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the-quiet-winds · 3 years

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I’ll Know My Name as It’s Called Again

Catherine Parr wakes up with her laptop smushed against her face, ass-up in the bed, at half-past eight in the morning.

She groggily looks around her bedroom. Papers are strewn haphazardly around the room, Argyle having made a comfortable nest of them near the wall.

Cathy drags herself off the bed and picks up the cat, cradling him to her chest as she rocks him almost like a baby.

“Another day,” she mumbles down to the Tabby, who makes no indication whatsoever to have heard or understood her.

She sets him down and sets off into the house, where most of the other queens have already gathered.

“Good morning,” she singsongs, settling down for another one of Jane Seymour’s homemade breakfast. It’s the same thing every single day - eggs, toast, and tea. Never deviating, never faltering.

Catherine of Aragon gestures to Cathy’s cheek with concern, which, according to the reflection of a spoon, is sporting a solid outline of the few keys where Cathy’s face had spent most of the night.

Everyone can’t help but laugh.

After breakfast, everyone splits off to get ready to go to the theater. Two show day, after all.

Cathy feels lighter than air as she enters the theater with her girls around her, just like they do almost every day. They’re confident, cool, and ready to dazzle another audience.

With Jane Seymour and Catherine of Aragon next to her, she begins to put on her makeup for the show. Little foundation, little blush, little lipstick, and an ungodly amount of blue glitter.

Where do they get all this glitter from, she can’t help but wonder.

She moves on next to her hair, trying her best to knock a few of the knots out of her curls before sweeping them all up into her iconic “side-poof” as it was called, complete with her crown.

Jane Seymour and Catherine of Aragon are right behind her. Like a well-oiled machine, they all strip down and get into costume with near-perfect synchronization.

The trio step out into the hall at the same time as Anna of Cleves, Anne Boleyn, and Katherine Howard.

Cathy’s smile is insanely bright as they all make their way to the stage, where she can already hear the hum of the audience beyond the curtain.

She grabs her microphone and steps onto the stage, and the show ignites just after.

For the next eighty minutes or so, Cathy is on fire. She dances, jumps, sings, and moves with a vigor she never knew she had until this show.

And the best part, of course, is getting to do it all with her girls.

They end the show in their defiant poses, fists raised and beaming smiles all around. The audience is cheering for them as they all bow and are played off the stage by the band.

As is after every show, Cathy is a bundle of energy, a firecracker waiting to explode. “That was so good you guys!”

It must be the leftover ringing in her ears, because whatever her costars say gets lost in the din.

There isn’t too long before the second show, but Jane Seymour somehow manages to whip up that same fantastic meal as always (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans).

Before Cathy can blink it’s time to perform again. Even with all the exercise she got from the first performance, she feels like a new woman when she steps onto the stage once again.

Once again, the show is flawless. Everyone sounds, dances, and acts amazing throughout the whole performance.

This time, as the band plays the outro, they stay and dance a little on stage, Cathy singing out some nonsensical words as she dances with Catherine of Aragon.

---

Through a camera feed, the pair watch her with interest.

Dancing again, one scribbles down, singing same melody.

Her partner, meanwhile, does his best impression of the melody into the recorder in his hand.

“Subject is expressing excitement over the just-completed performance of her ‘show,’” he says into the recorder. “She is talking animatedly.”

“Subject mentions name ‘Jane Seymour’,” the woman adds, “and thanks her for the dinner she made.”

Carefully, they both observe Subject 1548 as she moves through the padded room. She talks aloud, then stops, nodding along as if someone is talking back. She laughs. She hugs a sandbag she seems to think is another human.

Subject 1548 picks up a foam cube and holds it to her chest, mumbling something about argyle socks.

Finally, Subject 1548 finds her bed in the corner of the padded room and pulls a pillow into her lap, tapping at it furiously as if typing something on a keyboard.

After not too long, she slumps forward, falling asleep on the pillow.

“She has been here for over two years,” the man says, looking over pages of notes and gesturing vaguely to the bin of recorders on the next table. “We are still no closer to figuring it all out.”

“We’ve figured some things out,” his colleague corrects him. “We know who she thinks she is and who she thinks her friends are.”

“But that’s all we know.”

“True,” the woman concedes, “but we can’t lose hope.”

“She’s done the same thing almost every day for two years. I’m surprised we haven’t gone mad yet.”

“If it ever gets too much, you know we can take some time off. Work on other cases.”

The man sighs, running a hand over his face and looking back at the camera feed of the mostly dark room, although the figure of Subject 1548 is still somewhat visible.

“I feel like we’re close,” the woman says. “Maybe if we try changing up the food, or some other stimulation-”

“You know we can’t do that.”

He’s right, and she knows it.

In silence, they shut off the monitors and gather their belongings to leave for the night.

He can’t help but glance over the notes scattered on the table, including the image of Subject 1548 from the day they brought her in.

“What makes a woman believe she’s a reincarnation of a 16th-century queen?” He mumbles aloud. “And why does she think that her husband’s other dead wives are alive too? Why are they in a pop-girl group?”

The woman steps in front of him, blocking his view of the notes. “Let’s get out of here. You need some sleep.”

They part ways for the night, and try as they might, Subject 1548 stays stuck in their minds all the way to their homes.

---

And the next morning, Catherine Parr wakes up with her laptop smushed against her face, ass-up in the bed, at half-past eight in the morning.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #catherine parr #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #anna of cleves #anne boleyn #katherine howard #julie writes #(i don't give a fuck tonight so you guys get this)

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not-a-healthy-human · 3 years

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How functional are the queens as gay queens

AraMour!!!

Lina + Jane = gay disaster + functional gay

Lina panics hard, she's a whipped gay simp that loves her girlfriend so much

Jane knows how to push Lina's buttons and makes her panic harder, yet, she keeps her and herself alive

ParrLyn!!!

Cathy + Anne = gay disaster + gay disaster

Cathy can't stop herself from agreeing to do stupid stuff with Anne, really stupid stuff

Anne gets stupider (not saying she's not smart) when she's with Cathy. You do the math, no one knows how they're still alive

KatAnna!!!

Kat + Anna = functional gay + functional gay

Kat knows her ground, knows how to tease Anna and loves cuddling her for as long as possible

Anna is a sweet bean, she knows how to make Kat feel at ease and is happy to help her with whatever she needs

#six #catherine of aragon six #jane seymour six #anne boleyn six #cathy parr #catherine parr six #katherine howard six #anna of cleves six #parlyn #aramour #katanna #six the musical

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seven-homosexual-dinosaurs · 3 years

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Baby Bo

Anne gets turned into a small child. That’s about it.

Am I projecting my own lisp onto Anne? You bet I am.

“Kitty, love, could you go wake Anne up?”

The queens sat around the dining table, indulging in a quiet breakfast for once. Anne, who had stayed up until three playing video games, slept in for once. Breakfast had progressed fairly smoothly, although the lack of a certain green queen was most definitely unnerving.

Kat got up, grumbling something about ageism that Jane couldn’t quite make out, before heading up the stairs towards the attic.

The queens continued eating once more, Cathy shooting Anna a disgusted look as she piled froot loops and corn flakes onto her pancakes, topping the whole thing off with whipped cream and syrup.

