kingly things

Pink?!?! {{Thranduil x Reader}}

Request by anon: You should do a one-shot for Thranduil where you prank him by adding pink color to his shampoo. Before he gets the chance to yell at you, you jump on him and kiss him by surprise. You then giggle and skip away leaving him breathless. 😋

Author’s note: sorry it took so long to post. Its been a looooooong week. Anywho hope you like it!!!

Word Count: 872

————–

You had been best friends with Thranduil ever since the two of you were kids. You two had been through everything together. He knew you well and how much of a trickster you were. You pulled pranks 24/7 so it wasn’t hard to guess who put the dye in his shampoo. He threw a towel over his head and stormed off to your bedroom. When he got there he threw the door open and glared at you.

“Hello, how are you today?”

“Fine fine. You know fittings, paperwork, treaties, inspecting the armies, and other kingly things… Oh and,” he ripped the towel off his head,“ MY HAIR HAS BEEN TURNED PINK!!”

“Oh goodness me! Isn’t that a shame,” you said and held in a laugh.

“Don’t you play all innocent with me! I know you did this.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

He glared at you and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He growled as you fell to the ground laughing.

“This is not funny!!!! How am I supposed to rule a kingdom with pink hair?!?!”

“We could braid it.”

“Your not funny.”

“Yes I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed,“ I have a very important meeting with the Lord of Rivendell tonight and how do you expect me to do that with my hair like this?”

“You could always just cut off all your hair.” You giggled.

He looked at you like you just insulted his great ancestors. You stood up and brushed off your knees. You could tell he was getting irritated. You loved pushing his buttons so you smirked and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Ooooor we could throw a dress on you and get you a tiara and call you Princess Thranduil,” you twirled his hair in your fingers and gave him a cheeky grin.

He clenched his fists and kept his mouth shut so he wouldn’t yell at you. You smiled and walked to your closet and got two dresses out. You held them in front of him to see which would look better.

“let’s seeeee…. Yellow or Green….” You decided on the green and threw it ontop of him. Then you walked off and grabbed a flower crown. You noticed he was now holding the dress and had his mouth clenched shut. You skipped up to him and set the flower crown on his head.

“Awwwwwwwwww look at the pwetty pwincess,” you said as if you were talking to a baby.

Most elves would be terrified at this point or to scared to do this in general. Not you though. You stood there smirking at the Elven King.

“Stop it…. Now!”

“Nope!”

His face was red with anger. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He opened his mouth to yell at you. You saw this and cut him off before he could yell at you. You smashed your lips to his and wrapped your arms around his neck.

His eyes went wide. He stood still like a statue, not knowing how to react. You stepped back and smiled before skipping off happily. Leaving him to stand there awestruck.


Extended ending:

{{6 years later}}

It had been a long day an Thranduil just wanted to relax. His wife was with his 4 year old son so he didn’t have to worry about that. He decided the best thing to do would be taking a bath. He went to the bathroom and turned on the water. When the tub was full, he disrobed and slipped into the bath, letting out a contempt sigh. He layed back and closed his eyes.

The door opened and closed and he looked to see who it was. You walked to the tub and smiled,“ comfy?”

He nodded and closed his eyes again. You smiled and pulled up a stool and sat down before grabbing some shampoo and putting it in his hair. He let out a contempt sigh and you washed the shampoo out before putting conditioner in it.

After rinsing it out you kissed his forehead,“ I’m going to go put Legolas to bed, I’ll see you later.”

You got up and left the room, smirking to yourself. You went to your son’s bedroom and he looked up at you,“ Naneth!”

He raised his arms up to be picked up. You smiled and picked him up before nuzzling him. You set him on the bed and tucked him in. He yawned and curled up in his bed. You kissed his forehead and smiled.

“Naneth?”

“Yes?”

“Where is Ada?”

“He’s a little busy right now.”

“Doing what.”

“Oh…. Nothing in paticular…. Just preparing to yell at me in 3….. 2….. 1.”

“I SWEAR ON MY LIFE _____ I WILL DISOWN YOU SO QUICKLY FOR TURNING MY HAIR PINK AGAIN!!!!!!”

