#pairing: samlette

[whereismywarden]

I forgot to make a post about it because I was busy playing scrabble with my grandma, but I’ve re-uploaded a chapter from the now defunct Fire at the Heart of the World. While the aforementioned fic isn’t coming back (not in the same shape or form anyway) because it no longer fits my canon, this chapter was independent enough that I felt I could re-upload it as a stand alone fic.

Lady in Red

Read on AO3

summary: samson craves red lyrium, but he also craves the inquisitor. he wants both so badly it becomes unbearable. pairing: female inquisitor x raleigh samson. rating: explicit. warnings: not work safe, smut, nightmares, red lyrium, body horror, vomiting, lyrium withdrawal. honestly, it’s kinda messed up.

[whereismywarden]

Someone cleans up nice.

[whereismywarden]

Dans son œil, ciel livide où germe l'ouragan, La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue.

— Charles Baudelaire, A une Passante

[whereismywarden]

Comforting kisses: Violette x Samson.

Aww, such a sweet prompt. Thank you dear anon. Here’s your soft Violette/Samson ❤

[Kiss Prompts]

Read on AO3

prompt: comforting kisses.pairing: female inquisitor x raleigh samson.rating: t.

He feels as if he might die. He feels the pain clawing at him, tearing him open like a wolf taking down its prey. He feels cold and lost and alone. He doesn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to die like this. But maybe he deserves it, he thinks until reality comes crashing down on him and he jolts up, breathless and shaking, but safe in his bed.

The figure next to him stirs, a quiet moan passing her lips. She slowly opens her tired eyes to him. They shine in the dark like a pair of miniature moons and his heart skips a beat. He isn’t sure he is ever going to get used to that.

“You all right?” Violette yawns.

“Nightmare?” she asks, worried.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“It’s been a while, I thought it was over.”

“It will never be over.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The thought of having to relive it makes him shudder. “No.”

“Do you want to be alone?”

He considers it for a few seconds. “No.”

The sheets ruffle behind him. He watches her approach him in the mirror, her footsteps almost completely silent on the cold stone. She takes him into her arms, pressing her chest against his back. Maker… He leans into her touch. He lets the warmth pass from her naked flesh to his. He can feel the soft beating of her heart, a slow, steady rhythm that reminds him of the summer rain, comforting, soothing. But she then plants a soft kiss between his shoulder blades and it breaks him. That one simple gesture sends shivers down his spine, his body starts shaking and tears start running down his cheeks.

Slowly, almost painfully, Samson untangles himself from her. He turns around to face her, this strong and beautiful woman. This icy woman who stomps through life like an angry bronto, but takes her barriers down for him in the dead of the night.

“I’m here for you, Samson,” she tells him before rising on her toes to kiss him.

It’s a soft kiss, unlike the ones they’ve shared so far (all of which have usually had only one purpose: lead to sex). There’s no expectation, no hidden meaning behind that kiss. It’s gentle and warm. And it feels so… normal. These tender gestures don’t come naturally for her, or for him, Maker knows he’s aware of that. She’s making a conscious effort to be kinder. For him.

“Maker, I don’t deserve you,” he breathes, eyes closed, his forehead resting against hers.

“Nobody deserves me.”

She kisses him again. On the cheeks, this time. She wipes the tears away with her warm lips. He’s certain this is how she would comfort her daughter back when she was the one having bad dreams. It’s both unnerving and reassuring.

His knees give way and he sinks slowly to the ground, unable to even hold onto her much longer. Violette slides down with him, keeping him firmly locked into her arms. Her grip is tight, almost burning, as she snuggles him. Samson buries his face in the crook of her neck.

“It’s going to be all right,” she whispers into his ear between another series of comforting kisses. “It’s going to be all right.”

[whereismywarden]

Violette/Samson “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?” :///D

Thank you so much, this is a great prompt! I took it as an opportunity to have them finally, ahem, deflower the War Table ^^

[Smut Prompts]

Read on AO3

prompt: “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?” pairing: female inquisitor x raleigh samson.rating: explicit.warning: not work safe, smut.

The War Table was the only thing left in the room. Stripped of all decor and without her faithful advisors standing behind it, the place didn’t look so impressive anymore. It was just a simple, dusty room with a large oak table standing in the middle.

Violette had never seen it so empty before. It was intriguing. She’d always thought that without the map and the small markers, it would look like a plain old table. But she was surprised to discover that someone had carved the borders of Thedas into it. And if she remembered it well, the map should line up with them perfectly. She brushed a finger along the shores of the Waking Sea, softly, as if she were scared her touch might summon a storm in the real world.

“Are you getting nostalgic?”

