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only gonna link it once and it'll get taken down later buuuut... new blog who dis @vilifyme

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it's taken me talking to 1 person for like... 3 minutes to come to the conclusion imma remake this blog. i got wicked into the hype and allure when the game dropped and leapt headfirst in without thinking. bit off way more than i can chew with moots and that's okay! this isn't against anyone, but i've sort of been reminded why i keep to myself. sooo... just a heads up. i'm gonna be changing url etc when i move. it's for my meager sanity. 🫡

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knowing what a bastard man my hawke is, you'd think he'd be stabbing [insert chosen warden here] in the foot and making a run up out of that fade. BUT!!! :)) surprise surprise, garrett will offer to stay 1) because he's confident he can take the demons (in a fight right?) and 2) MAYBE he's not the worst man in thedas (that's savo) and... his life feels like it's lead up to that point. a case of no one can do this BUT him. but also he's v v sure he can find a way out of there. someone tell carver... this is his fault.

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DARP Advent 2024 - Day One!

Get to know each other! FIRSTS AND FAVORITES!

preferred name : deeds. preferred pronouns : any / all. favorite dinosaur : dilophosaurus, solely because i want to believe jurassic park got it right despite knowing damn well they fucked it alllll up. what's the coolest rock you own or have seen : okay there's a story here.. i work at a school and about 5-6yrs back ? some lil shithead threw a rock at me from down the hall. i kept that sucker, drew a face on it, and it lives in my silly lil office now.

here is said rock, linked cause i don't wanna bombard dash.

what piece of media was your first experience with dragon age ? : origins what was your first dragon age game ? : origins which is your favorite da game ? : origins, awakening specifically what was your first da book or comic ? : the stolen throne which is your favorite da book or comic ? :  silent grove who is your favorite da character ? : woof.. okay, samson. shh. don't tell the others. what was your first ship ? romantic or platonic : zevran / warden what's your "forever" ship ? romantic or platonic : cullen / amell :'))) what is your favorite da-verse creature ? : wyverns. hands down.

what's the best advice you've ever gotten ? : " never respond to shade coming from trees that bear no fruit. " a silly quote i read once. it has a nice message at its core.

are you comfortable receiving feedback / asks from others as the event goes on and will request on certain days that other people reach out ? what are your boundaries ? if you're okay with asks / comments , are you okay with them from anyone or followers only ? : my only stipulation is that you look at me during.

share a picture of something you're excited about/something that you love!

this is my son, dr. pippin. he's smol and spoilt and he has a phat ass.

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there was a time once, laid out under the stars, when he'd thought the world so very, very big. could look on forever and never quite see the end of a sunrise. but here, sat across from calpernia, he realizes how wrong he was. samson's all tight jaw and impatient hands, laid atop a kitchen table. he's searching eyes and tongue to teeth. " glad t' see y'er lookin' good. " after a fight he'd only heard of in passing through the frigid grip of a cell door. passed on second handed from soldiers who laughed their way through the retelling.. how determined she'd been, stormed off to fight him. doing what he couldn't. what he should have.

but corypheus is long dead now, not by either of their doing, perhaps, but not despite it, either. he'd have been prouder if he didn't look so weary. run through and dragged through. " behavin' y'erself too.. never knew y' had it in you. " that wasn't true. of all the people who'd come and gone, their impressions left, deep or scarce, calpernia'd not once fallen into the line of simple. tamed. never any more under a thumb than she'd chosen to be. as worthy of respect now as she had been in those dingy old tents, pushing the pieces along a chipped chess board. " me ? well, 'm just here t' be somethin' pretty t' look at. "

@calperna ♡ s.c.

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" y' don't need me tellin' y' where you ought go, " follow the chords of blight around and you'd find the source, eventually. but samson didn't need to follow. his teeth'd chattered at the song, vision temporarily fixed anywhere but in the present. and then he'd swallowed it down. pushed the ache away like unwanted stew, the night before. never a guest if he could help it. always passing through. one step out the door or.. in the case of the lighthouse, the eluvian. all the magic, bottled and surged, his head had been hurting since dawn. or what'd felt like dawn.

" but y'er gonna ask, aren't y' ? " he doesn't like the wisps, how they flit in front of him and make ever-sore muscles jump. but samson can ignore them. sit his gaze, scorched and discolored, on rook, there, little further than arm's reach away, " ain't gonna find the core'a that blight in minrathous. might catch y'self a real fancy magister t' play with, though. "

@furhelden ♡ s.c.

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" been sittin' over there starin' for a while now.. " not from an expected throne, but a stool he's a wonder the make of.. if its craft was as old as the hold or if, like everything else of late, it'd fall apart quick. samson doesn't dwell on it. can't focus long enough to dwell on it, before the sharp tingle of his tongue serves pin-pricks and he's raised his chin, a defiant approach while stood obedient. listening. bereft the weight of armor that'd have burned his wits away, but.. somethings still burning, regardless. a simmer beneath haggard skin, " y' gonna gimme orders or just tell me t' piss off ? "

he knows which he would choose. he knows which she should choose.. but recent patterns have made him a poor bet and hard eyes won't pry the answer from the inquisitor any quicker. " or y' just wantin' t' gloat a bit ? "

@veilflame ♡ s.c.

