violent ends.

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.

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

A Poem Traveled Down My Arm: Poems and Drawings, Alice Walker

[ID: Leonard / was right / to / love / Virginia. Virginia / was / right / to be / insane.]

[mountebanks]

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  .  ″  

[mountebanks]

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​  .

[grendelmenz-deactivated20200929]

some sort of love poem

[mountebanks]

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  

[mountebanks]

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

[soracities]

Reginald Shepherd, “The Friend”

[Text ID: “In the dream I am always posthumous, the sole survivor of myself”]

[mountebanks]

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  .  

[mountebanks]

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  .

[mountebanks]

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

[mountebanks]

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

[mountebanks]

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

[mountebanks]

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

[mountebanks]

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  .  

[my-beautiful-wickedness]

Cersei Lannister in Game of Thrones season three

[mountebanks]

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  .

[typewriter-worries]

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 )