#principal young royals

[raincitygirl76]

Malin has the best facial expressions.

The most enchanting thing about Malin and her facial expressions, though, is that Anna Peterson, who plays Malin, is not a professional actor. She’s ex-Swedish army, went into personal protection after leaving the army.

I.e. Malin the bodyguard is played by a real life professional bodyguard. So those facial expressions are probably Anna’s own.

The way Malin just goes 🤷

[sudaca-swag]

está bravo sobrevivir siendo un gay de clase trabajadora en latam ahora que ya no es príncipe de suecia

[hopetofantasy]

The house master doing shots with the boys is making me howl 😂

[raincitygirl76]

I’m frankly surprised the headmistress didn’t quietly veto the song LONG before Jan-Olof got involved in the preparations. Maybe the headmistress is the only other person in the world, apart from Wilhelm, who doesn’t realize the song is actually all about Wilhelm.

The choir director/music teacher is obviously thrilled with her star tenor and budding composer, so she’s not going to worry about the press potentially having a field day. But I wouldn’t have thought Jan-Olof would be the very first adult to realize that having the Hillerska choir, including Simon, standing behind the Crown Prince when he does his speech is a bad idea, from the point of view of cutting down on fresh rumours.

But I suppose it’s difficult at the last minute to reorganize where everybody will sit or stand during the jubilee. Particularly since there’s a marquee, a stage, multiple bleachers that would all have to be switched in a limited outdoor space. And you’d have to find new places to put all the TV cameras. Easier to just cut the song with a solo by the boy who’s been scandalously linked to the Crown Prince in the past.

I suspect the programs had already been printed, though. Awkward to have Hillerska Song Remix, with music and lyrics by Simon Eriksson, tenor solo by Simon Eriksson, in the program. But at least it won’t actually be SUNG in front of the TV cameras. And nobody who isn’t physically present at the jubilee will have a copy of the program. Which means it won’t be mentioned when “This Year with the Royal Family” broadcasts.

I love how Wille going off script in his speech and taking back his lie completely fucked up Jan-Olof’s day. Week. Month. Possibly fucked up his whole YEAR. Suddenly, even with the solo axed, all the cameras are swinging to do close-ups on that tiresome, scandalous, disrespectful non-resident choirboy.

I’ve been holding a grudge against Jan-Olof since he got Malin to manhandle Wilhelm in 2.02. My feelings about him were not improved when he openly asked August to confirm his heterosexuality in 2.04, and wasn’t even embarrassed about it. Jan-Olof has zero qualms about saying the quiet part out loud.

the scene where jan-olaf stops simon from singing his song has to be the most frustrating in the whole series, it makes me so mad omg. he whispers the choir teacher, and you already know what's going to happen.. it feels just as horrible for us as it does for simon, realising that of course, he's not going to be allowed to sing because of the video, especially considering it's his face that's shown. they're not gonna let him have this opportunity.

but im totally in love with simon standing up to him right away and walking out of there.

also, i suppose it's symbolism of the royal court and the institution stopping wilhelm and simon from being together - whether it's through wilhelm's own actions or the court themselves. they stop simon from singing his song, the song about his love for wilhelm.

[greeen-bean]

"Obviously I said no, I have no interest in those things?"

Wille babe, who is it who got filmed getting into a fight at a club and had to be sent to a boarding school??? Cuz it wasn't me

[helsteeth]

I can’t believe Simon says after this moment

“Yesterday was a mistake. Okay?”

[raincitygirl76]

@levok2 is a delightful blog where @levok fills in the gaps in between episodes with text conversations etc. These texts are not canon, obviously, but they strike me as extremely plausible.

Sunday 11:24

Simon's phone

[humhalelujah]

fuck this stupid blonde bitch

[boiohboii]

The Royal Way 《Pt.2》

(Leclerc!reader x Prince of Monaco!oc)

After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco

or

in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.

N.B: so, this was supposed to be longer and the last part, but it's currently 3 AM and I have classes at 8 AM thus me splitting this little fic into a trilogy. Hopefully, I will have time tomorrow to post the third and final part! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!! WARNINGS: NOT REALISTIC AT ALL!! if you are looking for a realistic revenge sort of plot, it is not here, I tried as best as I can to search up what the whole electronic system does and it's relation to the DRS, BUT I AM BY NO MEANS AN EXPERT NOR HAVE ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE, SO EXCUSE THE POOR RESEARCH. The car designs are from Pinterest... Some swear words (fuck, bitch, etc...) Let me know if I missed anything else please!

Faceclaims:

yn leclerc --> anya taylor joy

Prince Thierry --> louis partridge

Masterlist // part 1

Liked by ferrariisdone, charlesthefrench, leclercfam and 716,920 others

F1_updates_live: Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc heading into the Ferrari motor home in LA. Neither of the Royals look ecstatic to be in this position and it's no doubt to do with the statement released by Ferrari's Formula one media team, where they had essentially blamed the newly wedded Princess, YN Leclerc and their own driver, Charles Leclerc, for his DNF in the previous GP.

username: let them cook

username: the amount of bodyguards they have is insane

username: they do not look happy

username: yeah, no shit sherlock, ferrari basically said that it was yn's fault that Charles is distracted

username: ferrari blaming everyone but themselves

LEAKED AUDIO FROM LAS VEGAS GP, FERRARI'S MOTORHOME: tensions rise in the Ferrari garage as the young royals of Monaco, Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc, threaten Fred Vasseur of taking him to court after buying out the rest of Charles' contract with Ferrari.

(Princess YN Leclerc,Prince Thierry, Fred Vasseur)

"It has been proven time and time again that the team is so incompetent! Why won't you do any changes?"