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i offer redemption(ish) au samson starters... ;3; i wanna write my son today. uwu

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Using tongs, Maddox placed the finished armor piece aside and took up the broken greatsword in both hands. “I see bending here and here. This struck a shield with great force.” “It did,” Samson said. “Still, that’s a decent Kirkwall blade. Too good for scrap. See what you can make of it.” Samson looked around the tent with its little wonders. “You’ll have it done in a minute or two, right?” Maddox looked up. “Oh, no. I will have to chisel the broken ends so they interlock before heating the forge sufficiently for the weld. Then—“

“Just a joke, Maddox,” said Samson, gently.

(snippets taken from paper & steel. for #samsonpositive)

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sitting like this, waiting for the questions to come, he can guess the order but prefers to let them dawdle. not so much an invite as a connection of necessity, samson licks his teeth, the fade tickling the back of his throat.. " y' want me t' ask fer ya ? " why he'd want to help. why he'd want to right the wrongs he'd helped set into motion. why samson sits in this dreaded tower, leant back on a sofa not so uncomfortable as it looks. " 'm fine with waitin' if y' wanna drag it out. " if rook wants to wait for the words to come. if he's a penchant for the elaborate and reading between varric's lies lines.

" y'er taller than i expected. " with distant eyes and the sort of long, flowing hair that's always made his fingers twitch for want to touch. unwelcome, perhaps, but.. " got this hole lookin' awful cozy f'er where its at. "

@glamorgore ♡ s.c.

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he doesn't taste the broth when it goes down, but the warmth is a welcome change from the cold. where skyhold is a blister on the mountainside and all eyes have a penchant for traveling towards him, sooner or later. no one is an exception, he's learned. not the nobles who wander in with their petty squabbles that, somehow, need inquisition intervention. not the vendors who'll take his coin before speaking to him. and not him. the wildling, harried eyed and skeptical at the other side of an empty kitchen. poking fun wouldn't lessen the sour regard, but death wishes were some samson held closest.

" y' wantin' a sip ? " from his bowl, offered with a crooked grin and sharp, glowing eyes. where the lyrium hasn't worn off completely and the pangs of withdrawal are minimal. " c'mere an' i'll feed y'. "

@opyrrhic ♡ s.c.

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he makes no move, at first, to chew up the distance between them. stays as he is, at the other side of a table miles on miles long, now. when months had turned into years had turned into a goddamn decade. malcolm looks older, as he's sure he does as well, but it's a rare day when samson chooses to meet his reflection. even now, when the lyrium is more a whisper than a chorus. even now, when a dead man has crawled out of the fade and it's a wonder he's not begun throwing things since hawke's arrival. here, in a place he feels uncomfortable. here in a place he doesn't belong. playing hero. acting in a role that brings more scoffs than appreciation.

" y'er a real piece'a work, y'know that. " rich, coming from him, perhaps, but the room is shrinking now and the stool he's been perched atop has fallen as he stood. " tossin' y'erself t' the demons without lettin' a man see y' first. " twelve years back ( maybe longer, he's not tracked time well ) and samson holds his makeshift grudge like a distant lover's hand. squeezes it till bones roll. pulls at fingers and wrist and arm— " c'mere y' bastard. "

@apostated ♡ s.c.

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" inquisitor, " it isn't as hostile as it used to be, but there's an edge, there, that fails to hide itself. can't be blunted for the itch of his palms and how the crick in his neck never fails to settle. not her fault, that. she's not the one who'd kept him in the yard half the day, drilling recruits that, somehow, couldn't keep pace. lacked the drive of a dead man walking. with knuckles that split in his gloves and eyes burning in the light. it's not her fault, so his sigh comes, eventually. sags his shoulders. " y' need somethin' ? " outside of her watchful eyes and her judgement. her awful, shite judgement.

" was headed t' the garden, " an implied stipulation to his attention. an unspoken adage of walk with me.

@dinnanshiral ♡ s.c.

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i offer redemption(ish) au samson starters... ;3; i wanna write my son today. uwu

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still one of the best decisions i've ever made :)))

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" you've been holed up in this room for two days now, " though it lacks accusation, cassandra's voice is stern. it matches the pull of her brows and how she's idled, there, in the doorway of cullen's quarters, arms crossed and the light from outside bleeding in behind her. " hiding from your problems will not solve them for you. " with every new templar brought through those gates, their bodies ripe with the song of lyrium, she'd come to expect as much. but she is nothing if not a firm taskmaster. " walk the battlements with me and i will leave you be for another two days if you wish. fresh air will do you good, cullen. "

@faderifted , cullen ♡ s.c.

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nathaniel's never been so encumbered with pride he's unable to do as she asks.. even when, what she asks for, feels mundane. to scout ahead. to track whatever'd left the most recent prints near camp. the little things that keep him busy, mind far disposed from the woman at his back and the implications of her shadow. but, sometimes...

pettiness is a howe family trait. inherited from both mother, and father, it feeds the shine in pale eyes once returned from his trek, path carved deliberately close to his commander, " your route is clear, my lady. "

@thanflowers ♡ s.c.