#hawke siblings

[privatebooth]

Nothing specific yet, but here's a thought.

Hawke is trapped in the Fade with no means to get out. Suppose he defeated all the demons that were thrown at him (because of course he did, it's Hawke!). Still, no way out. No hope. He's tired and thinks that maybe this is it, game over...

He senses a presence nearby, it's been following him for some time, and Hawke figures that some spirit took an interest in him. Tiredly, he asks what it wants from him. After taking a closer look the spirit chooses to manifest itself before him in the form of Bethany.

It replies with I don't want you to give up.

It doesn't identify itself (because I don't believe spirits think of themselves the same way people categorize and label them). It explains that it's been watching Hawke for a very long time and admits to quite liking him. Recounts that in all his time Hawke never ever lost hope. He fought to get his family to Kirkwall, believed he could make things better with the expedition, believed he could save Carver when he got the blight (and he did), kept hoping when his Mother was taken and tried his hardest to save her; when Fenris broke it off with him he believed they could still stay together and it would be all right. Fighting the Arishok seemed like an impossible task, but he gave it his all and succeeded!

We omit the end of DA2 because it's a touchy subject, but the point remains: Hawke never gave up, and this spirit wants him to keep going.

Spoiler: it's a spirit of Hope.

Wynne mentioned that benevolent spirits are hard to encounter because they don't need anything from humans. This spirit doesn't need anything either, it simply enjoys observing Hawke's progress. Perhaps it's like watching a favourite show, with Hawke as its favourite character? Exciting and inspirational!

So yeah, it doesn't seek to posess him, just wants to keep watching.

I'm still confused about the Fade being the place where the souls of the dead go, so maybe they just pass through there? Maybe the spirit saw Bethany and felt certain affinity for her too... But most importantly, it felt the love Hawke had for his siblings and figured that seeing Bethany could give him a push. Bethany always admired her big brother and her faith in him was unwavering. He wouldn't want to disapoint her! I lamented how we never saw the two mage siblings interact with each other, so I'm fixing it.

Perhaps it would keep him company and give moral support and help hold on and survive until someone somehow comes for him...

Next

[brother-genitivi]

Hawke siblings but make them glamorous ✨

closeups under the cut

[vanmarkham]

Antigone, Sophocles

[zundely]

I am of the correct opinion that there are no issues in DAII that couldn't be solved by giving Bethany a big knife.

I love my Bethany Hawke headcanons so here are some birb family sketches of my favourite angry little sister.

[persephoneggsy]

Bethany, Marian, and Carver: the Hawke siblings! 

been thinking about them a lot lately. so have some little headcanons:

Bethany was actually better at combat magic than Marian, who excelled at healing. Carver, of course, called the monopoly on swordfighting.

Though, Marian is the better brawler if it comes down to pure hand-to-hand (mostly because she has. zero honor. she will punch you in the nuts).

Carver teased Marian about her height at every conceivable opportunity.

He got away with it bc he knows Marian would never actually hurt him or Bethany.

Bethany was the “golden child” of the family, but she never asked for it.

Bethany was a daddy’s girl, Carver was a momma’s boy, but they would both pick Marian as their favorite ‘parent’. :P

When they were younger, they played a lot of knight, princess, and dragon games. Bethany was the knight, Marian was the princess, and Carver was the dragon.

Carver and Bethany inherited more of the Amell family’s appearance, whereas Marian inherited more of the Hawke’s.

In a hypothetical “Both twins live” AU, Bethany would still develop a crush on Sebastian. But it lasts maybe a week before she realizes that Marian is in love with him, so she backs down and tries to help her sister win his heart instead. Bethany and Sebastian end up being good friends.

Also in this hypothetical AU, Bethany develops a more significant crush on Seamus Dumar, talking to him at the Viscount’s Keep or helping him sneak out while Marian and Carver are out busting heads.

[wildercrow]

Hi and happy DADWC! I'd love to see something for the prompt "❛ no offense, but you look terrible. ❜"

I do noooot have spoons to get this up on AO3 tonight, so this is like... even more slapped together than usual, but here have some Bethany & Carver featuring me projecting my health problems onto Bethany for @dadrunkwriting!

No major content warnings that I can think of for this one. Just a T-rated chronic pain fic. Enjoy!

