it is also magic to pray for a daughter and find yourself with an endless march of boys who all have the smile of a motherfucker who wronged you and never apologized.
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josephine + sigge.
open starter @1642hqzstarters
their arrival had gone smoothly and yet sigge was still unsatisfied. there was a part of him, though small(?), that had wanted to incite more of a reaction. perhaps that was naïve, thinking there would be more of an uproar than there was. he’ll just have to decide the gasps and murmurs of them throughout the rest of the night would be enough until something else happened – what that something else might be, he hadn’t decided yet. only hoped the others would not expect him the swedish family to be so easily forgiving for their non-invitation. are they not also a part of helping the world rebuild after such a terrible loss? they dismiss them before they’ve even given them a chance to try. it’s quite rude, he thinks.
“good morning,” he greets easily, a small grin on his lips to show he’s surely not the madman they must think he is. “how did you find the festivities?” an innocuous tone as he reaches for a few of the delicacies on display at the table he’s found himself at. “i’m afraid we spent most of the night getting settled in our chambers, i do hope we didn’t miss anything too exciting.” not that he’s sure much even happened during the event – he hadn’t seen a single one of the supposed newly betrotheds. he’d hardly even seen the english king or queen themselves.
a violence sits inside her chest , a tight fury stoked by the engagement celebration and its myriad of quiet little failures . her expression is cool and calm with the practice of decades , but she wields her silverware as though they may be weaponized at any moment . the approach of the so called king of sweden does little to assuage her icy upset ; the english have little place to raise complaints about usurper kings , but she will nurse her grudge for the timing of the swedes’ entrance for the rest of the summit . she does nothing in halves .
she smooths her features into something resembling politeness and does not rise from her seat to greet him . ″ quite lovely , thank you , ″ for she would not admit to the stinging humiliation of absentee princes and uninvited guests and rare slivers of hope never turning out as she had wanted them to . ″ no , nothing quite of note . i hope you and yours rested well after your long journey . ″
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heels slammed against smooth stone floors as the once and future crown princess of switzerland tore through the palace . mads might have been known for her excesses , but this was a cold fury of rare heights , and guests and staff alike scrambled out of her wake . deep brown eyes lit with something cruel as she found the source of her rage , and she did not bother with courtesies , snarled ″ windsor ! ″ as though she could kill with the word alone . her hand on his shoulder was not light with years of camaraderie , no gentle brush of love and companionship - it was tight as a vise , nails digging into him through his shirt as she forced him to walk in front of her , shoving open the door to the nearest room and slamming it shut behind them . only then did she let go of him , rounding on him with teeth bared .
“ i will tell you this once and once only . you will pull yourself together and apologize to my sister , or i will GUT YOU . you think you can make her cry and walk away from this ? do not play the FOOL . this is your responsibility just as much as it is hers . ″
for the prince maxim windsor , @vitaiisms .
#𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 ― interaction#with maxim windsor.#today on cut lines: i will gut you before god and every king here
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some sort of love poem
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mads + jakob.
elbows propped up on the sheets, amara lifted her chin a slight to attempt a peek at his scribbling. the angle was too awkward to make out a thing, so she reclined once more with a soft thud and an audible sigh. amara was ever-inquisitive, reminiscent of the days she would quite literally follow mads’ every step with the air of a lost puppy — though the intent had always been more than mere curiosity about his affairs. amara pried because she wanted to belong, wanted to feel close to her sibling. “next time you gather your old friends for a drunken reunion, be sure to invite me. if i have to endure one more evening of the same old gossip being recounted, i will surely perish.” a protesting huff followed. “i’m of half a mind to start fabricating stories, just to see how quickly they would echo through the palace.” amara mused with a low rumbling chuckle before the next statement made her grow alert. “a most fruitful alliance for yourself— you mean a betrothal? with whom?”
