#evil hawke

[salemcantupdate]

Ok I’m going insane. I’ve been thinking about the Inquisitor that I’m planning out. I’ve always had way more difficulty planning inquisitors rather than Hawke’s or Wardens, mostly cause to me the inquisition is inherently kind of.. bad. But the game refuses to address this. And then I made my version of an evil character who I loved, a mage Adaar who hated her own magic and hated the Qun even more despite sharing their thoughts on mages, she never had Bull join on, she ended up being super pro chantry and kind of believing she was Chosen. Mostly I leaned into a lot of the more fascist stuff, she had a very bad relationship with Morrigan and didn’t trust her one bit, etc.

And then Veilguard came out and it was fucking impossible for me to even see her there. She had decided to kill Solas, but then at the end of the game I still got the ending where we redeemed him. Not to mention that she was way too friendly with Morrigan. It just kinda broke my immersion a lot. And yeah, I could just ignore Veilguard entirely, but it will always float in the back of my mind, especially since I love the potential it has.

Thus my beloved Adaar had to be pushed aside, well not really, but mostly cause I just couldn’t keep writing her with all these mental hangups. She’s still near and dear to my heart, a victim of spiraling self hatred that’s fueled by those around her who raise her up on a pedestal. The more she was the Herald, the less she was herself.

But all this to say, I’ve been having a super fucking hard time coming up with a new character since then. I kind of decided on a former tranquil a while back, I just couldn’t resist the self indulgence anymore. Especially since any form of truly “evil” inquisitor just Does Not Work anymore (to me evil is being super pro chantry and anti mage, btw), but I also can’t really get behind an inquisitor who truly does good. Cause at the end of the day, you’re an inquisition, and the job is to return stuff to the status quo. But the status quo isn’t good.

So, tranquil, someone who had no right to identity and free will until recently, who is emotionally volatile and has difficulty leading. The perfect solution for someone to bumble their way through and kind of just be influenced by those around them. Not to say they aren’t their own character, of course.

It also follows my ‘theme’ of sorts, my Warden is a Surana who is diametrically anti chantry, a blood mage demon summoner who began returning to his elven roots and became an Arcane Warrior. He became what the chantry fears, a mage in power who uses blood magic to get his way. But he’s also at his core good.

Then there’s Hawke, a warrior who his job was to protect his family and he fails over and over again. Slowly his hatred of magic and its threat growing and growing, he starts taking lyrium, his paranoia and anger growing, abusing his lover, Anders, keeping him close always. Manipulating and trapping the man with him as he becomes a horror as bad as Meredith. He aids in her annulment, slaughtering any mage in his path, until he got to his sister. He intended to trap her with him, too, which is what had him turning against Meredith. He became a “hero”, praised for the horrors he wrought.

A mage raised within the circle who turns against it, and a warrior raised against the circle who becomes for it. Opposites.

So a tranquil sits between that.

But then what do I do with this? Cadash and Adaar are crossed of the list of possible Inquisitors, Qunari mages, even if they’re Vashoth, would likely just be killed rather than brought into a circle. And well, dwarves can’t be mages.

Issue is… I don’t like Trevelyan. I just don’t. It annoys me, it’s not fun, I don’t like playing humans unless it’s necessary. But I was struggling, cause Lavellan is so tied to being dalish. And dalish obviously don’t have tranquil, so what do??? Struggle.

Then I was like, ok, what if they were made tranquil and then adopted into the clan? Like, Kirkwall circle, escape, joined clan. Could’ve made it so Samson is who got the tranquil out, the only Templar who really cares about them, and they ended up running into clan Lavellan. Maybe Samson was heading to Corypheus, but Clan Lavellan offered to take in the elven tranquil and mages. And my character chose to stay cause it seemed easier to them. Then cause they were a tranquil they were the one sent to spy on the conclave since they’d blend in smoothly. But I just… wasn’t feeling it, ya know??? It just felt… too contrived for my tastes. Too self indulgent.