“Ah there it is.”

anonymous asked:

Can you please, please, please do 83 and rowaelin (no shame). Love your blog btw 💛

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.” - Rowaelin 

Pregnant, with twins, twins, Rowan’s mate was sitting on her throne, cross-legged and irritable. His Fireheart hasn’t been able to wear her tunics and pants for well over two months and was stuck in empire-waisted gowns.

Standing at Aelin’s side, Rowan watched as his fireheart played with a weave of fire to blow of steam. He knew this pregnancy was hard on her and wished he could do something about it.

To make matters worse, Dorian and Chaol had come visit. Not for any real reason, just to talk about books with Aelin.

Getting up off the throne, Aelin announced, “I am going to the kitchen. And if you follow me I will pluck you Rowan Whitethorn Galathenius.”

Chaol raised his eyebrows and looked at Dorian who was trying not to laugh.

Rowan growled but said, “I could go for you, you know. You about to give birth, Aelin.”

Growling at him, Aelin said, “Really? Is that so. And here I thought I was getting fat.”

At the door that he was standing guard, Fenrys stiffened. The heat in the room was rising.

Rowan raised his brows. Aelin sighed, lowering the temperature, “I want chocolate and I can damn well go get it myself. I am capable you know. Being pregnant does not make me an invalid.”

Slowly, choosing his words carefully, Rowan said, “I know that. Take Fenrys with you, he could use a walk.” 

“If it will make his majesty feel better, I shall take wolf-boy with me. Maybe we’ll go out to the gardens and play fetch.” Aelin said, winking at Fenrys, who glared at her.

Opening his mouth, Aelin interrupted, “No, I’m not winnowing to the kitchen. Its right down the corridor for crying out loud. Stay here and talk about kingly things with Dorian.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin stalked off down the hall with Fenrys right behind her. Rowan fought ever urge to follow his pregnant mate. His mind quickly flashed to Lyria.

“Rowan,” Dorian said, feeling the temperature drop significantly, “It’s going to be okay. She’ll be right back. Aelin is anything but defenseless.”

Not feeling any better, Rowan asked Dorian, “How is Manon? Have your Hand and she gotten along any better?”

Dorian winced, “Er, not really. But the number of times she’s threatened to skewer him as lowered, so there’s that.”

Chaol glared at Dorian.

Before Rowan could respond he smelled something sweet, followed by, “ROWAN, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW.”

In a blind panic, Rowan shouted back and ran, “Stay there, I’m coming to get you.” 

Leaving Dorian and Chaol, Rowan ran down the hall. His mate’s water just broke and he wasn’t there.


Again, if you want me to continue this let me know :)

Late in the Library

Knowing how dedicated Hiccup is to his cause and his role as King, I can completely imagine him staying up incredibly late in the castle’s constantly expanding library (which, as Grimbeard’s castle was being repaired, Hiccup created and stocked himself) working on rough drafts for laws, peace treaties, and other kingly things.

Some nights it’ll be around 2:00 in the morning, and Fishlegs will return from one of his late night practices with the other bards and spot a light shining down at the end of one of the renovated castle hallways, and he’ll silently peek in and see the torch still burning on the wall, illuminating the piles and piles of papers scattered about, evidence of Hiccup’s hard work over the past couple of years as King of the Wilderwest.

And on the wooden table by the torch, he usually finds Hiccup fast asleep, his head using a stack of papers as a pillow, blots of ink unknowingly smeared across his cheek and forehead, and left hand still poised with his writing charcoal over a sheet of wrinkled paper.

A Rowaelin Pregnancy

Authors note: This is a condensed version and contains ALL parts


Pregnant, with twins, twins, Rowan’s mate was sitting on her throne, cross-legged and irritable. His Fireheart hasn’t been able to wear her tunics and pants for well over two months and was stuck in empire-waisted gowns.

Standing at Aelin’s side, Rowan watched as his fireheart played with a weave of fire to blow of steam. He knew this pregnancy was hard on her and wished he could do something about it.

To make matters worse, Dorian and Chaol had come visit. Not for any real reason, just to talk about books with Aelin.

Getting up off the throne, Aelin announced, “I am going to the kitchen. And if you follow me I will pluck you Rowan Whitethorn Galathenius.”

Chaol raised his eyebrows and looked at Dorian who was trying not to laugh.

Rowan growled but said, “I could go for you, you know. You about to give birth, Aelin.”