he laughed , sealing the notes and setting them aside . ʺ of course , you shall be the guest of honor ! anatol will be happy to have you along . ʺ everyone surely should have been concerned that amara and anatol got along as well as they did , but mads was only happy to see it . ʺ oh ? any in mind yet ? ʺ he attempted sobriety as amara correctly guessed betrothal , features briefly schooled to befit the most ladylike of princesses - yet as he leaned in and spoke , a self satisfied smile was quick to break through the cracks of his demeanor . ʺ my dear friend IS now the king of austria, you know ... ʺ the idea had grown on him faster than he dared to admit . he had always wanted a crown , had never cared much who he had to bear to get it - but with jakob , if he could only persuade them , he had a chance for more . a true partnership , friendship , love . he would hate to sound so terribly soft as to say it , that he would be entirely content at their side . ʺ there is no official word yet , of course , but do not doubt me . ʺ
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josephine + augustine.
He waited silently, hardly breathing, hands left to dangle helplessly at his sides. He could not say if it was truly so long that she left him there, or if he was simply unaccustomed to waiting for anything in his life, king that he was. It was when the guards pushed the doors open, when he stepped inside, that he realized he didn’t know what he would say. He stood there for a moment, let the doors close behind him, a silhouette in the darkness.
Quietly, he cleared his throat. “Josephine,” he started, then stopped. “Did I wake you?” Guilt tinged at his voice, bittersweet. He shouldn’t have come. “I…could not sleep.” The words felt clumsy. He had charmed her once, perhaps, but he wasn’t that man anymore.
augustine had always carried within him the trapped energy of a tiger in a cage , clear in every step he took , every line of his body - it had once been infectious , to bring the beast to heel , to soothe at her hand . now he was exhausting to watch , so tightly wound , all claws and teeth , liable to cut even when he did not mean to . her eyes narrowed carefully as he spoke , the bedsheets a protective shield , and she did not breathe .
ʺ no , ʺ she said , when the silence had pooled deeply enough to drown in . it still felt odd , to watch him flounder , even if it had been seventeen years since they had last had any measure of peace with each other . the dashing crown prince who had swept her away from the halls of her father had been dead for decades now . ʺ ... do you often struggle with it ? ʺ
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Reginald Shepherd, “The Friend”
[Text ID: “In the dream I am always posthumous, the sole survivor of myself”]
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josephine + lucille.
Location: Lucille's chambers in the Swiss Palace in the evening
Lucille had sent one of her servants to send for the Queen of England for some "evening tea" and "discussions of diplomacy".
While the servant was out to find the Queen, Lucille took a bath... the bath full of rose petals.
Upon hearing the knock on the door she smiled and answered from the bath.
"You may enter." She said.
Lucille waved her hand to gesture the servants to leave her and The Queen of England alone.
"Your majesty." She greeted as she stood up in the tub with a smile, every inch of her naked form dripping wet as she bowed slightly, before sitting back in the tub.
"I am very happy to see you again Josephine. I missed your presence. Would you like to have some fun with me in the bath? Or perhaps I can dry off and we can have our fun in my bed." Lucille offered with a knowing smile, though her eyes gazed upon her sensually.
She had last seen her during a previous summit, and the two of them had the best time. Lucille certainly wanted to top the time they previously had together... she genuinely enjoyed Josephine's friendship and company, not only that but what better way to help France by building an alliance with England in case Renaud wanted something from the English... Lucille wanted to achieve this for France by not just being friends with England's Queen but also exchanging pleasure with her.
less than pure motives had been the clear assumption when the servant had called on her with invitation from lucille , but - god above , lucille still found a way to surprise her . her casual air soon dissipated as she drank in the sight of the maitresse-en-titre , a smile tugging at her lips . yes , it came to her now that she really had missed this . had missed HER in the name of sheer confidence and the curve of her hips . josephine did not often take lovers - this would indeed be fun .
she stepped forward and closer to her , gaze dragging over the shadow of lucille’s body in the water . ʺ as lovely as that does sound , i have less fear of making a fool of myself on the bed , ʺ she said with a small laugh . she offered a hand to help lucille out of the tub , starkly aware of the difference in dress between them . she wanted her , and she wanted her NOW . time was fleeting and every moment here ought to be enjoyed to the fullest .
#𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐫 ― interaction#with lucille du bardot.#lucille is just so sexy#putting this under the cut as we get a lil more nsfw
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mads + sebastian.
This was why he didn’t want to be in Switzerland. As much as he knew, he needed alliances and that he could offer his own, the location was far from ideal. Being in Switzerland put a target on both he and his wife, and he knew it. But he was a King, he couldn’t turn away simply because he broke a betrothal. He was far from the first and wouldn’t be the last either. Many would do it for eons to come.
Still, Magdalena was a special case. Their temper was known to many, and he knew that, he wasn’t afraid of her, far from it. Causing a scene would be a problem, though. “I would hate to bother you, you look quite happy on your own.”
she smiled broadly at him , and it was all sharp teeth to tear his throat out , a gleam of pure and utter hatred . ʺ well , i have plenty of experience contenting myself alone , ʺ YOU TRAITOROUS FUCK . ʺ but i cannot hear anyone place doubt on swiss hospitality . do sit . ʺ she settled one hand on her lap to hide the way it curled into a fist , her temper coming along as quickly as a wildfire . surely this could not end well , but she refused to let him continue to escape facing it . facing her . she could have been sweetness itself for him - a lie , though one she will not admit to - and he chose this instead . for LOVE of all things . what a joke .
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mads + amara.
@mountebanks ⸻ CLOSED STARTER.
she had never once hesitated to take the liberties she believed she was owed in life — that included waltzing into her sibling’s chambers unannounced and plopping down on mads’ bed with a markedly dramatic sigh. amara truly never issued a warning, others simply had to deal with her theatrics. unapologetic and utterly listless, she eventually sat up on the bed and peered at her sister with a pout. “tell me. how are you enjoying the summit so far? hopeful for many fruitful alliances to strengthen switzerland, perhaps even grant us perpetual peace?” she asked before rolling her eyes with all the melodrama a bored princess could possibly muster. “how monotonous our history books would be if we all suddenly decided to play nice.”
with a flourish of ink he finished scrawling his invitations to his boys for a dinner tomorrow evening , letting amara enjoy her dramatics until he was done . it was easy routine to share space with her . he turned to her when she spoke , making a face at the prospect of perpetual peace . isolde would surely never allow such a thing to happen . ʺ well , i cannot say any history books will smile upon WHY , but i have been greatly enjoying the opportunity to see old friends and get them terribly drunk , ʺ he said with a pleased little grin before he became slightly more serious . ʺ i will leave the diplomacy to our beloved king , though i may have found a most fruitful alliance for myself ... ʺ
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mads + lingyue.
@mountebanks ♡ magdalena jönsson
the emperor takes long, graceful strides down the beautifully decorated hallway; there’s a sense of determination behind each step. although being here in switzerland is part of her plan to garner more allies, recent events have her thinking. rumors of the plague returning, while something to certainly question further, isn’t her main priority. it’s the unskilled assassin that has her interest piqued. with decades of meticulous training, lingyue knows she has nothing to worry about. however, hubris is how her father made his grave and she refuses to repeat his mistakes—not any more than she already has. being a mirror image of someone is a double-edged sword, after all.
rounding a corner, finally, lingyue arrives at her destination. stepping inside the room, her solemnity melts into something more amicable as her gaze settles upon mads. she wordlessly dismisses her accompanying guards, signaling them to wait outside the shut door. the young emperor sighs and takes a nearby seat. “i’m beginning to think your brother might not have thought this summit all the way through.” lingyue admits with a light laugh. “but, that’s a conversation for another time…”
in a sense, lingyue is thankful the group accepted her in—having friends isn’t a luxury she’s familiar with, so when max introduced them all, it was…enlightening. “right now i’m here for you, not for politics. don’t tell max, though. he might get jealous.” now she’s just teasing.
