quill and ink well

anonymous asked:

I have a prompt for u...hogwarts klance plus room of requirement shenanigans

Hogwarts AU

Lance rolled over, sighing as he parted his bed curtain to blink at the moonlight that streamed in through the window. He laid back, clasping his hands over his stomach. After a few agonizing moments passed and he wasn’t already asleep, Lance sat up, reaching for the blank piece of parchment that sat on his bedside table. He fumbled around for his wand and a quill, nearly knocking over his ink well in the process. After drawing the crimson velvet closed around him, Lance held his quill in one hand and his wand in the other, whispering, “Lumos.”

In the light shed from the tip of his wand, he wrote at the top of the parchment: You awake?

He bit his lip. The paper was his latest (and only) purchase from Scribbulus’ in Diagon Alley— an enchanted pair of parchment leaves that mirrored whatever was written on the other, and eventually wiped itself clean. The kind of thing that would get you expelled on a Charms test, but was perfect for passing notes across the Castle; in Lance’s case, to the Slytherin dungeon. He just wondered if Keith had forgotten about it, or shoved it into a drawer or-

A messy scrawl appeared: Yeah. 

  Wanna meet?

     Where?

        The usual?

           See you there.

A smile pulled across Lance’s face as he carefully put the parchment away and slid out of bed. He clumsily changed out of his pajamas in the dark and tiptoed with his shoes out into the Common Room. As the Fat Lady swung open he winced at her creaking, although more afraid of running into Shiro or Allura on patrol than waking the portrait. 

Keep reading

St. Valentine’s Honour.

A micro-fic (under 400 words) that popped into my head surrounding Jamie’s interpretation of Valentine’s Day. I know it’s about 6 weeks too early but I wanted to write it and post it now! Happy New Year everyone! xx

Jamie dipped the quill into the ink well and pulled it out again, watching the excess drops fall back into the bottle. He bit his lower lip and contemplated what he wanted to say in the letter.

The celebration of St Valentine was something Roger had assured him women of Claire’s time took most seriously. She had never mentioned it to him, but then he had seen the lass ride into the midst of a battle camp, half starved and half mad with worry and yet not say a word about it.

Jamie snorted and moved the tip of the quill to hover above the parchment

My dearest stoic wife…

No, that sounded like he was teasing her.

My dearest Claire ….

No, that was too formal.

Jamie laid the quill down and stood, pacing to the window, the fingers of his left hand drumming against the muscle of his thigh. He could see Claire in the garden, her hair being pulled gently this way and that by the breeze and the cotton neckerchief she wore against the February chill fluttered beside her ear, as if she were a flower and it was a fat blue hummingbird intent on gathering the very last drop of her sweet nectar.

Jamie cleared his throat and dropped his chin to his chest, blushing despite his blood rushing in the opposite direction of his face.

He had once punched his uncle and burnt his Grandsire’s wooden teeth for the insult of calling Claire ‘Mistress Honey-lips’ and even near thirty years on, he considered his action to be right but there was something about his Sassenach that made men forget themselves and become something more akin to a beast.

Jamie drew the thick curtain closed and return to his desk, now draped in shadow.

My study. Now, if you please.

It was a frivolous use of parchment but Jamie grinned to himself as he strode toward the door.

“Jem?”

He called, handing the little chap the note and a penny with it.

“Deliver this note to ye Grannie please, she’s in her wee herb garden. Then go and feed the chickens.”

Jamie waited until he heard Jem happily calling out to Claire and then removed his cravat and untucked his shirt, loosening the stays of his breeks. It would take Jem perhaps fifteen minutes to feed the chooks, enough time to honour both his wife and the demands of St. Valentine’s honour – God bless the ancient man’s soul!

4

Secret Project 1 of 2!

I’ve always wanted to do an item page. I’ve seen them all over and I think they’re awesome. This also let me practice digital painting and colored outlines. Here are the items on the page and what games they connect to:

The bullet that hit Ezio (Brotherhood), Haytham’s Amulet (3), Templar Ring (1, 3, Rogue), Doubloon (Black Flag), Bottles and vials (Plague Doctors/Leonardo from 2), Rope Dart (3 and Rogue), a Cockade ribbon (Unity), rabbit’s foot (3, Rogue, Black Flag), Ezio’s Carnival Mask (2), Templar Cross (Forsaken, Rogue, Unity), letter for Elise’s father (Unity), quill and ink well (3 and Forsaken), brown feather (2 and 3), a key (misc.), and The Apple of Eden (all).

I tried to include most of the games and touch on important objects that hold really special messages.

Send Me Asks: Dungeons and Dragons Edition

Ancient Dragon: What’s your favorite monsters to encounter or use as a DM?
Spellbook: What’s your favorite edition?
Wooden Sword: What was the first system/edition you started playing and when did you start playing?
Spell Scroll: What’s your favorite spell?
Staff of the Magi: What’s your favorite wondrous item?
Wax Sealed Letter: What’s your favorite pre-written adventure you’ve ran or played in?
Statuette: What’s the race, class, and gender of your favorite tabletop rpg character?
Gravestone: Most memorable character death at your table?
Quill & Ink Well: What’s your favorite class to play?
Carriage: What’s the highest level your party has ever reached in a game?
Signet Ring: What’s your favorite race to play?
Sword & Shield: If given the choice to do either, would you rather play or DM?

This is Nindarhmen post-trespasser, as he was as he left Skyhold

  • he wants to grow his hair back so no more cutting it
  • his Andraste staff was modified by Harritt like he asked him to
  • he wears his leather coat but got rid of the Inquisition pauldrons, gauntlets and plastron
  • he made his necklace into a brooch
  • and of course he wears the sending crystal Dorian gave him
  • if you look in his bag you’ll find his journal and (far too) many loose sheets, a quill and some ink as well as a charcoal pencil, a little knife, a vial of lyrium, a little pouch filled with elfroot, another one filled with little coloured stones, harp strings, and a map of Thedas
Just another day (RP~)

Hopeless was sitting under a tree, a journal lying open with an ink well and quill sitting next to it. She lets out a deep sigh, nothing coming into mind. Inspiration just void in her mind. /Come on Hope. There’s gotta be something in that love sick head of yours./ The young mare giggles a bit at her little comment and just leans back against the tree, sighing once more as she stares at the beautiful blue sky.

A small smile forms on her lips as she closes her eyes, feeling the cool breeze run through her mane, and against her fur. “Why can’t everyday be like this?” The young mare mumbled as she just leaves herself to mother nature mercy.