~Nuri

~*~*~

“No offense, but you look like crap!” Carver’s voice startles Bethany out of her half-awake stupor with a yelp, sending her temporarily abandoned woodburning project clattering to the floor from her lap.

Carver tilts his head to read it. “’If I were a bird, I know who I'd shit on,’ huh? And who would that be?”

Bethany opens her mouth to answer, but the pain radiating up from her neck is so intense that she can’t think of anything clever to say, so instead she focuses on straightening her posture and tilting her head from side to side as slowly and gently as she possibly can in hopes of convincing her neck muscles to relax even a tiny bit. They’re so tight that numbness is beginning to creep into her jaw, and her head can barely tilt to the right at all without being met with a sickening crunch.

“What’re you even doing out here in the living room at four in the morning?” Carver asks, picking her woodburning project up off the floor and gently setting it down on the coffee table beside her tool kit before plopping down next to her on the couch.

The motion jars her neck so much that she has to bite down on her tongue to keep from crying out. She takes slow, deep breaths in an effort to hold back the tears stinging at her eyes. Crying now would be a surefire way to make her pain truly unbearable for days to come. Not to mention embarassing.

“Bethy?” Carver asks, concern seeping into his voice. “Did something happen? If you need me to beat up Fiadh, I will. I bet I can take ‘em in a fight!”

She barks out a laugh that she instantly regrets when pain reverberates through her head like someone hammered a chisel into the base of her skull. “You could definitely beat Fiadh in a fight,” she replies in a whisper, “but please don’t. They’re lovely. I’m out here because my neck hurt too much to stay in bed, and I can’t exactly woodburn in the dark.”

“Isn’t sleep supposed to decrease pain, not increase it?”

“You try sleeping with a neck that turns itself into a fucking brick every time you lay down for more than ten minutes!” she snaps.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Carver holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t second-guessing you. I was just telling your neck to get its act together.”

“Oh,” she replies with a sheepish smile that tugs at her ear and makes her feel a bit nauseous. “Sorry. I… haven’t really slept all night.”

“Well, guess that answers my next question, which was gonna be ‘how long have you been up?’”

“Why are you up, anyways?” she asks.

“Time for my morning run!” he responds, flexing dramatically.

Bethany responds with an unimpressed snort. Or at least, that’s her intent. What actually comes out is more of a soft huff than an actual snort, but… close enough.

“But, uh…” Carver’s demeanor softens, “if you’re bored out of your skull, I can hang around here this morning instead. I’m running errands later, which is plenty of cardio for the day.”

“I’ve got my woodburning. I’ll be fine,” she says with a yawn that feels like it’s going to pull her eardrum right out of her head.

Carver raises an eyebrow. “The woodburning you were working on by… sleepily holding it in your lap with all the tools put away on the coffee table? That woodburning? So uh… tell me, how much woodburning have you gotten done, tonight?”

“I did a little!” she defends.

“Uh-huh,” he drawls. “Well, if you wanna keep doing that for another two hours until the rest of the house starts waking up, be my guest…” He mimes preparing to stand up.

“Alright, fine,” she says with a sigh. “I wouldn’t say no to the company.”

Carver’s face breaks into a victorious grin that Bethany would be rolling her eyes at if only the slightest eye movement didn’t make her head feel ready to explode.

“Not sure what you’re planning to do now that you’re here, but welcome to the un-slumber party,” she says dryly.

“I dunno, uh… I could give you a neck massage, I guess?” he proposes.

“No.”

“No? Why no? Neck massages always help me when I’ve got a stiff neck.”

She takes slow, even breaths to suppress her frustration, but even so she can feel her neck tightening in response to it. “Yes, well, this isn’t exactly an ordinary stiff neck. As we’ve established.”

“I mean, yeah, but a massage couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Poke my neck.”

“What?”

“Poke it.”

He scrunches up his face in confusion reaches out to hover a tentative finger a few inches away from her neck. “Uh… where?”

“The back. Or the side, really. Doesn’t matter much because it’s kind of everywhere. Just poke it.”

He gives her a dubious look but does as instructed. Almost as soon as his finger makes contact, his expression transforms from skepticism to horror as he recoils in alarm. “Eugh, that feels like hundred-year-old jerky! How do you live like this?!”

“Badly!”