"Do you think that it's easy? These are people's livelihoods we are talking about"

"You do realise you are talking to a princess, right? She is well aware of how to run a business and a team, unlike you."

"I am just saying that I can't just fire people because Charles can't manage the car!"

"CAN'T MANAGE THE CAR? Are you out of your fucking mind mr. Vasseur? There is evidence, very strong evidence for your information, that the problem was from the electronic system. Do you have any idea how fucked up your engineers and strategists have to be to send out a car with failed electronic system?"

"Correct me if I am wrong my darling, but don't the electronic system control the DRS?"

"Mmhhmmm"

"And if the DRS opens in a corner it might result in a crash, am I correct mr. Vasseur?"

"The DRS was fine, there was-"

"My husband is asking a yes or no question Fred."

"Yes."

"So basically, Ferrari's Formula one team had, intentionally and with their knowledge, put a member of the monegasque royal family in direct danger."

"But Charles isn't a member of the royal family! He is only YN's half brother!"

"PRINCESS YN MR VASSEUR! YOU WILL DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT!"

"Charles is my brother, and you dare put him in harm's way. I am princess YN Leclerc of Monaco, I can and I will hold you accountable as the principal of this team."

"You can't do anything! Carlos had the same car-"

"Carlos did not have the same car and you know it!"

"We already know Fred, we have had professional inspections done on both cars, it's quite deceiving really, telling a driver that he's the priority and still disappointing him every single time."

🔊 a thud is heard 🔊

"This is the amount of money to buy Charles out of Ferrari, but don't spend it Fred, we will be getting it back in court."

"YN WHAT WE-"

"PRINCESS YN FRED! *sigh* it seems like no matter what you are still convinced that you and your workers did no wrong, we will see about that."

"There is only one race left, there will be no team to take in Charles now!"

"Oh, we are not looking for a team to take him in, we made a team for him."

{Taglist: @phillydilly @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @omgsuperstarg @formulas-bitch @brakingboundaries @kyuupidwrites}

[madamabelladonna]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: House Dayne of Starfall, bearing the sigil of a white falling star and a sword on a field of lavender. Though sparse in men and coin, House Dayne is renowned as one of the oldest in Westeros. Sworn to House Martell, under the decree of their liege lord, Lord Julius Dayne dispatched the Sword of the Morning, his second son, Ser Merek Dayne, along with his only daughter, to King’s Landing as emissaries of Dorne. Little did they know, the twinkle of a star could ignite the passions of men, dragons, and wolves alike. 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Romance, Angst, Love Triangle, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Drama, Coming-of-Age, Explicit Content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Violence, Gore, War, Reader eating cheerios with Luke and Helaena while Jace, Cregan, and Aemond duke it out 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞 Young Lady Dayne never truly grasped what it meant to be a high-born lady; her mother and father had sheltered her from the vipers lurking in the shadows. Yet, as fate would have it, their protection could only shield her for so long before she was cast into a den brimming with treachery. Green or Black? The choice is hers, but she finds herself drawn to the hue of violet…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 Young Lady Dayne, finds herself adjusting to her new life at the capital. A gift from Starfall, a steed with a mane like freshly fallen snow. As she immerses herself in the pages of her books, a small figure unexpectedly scampers into her chamber—a boy lost in the game of hide and seek. She finds herself teaching the boy how to read. Only to be seated in the company of Princess Rhaenyra and her small family, sharing a quiet tea.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐫 Young Lady Dayne, awaiting Jacaerys' lesson's end, enjoys tea with Princess Rhaenyra, who grants her access to the Royal Library due to her rare gifts. As she reads beneath the heart tree, a prince in green watches her, sparking jealousy within the eldest son of Rhaenyra. With Jacaerys' eighth name day nearing, their growing relationship seems to be all the court can talk about.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕: 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐡𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 Young Lady Dayne captivated the feast held by King Viserys in honor of his grandson, her presence and dance stirring much interest among the court. The murmurs of a possible union between the Seven Kingdoms and The Principality of Dorne swirled in the air, though beneath the revelry, rumors threatened to unravel such hopes.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕: 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 Young Lady Dayne knew survival in the Red Keep required more than caution—it demanded influence. After keeping her distance from Jacaerys, she finally accepted his apology, truly forgiving him. But as he left, she realized it might be long before she saw him again. In his place, a prince in green awaited.

[More in pending...]

This is my first post so I hope you like it, personally, House Dayne is my favorite and I hope it gets more recognition in the next book.

Taglist: (If you want to be added, please click here)

@yohanseyebrowmole @radiantdanvers @accidentpronedork @marvel-mistress-padawan @tabathastan @deltamoon666 @hotdhoe @cosmosnkaz @dragonamongwolves @r-3dlips @ghizlana @boiolay @gardenfaeries @ilymoonie @mellylla @omgsuperstarg @idohknow @beskardroids @buckystevelove @plainxlazy @gwaynehightower @beebeechaos @milksde @saintkittykat @cornbreadwithcheese @pinkb00bsocks @agoldenwoe @moonliightbabes @day2dream @geminizmoonz

[raincitygirl76]

I would argue that the purely practical aspects were a little worse for Simon, on two counts. #1. He didn’t have police protection officers to chase away tabloid journalists and just generally nosy strangers. #2. And he wasn’t able to deny that he was in the video. So yes, Wilhelm abandoned Simon (under extreme duress from Kristina), and thus they each had to face the aftermath alone. Which sucked, but it also sucked because, separated as they were, Simon had no opportunity to realize Wille was also still deeply traumatized. Because they were both working through the trauma separately.