“That’s disgusting,” Cathy stated, inching her plate away from Anna’s.

“You just don’t know how to process this much genius,” Anna countered, taking a bite from her many layered monstrosity. Cathy made a face.

“Genius. Yeah, sure,”

Just as Anna opened her mouth to counter, a loud yell resonated from the attic.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The queens shared a look before wordlessly thundering up the stairs, Catalina leading the pack. Reaching Anne’s room, she threw the door open with a start.

“Kitty, what’s-“

All women froze as they took in the sight before them.

Kat stood before a young girl, eyes wide and terrified. The girl, for her part, didn’t seem too afraid, just curious. Wide, green eyes turned to look at the new arrivals. Dark brown hair fell down past her shoulders, resting on her back. Anne’s light green pyjama shirt hung off her shoulders, looking more like a dress than anything. But there was something about that child, Jane noted, that seemed familiar. Emerald eyes, filled to the brim with mischief and curiosity. The way her tongue stuck out of her mouth slightly as she examined the other queens. Her short, small figure, which remained petite, even as a child.

As the gears turned in her head, Jane felt her stomach drop.

Oh lord.

That’s Anne.

Anne, who’s eyes landed on Catalina and Jane, lit up.

“Caf-er-ine! Jane!”

As she stumbled out of bed towards them, Anna took a step towards Cathy.

“Hey Cath? What the fuck is this?” She whispered, eyeing of the child before them. Cathy simply stared, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Kneeling down to meet Anne, Jane felt her heart swell as Anne gave her and Catalina a toothy grin. Anne or not, this was a child.

“Hello Anne,” she began hesitantly. Oh Lord, how was she supposed to talk to a child again?

Anne simply grinned.

“Hi!” She answered, waving enthusiastically.

Slowly, Catalina knelt down to speak to Anne at eye level.

“Hi Annie,” she began gently, “do you know who they are?” She asked, motioning to the other queens. Peeking around Jane, Anne shook her head no.

“Maybe it’s because she knew Catalina and Jane in her first life?” Cathy wondered out loud, smiling awkwardly as Anne stared at her curiously.

“Jane? Hey Jane?” Anne tugged on Jane’s shirt. Turning to face her, Jane couldn’t help but smile at the little face that greeted her.

“Yes love?”

“What does “fuck” mean?”

Everyone froze as Jane’s face went blank.

“Who taught you that word?” She asked sweetly, sending a shiver down the other queens’ spines. Wordlessly, Anne pointed at Kat, who suddenly found the ground very interesting.

“That,” Jane began sweetly, sending Kat a pointed look, “is a very bad word that Kitty shouldn’t have used. Isn’t that right Katherine?”

“Yeah,” Kat squeaked out, shrinking under Jane’s withering stare. Turning to look past Kat, Anne pointed to Anna and Cathy.

“Who’re they?”

Sharing a look, Anna stepped forwards, followed shortly by Cathy.

“Hey Bo, I’m Anna! This nerd is Cathy,”

“Hey!”

Anne looked up at the two with wide eyes before shooting the two a toothy grin.

“Hi Anna! Hi Cafy!” She lisped, waving shyly. The queens all stood there awkwardly, each at a loss for words. To everyone’s surprise, it was Kat who spoke next.

Crouching down to reach Anne’s eye level, she offered her cousin a small smile.

“Hi Annie, I’m Kitty. But you probably knew that already, you seem like a smart kid,”

Anne nodded shyly, fiddling with Jane’s sleeve.

“Well then, how would you like some breakfast?”

Anne’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

“Breakfast!” She cheered, sprinting past the queens out of the room.

“Anne wait-”

A loud crash rang from the hallway, followed by a semi apologetic “Sorry!” Sighing, Catalina shook her head.

“What are we gonna do with her,”

The queens made their way towards the kitchen, where Anne was already sat on a chair bouncing with excitement. Her chin barely made it over the table as she struggled to reach for utensils to serve herself. Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, Catalina placed two pancakes in front of Anne, dripping some syrup over them before cutting them up and giving them to the newly shrunk queen. With Anne busy with her breakfast, the queens huddled together to talk.

“Alright, why the fuck is Anne a kid?!” Anna whispered, eyes wide and terrified.

Cathy fiddled with her hair anxiously.

“I dunno! I haven’t heard anything about people shrinking in the last five hundred years!” She whispered back, shooting a nervous glance back at Anne, who appeared to be completely covered in syrup now.

“Alright girls, calm down, we’ll figure something out. In the mean time, we just have to take care of her, how hard can it be?”

Catalina was met with blank stares.

“Lina, you and Anne were the only ones experienced with actual children. Me and Jane both died before we got any experience with little kids, Anna got divorced before she could get much experience, and Kitty was younger than Mary when she died. With all due respect, we are royally fucked,” Cathy deadpanned. Jane however, appeared to have a slightly more optimistic attitude.

“Well now is as good a time as any to learn,” she remarked.

Turning back to Anne, the queens watched as she tried balancing her fork on her nose, giggling as it slipped off onto the ground with a clatter.

“Well,” Kat began apprehensively, “I don’t think we’ve got much of a choice,”

#six the musical #six #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #fanfiction #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #little queens #baby bo

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kiarcheo · 3 years

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A Whole New World 2/10

Jane and Kat find out there is more to each other…and to the new world they have found themselves in.

Read on Ao3 too

AN: I have seen Anne’s date of birth ranging from 1501 to 1507, and Jane’s between 1504 and 1509. For the sake of this story I consider Anne born in 1501 and consequently dying at 35, and Jane being born in 1508 and dying at 28.

Kat came back at 18 and Jane at 22, Anna, Cathy and Anne in their late twenties, and Catalina in her early thirties.

——————————————–

It becomes a regular thing. Sometimes it’s a museum Kat has already visited, sometimes a new one on the list she keeps of places she wants to see. They often make a day of it, treating themselves to lunch (usually at Jane’s initiative, since Kat tends to forego eating in favour of whatever has caught her interest), exploring parts of the city unknown to them.

One evening, close to dusk, they are walking through an empty park when Kat stops. ‘Have you ever wanted to try them out?’

‘Try what?’ Jane follows the direction of Kat’s gaze. ‘That?’

‘They look like fun.’

‘They are for children.’

‘Who said that? Besides, there are no children around...’ Kat trails off, eyebrow raised waiting for a response.

‘You know what? Why not?’

Kat lets out a small squeal before grabbing Jane’s hand and dragging her towards the playground.

‘Remember when you said “who said that they are just for children”?’ Jane asks as they are sitting on the platform, feet dangling down, recovering their breath and cooling down.

‘You mean, like, half an hour ago?’

‘Smartass.’ Jane gives her a look, before pointing to a sign. ‘Children’s Play Area. Only children under the age of 12 may use this play area.’

‘Well, technically we haven’t been back for that long?’

Jane shakes her head amused. Kat is so cheeky and she would have never guessed before spending so much time with her.

‘So what was your favourite part?’ she asks after a bout of silence. That is another thing that changed. Before, silent moments were much more common and awkward, now their quiet spells are rarer and yet infinitely more comfortable.

‘You falling off those.’ Kat motions with her head towards the monkey bars, getting a glare in response. ‘What about yours?’

‘The slides, I’d say.’