“Seriously, are you sure you aren’t injured? Maybe Anders should—”

“Yes, I’m sure. It gets like this all the time. At least a couple times a month. More if I’m stressed. Fiadh’s uncle, the healer one, says it’s from when—” she cuts herself off, looking down at her lap and dropping back down to a whisper, “from when I hit my head…”

It’s not exactly new information. Carver knows most of her health problems are from that one fateful day more than a decade ago when her family left her for dead while fleeing the Blight. She’s told him it’s not his fault, because it isn’t. But she knows he blames himself, anyways. So it’s not often she talks about it so directly.

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “Something about my brain not healing quite right, so now it gets confused and tells my neck to tense up until it’s practically petrified itself.”

Carver’s brow furrows as he takes all this in. After what seems like an eternity, he says, “This… really fucks up your life, huh?”

She nods. Her neck disagrees with the movement, so she has to bob her entire upper body instead of just her head.

He scowls, but when he speaks he sounds more hurt than cross, “Why don’t we ever talk about this? We used to talk about everything.”

She thinks for a long moment. Not about the answer – she knows that – but about whether she wants to answer honestly. Finally, she makes up her mind and replies quietly, “I guess it’s just… I don’t always have the energy to reassure you that it’s not your fault, you know?”

His scowl deepens. “You don’t need to reassure me. That’s a me problem. C’mon, Bethy, I wanna be a part of your life again, even if it means I have to think about hard stuff sometimes. You gotta trust me to be able to handle my own shit.”

She casts a sideways glance in his direction, unable to really turn her head enough to make eye contact. “You’re sure?”

“I couldn’t be more sure if I tried! Seriously, how many other health problems have you been sweeping under the rug to spare my feelings? Gimme the whole laundry list! Out with it!”

“If you insist,” she says with a quiet puff of laughter at his enthusiasm. “Do we want to pick a day to do some catching up, or…?”

“How about, uh… as soon as I get us some breakfast?”

“Oh! You mean out with it now, okay. I mean… sure, why not? Not like I have anything better to do. Though I don’t know how much luck I’ll have with breakfast. My face hurts too much to chew.”

“Oh, I can solve that, easy. Lemme make you a protein shake! No chewing required.” Carver beams. She has to admit, that’s a clever idea.

“Okay, okay, make me one of your weird protein drinks and then I can tell you all the fun ways my body is broken. Perfectly normal morning here in the Hawke household!”

“One protein shake, coming right up!” Carver announces, already on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t forget my straw!” she calls after him, then flinches at the ensuing pounding in her head. Despite the pain, though, a smile creeps onto her face, because at long last things are starting to feel a little more normal with Carver.

[treef-greef]

Alexa play Mr. Brightside while your parents argue in the other room on youtube

[beachbeibi]

Lost & Found part 3

(Quirkless AU ft. Todosiblings, big bro Touya and Dabihawks but it’s complicated )

I Part 8 I Part 7.2 I Part 7.1 I Part 6 I. Part 5 I Part 4 I Part 3 I Part 2 I Part 1 I

[baejax-the-great]

I do love how Hawke and Varric both lost their only siblings in the Deep Roads one way or another, and just turned to each other and decided, yeah, this is my sibling now

[spookystarfishzombie]

[elfcollector]

DRAGON AGE 2 (2011) — developed by bioware.

[justcallmecappy]

#as if he hadn’t already planned for the worst #Anders has lived in a constant state of apocalypse since he was taken to the tower #a man who has escaped that many times knows ALL the exits and has planned for all contingencies

(tags via @graybraids)

How early do you think Anders sensed that Hawkes sibling had the blight? When it happened? Just after? Did Anders open his mouth to raise the alarm? Did Carver glare at him until he shut it again? Did Bethany shake her head: not yet, not now, it's too late to fix it anyway, let's pretend a while longer. Do you think Anders was desperately trying to plan while Hawkes sibling bantered back and forth with Hawke for possibly the last time? Do you think Anders did quiet soft healing spells when they made camp to ease the pain off for as long as possible? How long was it Anders and Carver keeping that secret, the two who had never gotten along but who were now bound in this? How long did Anders spend wondering if he could make Bethany "Sunshine" Hawke who was kind about Justice and understood his cause a Grey Warden? How long?

[ndglt]

HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY ROY HARPER!!

[vanmarkham]

no two lines will ever be more Hawke and Templar!Carver to ME

[merthosus]

Cigarette Duett

Summary: As you finally get yourself comfortable after a long day, you were smoking a cigarette out of the window. Even though you Five scared you to death suddenly appearing behind you, the conversation between you two gets very intense.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“You know those things are going to kill you one day, don't you?”