The violation happened to BOTH of them. Both their families were affected. They both had to carry on with daily life surrounded by classmates and teachers who knew damn well Wilhelm’s denial was a lie. Everybody they had to interact with at school each day had seen them both naked and vulnerable during a moment that should’ve been private. They were both subject to major gossip and innuendo.

They both had to wonder which of their classmates had surreptitiously filmed them in an intimate moment and then leaked it all over the internet. And then later Wilhelm knew exactly who it was, had to face him every day, and had to live with the knowledge that his mother protected his second cousin who posted revenge porn over her son, the victim of August’s revenge porn.

Neither of them got proper adult support, either. Yes, Wilhelm eventually got counselling, but he didn’t get it because of the video. Kristina didn’t make him see a psychologist until he had a tantrum on speakerphone and threatened to abdicate. The video aftermath was not top of mind for her. Wanting him to control his angry outbursts was.

Simon didn’t get counselling at all. That said, there are often long waiting lists to see psychologists and counsellors for free in the public system, and Linda couldn’t have afforded to send him private and pay out of pocket. Nonetheless, the fact that Hillerska had Boris the school psychologist on staff and didn’t make his services available to Simon free of charge is sheer bloody negligence.

The violation took place at their school. Hillerska had a duty of care to keep their students safe, and they failed. Then they failed again, by not offering the victimized students (Simon only at the time, since Wille was madly pretending he wasn’t a victim) psychological support to work through the violation.

But yes @heartbreakprincewille is absolutely right. They were both violated, and in 2.06 Simon saw how badly it had affected Wille too. The statement he made under duress shielded Wilhelm from a few of the practical consequences of the video, but not from the majority of the consequences.

Great tags from @retrieve-the-kraken, @gulliblelemon and @helsteeth

And more tags from @capricious-soldes

I was watching the scene where Wille points the gun at August and it's such a brilliant scene for many reasons but the one that hit me the most is that Simon got to see the degree to which Wille was affected by the video.

In the Music Room fight that went down between them in the last episode, Simon basically says that Wille had it easy in terms of facing the repercussions of the video as compared to Simon. And Wille is rightfully offended because Simon fails to understand that just because the manner in which they both suffered was different, it doesn't mean that the suffering itself was any less for Wilhelm.

Like, when Wilhelm points the gun at August, the anger that flashes on his face is not some sort of a "quarrel" between the Royals, it's Wilhelm's pain resurfacing in the form of sheer anger, all the sleepless nights and tears bubbling and making their way into his voice. It's so evident in that scene, how Wilhelm was deeply affected by everything that went down and now that Simon had a chance to bring some justice to both of them, August snooped in and took that chance away from them. Like, Simon must have finally understood that the game is not rigged just for him, but Wilhelm is as much of a victim as Simon is. That Wilhelm's hurt ran so deep that he was ready to blow off his own cousin's head. And it could be one of the realizations that helped Simon understand that it's not him vs Wille, they both were equally devastated by August's actions and even more so, Wille's loyalty will always lie with what's right, and with Simon.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[fromchaostocosmos]

In the war between Israel and Hamas, there have been far too many casualties­—thousands of innocent civilians have died, primarily in Gaza. But this war has another less visible casualty: the hundreds of thousands of Jewish immigrants to Israel from the Middle East and North Africa known as Mizrahi, whose history is being erased from the popular narrative about Israel. My community is among them.

When angry protesters hurl charges of apartheid and colonialism at Israel, they are, knowingly or not, repudiating the truth about Israel's origin and the vast racial and ethnic diversity of its nation.

I was born and raised in Iran in a family of Jewish educators. I came of age during the tumultuous years of the Iranian revolution, just as Ayatollah Khomeini rose to power in 1979, and soon thereafter, annihilated his opposition­—feminists, leftists, even the Islamic Marxists who had long revered him as their spiritual leader. Until 1979, if anyone had told my observant Jewish family that we would someday leave Iran, we would have laughed. In fact, at our Passover seders, the words "next year in Jerusalem," were always followed by chuckles and quips, "oh, yeah, sure, Watch me pack!" all underlining our collective belief that we were exactly where we intended to remain. We loved Israel, but Israel was a Nirvana­—a place we revered but never expected to reach.

The 30 years preceding the Islamic revolution had led the Jewish community to believe that the dark days of bigotry were behind them. And for good reason! When my father was a schoolboy in the late 1930s, he was not allowed to attend school on rainy days. In the highly conservative town where he grew up, in Khonsar, his Shiite neighbors considered Jews "unclean," or Najes. They barred them, among other things, from leaving their homes on rainy days, lest the rainwater splashed off the bodies of the Jews and onto the Muslim passersby, thus making them "unclean," too. Yet, that same boy grew up, left the insular town, attended college in Tehran, earned a master's degree, and served in the royal army as a second lieutenant. (To his last day, my father's photo in military uniform was among his most prized possessions.) After service, he became the principal of a school, purchased a home in what was then a relatively upscale neighborhood of Tehran. The distance between my father's childhood and adulthood far surpassed two decades. It was the distance between two eras­—between incivility and civility, bigotry and tolerance.

