirror. Weighing myself.

Making eye contact. Holding a conversation.

Setting boundaries. Saying no.

Sitting with silence. Letting it be awkward.

Impaired Initiation

Decision paralysis (or analysis paralysis) is the inability to make a choice due to overthinking, or feeling overwhelmed. There are common causes such as perfectionism or fear of negative outcomes. It’s also an often overlooked symptom of ADHD (Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). People with ADHD experience decision paralysis due to issues with executive functioning. The ‘30% rule’ suggests that people with ADHD often have executive functioning delayed by about 30%. I have ADHD.

Delayed

Eventually. A word I use like a placeholder, something I can set down in a spot where a decision should be and come back to. Later. An excuse I tell my mom so she’ll get off my back about cleaning my room. Soon. Something that feels safer than now. Tomorrow. After this. Next week. In a few minutes. Someday. Sometime.

Not. Yet. I’m not ready.

Pending

People don’t take kindly when I don’t respond, they snap their fingers in my face as if I’m not paying attention. But the world taught me that if I say nothing, then the conversation never really ends. It taught me that some responses are riskier than others. So I hold my tongue. There’s no outcome, no judging your words. It remains open. Nothing is required of me yet.

Baby Blanket

The square pattern now gapes with holes big enough to fit my entire head. Stitched sections my grandma repaired hang on for dear life, thread worn with time. It sits only and always on my bed, sometimes I hold it for the sake of just touching it. An eighteen year old blanket that’s been hugged, squeezed, rubbed, drooled and puked on. My fear of being “uncool” constantly tells me to throw it away, but a little voice in my head that sounds a lot like this little girl that used to be me tells me no. That I should hang onto my childhood, even if it was kinda shitty. One day I’ll decide, but for now? I’ll avoid.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

FIC UPDATES

I'm so close to completing the first draft of my Destiel fic. For those who are interested, I have a few posts talking about it and around 3700 words currently.

Onto my other fics, I'll be taking a small break before starting on another chapter of Crimson Details. There will be some romance between Isabella and Steve, so stay tuned for that!

[slugaccidentallywrites]

little summary of what i'm currently working on 👀

What starts as a missed phone call in the bunker turns into a case that doesn't follow the rules. Three teenagers vanish near an old church in North Carolina, their belongings left behind in the woods--but the monster isn't killing. It's taking them.

As Dean barrels toward a hunt with too much anger and not enough caution, Sam starts to notice the cracks forming beneath the bravado. Castiel knows something is wrong long before either brother admits it--the woods distort perception, distance, and judgement. Whatever waits beyond the tree line is more than just a legend.

[slugaccidentallywrites]

just a reminder that your writing process is still valuable even if you don't right thousands of words a day.

sometimes i literally just write a sentence one day before closing my laptop and taking a much needed break.

[queen-suzu]

the anti-ai oath

(with your hand in a bunch of pages of ao3’s source code)

I [tumblr or ao3 username], do solemnly swear that all my slop is my own, and that no ai was ever used in the creation of it,

and that while it may be shit, it is my shit, created with my own two paws.

I acknowledge should I ever break this oath, I will be banned from ao3 for life, and will face execution by firing squad.

amen.

gay men.

EDIT: that’s it, I’m turning off notifications on this post. Thanks for loving this post so much yall

EDIT TWO: this is insanely popular so imma just put in here that should kick your local ice agent in the balls

EDIT THREE: if this hits 100k by the end of the year I will let the most liked comment decide my fate. Start commenting my fate. (within reason, I get to veto things if I feal uncomfortable doing them)

[bakedbakermom]

if you ever find yourself writing fanfiction and thinking "this is too indulgent" that is the devil talking and he can go ahead and shut the fuck up

[i-will-write]

how i sleep knowing i write shitty fiction but at least don’t use chatgpt