‘Yeah, they are nice. But too short, don’t you think?’

‘I know, right? By the time you pick up speed, you’re already at the end,’ Jane agrees. ‘They should make them longer. Adult-sized.’

‘Wait!’ Kat whips out her phone. ‘Let me...’

And Jane lets her. She has learnt that Kat's curiosity is insatiable. If she stumbles upon something she doesn’t know or doesn’t understand…she has to look it up. So many times, when their fellow queens mention (usually complain, actually) that Kat is always glued to her phone, Jane has been tempted to tell them that most of the time she is learning something new...but if Kat had not told them – not even if she would probably spare herself their scolding – then it’s not her place to tell them.

‘They exist!’ Kat exclaims angling the screen towards Jane. ‘Look! They even have playgrounds for adults!’

They look together at the photos for a while before Kat taps on a Wikipedia link, her first port of call every time. ‘Amusement parks,’ she starts to read the entry aloud before being interrupted by a text notification popping up on the screen.

Kat groans as she reads it.

‘What?’

‘Curfew,’ Kat sighs. ‘Apparently it’s late and they are wondering why I’m not home yet.’ She knows it’s because they care but... ‘Did you get one too?’

Jane checks her phone. ‘No.’

Kat sighs again. ‘One dies young once and she is forever treated like a baby.’ She notices the look Jane is sending her. ‘Please don’t start.’

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘I can't make a joke that everyone freaks out thinking I’m depressed or having a breakdown or a flashback or something.’

Jane remembers clearly one of those occasions. They had been discussing nightmares and how everyone seemed to have them except Kat, who had commented that perhaps losing her head had meant losing everything that had been inside that too. She also remembers very clearly thinking that the reactions had been a bit disproportionate compared to Kat’s offhand tone and casual demeanour.

‘Sometimes a girl just wants to be self-deprecating. Or joke about her own death without being psychoanalysed and having people wanting to talk about your trauma.’

‘I get it. I said once that I had no time with Edward. I was just...stating a fact. I was not looking for pity or anything. But they tripped over themselves to reassure me that I was still his mother – which of course! – and that I’m still a mother now. And honestly. One has a child once and she is forever just a mother in everyone’s eyes. Don’t get me wrong. I wish I could have seen Edward grow up. Wish I could have been his mother. Properly. But I wasn’t. And out of all of us, I’m the one who had less time with children. Besides you, I was the youngest one to die. So I have no idea why everyone thinks of me as this motherly figure?’

Aware that she has been ranting, Jane chances a look at Kat, who has a peculiar expression on her face.

‘What?’ she asks, feeling self-conscious.

‘I’m just thinking how happy I am that you joined me that day at the museum.’

That had been the true start of their relationship, despite having lived together for many months prior to that.

‘You mean you're happy I caught you sneaking out?’

Jane knows what she means, though. They would have never thought, and even less found, they had so many things in common. Or that they could get along so well and have so much fun together.

‘I was not sneaking out.’

Jane merely looks at her.

‘I thought nobody was home. It was just out of habit.’

‘So all the other times you sneaked out.’

Kat doesn’t reply, knowing Jane is doing it just to annoy her. They had a similar talk the second time they went to a museum together, Jane asking why they were sort of hiding their trip. It was not that Kat thought they would stop her if they knew she was going out. But she just didn’t want to deal with their questions. About where she was going, why, why she was going alone, when she was coming back...Just easier to leave without them knowing and then simply tell them she had been out if they asked having noticed she had not been home. In their defence, they knew better than to pry and as long as she was home safely, they would let it go despite being curious.

‘I know you’re the one in charge of our museum days,’ Jane starts, ‘but I wanted to run an idea by you.’

‘Of course we can go to a museum of your choice. You don’t need to ask permission or whatever.’

‘Wait before agreeing.’

‘Is it the Tower?’ Kat winces with a grimace, trying to think of places still standing that Jane might be wary of asking her to visit.

Jane stops rummaging in her bag, her head shooting up. ‘What the fuck, Katherine??’

The younger girl is so lost in unpleasant memories that she doesn't even react to Jane’s swearing nor her full naming her. ‘Hampton Court?’

‘Why would I ever do something like that?’ Jane recoils. ‘God, no! The Clink.’

‘As-’

‘The prison! Not the-’

‘Brothels?’ Kat completes, eyebrow raised in amusement. Then she nods, almost to herself. The area had been known for two main things…the prison and for allowing usually forbidden activities.

‘Yes. I mean, they made a prison museum. You know I like true crime and–’

Yes. That had been a surprise. When Kat had asked if there was something she particularly enjoyed reading and learning about, like she loved history, that had definitely not been the answer she had expected. Jane must have known that, considering how much she hummed and hawed before caving after Kat had called bullshit – literally – on her non-committal answer.

‘–I think I’d like to– but I don’t want to, like, trigger you?’

‘What’s inside, exactly?’

Jane finally finds what she has been looking for in her bag and hands her a leaflet.

‘You know what?’ Kat takes a look at it. ‘We can go and you can...scout it out?’ She doesn’t see anything upsetting in the pictures, but there will be so much more in the museum that they can show in a single leaflet. ‘You can take a look before me and if you think there is something that might…disturb me, you tell me and I’ll skip that room?’

‘Really?’

‘I mean, you know I'm not too fussed about death and stuff like that as long as it’s not too bloody. Or neck-related.’

She is not too keen on watching documentaries with Jane, but she doesn’t mind listening to her talking about them. Or about whatever serial killer or unsolved crime she is currently reading about.

‘Thank you.’ Jane squeezes her arm, hoping Kat knows it’s not about agreeing to her request, but for her trust. ‘On an unrelated note...food?’

Jane’s constant preoccupation with food is another thing put down to her supposedly maternal instinct, a desire to make sure everyone is well-fed. The truth is…Jane loves eating. Being able to enjoy doing so without the ever-present worry of looking unladylike. Discovering new foods. She doesn’t eat a lot, but she needs to eat often, or she becomes…hangry, it’s what Kat called it. And it is only polite to ask if the others are feeling peckish too and want to join her. Moreover, she knows it’s one thing she can’t rely on Kat for, seeing as she is prone to skip meals if there is anything else she deems more important or interesting.

‘Do you think Catalina would consider this as traditional local food or...?’ Jane wonders aloud as she dips the churro in the plastic pot holding the chocolate sauce.

‘Possibly? Even if they were not invented by Spanish shepherds but brought by the Portuguese from China like some say, I think everyone agrees that by the 16th century they existed in Spain. And look, Romans had fried pastry, so, if not exactly that, something similar. And naturally cacao came to Europe after the Spanish invaded the Americas, so it arrived in Spain first, although if it was just after Cortés, Catalina would have been already in England…so she might have never tried churros with chocolate? Not sure when they started to combine the two, to be honest…’ Kat trails off. ‘What?’

‘Next person who says you’re stupid, I’ll deck them.’

Kat chuckles, bumping her hip into hers. ‘I appreciate the offer.’

‘It’s not an offer, it’s a promise.’

‘Ever thought about getting a car?’ Jane asks after they have been walking for a while.

‘Why? Tired? But not really. Honestly just the idea of getting into one and driving it myself is kind of terrifying.’