Yet, as if on cue, the demon of antisemitism was unleashed again. The 1979 Islamic revolution summoned all the prejudices my father thought had been irretrievably buried. One day, on the wall across our home, graffiti appeared, "Jews gets lost!" Soon thereafter, the residence and fabric store my aunt and her extended family owned in my father's childhood town were set on fire after a mob of protesters looted it. Within days, she and her family, whose entire life's savings had burned in that fire, left for Israel. As young as I was, I could see that the regime was indiscriminately brutal to all those it deemed a threat to its reign, especially secular Muslims. But the new laws were specifically designed so that non-Muslims, and women, all but became second-class citizens. Members of religious minorities, especially the Baha'i, could no longer eye top jobs in academia, government, the military, etc. Restaurateurs had to display signs in their windows making clear that "the establishment was operated by a non-Muslim." In a court of law, members of religious minorities could offer testimony in criminal trials, but theirs would only count as half that of a Muslim witness. Jews were once again reduced to Dhimmis­—tax-paying citizens who were allowed to live, but not thrive. Then came a handful of executions of prominent Jewish leaders in the early months after the revolution, which sent shockwaves through the community. Jewish schools were allowed to operate, but under the headmastership of Muslims who were officially appointed.

Within a few years after the rise of Ayatollah Khomeini to power, the Jewish population of Iran, which once stood at 100,000, shrank to a fraction of its size. Today, of the ancient community whose presence in Iran predates that of Muslims, only 8,000 remain. For centuries, Iran has been home to the most sacred Jewish sites in the Middle East outside of Israel. But those monuments have either fallen into disrepair or are targets of regular attacks by antisemitic mobs. Only last week, the tomb of Esther and Mordecai­—the memorial to the heroine and hero from the Book of Esther who saved the Jews from being massacred in ancient Persia, was set on fire.

How is it that the 90,000-plus who left Iran, many for Israel, are now deemed as occupiers? How do Iranian refugees fleeing persecution become "colonizers" upon arrival in Israel? These families, my aunt among them, were not emissaries of any standing empire, nor were they returning to a place where they had no history. For them, Israel was not a home away from their real homeland. It was their only homeland. The vitriolic slogan that appeared across my home in 1979 demanded that we "get lost!" In 2024, once again, the same Jews are being called upon to leave, this time Israel. Where, then, are Jews allowed to live?

Iranian Jews were not alone. Jews from Iraq, especially in the aftermath of the 1941 pogrom called Farhood, similarly fled their homeland. So did the Jews of Yemen, Tunisia, Egypt, Turkey, Syria, Morocco, Algeria, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, etc. All, destitute and dejected, they took refuge in Israel. Today, they make up nearly 50 percent of Israel's population. To call such a nation colonial GRAVELY misrepresents the facts about Jews and Israel.

In his timeless essay, Looking Back on the Spanish Civil War, George Orwell said that in the Spain of 1937, he "saw history being written not in terms of what happened but of what ought to have happened according to various 'party lines.'" With the alarming rise of antisemitism around the world, and in light of the bloody attacks on Israel by Hamas on Oct. 7, the greatest massacre of Jews since World War II, 2024 bears an uncanny resemblance to Orwell's 1937. But perhaps in no way more ominously than the way truth has been upended to serve an ideological narrative­—one in which Jews, who have lived uninterruptedly in that land for more than two millennia, are cast as white non-indigenous interlopers, with no roots in what has always been their ancient homeland.

A public scholar at the Moynihan Center (CCNY), Roya Hakakian is the author of several books including, Journey from the Land of No: A Girlhood Caught in Revolutionary Iran (Crown, 2005).

[flamingoofeathers]

Hello, I would like to request a request, young maleficent and fem reader, I apologize if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language

𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗖𝗘 || 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗧

pairings: maleficent x fem!reader

summary: The VK's getting in detention after their attempt to steal the book from Merlin's office was supposed to be unbearable, but the presence of a certain detention monitor made it all more bearable for Maleficent.

genre: fluff with a bit of angst

one-shot; wc: 2.2k

main masterlist maleficent masterlist

a/n: it’s like 1:54 a.m here and i’m tired but i cant sleep and i really wanted to get this one out before sleeping, this isn’t proofread so i apologise in advance for the mistakes

After getting caught sneaking inside Merlin’s office, Maleficent and the rest of the VK’s were sent to detention the next school day.

The crew begrudgingly made their way into the far corner of the school, it isn’t the first time they’ve been sent to detention, but that fact doesn’t make it, this god awful room any bearable.

Strangely enough, the detention room was unusually quiet that day, it would often be filled with villain kids who got themselves in trouble. Uliana continued to bitch about the unfortunate results of their failed plan to embarrass Bridget during Castlecoming.

As they sat inside the room, they waited for whomever was going to keep an eye on them, waiting to make that person’s life a living hell for the next 2 hours.

“Ugh, I couldn't even wear the gorgeous dress I bought for the dance, ugh” Maleficent complained.

“No one even asked you to go with them, so why bother?” Hades countered, rolling his eyes.

“Well, for your information, I don't care about the company...asshole. I just wanted to come and ruin some girls' dresses, set stuff on fire…or something to make that boring ass party any bit interesting.” Maleficent fired back.

“Oh please, you wanted to go there just to gawk at the goody goody” Hook interfered, tired of the bickering happening between the two.

“I beg to differ-” Maleficent was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“And speak of the devil” Hook sighed leaning back on his chair, plastering a fake smile towards the smiling girl.

“Good Afternoon! I will be your monitor for today!” The girl, Y/n, said flashing everyone a smile making them dread the next 2 hours, except one horned girl.

“Just today?” Maleficent inquired, changing seats to be near the girl. The royal blushed slightly and stuttering “well- i-” she cleared her throat “i am not sure who will be with you tomorrow” she said staring into the black haired girl.

“Well, that’s a bummer, and here I was hoping we could spend more time together. '' Maleficent feigned disappointment, knowing that the girl is too soft hearted to let the matter go.