Then my beloved mutual (@albaharu who’s doing a FANTASTIC comic with inquisitor Maddox that yall should all check out) suggested something completely genius. What if they were dalish, captured, and then made tranquil? And then it kind of clicked in my head.

Still, I didn’t think too hard on it for a while, still somewhat frustrated. But last night, or this morning, I woke up at 3am and wasn’t able to sleep. And it just got stuck in my head.

Mostly cause I was thinking of an Iron Bull fantasy thing and then got in my head about who this Inquisitor was BUT AHEM

And it all started to just… fall into place. PLUS it allows a smooth rewrite for Cullen to ensure that his redemption arc is more realistic by the time of Inquisition along with adding more to my Bethany’s arc. FURTHERMORE, it even makes the dynamic with Varric and my evil Hawke more interesting with the Inquisitor! So let’s get started.

Alright, Dalish elf from clan Lavellan. Key thing, they aren’t a first, or second, or even on the block for it. The inquisition thing of only “three mages per clan” is a stupid fucking retcon, but Lavellan has three official mages. And my guy isn’t one of them. They were a young hunter instead, pride a bit too big for their britches. And because I cannot resist myself, I’m making them trans as well, which I’m going with clan Lavellan is more accepting of. Deshanna actually was trying to push him into becoming the Second since I’m going with clan Lavellan (not every clan) believed being transgender meant having a stronger connection to the fade. They have a different term than transgender.

Anyways, he’s once again, bit too prideful for his britches, decides to do the hunting ceremony to reach adulthood, gets his vallaslin, at the age of about 16. Which I’m going with is likely around the normal age to do so, if maybe a bit early.

He goes on a hunting party, they get too close to a group of Templars hunting mages, and, well, the hunting party is mostly slaughtered, some escaping back to the clan to warm them. My guy isn’t one of them, and the tempalrs take notice that the smite affects him, and instead of killing him they “show mercy” and take him back to the circle, especially since he’s cowering at this point.

I’m going with he’s taken to the Kirkwall Circle, the Gallows. This sucks for him, of course. But Meredith hasn’t gone completely mad, and Orsino vouches, and they try to reeducate him. First, transphobia, refuse to accept him as a man, I won’t get into the horrors I imagine there (also, just as I think some dalish clans would prize trans mages for being closer to the fade in their eyes, I think the circles would despise trans mages for that exact same reason). At the end of the day, though, he is made tranquil. Head shaved (I like to think the dalish really value their hair, so it’s another make against that), and the brand placed over his vallaslin.

And we all know the horrors of the Gallows.

Specifically I did get the thought of an elven mage asking tranquil him about the dalish, whispering and keeping quiet. But then a Templar asks what they were talking about and he just… tells them. It’s easier to just tell them. That elven mage was tranquil within the week. He eventually stopped answering questions regarding the dalish, especially to mages. Templars he’d always answer, it was easier.

But now the next bit is, how does he get out of the Gallows? Easy! I’m going with Cullen actually was growing somewhat close with Bethany. Ick, I know, going for mages under his command again, he’s got a type. And Bethany, the longer she was in the circle, the more she couldn’t take it, writing lies back to her brother to comfort him, to try and trick herself into believing them… but there’s only so much you can do.

So, what if, during the annulment after the bombing of the chantry, Bethany was ready, kind of. She jumps into action, gathering the children and as many mages as she can, Cullen and a handful of templars agreeing to help, seeing Meredith as having gone too far. Samson part of the group too, Samson being the one to focus on the tranquil, to try and save them as well. Bethany and some other mages taking a stand to buy time for others to escape, especially the children.

Maybe Bethany had grown closer to my guy specifically cause she had grown close with Merrill. So even if he didn’t answer questions regarding, he’d listen, and well, she was human, and a Hawke. So he didn’t shut down the conversation. So he ends up in the escape group of mostly mages that was pushed out by Bethany and led away by Cullen, rather than with the group of mostly tranquil led by Samson. Lots of mages are very uncomfortable with his presence.