She turned around to face Samson who was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in front of him in a casual sort of way.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sneered. “I can’t wait to get out of this damn place.”

He snorted, raising an eyebrow in clear disbelief.

“I only came here because it’s the last place anyone would come looking for me,” she felt the need to explain. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

“I think the last place people would come looking for you is the chapel.”

“I considered it, but there are still worshipers left around here who go there to actually pray. This room isn’t being used anymore, so I figured it would be a good place to hide from everyone’s fake sympathy.”

“I don’t think they’re faking it.”

“Not the point, Samson. I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, it’s fine. You’re one of the few people in Thedas whose company I don’t mind,” she said as she sat on the edge of the table.

His tongue flicked over his lips as his eyes lingered over her body. Lately, she had gotten into the habit of wearing robes and dresses. They were easier to pull on and off with only one hand. Josephine had offered to assign a servant to her in order to help her dress in the morning, but Violette loathed the idea of being so vulnerable in front of a complete stranger. The dress she wore today was Dalish made and cut just above the knees. It was meant to be worn with some type of legwear, but she had forgone those for the same reason she had stopped wearing breeches.

“You’re not, um, you’re not wearing anything under that,” Samson stammered. “Are you?”

She smirked. “Why don’t you come and find out?”

He didn’t need her to say it twice. He walked up to her with a sense of confidence and a smug smile on his face that made her want to throw him down on the floor and ride him like a wild druffalo. Placing one of his rough hands behind her neck, he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Hungry for him, she didn’t wait to return the favour and devoured him with open-mouthed kisses. She could feel his hard bulge poking her leg as he pressed his entire body against her. He let his free hand travel up her leg with a painfully slow motion, grinning against her mouth when he finally reached the apex of her thighs.

“Just as I thought,” he purred. Violette closed her eyes, a small whine escaping her as he hooked his fingers between her folds to draw small circles around her clit. “And would you look at that, all wet and ready for a good fuck.”

“I’m not the only one ready for a good fuck,” she replied, palming his bulge.

Kissing her again, he let his other hand slide gently down her throat and push the thin fabric of her dress to free her breasts. The touch of his fingers against her tender flesh was exhilarating. No, intoxicating. She needed him. She needed him now. 

His lips followed his hand, kisses trailing down, down, down… She gasped as she felt his mouth run over her breast, his tongue rolling around her nipple, while his fingers still rubbed her sensitive nub. Slowly. Too fucking slowly!

Growing impatient, Violette fumbled to unhook the buckle of his belt. With only one hand, the task proved to be harder than she had expected. She let out a frustrated groan.

Samson chuckled. “Here, let me give you a— Let me help you.”

She pouted. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re a master of getting people naked with only one hand.”

“I could have done it if it wasn’t my dominant hand I was missing,” she mumbled as he dropped his pants down to his knees.

“Of course, you could.”

She grabbed his growing erection between her slender fingers with undisguised eagerness, starting to slide her hand up and down as he continued fondling her. He let out a low, guttural groan ending with something that sounded like her name.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered him and he quickly obeyed her, throwing it on the floor like garbage.

She gave him an appraised look, her eyes travelling over the ripples of his scarred muscles and stopping on his hard cock. She bit on her lower lip with excitement, running her hand through the dark hair on his chest and down the trail that led to his member. She tried to grasp it again, but Samson had a different plan.

Hiking her skirt up to gain better access to her, he pushed her down over Orlais. He slid his hands between her thighs, massaging them softly before spreading them wide. Her legs rested in the crook of his elbows, dangling helplessly as she waited for him to fill her up completely. As she laid on the table, flushed and opened to him like an offering to the Maker, Samson stood fully erect above her, tall and powerful. His hooded eyes glinted with unrestrained desire, marvelling at her partial nudity. 

His voice came out in a low, husky growl. “Maker, you look beautiful like this.”

“Fuck me,” she commanded him once more.

He eased into her slowly at first, with the care of a gentle lover, before slamming his hips against her, drawing a sharp gasp from her. He waited for a moment as they both revelled in the familiar sensation of fullness that enveloped them. She loved the feeling of him inside of her, of his cock pulsing with desire for her. Then he started moving again, back and forth, as she leaned her head back with a sigh.

He alternated teasing, shallow strokes with deep, hard, unforgiving thrusts. This wild rhythm always drove her mad. He would take her all the way to the edge before slowing down, letting her euphoria drop just enough to leave her wanting before taking her back to the brink again. And she loved it. She couldn’t get enough of it, knowing that the resulting climax would be that much more intense the longer they could hold it. And in the past few years, Samson had become really good at giving her exactly what she needed when she needed it. Having a regular partner came with a few considerable advantages after all.