“Oh! rest assured that i will ask the headmaster to be on duty tomorrow, if that will make you happier” The girl said smiling towards the girl who silently clapped her hands, muttering a small ‘yay’.

The two girls stared at each other before getting interrupted by a cough coming from Hades.

“Hellooo, we’re here too, but if you want the room all to yourselves we can arrange that” Hades said sarcastically, ignoring the burning glare coming from Maleficent.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I just got a bit ... .uhh….distracted.” Her cheeks tinted red “But, as much as i’d like to let you leave, the headmaster said that you must write” the girl paused before reaching towards the stack of book, before pulling out a piece of paper and turning towards the blackboard and writing:

“I mustn’t sneak and steal from the principal's office”

“...this for at least 4 pages....front and back” the girl still smiling, her positive nature never falling off, not even noticing the sudden drop in atmosphere.

The VK’s looked at the girl as if she had grown 2 heads.

“4 pages!?” Uliana screeched.

“Front and back….what the fuck” Morgie continued.

“Yes and no magic” Y/n said, showing anti-magic cuffs given to her by the headmaster.

“No magi…you’ve got to be kidding me” Hook scoffed, even if he himself didn’t have magic, the others could’ve done it for him.

The horned girl simply shut her mouth, not wanting to say anything rude towards the sweet girl she’s been after for months. Maleficent took a deep breath before plastering another smile and standing up, approaching the lovely girl that stood in front of the class.

“Darling?” Maleficent said, tucking a piece of hair that had fallen from the royals perfectly styled hair.

“Yes?” Y/n said shyly as her cheeks returned to the red hue it held before except this time, much darker.

That small action from the girl she had a crush on made her forget about the others in the room and simply stared at the girls captivating green eyes, that is until a piece of paper was thrown at them along with a “get a room!!” coming from Hades. Maleficent glared at her so-called friend, raising her hands to curse but Y/n had grabbed it whispering “No magic allowed” Maleficent resigned slowly putting her hand back down, but looked at her friend with a fiery glare.

“Darling, as i was saying, do you think maybe just for today you can spare us and let us…use magic” Maleficent said using her flirting skills.

“This is actually disgusting me so much” came from Hook but the two girls ignored him or simply didn’t care enough to listen to him.

“Uli are you seeing this?” “I don't care.”

“Well, i’d get in so much trouble if the headmaster were to find out i let you use magic” the girl reluctantly said, torn between following the rules and impressing her crush.

“What he doesn’t know won’t him, right, Darling?” Maleficent pushed.

“Well…” the girl was still conflicted between the good and the bad.

“If you let us, then maybe you and I can go on a date this weekend?” Maleficent said, trying to convince the girl. It was cruel to use this to convince the girl but, whether she let them use magic or not, the girl would’ve still taken her on a date.

“A date?” Y/n’s eyes widen looking down, her whole face turning red.

She was fully considering it this time, but inside there was this disappointment that her crush would only be willing to go on a date with her for the price of something else.

Y/n looked back up at Maleficent this time her smile was sad and the red hue on her cheeks were gone.

‘Have i said something wrong?’ Maleficent said.

“You don’t need to worry about the date, Maleficent, you can use magic this time and i won’t tell the headmaster” Y/n said with a new found professionalism in her voice.

“Please, sit back down and progress to the task at hand Y/n said before pushing past Maleficent to get to her own seat, opening a book and starting her own work. Meanwhile, Maleficent stared at the girl with a sad and confused look on her face, but she still went back to her seat, continuing to stare at the girl.

“Nice going…Mal” Hades said from behind her.

“I swear to god, I will curse you to eternal sleep if you don’t shut up” Maleficent said, turning to grab Hades' collar and threatening him. Hades raised his hand in feign surrender holding in his chuckle.

“Ugh. Whatever” Maleficent groaned before magic-ing her pen to start writing.

“Mal! Mine too!” she heard Hook said gesturing to his own paper. Maleficent waved her hands and Hook’s pen started writing on his own as well “Thanks!”

That night Maleficent had stayed up all night long ranting about Y/n to Uliana, the sea witch forced to stay awake and listen to her friend complain about her ever so tragic love story.

“I just don’t get it, Uli, why did she suddenly become cold earlier, I was about to score a date!” Maleficent stressed.

“Well, you basically-” Uliana started only to get interrupted by the girl, who was, by the way, walking back and forth their dorm waving her hands around.

“OH MY GOD!! MAYBE I’VE BEEN READING THIS ALL WRONG AND SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME!” Maleficent yelled, turning and looking at her friend, horrified.

“Jesus Christ! Mali, you basically implied that you’d only go on a date with her ONLY if she allowed us to do magic, not because you actually like you.” Uliana explained finally rising from her bed and approaching her distressed friend.

“But I do like her” Maleficent muttered.

“Yeah, but does she know that?”

“I suppose not.” Maleficent sighed, defeated as she plopped down her bed, Uliana following along, comforting the horned girl.

“How about you ask her out, for real this time” Uliana comforted as she let the girl rest her head on her shoulder.

The next day in detention, Y/n had kept her word and was there on duty, but only this time she didn’t utter a word to them, just giving them their task of the day, which is extra homework of Virtues and Values. Today no one complained about the work as they were weary of Maleficent's temper that day, so they just sat and did the work, well, except for Uliana who made Morgie do hers.

Once Maleficent finished her work, she neared the girl who was, quite obviously, avoiding her.

Y/n, noticing someone approaching her desk raised her head, only for her to put it back down.

“Maleficent! If you’ve finished your work, you can just put it down here and you’re free to go” Y/n said with her head still down, refusing to look at Maleficent.