Hawke spares Bethany after having slaughtered everyone else, but in the chaos of the fight against Meredith she and Cullen essentially swap, him fighting Meredith and her leading the mages out of Kirkwall.

This also means I’m essentially gonna be headcanoning that Bethany is with the rebel mages, and that my guy ends up sticking with her. I can do a lot with the in between time, but I know he ends up being one of the only folks in the group who knows how to hunt and cook and clean clothes. He’s tranquil, but he ends up invaluable to the group for knowing how to build a bow and fletch arrows. He remembers, even if it’s been years. So he keeps everyone fed at Bethany’s request.

(Ignore Anders, he’s currently stuck in an abusive torment nexus with Hawke in this verse)

And this would essentially be how he ends up at the Conclave, instead of being a spy for clan Lavellan, he’s a spy for Bethany and their small group of mages. She has at this point lost a lot of trust in stuff like this, and I’m going with she might be working with Fiona at the time. So she ends up staying behind, especially since she’s recognizable as Bethany Hawke, and she’s terrified of seeing her brother again. What if he’s also there? On the side of the templars?

So he goes, cause he’s still tranquil and can blend in. Then the Conclave explodes and he’s no longer tranquil, his clan recognizing the news of him from far off since he’s in such public consciousness, and they try to reach out.

Bethany leaves Fiona when Tevinter comes, along with a small group of mages (hence why they’re not there).

This also ensures a very fun complicated relationship with Varric, cause to my guy, Hawke is evil. And another fun relationship with Cullen, cause it’s still complicated, Cullen was still a templar, and does taking a stand at the very end mean anything? After the years of horrors and bending the knee? Especially since Cullen still doesn’t really trust mages or magic. AND he’d have a weird relationship with the dalish, now distant from it!!!

I’m going insane over all of this right now sorry, I need to draw him.

[whatsanap]

Hawke walking Fenris around Hightown on a leash, Fenris on all fours, with an oversized plug shoved up his hole. Hawke has become too well renown to be questioned. Fenris hates how easy it was to accept Hawke as a new master

[whatsanobsession]

Pro Templar Hawke who grabs Anders by the hair and refers to him as their "pet mage" publicly because whose going to stop them?

[lesetoilesfous]

Sending you a prompt from the Bad Things Happen Bingo! I'd be interested to see what you do with "Defeated and Trophified", for either a negative Handers OR an Evil M!Hawke. Thank you! <3

Oooh thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting @badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Dragon Age 2

Pairing: dark, abusive Handers

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Anders, Alistair Theirin

Tags: post da2, evil Hawke, implied abusive relationship

Rating: Mature

The new viscount of Kirkwall has made changes at the Keep, and indeed in the city in general. No longer are there any mages to be found anywhere, not even in the city-state’s infamous Gallows. Alistair had been struck by how few staves he’d seen anywhere as a result. He realises that he’d just sort of got used to apostates and presumably-legal Circle mages wandering throughout Fereldan. The absence of them here in Kirkwall is, well, stark. But Alistair is a king, and visiting his new trading partner is not the most burdensome of his many, many responsibilities, so he takes a deep breath and tries not to think about Kelton Amell, and climbs the stairs towards the viscount’s personal offices.

A servant who looks pale and frightened and flinches far too easily for Alistair’s comfort dips him a low, low bow and swings the door open on perfectly oiled hinges. Everywhere, the Amell family crest bleeds in red lines beside the emblem of the city of chains. Everything is spotless and silent, and even the air tastes clean, somehow - perfumed with what tastes to Alistair like elfroot and spindleweed. He’s led, with his retainers, into a large room with a long, beautiful dark wooden table. Behind it the Viscount of Kirkwall: muscular, broad, handsome Garrett Hawke, sits in state wearing an iron crown. Behind him, standing demurely with his hands folded and his head lowered, is the apostate who blew up the Chantry.

The first thing Alistair can find to think is that he recognises this man. He remembers gently encouraging Kelton to recruit him, almost a decade ago in Amaranthine. A young, frightened man whose brave face warred with his real horror at what the Templar order wished to do with him.

