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CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE: JAMES AND MARY EDITION it made me feel uncomfortable in a good way. go read !!
hmm. I wrote something again (about James and Mary this time)
Okay, I did a thing! Little snippet about Mary's death, because I love to suffer.
@acrossthewavesoftime tiny gift for you.
At first, you did not notice me. A playful child, full of hope, mother’s beloved little girl. She, who still wept for her lost ones. Little Charles, James and the ones that will follow. But you do not know it yet. Too carefree. Too enchanted by the world that surrounds you. And mother will not cry in front of you, father will not acknowledge her feelings. You grasped your sister's hand, when they put your siblings one after another into a coffin. Tiny bones and a pale face, fire left their eyes. “They are sleeping, and God will greet them in heaven. It is his will.”, you told her. But she did not understand and started to cry. You hated black. Foremost you hated black on your mother. She did not deserve such sorrow.
“How can someone this graciousdamn her?”, you asked yourself one night after a prayer. A blasphemous thought that you immediately discarded, because everything is God’s will. But do not fret, my love, you will not remember their voice and laughter. Sometimes it is best to forget. But I, dearest Mary, will not leave your side. I was there when your far too young mother took her last rasping breaths. She, who loved you the most. The sixth death in your fledgling life. And not the last one. The day you loathed the way they light candles. I, who cradled you, when you thought about me, as a monstrous being. You have built up a façade. A mask you put on when life strangles you. Like that one fateful day, you had to marry him. So young, so frightened. Fifteen years is not an age one should endure this much. But neither your uncle, the king, nor your father, the duke, cared. Your father almost did my job, you know. You cried like a banshee when you saw your soon-to-be wedded husband. Smaller than you, crooked, with a hooked nose and an ugly moustache. Shipped off to an unknown country with a language you did not speak and a husband who could not love you, yet. And soon you will know how your mother felt when she lost her children. Miscarriage. You have tried so hard, my sweet. Cried and shouted for dear life, your mother, your sister and even your father. All were absent. Even Willem, who should have held you. But no. You met me again. And I almost got you, when I dried your tears and caressed your cheeks. But you grew stronger. And before I knew it, I had lost sight of you. I have met many others in your family. Poor Maria, who wanted nothing more than to join a convent and instead suffered one failed pregnancy after another. The same fate your sister was about to face. I gave the king his last glass of wine. Watched, as the doctors drained him of all his strength, all the glory of Old Rowley, the greatest stallion in the whole of England. But in the end, he has wished for nothing more than to be reunited with his father and lost siblings. Your family was replaced in my hands by lonely soldiers who died fighting for your husband, screaming out for their mothers in their last breaths. I gave them the most tender kiss. Kissed them like Willem kissed you. I admire how you have created love out of estrangement. My soul shattered when I saw your husband crying his heart out. “Nee, niet haar, niet haar alsjeblieft. Ze is nog zo jong!”
I saw how his body cramped, how his breathing became more laboured and convulsive, how he collapsed and was considered dead sooner than you. But, dear Mary, now I am with you again. But you do not detest me like you did the last time we met. You see me as a friend who pulls you into a long-awaited hug and strokes your hair. I dry your tears again, but you cannot stop them from flowing. You once told Willem that you wanted to die sooner than him because you would not be able to bear his death. And here I am, keeping my promise. Your feverish hand touches my cheek, for you know there is no compromise. And you kissed me, like you kissed him in the January rain.
But Mary, do not weep, for I will sing your song.
How does James keep doing this what is wrong with him
I wrote something strange about Mary again. Yes it doesn't make any sense, but don't you want to see her get turned into a boy?
Ok mutuals, here is what's probably going to be my introduction for my AU about James Francis Edward (I haven't got a title for it yet). I ended up just writing this for my Creative Writing class and I think it's okayish hopefully:
"By the grace of Almighty God, the Queen has delivered of a son."
He had been told this was his introduction to the world. His introduction to his birthright and his introduction to the people that would get rid of him and his family.
James Francis Edward knew by heart what happened next, which made his heart break. Soon after his birth, the signal was raised for the Prince of Orange to invade England and depose them. And as soon as that happened, the the people of England, the very people who were meant to rejoice for the newborn Prince had immediately said he was not real. Smuggled in. Through a warming pan of all things.
Maria Beatrice, his mother had been ordered to flee with him by the King. They were banished not long after to Italy, Maria's home country, settling in at the Monastery of Sant'Antonio in Polesine. They were here because they were not allowed to be seen as royal and anyways Maria had planned to become a nun before she was betrothed to the King of England.