Jane nods. It sounds a bit like airplanes for her. It still boggles her mind that humans can fly. And she knows they are mostly safe and all, but it doesn’t mean she is keen on trying them out for herself.

‘I thought about getting a bicycle and learning how to ride,’ Kat continues.

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Yeah, and where would I hide it?’

‘Why would you need to hide it?’ Jane is puzzled enough to ignore Kat’s tone verging on the sarcastic rhetorical question inflection that usually implies someone had just asked a very stupid question.

‘With the potential of me getting hurt? Straying away, getting lost, or whatever? I don’t know if you have noticed, but the others tend to be a bit overprotective.’

And a bit is a euphemism. Don’t get her wrong. It is nice to have people caring and worrying about her. But she spent a lifetime fending for herself. And yes, she had her struggles, and the end might have been inglorious, but Anne wound up the same way and yet nobody questions her…or her capabilities. And okay, that might have something to do with age, but nobody cared about that before, and she had been a bloody queen (and quite a successful one, if she says so herself, at least before her past caught up with her)! Still, she doesn’t want to think how worse it would be if she had come back younger than she had been at the time of her death like the others did.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Jane asks, realising she is miles away, lost in thoughts.

‘How weird it would be if we had come back the same age we died. Well, besides me, obviously.’ She hopes she’ll be there to see it in person, but she can’t really think about Catalina as a 50-years-old woman or Anna in her forties. ‘And about how there is a fine line between heart-warming care and overbearing concern.’

Because, back to the point, she might have been more or less successful, but she is used to rely just on herself and getting by, not to have four other women, Jane to a lesser extent, being overly concerned about her. For certain matters, at least. Because for other things they seem perfectly happy to…perhaps not ignore her, but surely leave her to her own devices, without trying to get her involved. And she is often more than content with it, she will admit that…except that often it also leads to remarks about how she spends all her time at home, always in front a screen, and perhaps she should go out more? And then instead of standing up all night on her phone, she would tire herself out and sleep?

‘So you don’t want to check this out?’

Kat had not even realised they were walking past a sporting goods store.

‘Look! You could easily hide that.’ Jane points out to a small, colourful, tricycle, clearly meant for children.

‘Ah ah. Very funny.’ Sarcasm is heavy in Kat’s voice, but she follows her in.

‘What about this?’

‘A unicycle? Really? Have you ever seen one of those around, in public?’

Jane takes a moment to think about it. ‘Don’t think so.’

‘Exactly. Because they belong in the circus.’

‘One might say our house is a circus.’ They certainly have some chaotic days.

‘And you a clown.’

Jane gasps in mock offence. ‘I miss the days when you were afraid of me.’

‘I was never afraid of you. I was indifferent. And thought you were a stuck-up bore. Also, I know you don’t miss it.’

‘True,’ Jane admits easily. ‘Joking aside. We could put them in the shed?’

She had said once that she didn’t mind taking care of the garden and suddenly she had been left in charge of it, gardening apparently a passion of hers she didn’t even know she had. She supposes that it was deemed an appropriate hobby for boring old plain Jane (and yes, the fact that it is her actual name and not just a phrase in her case does not escape her), just like embroidery. She enjoys both of them, sure, but she is fairly confident the others think that’s all she does, no other interests – oh wait, there is cooking, or at least making sure that everyone is eating too! – which is something she tries not to dwell on too much because that’s frankly a bit (or a lot, depending on how she feels on the day) insulting.

‘We? Them?’ Kat raises an eyebrow. ‘But yes, we could store them there, but not really hide them if anyone happens to look inside. And certainly not two of them.’

Still, they continue to peruse the store.

‘What about these?’ Jane calls Kat’s attention, holding a pair of rollerblades up. ‘I’ve seen kids with them, can’t be that hard, can it?’ she continues once the girl comes over, looking interested.

‘Shoes on wheels? We’re so gonna die.’

Jane starts to put them back, slightly dejected, but Kat snatches them up. ‘Let’s do this.’

‘Yeah?’ She looks at her, tentative grin on her face.

Kat nods with gleeful smile. ‘Absolutely.’

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical #jane and kat #six fanfiction #fic: a whole new world #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #mywork #six jane seymour #six katherine howard #six fic #six the musical fic #my ideas #six writing #my six posts #sixfic #my posts

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themidnight-ghost · 3 years

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Try

Chapter One |

Anne Boleyn lost everything when she accidentally resurrected Henry VIII. Now it's all up to her to fix her mistakes, but hopefully, she won’t have to do it alone.

When Catherine Parr walked downstairs that morning, she was met with the now-familiar silence and uncomfortable energy lurking around the breakfast table.

“Is everyone okay?” Cathy whispered to her Godmother as she turned on the coffee machine.

“It’s been a week, and Kat refuses to come out of her room.” The survivor chewed her bottom lip, “Anna believes it’s her fault for being so neglectful and won’t even mention her name. Jane is furious, not to mention depressed! And I’ve just ordered an extra security lock and one of those camera doorbells.” Catalina gestured to her iPad.

Cathy collected her coffee, “And has anyone seen Annie?”

“Anne.” Jane corrected from across the table. Her eyes were red and puffy.

“No one’s seen her since the incident.” ‘Lina placed a comforting hand on Cathy’s arm,

“Forget about her, Cathy. She’s probably off galavanting with Henry in malibu.”

Cathy’s blood boiled at Jane’s comment and her hands balled into fists, “You can’t say that.”

“Oh, can I not?” Jane sassed, “She had a choice of everyone! Mae, Liz, Mary and Eddie, but instead she chose the scumbag who got us here in the first place!”

“There should be a reason!” Cathy argued back.

“Then, what was it? What was worth losing everything?”

And with that, Jane Seymour stormed up to her room, only stopping to pull down a framed photo of the 6 queens at Disneyland from the wall. Anna of Cleves looked apologetically at both Catherine’s and followed Jane, resting the picture on the kitchen table as she left.

That night, Cathy slept alone again. She would usually try to get some sleep before a 2-show day, but the thought of Anne kept her head buzzing. The writer couldn’t help but wonder where her ex-girlfriend was, why Anne betrayed them or if she was ever coming back. The constant questions spiralled and confused the usually logical queen, forcing her to groan into her pillow. She still remembered the day when everything fell apart.

Anne rushed into the writer’s arms with tear-stains carved into her makeup. The Boleyn girl cried until her voice was hoarse and when she finally began to tell Cathy what she’d done - it was too late. A rough knock came from the door, and Jane opened it to reveal their ex-husband, resurrected. Anne burst into a fit of tears and screams as she clawed onto Cathy’s jumper in fright as Henry approached them, a merciless grin on his face.

Nothing had changed.

Anne eventually let go of Cathy, backing herself into a wall. Cathy still cringes at what Henry did next. The monarch stroked Anne’s cheek with his thumb, wiping off a tear.

No one helped her.

“Thank you, my dear.” Henry’s voice was deep, raspy and echoed off the house walls.

“You helped him?” Jane stated.

“He forced me!” Anne was on the verge of a panic attack.

“The universe gave her a choice,” Henry butted in, “Me, Mary, Elizabeth, Edward or Mary. She chose me.”

“You choose who you could resurrect?” Jane’s shout almost tore the house down.