Your arms are covered in goose bumps, but you didn't mind. You were clearly too lazy to get yourself a sweater. You wouldn't stay at the window for more than two minutes anyway. You pull your long-sleeved T-shirt further down your arms in order to save every spark of warmth. The long drag on the cigarette makes your upper body rise up. You knew it wasn't good for you, but it had long since become a habit.

Each puff also brought a sense of security, the smell reminded you of your parents. Every time your lips touched the orange filter, your brain remembered a long hug from your mother. How comfortingly warm her closeness was, as a child you hated the smell of cigarettes. But now you miss it more than anything. No white walls are white anymore, no curtains are free of nicotine stains and no ashtray is empty. But you were different like them, you were very careful not to let a bit of smoke into the house.

It no longer mattered if Reginald found out you smoked, you were old enough and he was dead. None of the siblings thought it was great that you got your satisfaction that way, but they didn't judge you. Everyone took Klaus as a bad example and was glad that it was only cigarettes and not other things that Klaus offered you from time to time. But watching Klaus destroy himself piece by piece always made you turn down his offers.

Another strong puff made your cough seem all the louder when you were suddenly startled by the hand lying on top of you. It had been placed gently on your shoulder, with no intention of alarming you. As you turn around, coughing, you see Five standing in front of you, his face covered in a scowl. You try to hide the cigarette behind your back, as best you can without setting yourself on fire. “What are you doing here? It's pretty late, isn't it?” you ask him as you try to swallow the last few coughs. “You know those things are going to kill you one day, don't you?” Five asks you.

“If the apocalypse isn't quicker,” you smile a little and take the cigarette from your back again. “How did you know I was here?” you ask him, confused. “You can see the clouds of smoke from below,” he says as he tilts his head a little. When there is a brief but pleasant silence, he stands next to you and looks out of the window. “Could I steal one for you?” he asks. You weren't prepared for this question at all, your mouth opens slightly only to close again immediately afterwards.

“You smoke?” you ask him, perplexed. “Being stuck in the apocalypse for 45 years changes you. I found a few packs of Marlboro in an abandoned grocery store,” he tells you, before stealing one from your golden pack. You had no aider wall than to giggle. Five looks at you in confusion, trying to find a hold in your eyes. “What?” he asks, stunned. “I don't know, you're the last person I'd expect that from,” you smirk as you look at him with wide eyes.

Five lights the cigarette with a practiced flick of his wrist, the small flame briefly illuminating his face before he inhales deeply, the glow from the tip casting a faint red hue on his sharp features. The sight of him smoking is jarring, a reminder of just how much he’s changed—how much you’ve all changed. But there’s something oddly comforting in the shared habit, a small connection in the midst of all the chaos.

“Guess the apocalypse has a way of bringing out the worst in people”, Five says, exhaling a plume of smoke that mingles with the cold night air. He turns to you, his gaze softer than usual, the scowl that usually defines his expression replaced by something more contemplative. “Or maybe it just strips us down to who we really are". You lean against the windowsill, taking another drag from your cigarette as you let his words sink in. “And who are we really, Five? A bunch of broken kids trying to survive in a world that keeps falling apart?”.

He huffs out a bitter laugh, the sound tinged with a trace of sadness. “Maybe. But we’re still here, aren’t we? Still fighting, still trying to hold it all together. That’s got to count for something”. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound the quiet hiss of burning tobacco and the distant hum of the city below. It’s strange, being here with Five like this—no time travel, no saving the world, just two people sharing a quiet moment. It feels almost normal, a fleeting glimpse of what life might have been like if things had been different.

The silence between you and Five stretches on, comfortable yet charged with something unspoken. The night air is crisp, carrying the distant sounds of a city that seems almost peaceful in its slumber. You take another slow drag from your cigarette, watching as the smoke curls into the darkness, and for a moment, you allow yourself to imagine that this is what normal feels like—a quiet night, shared between two people who understand each other in ways no one else ever could.

Five’s presence beside you is steady, grounding, but there’s an intensity in the way he looks at you now, as if he’s searching for something, maybe even a sign. You glance at him, catching his eye just as he turns to look at you, and for a brief moment, the world outside fades into nothingness. It’s just the two of you, suspended in time. “Do you ever wonder…” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “what it would have been like if none of this had happened? If we’d just been... normal?”