When she was met with silence, Y/n looked up and saw Maleficent’s eyes filled with hurt and hesitancy as if she wanted to say something.

“Are you feeling alright?” Y/n rose to her feet and rounded the desk to touch Maleficent’s face, checking for fever.

“Oh my god, Maleficent! You’re burning! We should get you to the Medical wing!” The now worried girl said as she gathered her things.

The VK’S in the background laughed at the situation but Maleficent didn’t care as she stared starstruck at Y/n.

“Mal!” Uliana whispered-yelled to her friend, signaling to the frantic girl.

“Wait Y/n! I’m not sick, don’t worry!” Maleficent grabbed the girl's forearms, stopping her from panicking.

“But you have a fever!” Y/n insisted.

“I don’t…i don’t” Maleficent reassured, but the latter wasn’t convinced and tried to touch Maleficent’s face once more but got stopped.

“Uhhh…that’s what's making me burn up” Maleficent chuckled as she distanced herself a bit from the girl.

There was a continuous chuckling in the background from the boys.

“What?” Y/n said confused.

“Yeah…don’t worry about it”

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked wanting to be sure, her fri- schoolmate was ok.

“Yes, but there is one thing you can do for me, Darling.” Maleficent said with an unusual insecurity in her voice.

“Oh! Anything!” Y/n urged the girl to tell her what she can do to help her feel ok.

“Go on a date with me” Maleficent breathed out, her tone hopeful.

At that, the other girl's demeanor deflated.

“Oh…umm, I really can’t let you use magic today, Maleficent, I can't risk the headmaster finding out, I'm sorry” the royal apologized as she moved past Maleficent.

Maleficent felt heart broke at that, she knew how she worded it yesterday wasn’t really…ideal, but it still hurt.

“I don’t mean it like that, Y/n.” Maleficent hurried to explain “Would you like to go on a date with me this saturday?”

Y/n stared at the girl, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of event, her cheeks getting back its red hue.

“Are you serious?” The girl asked, fully turning towards the black haired girl “This isn’t a prank? Or a way for me to let you use magic during detention?” The girl wanted to clear her confusion, as she didn’t want her heart broken in the hands of someone she really did like.

“Non no, none of that, i’m asking you on a date because i’ve liked you for so long and i thought i made it obvious but apparently not, so here I am, officially asking you out” Maleficent said as she walked closer to the girl and held her hands.

“What?” The other girl was dumbfounded.

Maleficent chuckled at the reaction “ Would you, Y/n L/n, like to go on a date with me this saturday?”

“Oh my god, I would love to!” Y/n replied, hugging the girl. Maleficent stumbled back a bit, not expecting the hug from the girl but once she gathered herself together, she hugged the girl back tightly.

The sweet moment lasted for a second, before the sound of applause covered the room.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking with me” Maleficent said, irritated at the interruption. Meanwhile, the other girl had completely forgotten about the presence of the rest and grew embarrassed at her actions, so she hid behind Maleficent.

The applause suddenly stopped when Uliana grabbed Hook and Hades by the ears and dragged them out of the room with Morgie following, handing Y/n their homework at the exit.

“I’m so sorry about them” Maleficent apologized, facing the girl who had looked at her with a furious blush on her face.

“Oh, you look so cute, Darling” Maleficent cooed at the girl, causing her whole face to turn red.

“I really really like you, Maly” The girl suddenly said.

Now it was Maleficent's turn to blush.

[nataliawrites]

Crowning Glory // Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Princess of the Netherlands!Reader

Max prided himself on his control. His job depended on it. His life depended on it.

Even when he briefly lost control — and he really doesn’t regret the infamous pushing incident — it was always of his own doing.

Until you came into his life.

A knock on the door to his driver’s room started Max. It was race day and it was rare for him to be bothered when he was preparing on his own. A home race meant that everything was heightened. The adrenaline thrummed deeper. The cheers were louder. The Orange Army was nearly blinding in the stands.

“Max,” the familiar voice of his team principal filtered through the door after another knock, “I have someone who would like to meet you.”

“Can’t we do this later, Christian? I know you know my routine by now.”

“Just open the door. I think you’ll be happy to change up your routine this once.”

Max heaved himself off of the small couch and went to send the Brit and whatever guest he brought along away so he could continue to focus on the race in peace.

He opened the door, prepared to shut it in a second, but stopped short when he saw who was standing next to Christian. The guest in question was wearing an elegant summer dress in a bright shade of orange sure to be similarly reflected upon thousands of Dutch fans around the track.

She was also the subject of his long running teenage crush. A crush he thought he had gotten over until he was staring open-mouthed at her right in front of him.

“Hallo,” she takes the initiative to greet Max considering he was still making somewhat of a fool of himself in front of her, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Max bends into a hasty bow, unsure of the protocols for meeting someone he had only ever seen on the news and the pages of magazines, “Your Royal Highness, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m the one intruding on your preparations,” she waves his apology off. “I just wanted to stop by and wish you luck before the race. It is my first time attending a Grand Prix in-person but my family and I have been fans for a long time and started following your career when news of an incredibly promising young driver racing under the Dutch flag first made its rounds.”

“I-thank you, Your Highness. I am honored.”

“Well, I will leave you to continue getting ready. Mr. Horner promised me a tour of the garage. Good luck again, you do your country proud.”

Max remained frozen in the doorway, watching the heir apparent walk away with the Red Bull team principal, bodyguards seemingly materializing from the walls to surround her as they made their way into a public area of the F1 Holzhaus.

Max managed to get you out of his head once the race began. The second he got into the car, nothing else mattered. Everything beyond the track ceased to exist as he pushed the car to its limit and passed the chequered flag for yet another home win.