The second thing Alistair notices is the collar. It’s not ostentatious - of course not, if there’s one thing Alistair has learned from the immaculate Keep and the deathly silent streets, it’s that the man sitting in front of him does not go in for the obvious. But it’s a collar all the same: a thin, beautiful bar of rolled gold which hangs like a necklace around the apostate’s neck, darkened with dozens and dozens of finely engraved runes that makes it look stained black like an antique. Thin gold chains dip below the apostate’s neckline, under the loose, beautiful deep green silk tunic he’s wearing. There are matching, thick gold cuffs wrapped around each of his wrists. Alistair can’t see his feet from where he’s standing, but he doesn’t doubt there are cuffs there too. He swallows his bile, and refocuses his attention.

Hawke doesn’t bother to stand, which is technically a formal insult, but Alistair suspects it won’t be the last thing he tolerates today in the name of preventing open war. Instead he inclines his head, and waves at the frightened servant to pull out a chair. The servant does so, and Alistair thanks them softly, not missing the way Hawke’s mouth turns down in a sneer. The apostate behind the viscount, (the grey warden), says nothing. Alistair can barely believe he’s breathing, for how silent he’s being.

Hawke leans forward. “King Theirin. Such a pleasure to have your company so soon after our...troubles.” Behind Hawke, the apostate flinches, so subtly Alistair can hardly believe he noticed it. But Hawke’s jaw clenches, and the apostate’s already pale skin pales further.

Alistair thinks about facing down a broodmother and sits a little straighter in his chair. “Of course, Viscount. I was sorry to hear the news of your predecessor, and,” Alistair pauses, picking his words as carefully as stepping between landmines, “...confused by Knight-Commander Meredith’s interim occupation.”

Hawke laughs, and again, the apostate flinches. “Yes, well, Stannard always did have delusions of grandeur. But she wasn’t wrong about the mage problem. Worse than a nest of plague-ridden rats in this city and just as rotten. It was poisoning us from the inside out.”

Alistair lets the comment past him, and keeps his features neutral. He’d gotten good at this, as a child, under Isolde’s harassment. He asks, neutrally, as politely as he can, “Is it true, then? That you took part in the annulment personally?”

Again, Hawke laughs. Alistair feels a thorny kind of heat coiling in his chest. Hawke says, “Damned right I did. I was the only one left in the Blighted city with the fucking guts. Got every apostate too - all the criminals and infected children. I lanced the boil that this city had become and I burned out every bit of rot. Except this one,” Hawke gestures to the apostate behind him, then looks back at Alistair with a wide smile of perfect teeth, “But he’s pretty.”

Alistair fantasises about breaking his nose. Instead, he follows Hawke’s gesture to look up at the tall, broad man beside him. He’s older than he was, when Alistair had met him, lines printed across his face in deep crevasses. But he’s clean shaven, and his hair is brushed and soft around his head. Alistair listens to his own racing heartbeat for a moment before he speaks. “I heard he was a Grey Warden.”

Hawke’s eyes narrow, and there’s a flash of something there in the brown and gold of his irises that reminds Alistair terribly of the bird after which his family took its name. Something bloodthirsty, and cruel. “Like you? I told Vael, and the blighted Divine, Anders stays here. He’s mine.”

Alistair raises his hands in surrender and wonders whether Hawke can see that his palms are sweating. “Of course! Wouldn’t dream of separating you. It was only innocent curiosity. Now, I believe you have a Fereldan apostate to deliver to me?”

The blatant threat on Hawke’s face melts into a smirk, and he leans back in his chair. Behind him, Anders, the apostate’s shoulders lower, fractionally. Hawke clicks his fingers at the servant, and a few minutes later there’s the clatter of armour as a pair of templars bring in a wounded, starved looking elvhen girl.

Alistair thinks hard about exactly how much worse war would be for all his people and truly, deeply hates being king. Hawke gets up, circling the table to lift the girl’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. She glares at him, and Alistair hates that he’s heartened by this remaining spirit.