ʺ lingyue dearest , if i think about my brother one more time today i may go utterly mad . ʺ she says it teasingly , flashing the emperor a warm smile , but there is a note of truth to it she hates to admit to . best keep motives to herself , in bloody times like these - she would hate to be accused for a crime that she did not commit , worse for one that she did . and it is so much easier to relax with a friend nearby , after so many years of absence .
ʺ oh , it would just break his heart in two ! i shall tell him immediately . ʺ her smile grows , and she reclines back in her chair , dark and curious eyes still fixed on lingyue . ʺ how are you faring ? ʺ
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josephine + maxim.
josephine is not the only one of the pair to act out of place – maxim’s eyes widen and he jolts slightly, small enough that anyone not paying apt attention to them would notice but enough all the same. he finds himself looking around a bit, as if he worries that every eye in the room is on them. they’re not, is the thing, and maxim should know by now not to expect it unless he makes the scene himself.
his jaw clenches and he takes a breath, forces himself to relax and shakes his head. he smiles, saving them both the embarrassment should any eyes actually linger on them and rumors spread of the coldness in the english family, and reaches forward to take her hand in both of his. “i’m fine,” he promises, and rests their hands on the table before letting go just as quickly as he took them. “just a slight mishap on my end – i’ll be more careful.” he says, knowing it likely isn’t true. maxim pours himself whatever is on the table and takes a gulp, forcing nerves of the whole ordeal down. he doesn’t mention nilani, or the time spent caring for such a stupid wound, because he knows then how that conversation will go and he refuses to be the one to start it. “was there something you wanted to speak to me about?”
his touch burns . the press of her hand between his , and she tries to recall the last time that she held him , fruitlessly reaching for memories of him , grown , and her , affectionate , that do not exist . he must have been young . after peter came along screaming , but not too long after . she looks at maxim now , and thinks that he is not so old now either . still her child , her blonde boy with those dark eyes and brilliant smiles . he pulls away and it leaves her cold and she is well accustomed to that . she clasps her hands in her lap too tightly , fingers twined together so harshly that the pressure makes her skin whiten .
it is hard to compose herself . she has to glance away briefly in order to stop looking at him like he is little again , twelve with scraped knees . like he still needs her , like there is any good she could do for him . he returns to himself and he is awfully like augustine . still , she cannot focus again on her original goal , her little marriage plans . they had been so important only moments ago and now she cannot make them matter . she clears her throat quietly , gives a small shake of her head . ʺ no . no , it is ... irrelevant , i suppose . are you ... faring well , maxim ? ʺ
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mads + jakob.
they couldn’t help themself ; they laughed. it had been a long time since they’d laughed. before josef’s funeral, certainly. there was comfort in the familiar feeling of this, her constant lying victories & their own endless bafflement, a scene oft repeated throughout decades. “please, your sweet words can’t fool me. after all of our years together, i know how you are. really, how do you do it ? “
their devil smile soon grew to a grin , beyond pleased with their little victory . all they had wanted was to make him LAUGH . it was a beautiful thing . they hated to see him wearing the cold gravity of a crown and for once it was not due to their own selfish jealousies . ʺ ah , my dear king , ʺ they said with a shake of their head , ʺ the game is not so fun if i reveal my secrets . would you ever tell me your own methods , when you best me on horseback ? ʺ
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josephine + sorcha.
Obviously it wasn’t the right season for flowers - while there was a bloom for every time of year, this particular garden wasn’t flourishing in the cold and perhaps it was the mentality of those who Sorcha surrounded herself with that said the flower blooming at all should have been seemed as a miracle, but she didn’t argue. For all she knew, it was a backhanded remark about her own age and condition.