But when it came time for the podium ceremony, there you were front and center, ready to present trophies to the three drivers. Max swore he could feel a spark travel up his arm as your fingers brushed his while handing him the trophy. “Well done! Tonight we celebrate.”

Turns out the celebration was a far cry from the ones he was used to. Instead of a club, Red Bull team members were invited to join you at a nearby royal residence for dinner and drinks. Max listened to you explain why from his seat next to you at the long dining table as you waited for the first course to be served, pleasantly warm from champagne already, “I used to love going out. Tried to have a typical university experience, you know? But I was almost kidnapped last year and despite security stepping in on time I have been forbidden from doing so again. Too much risk.”

And there it was. The reminder of just how different your lives wore despite both being Dutch public figures. One day Max will retire and can live a relatively normal life if he so chooses while you will ascend to the throne and lead a kingdom.

He didn’t exactly pity you — royalty was royalty at the end of the day — but he did sympathize with the constraints that it placed on you and how you lived your life.

Max clears his throat, “I’m not exactly sure how this whole thing works but I would love to take you out.”

He waits for a response and nervously cards his fingers through his hair when he doesn’t get one, “only if you want, of course, Your Highness. I have a sailing boat on the coast not too far from here. It’s not a yacht, though you are welcome to join me on that too if you are ever in Monaco, but I promise that it is peaceful and private. I just thought you would like to get away from all this,” he gestures around the room of mingling Red Bull staff and dignitaries, “for a little.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hhmm?”

You ask again, “are you sure?”

“Sure about what? That I would like to take you on a date? Quite sure.”

“Any privacy we have won’t last long.”

“I know.”

“The press can be brutal.”

“So I’ve learned. I don’t particularly care.”

“There are rules …”

“I will learn them.”

“Okay,” you finally allow a shy smile.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Max. I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But if we are to date you have to call me Y/N.”

“Gladly … Y/N,” he tests out how your name feels on his lips for the first time.

“Oh and you will have to meet my parents.”

That gives him pause. “Your parents?”

“Yes.”

“As in the King and Queen.”

“Yes.”

“I have to meet the King and Queen?”

“It’s all still a bit old fashioned, I’m afraid. We will need their approval.”

You’re quick to reassure him when you see how quickly the color drains from his face, “my father is a big Ferrari fan but he has a soft spot for you. You need not worry.”

“Your father is the King.”

“Yes.”

“My King.”

“Yes. And he’s my father. You’ll have to get used to it if you see us going anywhere.”

“Right. Of course …” A few seconds pass. “But he’s the King.”

You pat his hand where it’s splayed on the table, “you’ll be fine.”

[dominadespina]

THE SORROWS OF MILICA NEMANJIC OF SERBIA

Though often remembered for her diplomacy and regency (1389-1393), one thing some sources and historians fail to mention about Princess Milica is her struggles with motherhood and widowhood, even through her politics.

Early Life

Milica was born sometime in 1335 as the daughter of Duke Vratko, known in Kosovo legends as Jug Bogdan, a descendant of the Nemanjić dynasty; however, the identity of her mother is unknown.

In her early years, Milica would often stay at the court of her cousins, Tsar Dušan and Tsaritsa Jelena. The couple took a liking to her, sponsored her stay at court, and provided her education, thus she permanently settled at court.

It is at the same court where she had the opportunity to meet Lazar Hrebeljanović, six years her senior and, at the time, a young man of lower nobility working as a puter/stavilac.

According to a legend, Milica met Lazar at the same place where she would later build the Ljubostinja Monastery.

There could be some truth to this tale, but it is worth noting that they were likely introduced at court by the same couple who planned for them to marry.

Marriage to Lazar

Sometime in 1353, Milica and Lazar were married by the wish of Dušan and Jelena and with the blessing of her father. The mere fact that the imperial couple arranged their betrothal suggests that Lazar was a well-respected man enough to join the Nemanjić dynasty by kinship.

Though the marriage was for political purposes, as it elevated Lazar’s status and reputation, it is understood through Milica’s poem that they had grown to hold deep affection and value for each other.

Through her poem “To My Widow, O Bridegroom,” it can be understood that Milica viewed Lazar as someone she desired, admired, and found comfort and protection in.

It is worth mentioning that Milica was one of the many reasons Lazar (r. 1365-1389) was able to elevate himself to the title of Prince (Knez) and expand his realm. While his rivals claimed the rest of Serbia due to their Nemanjić ancestry, Lazar, who was not one of their own, likely had to rely on his wife and children’s claim to the “holy” dynasty to gain the trust of the Serbian people.

Throughout their 36-year-long marriage, the couple welcomed eight children, five daughters and three sons, though only seven made it to adulthood.

Mara Lazarević (b. 1355 - d. 1426)

Dragana Lazarević (b. sometime after 1355 and before 1364, d. sometime after 1396)

Jelena Lazarević (b. 1364/1365 - d. 1443)

Teodora Lazarević (b. after 1365 and before 1371, d. after 1396 and before 1405)

Olivera Lazarević (b. 1372/1373 - d. after 1444)

Stefan Lazarević (b. 1377 - d. 1427)

Vuk Lazarević (b. 1380 - d. 1410)

Dobrovoj Lazarević (died in infancy)

It seems that the couple enjoyed a harmonious and faithful marriage, as there are no mentions of a mistress or illegitimate children that Lazar could have fathered.

Her Widowhood and Regency

Following the defeat at the Battle of Kosovo in the summer of 1389, Lazar was ordered to be beheaded, leaving behind a venerable realm and his wife at the forefront.