“He- we- we had a plan-” Anne could barely speak, she trembled and clawed at her sides while attempting to back herself further into the wall. She could scarcely breathe between her tears.

“Jane wait-” ‘Lina grabbed the mother by her arm, pulling her away from the Boleyn girl.

Amongst the chaos, Henry snuck out the door. Anna of Cleves tried to contain herself as she comforted a sobbing Katherine Howard. Catalina and Jane were at each other’s throats about Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Parr just stared at the mess of a person she used to call her girlfriend.

The next morning, Anne’s bed was found empty, and most of her belongings had been taken away. The house was never the same after that. Henry was back, Anne was lost, Jane was mourning, Kat was scared, Anna felt guilty, Catalina didn’t go to church and Cathy was single.

Back in bed, the writer had just learnt to live with it, she concealed her thoughts and fears into writing and tried to trick her mind into thinking this was only temporary.

“Tomorrow will be different.” The writer murmured.

Tomorrow was different. The queens would do their first show as a group since Anne left and Anna somehow forgot to get oat milk before heading to the theatre.

“I’ll go get it, I need to clear my head anyway.” Cathy grabbed the spare keys, getting a headstart. The writer cautiously headed to the nearest tube station and took a metro to oxford street. Most of the queens drank oat milk because it was healthier and they didn’t want Kat to feel left out, so Selfridges was visited regularly on weekends.

Walking down the road, Catherine noticed something peculiar. A homeless woman was sleeping on the pavement, her back propped up against the building’s wall; she was covered in blankets.

Anna co-owned a business with Kat where they helped the homeless get back on their feet, and this often resulted in the queens knowing all of them by name. But this woman was different, and Cathy didn’t recognise her.

“Hello?” The writer cautiously approached, “Have you been here long-?” Cathy gasped when she registered the ebony hair which framed the woman’s face. “Annie?”

The 6th queen crouched beside the sleeping clump, carefully pulling back the hem of the blanket so she could see the owner’s face and her fear was confirmed right. Anne’s lips were chapped, there was dirt on her face, the faint remains of a bruise on her left eye and a cut on her chin.

Cathy entered a state of crisis. She still loved Anne, but she couldn’t forgive her for what she did. But then again, was she really going to let her rot on the side of the road? No one deserved that.

The Boleyn girl stirred in her sleep, and Cathy instinctively placed a small hand on her shoulder, “You’re alright.” She whispered, and Anne’s body relaxed.

Cathy felt around for her wallet and pulled out two £20 notes, proceeding to stuff them into Anne’s hood. She took one last look at the remains of Anne Boleyn before kissing her middle and index fingers and resting them against Anne’s shoulder as a goodbye. Cathy then pulled back the blankets and walked in the other direction. The oat milk could wait.

During the next few days, Cathy always passed Anne’s street corner on her way to the theatre, making it her mission to leave small amounts of cash in the 2nd queen’s hood.

On the fourth day, Cathy returned to see Anne awake and drinking something from a flask. Thinking fast, the writer pulled over a stranger and pressed the cash into their hand,

“Please can you give this to the homeless woman on the street corner?”

“I beg your pardon?” The stranger twirled the cash between her fingers,

“Would you mind giving that to the homeless woman?” Cathy pointed at Anne, “I used to know her and I’ve been stopping by every day to give her small amounts of cash.” The stranger looked doubtful, “Please?”

“You’re doing a good deed.” The stranger reluctantly accepted, and Cathy spied from behind a telephone box as the stranger crossed the road and handed Anne the cash. The 6th queen grinned as Anne almost dropped her flask to shake the stranger’s hand, the words ‘thank you’ escaping her mouth multiple times.

However, Anne’s face dropped slightly as the woman shook her head and gestured to the surrounding area, and Cathy couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. But at least Anne had something to eat that night.

The cycle continued for weeks. Anne was dropped secret amounts of cash from random strangers each day until Catherine finally decided to face her fears.

The survivor had just ordered a pair of sausage rolls from Greggs, and it took everything in her not to turn back. Cathy felt like she was walking in slow motion as she approached, her heart was thumping in her ears way too much, and she clenched her jaw. What if Anne didn't want to see her again? There had to be a reason for her continuous absence and even worst, what if Henry was lurking in the bins.

“Annie?” Cathy’s voice was barely a whisper as Anne whipped her head around, her jaw-dropping.

Both queens starred in silence before Cathy inaudibly handed Anne the sausage roll, sitting beside her on the pavement.

“Thank you.” Anne tensed her shoulders and hid her face, “I wish you didn’t see me like this.”

“It’s alright.” Cathy awkwardly assured, “Is it warm enough?”

“It’s great, thank you.” The conversation was horribly formal. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“A few weeks ago I went to buy some oat milk and passed you. I’ve been leaving cash in your hood.”

Cathy swore she could see Anne tear up.

“That was you?”

“Yeah, sorry if it was weird.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciated those! With that money, I brought a flask, gloves, a new coat, blankets and even a sleeping bag!” Cathy tried to stifle a laugh as Anne showed off her possessions with pride, “And next, I’m gonna buy a tent! So, thank you, Cath.”

The nickname struck a nerve and Cathy tried not to cry as she finished her sausage roll.

“Is there anything I could bring you tomorrow?”

“Deodorant!” Anne quipped,

A smile graced Cathy's face, even after so long the pair fell back into their casual conversation as nothing had happened. So much had changed but their relationship was still stable as both queen's pushed past their doubts in exchange for an unfamiliar feeling of home and familiarity.

“Yeah, but you’ve always needed that!” Cathy fired back. Anne dramatically gasped and held a hand to her chest. “Seriously though, what do you need?”

“You’ve done too much for me already.” The Boleyn girl grasped Cathy’s hand before she could go. “It would be rude to ask for me, especially after… well, you know what. So thank you.”

“Anytime.” Anne’s hand lingered longer than necessary, and in any other circumstance, Cathy would’ve kissed Anne’s knuckles and told her she loved her. Instead, Anne let go, and they parted ways until the next day.

_______________

It got to the point where Cathy would leave the house an hour early to see Anne.

The lonely, gay, writer leaves her found family to pick up the pieces from her ex-girlfriend’s destruction while she shares a sausage roll with said ex. It sounds like a news header.

Every other day, Cathy would supply Anne with the daily essentials and Anne would take her on a walk around London, showing her all the city’s secrets.

Like the money, this continued until Cathy saw Anne packing up her belongings and blankets.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re moving me. They want me gone by the end of the day because it looks bad for their brand.” Anne explained.

“Who? Selfridges?”

Anne nodded solemnly.

“We are never buying from them again. Come on, you can stay with me.” Cathy picked up a blanket.

“You know I probably have fleas, right? There’s this homeless man who I’m friends with, and his dog is always scratching. I can’t stay at your house.” Anne grabbed the blanket from Cathy’s hands.

“We have flea spray at home from when Kat found that puppy.” Cathy snatched the blanket back.

“Have you forgotten the four people living there who hate me? One of them is my cousin.” Anne claimed the blanket.

“Big deal, don’t think I haven’t noticed those bruises on your neck and wrists. I know what you’re doing. 40 quid a week isn’t enough to buy a tent, Anne.”

The energy dipped and reclaiming the blanket was annoyingly easy.