Growling at him, Aelin said, “Really? Is that so. And here I thought I was gettingfat.”

At the door that he was standing guard, Fenrys stiffened. The heat in the room was rising.

Rowan raised his brows. Aelin sighed, lowering the temperature, “I want chocolate and I can damn well go get it myself. I am capable you know. Being pregnant does not make me an invalid.”

Slowly, choosing his words carefully, Rowan said, “I know that. Take Fenrys with you, he could use a walk.”

“If it will make his majesty feel better, I shall take wolf-boy with me. Maybe we’ll go out to the gardens and play fetch.” Aelin said, winking at Fenrys, who glared at her.

Opening his mouth, Aelin interrupted, “No, I’m not winnowing to the kitchen. Its right down the corridor for crying out loud. Stay here and talk about kingly things with Dorian.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin stalked off down the hall with Fenrys right behind her. Rowan fought ever urge to follow his pregnant mate. His mind quickly flashed to Lyria.

“Rowan,” Dorian said, feeling the temperature drop significantly, “It’s going to be okay. She’ll be right back. Aelin is anything but defenseless.”

Not feeling any better, Rowan asked Dorian, “How is Manon? Have your Hand and she gotten along any better?”

Dorian winced, “Er, not really. But the number of times she’s threatened to skewer him as lowered, so there’s that.”

Chaol glared at Dorian.

Before Rowan could respond he smelled something sweet, followed by, “ROWAN, GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW.”

In a blind panic, Rowan shouted back and ran, “Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Leaving Dorian and Chaol, Rowan ran down the hall. His mate’s water just broke and he wasn’t there.

Keep reading

Headcanons

Headcanon One: that sometimes Merlin goes to where Arthur is sleeping and talks about all the shit that has happened and says “so will you come back now?” Things that have made Merlin ask if Arthur is coming back: Industrialization (because he is an itty bitty country boy), Freak Weather, Witch Burnings in the 1600s, Major Wars (he cried his eyes out during the World Wars), Major Economic Depressions, and every year on his birthday and new years because he’s tired of living alone

Headcanon Two: Merlin doesn’t remember what Arthur and Gwen and Gaius actually look like anymore. Just a vague idea, and he cries everytime he tries to draw them because he KNOWS there’s something missing to their appearence, just not WHAT is missing.

Headcanon Three: To Arthur, he never died. Whilst in his slumber, he is living life as normal although sometimes when he’s doing normal Pratly Kingly things (according to Merlin, the idiot)… he hears Merlin asking him to come back? So he tries his hardest to find the soure of the voice but something is always holding him back from finding it.

(submitted by @iamhalf-vulcan )

Imagine you are meeting Thranduil in the palace halls where he is showing important guests around. Now imagine you are approaching him as if you had a very important message. You tiptoe, lean forward to whisper in his ear how you are going to have him once he’s done with the kingly things. You take your leave without turning back. You only hear how he’s tripping over the hem of his coat as he tries to continue the sightseeing.

anonymous asked:

I'm writing a book which involves a royal family from the middle ages. The king has four children (3 boys and a girl). I want the second youngest (who is a boy) to inherit the throne and triumph over his elder siblings, but I'm not sure if that's factually possible. Is there any way a younger sibling could inherit a crown?

Well, your first example as to whether or not that is factual, is the current Queen of England. Her father was the second son, but was crowned because his older brother Edward gave it up. Edward was in love with an American woman, but could not lawfully inherit the throne if he married a twice-divorced woman with no title (he proposed while she was still married to her second husband), so he seceded the throne to his younger brother in order to marry her. However, that was the 40s and not the middle ages. Rules also differ per country, so the answer to your question depends largely on whether or not your country is real or invented. Either way, research the culture your world is based on.