Five takes a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours. When he exhales, the smoke drifts lazily between you, but his gaze remains sharp, unwavering. “All the time,” he admits, his voice rough but honest. “But normal was never in the cards for us, was it?". You shake your head, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “No, I guess not". Your mind wanders to what it would have been like without all the superhero stuff. “Do you think we would have got on well without the circumstances?” you ask him. Imagining what it would have been like makes you happy.

Five takes a moment to consider your question, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplates the idea. The cigarette dangles loosely between his fingers, forgotten for the moment as his thoughts drift. “Honestly?” he finally says, his voice low and thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe we would have been just like any other siblings—fighting over the TV remote, complaining about chores. Or maybe we’d still be this…complicated.”

The way he says “complicated” makes you chuckle, and you’re surprised at how light it sounds, even in the midst of such a heavy conversation. “Yeah, complicated seems to follow us around,” you agree, flicking the ash from your cigarette out the window. “But I think we would have been alright. Maybe even better friends than we are now”. Five raises an eyebrow at that, a hint of amusement in his expression. “You think so? You’re forgetting that we’re all a little messed up, even without the superhero baggage.”

“True,” you concede with a shrug, “but I think there’s more to us than just the mess. Maybe without all the pressure, we’d have found a way to be close. Or maybe…” You trail off, suddenly unsure if you should finish that thought. “Maybe what?” Five presses, his curiosity piqued. You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to decide whether or not to say it. Finally, you decide to take a chance. “Maybe we’d have found something even better than friendship,” you say quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.

You feel your heart skip a beat, your breath catching in your throat as your words sink in. The cigarette in your hand burns down to the filter, forgotten, as you meet his gaze—those sharp, piercing eyes softened now with an emotion that feels almost vulnerable. Five doesn’t respond right away, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake by saying it. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn to face you fully, his gaze intent and searching. “Something better?” he echoes, his voice tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You nod, still not quite able to look at him. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always felt… I don’t know, like there was something between us. Even with everything else going on. Something that might have been different if things hadn’t been so complicated". There’s a long silence, during which you can feel your heart beating in your chest, loud and fast. You’re not sure what you expect him to say—or if he’ll say anything at all—but the anticipation is almost unbearable.

Then, slowly, you feel Five’s hand on your chin, gently turning your face towards him. When you finally meet his eyes, you see a softness there that takes you by surprise. “Maybe you’re right,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe we would have found something…better". Your heart races as Five's hand lingers on your chin, his touch both gentle and deliberate. The intensity in his eyes holds you captive, and for a moment, the world outside fades into irrelevance. It's just you and him, standing together in this quiet moment that feels suspended in time.

Five's gaze flickers to your lips, and you can see the internal struggle in his eyes—hesitation, uncertainty, and something deeper, something he’s never allowed himself to acknowledge before. You realize that, like you, he’s been holding back, keeping walls up to protect himself from the complexities of your lives. But now, in this fleeting moment, those walls seem to be crumbling. “Maybe,” he repeats, his voice softening further, “maybe we’ve been running from this—whatever this is—for too long.”

You barely manage to nod, your breath catching in your throat as his words sink in. You’ve always known there was something between you, something unspoken but powerful, simmering beneath the surface. And now, it feels like you’re both on the edge of something new, something that could change everything. Five’s thumb gently strokes your chin, his eyes never leaving yours. The cigarette between his fingers burns down to ash, forgotten as he leans in, closing the small distance between you. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips, and your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation swirling in your veins.

Then, with a tenderness you never expected, Five presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s still unsure if this is real, if this is something he can allow himself to want. But as your lips move together, the hesitation melts away, replaced by a flood of emotion that neither of you can hold back any longer. You respond in kind, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. There’s a desperation to it, as if you’re both trying to make up for lost time, for all the moments you could have had if things had been different. The world around you blurs into insignificance—there’s only the two of you, here and now, in this shared moment that feels like both a beginning and an end.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Five’s eyes are closed, his expression a mix of relief and something else—something that looks like hope, like he’s finally found a piece of himself that he didn’t know was missing. “Maybe complicated isn’t so bad after all,” you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with a newfound certainty.

Let me know if you like a part 2 :)