shoveyourplight

[shoveyourplight]

》first round of midterms coming up. will be busy this weekend and next week.《

[shoveyourplight]

》first round of midterms coming up. will be busy this weekend and next week.《

[shoveyourplight]

[shoveyourplight]

short cuts as of now:

ctrl + b = bold ctrl + i = italics shift + ctrl + - = small font ctrl + , = sub ctrl + . = sup

[shoveyourplight]

ships where they banter constantly (◡‿◡✿)

ships where they playfully sass the other (◕‿◕✿)

ships where  they see each other as they truly are and tease each other  (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

SHIPS  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧

[shoveyourplight]

Send me ⊙ for a 6 song soundtrack to describe our muses together.

[shoveyourplight]

☽ - a memory of their father

The thunderstorm relentlessly poured across the lands; its lightning produced the only source of light at this odd hour of evening. Leandra paced before the fireplace, biting his lower lips anxiously. Her husband and her two children, both whom are mages, have been missing for three hours. Malcolm had informed the family that after an hour has gone by after the point where he said he would return, they should move on without him as the likelihood is he was captured by Templars. For Carver, and his mother, it is safe to assume that these three were captured.

Carver has not moved from his place from the window. He stares off into the distance, hoping to see three shadowy figures coming from the treeline. For three, long hours, he did not see even one. He hears his mother start to cry from behind him, whispering a prayer to Andraste to keep her love and children safe. Her begging sounded as if she had given up on them and were left in the hands of the Maker. He clenches his fists and without a word, darts to the door.

Leandra's voice cries out but goes unheard from a loud, rumbling thunder. Carver runs against the forceful rain in the direction he saw his father, brother and sister depart.

The journey felt as if hours had gone by; however, he had been only twenty minutes away from his home. At the two mile mark, he hears voices. He skids to a stop and leaps into bushes, carefully making his way through the shrubbery to the source. From in between branches and leaves, he spots five figures in the distance. Three of them were on their knees, and the two were left standing. He falls silent, focusing on their voices solely and tuning out the rain and thunder.

"How long does it take to piss?"

"He's probably doin' somethin' else. Lettin' th' rain wash it away."

"Ew."

Carver's eyes widened when he heard the familiar voice of his brother.

"Aw shut yer boy's trap."

"He's got a mind of his own, there's nothing I can do about that."

Father's voice.

"Father, I'm cold and hungry, I want to go home--"

Bethany's.

"Yer not gunna go home! Yer gunna go to th' circle!" The Templar raises his hand to strike Bethany, Carver sits up slightly, ready to intervene.

"Lay a hand on my daughter and I will make you regret it."

Malcolm's intervention brought the Templar to step back from Bethany. The two Templars seem to fear Malcolm a great deal, or that is what Carver gathered from this point. He searches at his side and quickly spots a rock. He quickly tosses it out, doing his best not to make much noise as he does; the rock flies overhead of the group and lands into bushes behind the Templar.

"Whut was that?"

"You do something, mage?"

"Sorry, I am not friends with the forest critters."

The two Templars turn towards the bush that had rustled a moment before and cross into it, they search with their swords of what had created the movement.

Carver sprints from his position, unsheathing his knife and squats behind Bethany. He quietly gestures her to remain silent before cutting her ropes. Malcolm keeps a close eye on the Templars and Carver, assuring that he gets to his siblings before him. Carver cuts Neil's and then finally his father's.

"Go, now. Whatever you hear, whatever you see, don't stop running."

Carver nods his head and grabs Bethany's and Neil's hands, tugging them with him as he sprints, as he knows these two would question Malcolm. Bethany inquires regardless of where her position is, asking Neil what father is going to do and if father will return with them. Neither brother could answer her question truthfully.

One Templar looks over his shoulder and see Malcolm forlorn and on his feet. "Where did yer kids go!?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Mages like to eat their children."

As the Hawke children run, there's an explosion. Bethany tugs back, wanting to see what happened, but Carver's force doesn't allow her to. He doesn't want to see, or hear what his father did to those Templars. Neil and him could assume that all three Templars were dead--the question remains, is father. 

None of the children looked back, thus they couldn't tell what that intimidating force was that pushed them forward. The three children are lifted from the air and pushed five feet ahead; they hit the ground hard, rolling until there was no force left to continue the roll. 

"Everyone all right?" Neil is the first to ask.

"My knee hurts," Bethany whimpers.

"I'm all right," Carver finally says.

"Ripped my trousers, nothing your mother can't fix, though."

Malcolm's voice had been music to the children's ears. All three sprung to their feet and threw themselves at their father. Malcolm's big arms captured them and heaved the three up against his chest. "You all were very brave. I'm very proud of you. Especially, you Carver." Only Malcolm could see the big smile and teary eyes that happened to upon Carver's face.

"What did you do, father?" Bethany asks, her cheek squishes against her father's chest.

"I made sure those Templars would have a hard time finding their way back to the Circle. Considering, I threw them all the way into the Wilds."

"The Wilds?!" Carver exclaims.

"The Witch will eat them! Gobble them right up!" Neil kicks his legs excitedly.

"I don't like witches, father."

"Ha ha, neither do I, Bethany. Let us hope your mother won't turn into one when we get home." 

[shoveyourplight]

Scribble of the day: Carver Hawke.

(I promise, I’ll learn how to draw Carver eventually. I’ll then make so much cute fanart of him and the rest of the Hawkes.)

[shoveyourplight]

[shoveyourplight]

……

[shoveyourplight]

I will try not to hug him too hard

[shoveyourplight]

[shoveyourplight]

[shoveyourplight]

[shoveyourplight]

Hawkes.

[shoveyourplight]

you may be a huge asshole, but you’re MY huge asshole.

[shoveyourplight]

This is their relationship, basically.