- poodoo: imagine if he got a mage hawke pregnant.
- poodoo: that poor kid would be so utterly fucked up
- mel: hahahahaha
- poodoo: probably deformed due to lyriumsperm and then emotionally scarred from a father who is either absent or resents his/her kind
- mel: She'd become a stripper.
- poodoo: glowing lyrium jizz does not a healthy fetus develop
- leggy: and also slowy going insane throughout its childhood
- rinji: he probably is infertile
- leggy: yeah probably
- leggy: dude is laced with mercury
- poodoo: can love interests being infertile be a rule
- mel: I WISH
- rinji: ikr
- shorts: psdo draw arts of this brat visiting grandpa danarius, sittng on his lap
- poodoo: and danarius has an erection
- shorts: when doesnt danarius has an erection
- Neaira: i was going to say when he's dead, but you know that's a lie
- leggy: ahahahhahahhahaahahha
- shorts: thedas lore establishes death boners
- shorts: its canon
- shorts: or you can art him punching a hole in the kid's chest when she refuses to clean her room
- leggy: abusive father fenris would be one of our more disturbing running gags, lol
TheLadyJess asked for, Fenris/F!Hawke friendmance something right after Leandra dies…
The shattered glass of an empty wine bottle littered the rug by Marian’s bed. Everything within her room had been of her mother’s choosing. Pretense and position mattered little to Marian, but to her mother… Just the day before they’d fought of the rug.
It’s a frivolous purchase. The nobles of the Free Marches are hardly prancing around in my bedroom, mother.
Leandra won that argument by default. Marian left with excuses of more important business upon her lips. The next time she saw her mother…
No regrets had been Marian’s mantra. She tried to never look back and only look forward, but as she stared down at the rug beneath her feet, the feeling she’d long avoided with a witty quip or purposeful forgetfulness suffocated her.
She hardly heard Fenris when he entered, his bare feet padding lightly against the same carpet she could seem to look away from.
Others had come to see her, heartfelt condolences offered, comforting hugs offered. None came from Fenris and for that Marian was grateful. They sat in silence for some time, close but never touching. For some that would not have been enough, might even have felt awkward. For Marian, however, it was enough. He came and that said more than any words could have.
Fenris stayed with her the whole evening, listening to her when she did elect to speak of those regrets she could no longer deny, no longer keep hidden away within the shadow of purposeful avoidance. Not once did he tell her everything would be alright. Not once did he fill her ears with well-intentioned lies. But when she awoke the next day and looked down to the ground, the rug was no longer there.