Other “historically accurate”* options include:

  • Primary Heir dies, is on their deathbed, or is missing. These scenarios may have been caused by murder, an accident, disease, shipwreck, or a distant battle. 
  • PH is deformed, sickly, mentally handicapped, or otherwise incompetent (research what counted as “deformed” and “handicapped” in the middle ages). 
  • PH has unpopular religious views (do NOT underestimate the influence of religion in a Medieval monarchy).
  • PH has unpopular political views or is controlled by an official with unpopular views.
  • The former sovereign or the high priest chose someone else. Depending on the laws of the land the sovereign’s choice may be called into question, and the priest can either say “God chooses the younger kid” or “I choose the younger kid” depending on how powerful the high priest is.
  • PH is exiled because they offended the previous sovereign who may not necessarily have been their parent, but could be an heirless uncle/aunt.
  • PH ran away to another country to avoid a scandal or death at the hand of those loyal to the secondary heir.
  • PH is forcefully removed or bullied from the throne because the younger son or the younger son’s allies are more aggressive.
  • A rival kingdom has control over or thinks they’ll receive favors if the secondary heir is crowned, so they support them either with military forces or use espionage to slander and/or blackmail the PH into seceding the throne.
  • The secondary heir is married into a powerful family (or rival kingdom) who wants the throne and will do anything to get it.
  • PH is crap at “kingly” things like horseback riding and swordfighting, so let’s go for the more skilled younger son (you can substitute skills that matter in your fictional country).
  • A trusted prophet says some misfortune will befall everyone if the PH gets the throne. Occult practices are involved and the PH mysteriously gets sick and dies.
  • There’s a peasant uprising that requires the PH be replaced just to temporarily appease the masses, who ignorantly believe the younger brother must be better than the previous heir.

*Depends who wrote the history, and whether or not I made a couple up by misremembering.

honestly though think of bard in his tattered and threadbare fish-smelling clothes doing kingly things with the elven kind of mirkwood thranduil, who has lived thousands of thousands of years and is super pristine and regal and it’s this smelly humie that killed the dragon and wants in on the treasure

like

bard you cannot be more perfect

anonymous asked:

15 Queen Warden / King Alistair

This gets a little bit of a Sexual Themes warning, I suppose - though it’s so mild I can’t imagine someone getting offended.

15 - A Goodnight Kiss


“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep already.”

Myra smiled sleepily as she felt him slip into bed beside her, enjoying the familiar feel of him as he pressed himself to her back, cupping her body with his own. She stifled a yawn as he kissed her shoulder, his hand dipping down to her waist.

“I’m tired,” she said, eyes still closed. “My journey was a pretty long one, if you recall.”

“But you just got back,” he murmured, his lips lingering on her neck. “I was hoping we could…” he hummed out a low laugh, his hand sliding lower on her stomach, pressing her hips back against him, “you know.”

She chuckled, turning her head to peer over her shoulder. “Well maybe if you had come to bed earlier, I could have accommodated you.”

“No fair,” he objected, though his tone matched his grin. “I had things to do. Kingly things. Very important.”

“And by very important you mean you couldn’t get Eamon to shut up?”

"Can I ever? That man will go to the grave and continue to feel the need to lecture me.” She felt him pull away from her, his hand moving to her shoulder, rolling her onto her back. She went willingly, catching his lips as he brought them to hers. A sweet kiss. One she had so desperately missed. He leaned over her, brushing her hair back from her face. “Your return inspired one of his oft-repeated diatribes. He was fairly insistent that it was my duty to get started again on trying to produce an heir.” He grinned, his brow shifting slightly. “For once, he and I are in perfect agreement,” he murmured, leaning down to her neck.

She laughed, writhing as his kisses tickled her throat, his hands playfully wrestling hers down as she tried to swat him away. “Alistair, I’m exhausted,” she said, trying to stifle a giggle. “And I’ve been riding a horse at a hard pace for nearly a week straight in order to get back here as quickly as I could. I’m fairly useless to you as a lover right now.”

“I seriously doubt that,” he said, but he pulled away all the same, looking down at her. She ran a hand along his cheek, studying his face. The same face she had seen every night when she closed her eyes for the past eight years, though changed subtly by age. He’d still retained some of his boyishness when she saw him last. Now that quality was reserved only to his eyes and the way he now looked at her. She slid her hand behind his neck, pressing him down into a slow kiss, delicate and loving, filling that longing hole within her that had grown in her absence - that need for his love and affection, for his presence, for the sight of him, the sound of him, the knowledge that he was within reach whenever she had need of him. He kissed her with a reverent touch, praising and worshiping and relieved to have her returned to him.

She broke the kiss with a sigh, smiling. “Goodnight, husband.” She said, soft but firm in her tone. He let out a short huff of laughter, shaking his head but settled down beside her once more, his chin resting against her shoulder, his broad arm slung around her waist.