The Boleyn girl hushed her voice and twiddled her thumbs, “That was uncalled for.”

“Please?” Anne practically melted when Cathy cupped her cheek, “Come home with me.”

“Okay.”

Smuggling a gremlin into the house was more problematic than Cathy thought. Anne had to wait in the garden until the queens had gone to bed and then climb up into Cathy’s window without making a sound.

“Put your leg up!’ Cathy whisper-shouted.

“Do you really think I'm THAT flexible?!” Anne laughed, “I haven’t done the splits in 5 weeks!”

“Lower your voice, you crackhead! Jane is right below us.”

“Oh, fuck Jane!” Anne winked at Cathy who almost dropped the Boleyn girl back onto the grass.

“Just pull!”

Finding strength, Cathy pulled Anne through the window, so she landed on top of her, the pair erupting into fits of laughter.

“I swear someone would’ve heard that!” Anne worried,

“Holy mother of god- you do stink!” Cathy slid out from under Anne and closed her nose.

_______________

“Do you still have that coconut shampoo?” Anne fidgeted around their bathroom, liked she belonged there.

“It should be under the sink.” Cathy scrolled through her phone.

“I still don’t get why you have to be in here,” Anne muttered.

“Because someone has to be in a bathroom for it to be locked! That’s just basic knowledge!” Cathy glanced up from her phone as Anne removed her top, “besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“You’re lucky I’m only letting that comment slide because I haven’t felt hot water in weeks.”

Cathy knew she shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from wincing at the bruises on Anne’s back.

“How’d you get those bruises?”

“Looking already, are we?” Anne turned the shower on.

“I’m just curious.”

“I was given the last packet of socks at the homeless shelter, and some dudes were pretty desperate. Which is stupid because I would’ve given them a pair if they’d asked.”

The writer nodded but needed to ask one last question.

“What about the cuts on your arm?”

“What cuts.”

What should’ve been a question came out as a statement, and Anne quickly ended their conversation. Still, that didn’t stop Catherine from eying the vertical cuts above Anne’s wrist which were carved into her skin like the scar on her neck.

Cathy stayed silent for the remainder of Anne’s shower. The stream of water calmed her, and the steam put her muscles at ease. Anne hummed the faint tune of a lullaby, and for once, everything was back to normal.

Anne was sunk back into Cathy’s room smelling of strawberries and coconut, they sprayed flea killer on almost all of Anne’s belongings (despite Cathy’s protests). Before ending the night on Cathy’s carpet eating ice cream and watching Tangled.

Once Anne had passed out on the writer’s shoulder, she began scribbling down her thoughts in her notebook:

‘Why do we fall in love so easily? Even when it’s not right? I don’t know how it all turned to lies, and sometimes I think it’s better to never ask why. And even though Anne hurt me, I can’t help but forgive her.’

☁️ I hope you liked... the first 3 chapters are already on ao3 but i figured i’d post to tumblr too! Let me know about tag lists! xx ☁️

#parrlyn #anne boleyn #catherine parr #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #anna of cleves #katherine howard #parrleyn #six the musical #six #fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #parrlyn fanfiction #parrlyn fanfic #anne boleyn x catherine parr #six queens

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kristen-likes-music · 3 years

Text

Four times And got in trouble and one time Cathy did

Just found this little thing that I wrote during classes last week, I haven't proof-read it very well so sorry for any errors.

TW: they break the law I guess

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Anne Boleyn didn’t always think before acting. It was normally minor things, jumping off something or other and injuring herself, agreeing to dares that she should not have done, just little actions like that. But sometimes, she had landed herself into bigger troubles.

The first time honestly hadn’t been her fault- they should have put a sign or something up on the fence. How was she supposed to know it was trespassing?

Still, Catalina didn’t buy any of it.

She had been out in town shopping for presents to get the queens when a rather large gust of wind combined with a light bag and a low wall led to Cathy’s new hoodie getting stuck in a prickly bush outside the abandoned Scouts building. No-one had been watching when Anne climbed over the wall, and she really hoped nobody had seen her fall off it. Unfortunately, however, someone saw her jump back over and called the police.

Who actually cared about that abandoned bit of land anyway?

The second time… She may have been guilty. But, as she argued to Jane, if she knew how to drive the go-carts at the fairground how different could a car be?

It was only a quick trip to pick Kitty up from her shift at the dog shelter. The queens who could actually drive (Lina, Jane and Cathy) were all busy, and they weren’t bothered about petting the dogs- which Anne couldn’t believe. True, Anna would’ve gone, but she always picked Kat up, and she couldn’t’ve taken the car so it would take longer. However, as it turned out, cars were a bit harder than go-carts to drive. And apparently a lot easier to break.

Insurance would pay for it, right?

The third time was entirely her responsibility. But the film was good and it was worth it. Although Anna seemed to disagree (although that may have been because she wasn’t allowed to tag along).

Anne had been wanting to see the film ever since the first trailer. It had been showing in cinemas for a while now, and Anne was determined to see it at least once before it closed and she would have to resort to piracy other means. She had asked Jane, although the response hadn’t been the one Anne was hoping for. It’s not her fault she was broke. Anne had never been caught before (not that she had ever snuck into a cinema before, never), but there was a first time for everything. And she was running out of people to bail her out.

But the film had been so good, surely it was worth it?

Her only excuse for the fourth time was that no one could resist Kat’s pout. Honestly. Cathy did know this was true but didn’t want to admit it to her girlfriend as she was just as whipped by Anne.

Kat had been the one who wanted to go shopping anyway. Anne just went along because she was bored and Lina had asked someone to make sure Kat didn’t spend all her money. It hadn’t been the best idea for the person who was already skint to enforce that and Kat had ended up with a handful of spare change that probably wouldn’t total a pound and seven full bags. But there was just space for a small plush octopus- both cousins agreed that it was a very necessary purchase. Not that they had enough money to purchase it.

Weren’t they helping by not conforming to capitalism?

Cathy hadn’t meant to get in trouble. She did have a reason, not that Anne was listening to anything being said (“honestly, Anne, I didn’t laugh when it was you). It wasn’t that much of a big deal, was it? She didn’t know that it was a crime- well, she might have done but it wasn’t an important one.

One of Cathy’s favourite things about the modern world was its libraries. Book-covered aisles that she loved to get lost in. And, in contrast to her previous life, she was allowed in. She wasn’t allowed to read with Henry, in case she showed the illiterate fool up, she supposed. But now, she had as many books as she liked just round the corner. But there was a catch- you could only take out eight at a time.

There probably were other options, making a fake ID may not have been the best way to go, but it worked for a while.

And what’s life without a few risks?

#six the musical #anne boleyn six #cathy parr six #Catherine of Aragon six #jane seymour six #anna of cleves six #kat howard six #six fanfic

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maxiskindahere · 3 years

Text

Marry me? - Araleyn

In which Anne Boleyn finally asks Catalina De Aragon, or Catherine of Aragon, to marry her.

Love November week 1!!

edit: i’ve changed it to updates once a week due to issues in my personal life

i sorry

hopefully i’m consistent with this one-

at the time of writing its 2:32am so i’m gonna post immediately after to see how long it took me to write this-

Today was the day.

Today was finally the day, Anne Boleyn would ask her girlfriend, of three years, to marry her.

