#robynhode

[ofthewhitehands]

@robynhode continued from here...

 A hand had moved to hold her skirts well around her knees as the other held fast against his hands, each groove and callus telling it’s own story against her sheltered one. 

 The expedition throughout the keep was one of utter silence, altered paths, and avoidance of other occupants. But in the safe space, tucked away from everything,she could not stop the rise of her heels to elevate her height to  meet his lips.

What was honor when compared with a kiss?  No preassigned moment could hold a candle to the spontaneity of the  shared moment. A kiss, a kiss, it was all she could give him, no more, no less.

But in such a gentle touch resounded more than anything else that she might have possessed.

                      She was his as he was hers.

She wondered if the old gods had eyes to see in this place. If not, did the ghosts of the bones in crypts far beneath- kept dormant by the iron swords and bangles that held them fast in their deadly sleep sputter and wake at such a tender moment.

                                There was no honor in  it. Just broken oaths and an untimely end.

                                                                    honor be damned,

                   “ I thought you were dead.”

[iinmortales-archive]

       damn that knight. honestly, who goes running off after a bandit in the middle of training? she’d been trying to find him for two hours now. and despite the fact that she was always telling him to stop following her, she’d never hear the end of it if she was go show up at the castle without him with her. more trouble than he was worth. and it wasn’t until two hours in that she finally saw someone, and all she could do was hope this man wasn’t one of the bandits link had been chasing.

       ‘ have you seen a knight run through here? ‘

@robynhode

[eritvita]

like’d from x ;

@robynhode

In the beginning of Spring, whence Grandfather Winter’s cold hand hath settled into fretful bones and Roland takes to folding flowers to create new shapes, adornments, and fresh perfumes, he sighs from his branch’d seat, and swings his shoe-less foot aimlessly, contented to his Seat.

He takes the daisy in his fingertips and asks it to Change, forthrite, into tetrahedrons and triangles and perfect spheres, all with its yellows and off-white colors, the sacred Bud of its pollinated center. He births new species and rectifies genus, and allows them to drop in transformed heads to the undergrowth beneath, and from there give seed. Thus is his daily activity, and Today is the highest sanctity, verily.

[blackdamed-blog]

don’t worry, i’m not a criminal! (you can choose who this is for, i couldn't narrow it down XD )

singin’ in the rain / accepting!

who says such drabble and expects one to not believe that they are such??? this one, apparently. hamsa turned up a slightly curious and annoyed eyebrow before glancing up at the darkening sky. she didn’t have much time for this, the jarl wanted this mission done in a timely manner. it would be a pain in the ass to hear his mouth again, plus the court mage rubbing in her face that she was late at yet another task. they just didn’t understand all of the troubles that came on the road – like this person! “ you say that, but it only makes me question your character even more. what if i didn’t think you were a criminal??? now that you’ve said that, it makes me wonder if you are! ” she rambled on, letting her temper get the best of her for a brief moment. a small thing that she was at only 5′1, it didn’t leave much room for patience or attempting to understand the other’s side of things. so, she scolded him. at any rate, hamsa didn’t much care if he was a criminal or not. she just wanted to get a move on.

[iinmortales-archive]

            ‘ alright. alright! ‘ she struggled against the man holding her wrist, fire in her eyes. she wasn’t a woman who enjoyed being caught, nor was she one that would go down without a fight. even as she was confirming the fact that she had been captured she was still struggling. she’d gotten a couple good hits in, too. ‘ you’ve got me. now let. me. go. ‘

@robynhode

[loyalservants]

“Sorry didn’t feel like letting you die today, maybe tomorrow” - for Bonnie

( Frenemies & Rivals | @robynhode )

                                 ANNE wiped the  BLOOD  off her face as she laid her back against the trunk of the tree. Gone were those whom called her foe and she was with Robin now, several metres away from trouble. Maybe.   ❝ I didn’t need yer help, I had it, ❞   she spat, forcing herself onto her feet after sheathing her cutlass.

[loyalservants]

rohan - favourite character? gondor - least favourite character?

( Middle-Earth Asks | @robynhode )

Rohan - favourite character?

Gondor - least favourite character?

[rumdaydreams]

Hook, it should come as no surprise, is not terribly skilled with a bow and arrow. Indeed, the weapon was ill-suited for a man of his trade. Where his hook was a useful tool when sailing, it proved troublesome in pursuit of archery. 

There wasn’t much that oceanic vagrants like himself didn’t catch wind of---with eyes and ears at early every port and contacts extending far inland, Hook knew the world’s business and in turn the world knew exactly as much of Hook’s business as he deemed appropriate. 

For those journeymen locked to land, sealegs proved a  daunting foe. For Hook--- whose life he’s spent aboard Hulks and cogs, and once, when he was still a lad and his pa was still about, a great viking knarr---there was, what he liked to call, the issue of landlegs. That is, the strange experience of feeling something solid and unmoving beneath his feet. 

Hook pressed inward, deeper into Sherwood Forest---he was here on business, after all---and tried to ignore the sickness in his gut that grew in strength whenever he lost sight of the ocean. His silver hook gleamed, his best red vest was pressed and clean, his long black cloak had little dirt save for the dust from the woodland path. Hook would have preferred his salty tunic and work breeches, but he was assured that he would find this archer if he dressed himself as noble as he could and so he did, taking ever most care to jingle the bag of coin in his pocket whenever possible.

@robynhode​ hit the  ♥