“Tomorrow, then?” He whispered.

She smiled, her eyes closing. “Tomorrow,” she promised sleepily. “And the day after that. And the day after that.”

ROMANCE MEME CAN BE FOUND HERE. 

Want to read other prompts I’ve filled from this meme? Check out the ROMANCE MEME MASTERPOST.

swoops in real quick to give u all this King Ensemble verse headcanon that nearly made me weep in English class 5 minutes ago:

Older!Frisk becomes a foster parent and they’re always surrounded by little baby humans and monsters wherever they go. Asriel has two biological kids of his own at one point.

The two of them are often busy with like, official king business and stuff. Chara is too lazy to get in on the ‘often busy’ thing, kingly duties be damned. the result…

“CHARA”

“I am the demon that comes when you call its- what the fuck”

“you watch your mouth in front of my kids! you’re babysitting today”

“why????”

“cause ur a gosh darn slob, now please keep these 5 small rabid individuals from destroying the castle until we get home, thank you”

“>:(”

treason stains your lips {part i}

so yeah, here’s the prologue for my darhk!felicity au… i’m not totally sure where i’m going with this, but it was prompted by this amazing anon in my askbox… it will be olicity eventually, but i don’t really mind sticking hints of my other felicity-related ships in here. i hope you guys like this, and send my headcanons for this au please because i am kind of lost

title from the poem london’s burning by a.g.: your mouth tastes like november the sixth // treason stains your lips, wine-dark and haunting

Rating: T/PG-13 | Words: 2,358 | Character: Felicity Smoak | Darhk!Felicity AU 

tagging olicitykisses because nora is great and also redpendreaming because she said she’d like to read this au if i ever wrote it [if anyone else wants to be tagged let me know]

Once upon a time.

That’s how the story starts. The one he tells her every night as far back as she can remember.

Once upon a time there was a great king.

Her father whispers to her as he tucks her into the soft pink blankets of her childhood bed.

But there was a threat to his rule, one that he had to eliminate, and he could not do it as a king, so he packed up his kingly things and went into hiding.

Little Felicity was confused; what threat could be so terrible that a king himself could not get rid of it? She would never understand. But it was okay, because the next part of the story always distracted her.

And while he was in hiding, he stopped at a well and wished for happiness, because he had not felt it in so long, and there he met a milkmaid with hair the color of corn silk.

“Like mommy?” She would ask and he would always smile and kiss her forehead and brush away the strands of decidedly dark hair from her face.

“Yes. Just like mommy.”

And so the king decided to stay in the village with the milkmaid and he married her and they had a beautiful little princess. And for a while, they were all happy.

And Felicity would always think the story was over, but it never was, because he would continue on, with something that never really seemed like an ending.

But the king knew one day he would have to go back to being a king and leave this life behind, as soon as it was safe for him to do so.

“Why couldn’t he take his family with him?” She would always ask.

And her father would look at her with sparkling steely blue eyes and smile and not answer her question with anything other than “Someday you’ll understand, sweetheart.”

When he left, just like he’d always said the king would do in the story, Felicity would tell herself that he was coming back, because he said he’d come back, he said he loved them. He said the king would come back and make his daughter a princess.

But he never did.

And she’s getting a little too old to believe in fairytales. She’s getting a little too old to keep pretending that any castles exist other than the ones that are filled with smokers and gamblers. She’s getting a little too old to pretend that she could ever be a princess, or to pretend that her father was anything other than what he was: which was gone.

So she stops pretending.

Keep reading

okay, I was going to reblog this with some other theories, but I realized the more I got into it, the more I think that it’s Charming, not Snow, who would have sent the message.

I mean, Snow might have had some involvement in it, but the way she was talking about Emma finding an unconventional happy ending, along with her reservations about Hook, it doesn’t seem like she’d be all that on-board with the ‘let’s send the pirate after her’ idea.

But Charming and Hook developed their bromance, and he knows that – if he tells Hook they need Emma – Hook will stop at nothing to find her and bring her back. And Charming is the only one who would immediately jump to him – the rest of them probably wouldn’t really be on the 'let’s send the pirate who only just decided not to be a villain after our savior’ train. It might have been a conference and group agreement, and I’m sure, if pressed, Charming could sell a case for it, but the promo makes me wonder about that.

Keep reading