But then Hawke looks at the apostate in the corner and lifts his hand. The gold ring on his wedding finger, similarly blackened with runes, burns red, and Anders flinches as the jewellery on his wrists and neck glow, too. All Hawke says is, “Anders.”

The apostate moves faster than Alistair thinks he could have followed even if he were prepared for it. His hand flicks, and a silent bolt of lightning crosses the space of Hawke’s private quarters and connects with the girl’s skull. Her body slumps almost immediately, shuddering in a death rattle that is all too familiar to Alistair. He makes an effort to close his open mouth, and for the first time gives up the poker face.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Hawke smiles at him, close lipped and shrewd. “A lesson, your majesty. We won’t tolerate apostates in Kirkwall. Try to keep them on your side of the ocean.”

Alistair looks up at the apostate, Anders, but his hands are already folded in front of him again, his head bowed. Alistair swallows past the dryness of his mouth and the thick lump in his throat, and gets to his feet with an agonisingly loud screech of the wooden chair legs on stone.”Well, Viscount. It’s certainly been...educational.”

Alistair turns and tries not to imagine the entire darkspawn horde at his heels. Hawke doesn’t stand, and his pet apostate doesn’t move. But when Alistair gets to the door, Hawke speaks again. “Come back any time, your majesty. Anders can do wonderful things with his hands.”

Alistair doesn’t turn around. The doors swing shut behind them, and both the Keep’s guards and two servants usher them forward. But Alistair hesitates, listening for a moment.

Through the wooden doors, there’s a crack of skin on skin, and a soft cry of pain. Softly, deadly, Alistair hears the Viscount whisper, “Killed her quickly, didn’t you? Any suffering you spared her I’ll deal you, later.”

Alistair doesn’t realised he’s curled his fingers into a fist until one of his guard’s touches his forearm, her eyes wide with either fear or concern. Slowly, Alistair uncurls his hand, listening to the crunch of metal, and follows the soldiers and servants out of the Keep. He makes a mental note to write Zevran, later.

There’s a warden in need, and a state leader in desperate want of assassination.

[whatsanobsession]

Danarius piercing Fenris' ears and attaching delicate gold chains to them, which link perfectly into Danarius' cock ring. At 4" Fenris couldn't pull away even in Danarius told him to, an inch always on his tongue. When Hawke sees them, they start gifting Fenris studs, which Fenris doesn't realize are stretchers at first. Hawke loves sticking something in the holes and directing Fenris by them.

[whatsanap]

The Hurt Brings Us Closer

Hawke is tired of his companions fighting one another. They like control, they like to be in charge, and Fenris and Anders make them look like a fool. So they sick the pair on one another, show how much control they can put upon them at once, sexually. It fractures them, makes Fenris regress back to the mind of a slave and makes Anders a shell of himself. But they can find one another through this, put their broken pieces together, and try to make something new.

“That I am. You could have been one of them, if that brain worked as well as your cunt. Now then, I should remind you both of the lesson I just taught you, but at least Anders is being as subservient as he’s meant to be. And no arguing between you! That part seems to have worked a charm. If only Fenris had learned from his masters.”

Justice burned in Anders’ skin, trying to push out of him, trying to crack him. He had to suck him back in through his teeth. He needed to stay calm through all this. “Leave him alone.”

“Fenris,” Hawke said, turning away from Anders and rolling their shoulder, making sure everything worked as it should. “You’re meant to be an obedient little wolf. Show me that what I taught you stuck. Get on your knees.”

“What?” Fenris snarled, forcing it through his still body.

“You heard me, on your knees,” Hawke repeated it with a smile, “hands by your sides. I want to test your training.”

“You can’t do this,” Anders hissed, “We’re not arguing, we’re not damaging your precious reputation, you don’t need to do this!”

[whatsanobsession]

in so tired, please imagine Hawke beating the shit out of Anders as entertainment for their Templar pals