Anne had first gone to Cathy to ask for permission, still being stuck in the olden times, and of course, Cathy said yes and even offered to help pick out rings.

Anne decided on a rose gold ring with a diamond placed in the center, hoping that Lina would like it.

The other Queens, excluding Cathy of course, had no idea what was going on, so when Anne pulls out a ring during a random game of 20 questions, they couldn’t help but scream in happiness

“Well.. if it isn’t obvious, my question has more than one parr-t.” Anne says, making a pun as she looks towards Cathy who laughs

“Lina, I know we have a lot of history, or as Cathy calls it ‘herstory’, especially given our ex husband, which by the way is kinda weird, like we are all now fucking gay, like holy shit.. but anyways...” Anne rambles as she goes to continue

“No matter what I done to you in our past lives, you found it in yourself to forgive me, which is mind blowing, but i’m so glad you did. You make me so happy, words can’t even describe it. I know because of him you have times where you wonder if i’m going to leave you, so take this as insurance that for as long as I will live, you are never, ever, getting rid of me.” Anne smiles at her girlfriend who was now crying

“I love you so much, mon amour, will you do me the absolute honour of being your wife and make me forever the happiest woman alive?” Anne finally asks as Catalina tearfully nods, quickly pulling Anne into a deep kiss

As the two pull away, Anne places the ring on Linas finger, and looking at Cathy who smiles at her “See, you had nothing to worry about!” Cathy reminds the girl, as Anne laughs “wait, Anne you told cathy but not me?” Kitty asks with a frown

“Anne asked me for permission to ask Lina, it was kinda sweet, considering how she whipped out a powerpoint on why she is the best person for her to marry in this life.”

Trying out a new writing style

kinda like it 👀👀

it took me 10 minutes to write this-

it’s short i apologise e

happy november kids:)

#musicals #broadway #theatre #six #six the musical #love november #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #araleyn

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janeyseymour · 4 years

Text

I’m Sorry

Jane Seymour went through life passively. Almost too passively. She often found herself apologizing for things she most certainly shouldn’t be apologizing for.

Jane Seymour had always been quite a passive person. It made sense. In her past life, she was known as the loving and devoted wife. There was a reason for it. She hadn’t interfered with her husband’s affairs. The one time she had, she was quickly reminded of her predecessor’s fate. She quickly apologized for it.

Even when she was a child in her past life, she was very much a passive person. Growing up with nine other siblings, she was always the quietest and often perceived as the kindest. She held herself to this standard that she had been given, oftentimes getting the short end of the stick but never minding too much.

As time went on living with the queens in their reincarnated state, she found herself falling into old habits again. Some were wonderful. For example, she had taken up needlework and embroidery again, something she had loved in her past life. Her skills were still just as wonderful and only improving. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the other queens to curl up next to her as she worked. It also wasn't an uncommon occurrence for any of the queens, but specifically Katherine, to be walking around in something that Jane had added an embroidery to herself.

And as time continued on, she had been labeled “mom friend”. Being labeled as this wasn’t a bad thing; no, the third queen was, in fact, overjoyed to be able to put her maternal instincts to good use. Some of the other queens, specifically Anne and Katherine, were in need of somebody to look over them, and Jane was more than happy to be that person for them. She was more than happy to speak up for her, who she lovingly referred to as, her children. The issue?

In this life too, she had become quite passive. After being reincarnated and given back her memories, she made a promise to herself that she would be bolder and more outspoken. In a way, she was bolder and more outspoken. She was more than happy to stand up for her children, telling others just how wonderful each of the other queens were. She was more than happy to do something small like go back through the drive thru window at McDonald’s for Anne because they didn’t give her the right amount of chicken nuggets. But, she refused to do any of this for herself. The show they were starring in now was a wonderful example of this. Jane Seymour was about to stand up for herself in the show, and she had even gotten comfortable with lashing out on stage at Catalina at this point. She was hidden behind her armor of sequins and make up though. But, the Jane Seymour the public saw on the stage was not the Jane Seymour that she was in real life.

In real life, the third queen was much quieter, and happy to be so. She went through life quietly and flew under the radar most days, and this was received in interviews she had been forced to do for the show. The others were quite happy to use their voice to express their opinions and views on the world as well as post quite often to social media while the third queen could almost always be seen listening, nodding along, or just watching the chaos that had been posted.

She was scared. She was scared of what the world would think of her if she had voiced her opinion because in her past life she wasn’t allowed to do so. In her past life, her fate could’ve been the same as Catherine of Aragon’s, or worse yet, Anne Boleyn’s. Now, she knew that in this life she wouldn’t be beheaded, but she had seen some of the fire other celebrities had faced because they vocalized their thoughts.

And so, even when cameras were off and there were no spotlights following her, she kept her head down when it came to vocalizing her opinions, and she often apologized for things she most certainly shouldn’t have been apologizing for.

On most of their off days, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for the girls to be spread out around the house or the town. Catalina, Jane, and Cathy were mostly around the house entertaining themselves in various ways. Anne and Anna were almost always out, claiming they needed to see the world and discover the chaos they could bring to the world without being beheaded.

“Just don’t get arrested,” Jane called earlier as they walked out the door. “Again.”

“You know I can’t promise that Janey,” Anne cackled.

“I’ll try to keep us out of that much trouble,” Anna called over her shoulder as she closed the front door.

Katherine was unpredictable. Some days, she preferred to go out and complete what the six had lovingly nicknamed “The Chaotic Three”. Other days, she preferred to stay in and read with Cathy or watch television with Catalina. The days that were most often seen, though not by much, were the days where Katherine chose to curl up next to the blonde while Jane either read, watched television with Catalina, or worked on her embroidery.

That day, Jane was working on yet another needlework quietly on the couch with Katherine, someone who she now referred to as her daughter, curled up against her.

“Mom?” Jane was very focused on this difficult work and was caught up in it, not responding. “Mom?” The pink haired queen tried again. Jane stayed silent again, this time her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth slightly in concentration. “Mom?” Nothing.

“Jane Seymour, your daughter is trying to get your attention,” Catalina sighed from the other side of the couch and not looking away from the program on the television.

“Oh!” Jane snapped up. “Sorry Lina.”

“No need to apologize, just trying to help you out.”

She set the needlework on the side Katherine wasn’t occupying and turned her attention to the girl.

“I’m so sorry Kitty. I guess I just got a bit distracted with my embroidery. I’m sorry love. What’s up?”

“Mom, you don’t need to apologize.”

“I-” Jane was caught off guard. She didn’t need to apologize? “I’m sorry. What can I do for you sweet?”

“I just wanted to know what you were working on. You seemed really focused. It was kinda cool.”

“Oh, just another little something for you.”

“Wait really?” Katherine perked up. She loved the things Jane had added onto her clothing, often intricate patterns and flowers and other times small patches to cover the holes she had accidentally created. “Do I get to know what it is?”

“Nope!” Jane popped her ‘p’. “Sorry love.”

“Don’t apologize! I’m just excited to see it!”

There it was again. Don’t apologize. Surely, this was confusing. Why wasn’t she supposed to apologize for this? Surely, she was supposed to apologize for her wrongdoings, and keeping a secret from her beloved daughter was clearly wrongdoing. Nevertheless, she shrugged it off and continued on with her day.