“In your opinion, do you believe we’ll be here long enough to see them bloom, or will we be home by then?” There was the urge to pat her stomach as she thought about the passage of time. She could ask Robert, likely would, but she wanted to know if the English Queen would answer, if she had any idea and just how different it might be.
ʺ i should like to see a swiss spring , ʺ she said rather idly , blondebrown curls ruffled slightly by the faint wind . she watched sorcha for a moment , unsure of how much of her own personal politics she wanted to reveal to a stranger , nevermind a scottish one . the relations between their countries were strained , as of late . she could not entirely blame them for it , but she kept the line . ʺ yet i do believe we will be home by then . widespread international cooperation ... it seems rather optimistic . ʺ as much as she herself was for diplomacy , none would call her an optimist . with her own husband set rather against it , england would likely end up alone .
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Cersei Lannister in Game of Thrones season three
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josephine + svetlana.
Closed starter! @mountebanks
Location: One of the many public rooms in the Swiss Palace in the afternoon
The Tsarina and the Queen of England had much to discuss, especially in regards to the recent attempted murder of the Queen of The Netherlands.
She nursed her goblet of wine, sitting in her cushioned chair deep in thought.
Svetlana heard footsteps and rose before briefly bowing, she only bowed to those she truly respected and she certainly respected the Queen of England.
"Your majesty. Please sit. I hope you are doing well. I wish to speak about all the current events happening around us." She paused briefly before continuing as she sat back down.
"I believe that us Queens and us monarchs should strive to band together in uncertain times... and the recent attempt on The Queen of The Netherlands life certainly spells an uncertain time for all of us. A time that questions our safety in this palace. Wouldn't you agree?" Svetlana asked as the servant poured another goblet of wine.
The Tsarina was always one to get down to business immediately. She believed courtly games were for children and amateurs. Why hide true intentions when conversing with other monarchs of other countries, especially when those conversations were about extremely important matters?
josephine smiled briefly at the russian tsarina in greeting , allowing a small curtsy before she sat beside her . ʺ ah , thank you . i hope the same for you and yours . ʺ the tsarina was quick to focus on the strife at hand -- something that josephine found she respected immensely . as much as she excelled in court and courtesy , it was tiring . there was far too much going on to devote oneself to small talk , and far more to being a queen than petty kindnesses .
ʺ i would , certainly . i fear the diplomatic aims of this summit will be forgotten in this chaos , if the assassin is not found soon -- or if they strike again . ʺ personally , she felt little fear for her own safety . despite everything else , the years had given her faith that augustine would defend their family to the death if need be . ʺ the swiss are performing admirably , of course , ʺ carefully aware that the tsarina was sister in law to the swiss queen , ʺ but the calm has shattered . ʺ augustine had spoken to her about leaving , if they would not be called cowards for it . though in truth he had little care for the summit to begin with .
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desire is suffering
Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘Dream Reveals in Neon the Great Addictions, Frank Bidart ( @wahabibi ) | Dante and Virgil in Hell, William-Adolphe Bouguereau | Vestiges, Ángel García | Blasphemia, Eliran Kantor | So We Must Meet Apart, Jennifer S. Cheng ( @yoursoethereal ) | Prigione di Lacrime, Roberto Ferri | Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 2, 1928-9; Sunday, November 4th, Simone de Beauvoir ( @theoptia ) | Ludwig Drahosch | War of the Foxes, Richard Siken ( @elfreys )
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AN UNAUTHORIZED HISTORY.
( halit ergenç, cis man, he/him, fify-five ) ** ♔ announcing demir osman, the sultan of the ottoman empire! in a recent portrait they seem to resemble halit ergenç. it is a miracle that he survived the last five years and for that reason, they are reluctantly for the kingdoms working together. reflecting on them now, they remind me of silks and finery left in pieces, the echoing screams of weaker men, mistakes you would not have made ten years ago, a dull sword for a death blow.
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