As he bent down to kiss her again, Violette wrapped her right arm around his neck to keep him close. She could feel the pulses of his heart through his chest, faster and faster, echoing her own wild beats. They were both panting and sweating with the exertion of denying themselves their sweet release. So Violette bucked her hips against his, meeting his thrusts and guiding him into a new rhythm.

“Getting impatient, Inquisitor?”

“I’m not… Inquisitor… anymore,” she managed to let out between ragged breaths.

Sliding a hand behind her back to keep her pressed against him, Samson pulled her up with him as he straightened himself. He was edging closer too, she could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his fingers dug into her thigh. He was no longer teasing her. He was fucking her in earnest, almost lifting her off the table completely as he bounced her around his cock. There was a silent question in his eyes and she offered him a quick nod in return, signalling her own incoming orgasm. He sped up the pace, pounding into her harder, hitting her sweet spot with each thrust. They came together, their moans echoing in unison. Violette fell back onto the table, breathless, her body shaking with the intensity of her climax.

“I— Thank you,” she breathed, still shivering. “I think I needed this.”

Samson bent down to kiss her. “You’re welcome.”

He slid out of her gently and leaned next to her against the table to catch his breath. She rose onto her elbow and smiled at him.

“So,” she said. “Was there a reason you came looking for me or were you just horny?”

He let out a sudden laugh. “Honestly, I can’t remember,” he answered before kissing her again.

[whereismywarden]

She rises to the tip of her toes to kiss him. It's a much tender embrace than anything else they've shared so far, filled with longing, sadness and regret. Then, without another word, she's gone.

[whereismywarden]

Fire at the Heart of the World

Chapter 8

Read on AO3 [chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7] fic summary: when violette surana escaped the gallows thirty years ago, samson never expected to see her again, let alone as the chantry’s blessed herald of andraste. but here they are now, on opposite sides of the war and very much not ready to fall in love. pairing: raleigh samson x inquisitor. rating: explicit (not yet, but very enough). chapter summary: in which samson tries to teach violette some relaxation techniques.

It wasn't working. Samson's breathing exercises weren't helping. In fact, they made things almost worse. Violette was not only still hearing those blasted voices in her head, but on top of it, she now felt a cramp growing at the base of her neck.

She fidgeted uncomfortably, stifling a weary groan. The two of them sat face to face on the floor, in the dimness of his room. Samson had snuffed all the candles, leaving the soft light that came from the small window and caressed their features their only light source. It made the setting way more intimate than it had any right to be which, in turn, made her feel uneasy. She wanted to scream, maybe break something — even though Samson's room was more than sparsely decorated.

“You're tense. Relax your shoulders.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing them down a bit. Her entire body stiffened even more under his touch and he quickly withdrew.

“Just— Take deep breaths.”

“I'm trying,” she hissed, her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached.

“Try harder.”

Her eyes shot open and she narrowed her fuming gaze on him. She rose to her feet, rubbing her sore neck. “You know what,” she said. “This isn't working.”

[Read the rest on AO3]

[whereismywarden]

i’ve got you under my skin plays in the background

[whereismywarden]

[whereismywarden]

Cullen: What are you getting out of sparing Samson?

Violette: Laid.

[whereismywarden]

OC Masterpost: Violette Surana

[Main Tag • Full Bio • AO3 • Screencaps]   [last update: 26/07/2020]

Name: Violette Surana.

Birth: 8:85 Blessed.

Family: Ana Surana (daughter); Neriah Amell-Hawke (granddaughter).

Love Interests: Orsino (one night stand, Ana's father); Raleigh Samson (current partner).

Mount: the Bog Unicorn.

(Links to fanfictions and commissioned works under the cut)

Pre-Conclave:

Where My Armor Ends [T]: They're not friends, but Violette tries to comfort a grieving Orsino anyway. (warnings: references to past abuse)

One Templar and a Baby [G]: Young templar recruit Raleigh Samson is tasked to take a newly born baby to the Chantry. On his way there, he gets very attached to the small child.

Inquisition:

Portrait of Violette (art by yours truly)

Violette and Samson (art commission)

Au Bon Snouffleur [T]: Violette and Samson stop in a fancy Orlesian restaurant and try one of the chef's most disturbing dish.

Go Away [T]: Violette is upset. Samson wants to comfort her, but she pushes him away.

The Edges of Orlais [EXPLICIT]: Before the Inquisition leaves Skyhold for good, Violette and Samson finally have a go on the War Table. (warnings: smut)

Alternate Universes:

Samson is Corypheus' General (note: he is part of the Inquisition in the main worldstate):

What a Pretty Sight [EXPLICIT]: Samson is reunited with his Inquisitor after some time away. (warnings: smut, light bondage)

It’s going to be all right [T]: Violette comforts Samson after he awakens from a nightmare.