Since his son and heir was too young to be entrusted with the duty of ruling, the Principality of Serbia fell into the hands of the Dowager Princess, Milica.

Though it is possible that Milica might have been educated in diplomacy, she certainly did not have any first-hand experience up until that point. Her primary duties as the wife of a prominent ruler were to expand the dynasty by child-bearing, oversee her children’s education, manage the royal court’s income and expenses, and participate in charities such as hospitals and monasteries—duties in which Milica, as a dutiful mother and consort, excelled.

Constantine the Philosopher described her in the following words: “…pious lady, worthy of glory and wise mother, who surpassed many chosen mothers."

At first, Milica, a fearful mother and mourning widow, wasn’t much interested in staying in Serbia and planned to take temporary refuge with Olivera, Stefan, and Vuk, her youngest children, in Dubvronik, this is evident by a document in which the Senate offered her and her children hospitality.

Unfortunately, her plans had to be annulled as the Hungarians advanced their conquest in the north of Serbia and the Ottomans to the south of it. Thus, her final decision was to stay, and sometime between November and December of that same year, she accepted vassalage to the Ottomans despite the reluctance of many Serbian lords, including her son-in-law, Vuk Branković (through Mara), a decision that would cost the Branković family their lands.

The vassalage included loyalty, taxes in the form of soldiers, and lastly, her youngest daughter, Olivera, to be the wife of the Sultan. All requirements were met, as by the spring of 1390, her daughter was married to the Sultan.

Milica continued to rule over Serbia for three more years, until her eldest son Stefan reached adulthood in 1393. That year, she became a nun under the name "Eugenia," yet she continued to advise her son behind the scenes, as evidenced by her diplomatic mission with her cousin and lady-courtier, Jefimija, to Sultan Bayezid in the spring of 1398 when he suspected Stefan of treason.

The issue was soon resolved, and Stefan was forgiven.

Her Motherly Sorrows Though things seemed to be going quietly from 1398 onward, the peace came to an end in 1402, following the Battle of Ankara.

While her beloved son, Stefan, was able to elevate himself to the title of Despot in Constantinople, her son Vuk, wishing for more territory to rule over, revolted against his brother. Additionally, her daughter Olivera and her granddaughters fell into Timurid captivity.

Milica’s daughter Mara, along with her respective children, developed a vendetta against the Lazarević family, whom they blamed for Vuk Branković’s death.

All these stresses likely prompted her to write her poem “To My Widow, O Bridegroom,” dedicated to her husband, Lazar, in 1402. Amid all the motherly worries and family vendettas, it seems that the memory of her deceased husband was what she found comfort in.

Later Life

When the Ottoman civil war broke out between Bayezid’s sons, Vuk and Stefan found themselves on opposite sides of the conflict, supporting different Ottoman rulers.

Milica was able to reconcile her sons; however, after her death, their bloody feud reappeared.

Milica passed away on November 11, 1405, at the age of seventy and was laid to rest in the Ljubostinja Monastery.

Perhaps in her final days, she was at ease since her daughter Olivera was released, and her sons “ended” their vendetta. However, it seems, based on what happened soon after her death, that they only did so for the sake of their mother.

Legacy

Milica has left her mark on Serbian history, being declared a saint in the Eastern Orthodox Church. Today, many statues, church venerations, and streets are named after her.

Poem of Milica to Her Husband

Who is this?   Speak into my ears.   Is this the one I desired before,   my adornment, the gathering for my scattered children?   Is this the one whom out of envy   the enemies sought to destroy   and keep the light of my sight   in dark dungeons,   and they could not?   Is this the one to my widow, O Bridegroom?   Come, O Bridegroom, come,   and repay those who do me wrong   according to their deeds,   for they did not understand your coming   to my aid.   Take up the weapon and rise, and do not delay!   Strike with sharpened arrows into their hearts,   those who have sharpened them against me, the lawless.   I do not tolerate the mockery of those against me.   With how many vile sacrifices have they defiled me!   Come, avenge me with your blood.   Come, be my support in my downfall.   Gather my scattered children,   whom envy the devil   has torn from me.   Gather them into my fold,   tend to my children,   that the wolf may not eat from my flock,   that envy may not scatter them,   as before, when I was not with them.   Do not let them sleep around you.   Do not let your legs weaken.   Tend to my flock, which I entrusted to you.   Drive away from them the lawless barbarians.   Do not cease to fight with them   for me and my flock.   Rejoice, my eye   that never sleeps, O Lazar.   And again I ascend to the first.   Lazar, who surpasses all stars with his shining,   Lazar, appropriator to foreigners,   preacher of the Trinity,   liberator of the captured.   Lazar, the unwavering pillar of the church,   healer to the sick, clothing to the naked,   Lazar, strong duke to the innocents   and savior.   Rejoice, O Lazar   apostolic, I sing to you,   and again I say: rejoice.   Rejoice, lily that has   sprouted from thorns,   unconquerable weapon for soldiers.   Rejoice, teacher to the hermits.   Rejoice, Lazar, to those who sail,   steersman and calm harbor.   Rejoice, avenger of the oppressed   and denouncer of the deceitful.   Rejoice, comforter of those who weep,   and defender of the poor, and clothing to the naked.   Rejoice, strength of beauty,   and sustainer of widows.   Blessed indeed are you, O Lazar,   bless me who blesses you.   There is no praise that you are not worthy of,   but the mind grows weary...

(Sources: Dve srpske sultanije : Olivera Lazarevic (1373-1444) : Mara Brankovic (1418-1487) by Giljen, Nikola)