The nuns at the Monastery of Sant'Antonio had immediately taken them in as their own, watching the little boy grow up with eagerness. Little Jamie had been raised with a strong faith in God, a well needed relationship. He was now kneeling at the crucifix, praying quietly, murmuring under his breath: "Holy Father, help me, help us all. Help me get my father's throne back, please. I hate what I have caused. Amen." Unable to hear what he was saying, in the background, Maria and two other nuns slipped away into another room. "Your child is so devout, Sister Maria. He prays all of the time."
"I know" came the reply. "Poor little thing. I will wait on him."
She watched her little boy pray for the time being, noting the resemblance between him and his late father - a victim of the axe. Jamie had his stately figure and was rapidly approaching his namesake in height with a big curly wig that definitely showed the resemblance when worn.
Finally, Jamie finished praying, startling as soon as he turned around to notice his mother sitting there, silently gazing at him but immediately recovered and lowered his head into a bow. "Mother" The name came out awkward and unsure of himself and he didn't like that at all. "Mother I haven't kept you waiting have I?" He was now beginning to panic.
How long had she been sitting there?
"Jamie, dear Jamie, don't be silly, of course you haven't kept me. You must always say your prayers daily." The boy immediately walked over to his mother who instantly took his hand into hers - but not after hugging him close to her chest and stroking his hair.
"You are becoming such a handsome young man, my darling" she whispered into his ear. There was a hint of melancholy in her voice and he knew what it was about.
His mother loved him very much, the poor thing. After numerous miscarriages or children not surviving infancy, she had no doubt been overjoyed to be delivered a son. Her husband, James II of England had no doubt been grateful for his heir to come at last. Yet the child didn't feel the same way at all.
I mean, what do you expect, when your very birth caused your family to lose everything?
@unanchored-ship, @defensivelee and @acrossthewavesoftime ask and you shall receive at long last.
Colorblind, Vicente Guerrero
Vicente is known in the army for being a grumpy dude, but someone that also can easily laugh and crack jokes there and then, Vicente is a pioneer LGBTQ+ community member, his mainly why’s of joining the revolution were he was bisexual, black and turns out that is forbbiden, and because he was forced to marry a gay woman.
That gay woman turned into his best friend, but one day she couldn’t handle the pressure and commited suicide.
Vicente never believed in love, until Acatempán and that shy closeted white gay boy, Vicente got kissed and hugged, and he felt the warm of a partner, for the first time in many years.
Ater Acatempán, he started to build a romantic relationship with the former silver coat, candles lit at night, scented like flowers, low soulful disco music, dates down the stars, long talks at night, hugs and kisses.
The first time they arrive at Spain, Agustin’s homeland, the boy introduces his best girlfriend to Vicente’s gay right hand girl. The two gay girls also develop a relationship.
After that, both pairings got the married at the same time, the first ever gay double wedding in Spain! The party was big, Agustin’s father, Apollo, gave a concert the whole night with the migthy help of Ueuecoyotl and the twins (Xochipilli and Xochiquetzal).
The future has a lot to give them, and they wait with joy.
(The wedding thing was idea of @shlavfucker69, and sincerely, best fucking idea of 2k18)
Colorblind, the Silver Coats
The silver Coats are the almighthy army of Zeus, a bunch of white, bigots, homophobic and sexist assholes, who only join for the pure feel of being superior.
Agustin De Iturbide’s Father was a Silver Coat and so were his sons, but Agustin had something special.
As you guys know (or not) in colorblind being LGBTQ+ is illegal and in places like US and the whole silver coat territory there’s racial segregation, everybody who is not white doesn’t deserve to be with the whites.
Agustin is gay, he is fucking gay but nobody knows ultil they sent him to Acantempán, to assist the Blue Coats (Tonatiuh’s army) in a battle against the revolutionary general Vicente Guerrero.
Agustin’s gay ass falls for Vicente’s beautiful human being right there in that milisecond where Vicente kills Agustin’s second, Agustin knows it’s wrong, he is gay and he has fallen for a black male and they were going to kill him for it back home.
Fortunaly for Agustin, James Madison and Laurens recognize a gay when they see him, and they suggest to Vicente to give him a hug, in symbol of peace.
Agustin freaks out and kisses the man in the cheek, and they have confirmed it, Agustin is gay and in love. So Vicente takes him to the revolution, and that’s the moment where he joins the movement, cuz he wants to be gay in peace.
I have had the worst idea for an AU about the Kensington Gang as I call them. It's vile.
Do I share it or do I not??