Are you happy? [T]: As the Inquisition is getting ready to leave Skyhold for good, Violette and Samson couldn't be happier.

[whereismywarden]

violette x samson: the fire in my heart (thanks you @liveinthehills for the help)

i. ruelle . oh my my // ii. civil twilight . holy dove // iii. sleeping wolf . come and get me // iv. natasha blume . black sea // v. jamie mcdell . moon shines red // vi. ht bristol, charlie bannister, vincent steele, nine one one . bring me back to life // vii. barcelona . cure // viii. j2, blu holliday . i’ve got you under my skin // ix. bruce springsteen . human touch // x. svrcina . no matter what they say // xi. raign . kiss me a thousand times // xii. hidden citizens . i think we’re alone now // xiii. queen of hearts . tears in the rain // xiv. james arthur, chasing grace . certain things // xv. francis cabrel . la fille qui m’accompagne

[listen on spotify]

[whereismywarden]

This is it! This is the most Violette-y piece of romance dialogue in the game!

I'm not even kidding. I've written very similar lines for her, often in a nsfw context.

[whereismywarden]

today’s mood

[whereismywarden]

INQUISITOR/SAMSON 34 or 65

Thank you for asking :) 

I wanted to do both at first, but I couldn’t really figure out how to do it without spoiling Fire at the Heart of the World a little more than I wanted to. So I picked #34, but I’m keeping the other tucked away in a corner of my mind because it’s such a good one and I might use it in the main fic (so stay tuned)!

This story takes place post-Trespasser.

[100 Dialogue Prompts]

Read on AO3prompt: “i shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.”pairing: female inquisitor x raleigh samson.rating: t.

Samson remembered the way Skyhold had been bustling with life when the Inquisition had captured him in the Arbor Wilds. There had been merchants setting shops in the courtyards, next to the soldiers sparring under the watchful eyes of a superior officer — sometimes Cullen, when he could free himself from the overwhelming amount of paperwork and meetings he had to attend as the commander of the Inquisition’s forces.

The main hall had been filled with guests of various social standings, from the highest of dignitaries to the poor farmers who had come to offer their services. Hundreds had been packed in the hall to witness Samson’s trial and he suspected more had been waiting outside, eager to see his head roll off. The Inquisitor’s decision to spare him must have sorely disappointed them. Learning about their subsequent affair must have angered them. Samson sometimes wondered how many of them had already been gone by the time Divine Victoria had called for the Exalted Council.

Only a handful of guards remained. Trusted ones, he’d been told, handpicked by Commander Cullen, Seeker Pentaghast and Lieutenant Harding. It was over. The Inquisition had performed its duty, destroyed Corypheus, closed the Breach and restored order. It was time to pack up and move on.

Violette was taking the dissolution of the organization a lot better than anyone had anticipated. Most had expected her to keep it going and serve the Divine. After all, without her title, she was nothing. A one-armed, knife-eared old woman who was as likely to vanish from history as her predecessor had.

These people grossly misunderstood the kind of woman Violette was.

Samson found her in the garden, tending to her plants and looking radiant. She couldn’t have cared any less about the Chantry, or Orlais, or Ferelden. She had never wanted to be a hero, let alone become Inquisitor. The Exalted Council must have come as a blessing for her in spite of the events that had followed it.

“You look happy,” he noted as he approached her.

She smiled up at him. “That’s because I am happy.”

Kneeling down next to her, he proceeded to inspect one of the sprouts the way she had shown him two years ago. The prophet’s laurel had almost reached its full maturity. Its berries weren’t the right shade of red yet, but they would be in a week or two. Skyhold would be empty by then, of course, but maybe Violette planned to take her plants with her.

“Are you happy too?”

Samson paused. It wasn’t so much her question that took him by surprise, but the soft tone in Violette’s voice. He had only ever heard her talk to her daughters like that, with this kind of genuine tenderness.

“I am,” he muttered with a frown.

“But you still don’t think you deserve it,” she finished for him.

“No, not after everything I’ve done,” he hissed. “Andraste’s arse, I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.”

“Samson,” she sighed. “It’s been two years. You’ve more than made up for your mistakes by now.”

“It will never be enough.”

“It is for me,” she retorted perhaps more harshly than she had intended to before planting a firm kiss on his lips. “Now come on, Cullen isn’t here today and I want you to take me on his desk.”

Samson snorted. “How can I refuse such a tempting offer?”

[whereismywarden]

I'm fairly certain that every DA smut writer out there has written a scene where their inky has a go on the War Table... Well, I guess it's going to be Violette's turn now ^^