The third queen was currently doing laundry, and wasn’t able to see where she was going when Anne, their local gremlin, had heelied into her and made her drop the basket.

“Oh sorry Anne! I didn’t realize you would be there!”

“Jane, why are you apologizing? I hit you!” The girl with space buns cackled and began to pick up the clothes on the floor.

“I was in your way?” Jane stated this more as a question.

“If anybody was in anybody’s way, it was Anne,” Parr noted without looking up from her book. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing.”

“Sorry Janey!” Anne quickly threw the rest of the clothing into the basket and handed it back to the blonde.

“You know Jane, you don’t need to apologize for everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The found family was gathered around the dinner table on their night off when Jane and Anna had both gone to reach for the serving spoon at the same time.

“So sorry, so sorry. Go ahead Anna!” Jane pulled her hand back and allowed the fourth queen to serve herself first.

“That’s it!” The first queen half-shouted.

“What?” The third queen asked, rather confused.

“All you do is apologize. Why do you do that? Most of the things you apologize for aren’t even your fault!”

“I-I-I” Jane stammered. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re doing it again,” Cathy mumbled.

“I just-” Jane began. “I don't know. It’s just something I’ve always done? I’m sorry.”

“Mom, you don’t need to apologize for that. We all have little things about ourselves. We just know that whenever you say sorry, you genuinely mean it, and a lot of the things you apologize for, you shouldn’t feel guilty over!”

“Yeah!” Anne piped up. “Like, when something happens, if it’s something small and not your fault, don’t apologize! But like, if something is actually your fault, then it’s okay to apologize.” Jane sat there in wonder. Was that how it was supposed to work? She had always just apologized for everything. She figured the strange looks she had been given in the past were because people were upset with her actions and not because they were confused about why she was apologizing. Maybe she had been reading it all wrong.

“We’re not trying to gang up on you or anything. We just want you to know that it’s okay to not apologize for every little thing that might happen,” Catalina chided gently.

“I’m-” The rest of the queens groaned. “I mean, I’ll try to remember that.”

The next few days went by as usual. Things happened that Jane felt guilty over, but each time, the queen she was interacting with reminded her she wasn’t to apologize. The blonde was walking down the hallway to her room looking down at her phone when Anne whipped open her door and walked straight into the third queen, knocking her to the ground.

“Oh sorry Anne. Should’ve been looking where I was going I guess!” Jane stood up, slightly embarrassed.

“Jane, I walked into you.”

“But I should’ve been looking where I was going instead of looking at this darn phone.”

“Jane! I walked into you! There’s-”Anne stopped in her tracks, a stroke of genius hitting her. “Nevermind.” She ran off in search of the other queens.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

That night after the show, Anne, along with the rest of the queens waltzed into Jane’s open bedroom.

“Oh hey loves! I’m sorry I’m not downstairs tonight. I’m just a bit tired is all.” She turned down the television volume and turned her attention to the five in her room.

“That’ll be 25 cents please.” Cathy held her hand out expectantly.

“I don’t have 25 cents on me right now Cath. I’m sorry.”

“That’ll be another 25 cents.” Kitty also held her hand out expectantly.

“Kitty honey, if I don't have one quarter, what makes you think I’d have two quarters?”

“Mom, it’s our new system! Every time you apologize for something that you shouldn’t be saying you’re sorry for, you have to put a quarter in...”

“This!” Anne held out a large mason jar painted blue, white and silver, with Catalina’s handwriting saying “Jane’s Sorry Jar”. “We all made it for you! See! It was my idea!”

“Yeah! If you fill it up quick enough, we may even get to go on vacation!” Anna joked. Both Catalina and Cathy smacked her playfully.

“Well, hopefully she learns quickly and doesn’t fill it up fast enough for that,” Kitty laughed. “Although...”

“It’s beautiful! I can see where all of you contributed! Anna, beautiful paint job! Kitty, I love the glitter! Cathy and Anne, nice splatter paint! It really looks like stars! And Catalina, your handwriting looks beautiful!” Jane grinned. “I’m sorry you went through all of this trouble for me though!”

“That’ll be another 25 cents!” Anne giggled. “Maybe Anna was right. She might just fill it quick enough for a vacation! That’s already 75 cents she owes!”

“I’m sorry, but I don't have quarters!”

“Well, do you have a dollar? Because you just apologized again,” Anna pointed out. The other queens looked at her. “What? I’m good with money.” She smirked.

“That- that wasn’t the point. But yes, I do have a dollar.” Jane pulled out a one dollar bill from her pocket and placed it into the jar.

In the beginning of this new system, Jane found herself putting many quarters in the jar a day. Whether it was bumping into someone, or misstepping during a show, or even something as silly as drinking the last of the bottled waters in the house. As time went on though, the blonde found herself using the jar less and less. Yes, she still slipped up on occasion, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Apologizing for something she truly felt guilty over happened often, but she found herself apologizing less and less for things that weren’t her fault. The queens were happy to help the third queen even in such a small way. And Jane?

Jane had almost single handedly paid for a week's vacation with her many, many quarters placed in “Jane’s Sorry Jar” happily.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #catherine aragon #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #anna cleves #katherine howard #kat howard #catherine parr #cathy parr

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politics-notmything · 3 years

Conversation

Aragon: While I’m gone, Cathy, you’re in charge.

Parr: Yes!

Aragon, whispering: We all know Cathy is whipped for Anne so Jane, you’re secretly in charge.

Seymour: Obviously.

#six the musical #six #six queens #six wives #parrlyn #parrleyn #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #Catherine Parr #jane seymour #incorrect quotes #incorrect quote #six incorrect quotes #incorrect six the musical quotes #incorect quote

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jane-fucking-seymour · 3 years

Text

NEW LEGEND OF THE SIX - CHAPTER 25 - SECRET OF THE FAE

AO3 Link

They had lost.

Catherine rose with the others - almost all the others, actually, as Katherine had not rose - as they calmly looked up at their master, their lord.

Anne disappeared in a cloud of shadow, Maggie and Elizabeth’s screams a distant echo.

Anna disappeared in a surge of fire, a dragon screech almost drowning out the screams of thousands.

Cathy disappears in a cloud of blue and pink, the maddened wails of soldiers in her wake.

But Catherine… Catherine remains. And kneels. And offers her sword.

The person in front of her takes it, and he smiles.

Henry smiles, and Catherine feels… foreign relief.

“You’ve finally seen the light of day, have you?” he asks. “Go on. Fulfill your duty to your king.”

She stands, turns from Henry and Jane, who was suddenly there, and looks down at Maria. Maria is being held down by golden chains.

“Please,” Maria sobs. “Don’t do this, Catherine. Please-!”

The sword’s Blessed energy glows, but it’s angry. Pleading, almost.

“PLEASE!” Maria yells, but the sword swings down-

The Blessed suddenly gasps awake, sweating slightly as she gasps for air. She looks around wildly, grabbing her sword next to her-

-only for a steady hand to shoot out to keep the blade on the ground.

Catherine immediately whips her head towards the source, ready to fire-

“Catherine.”

She blinks.

“Anne?”

Anne Boleyn keeps her hand on Catherine’s, holding the blade down. Her gaze isn’t judging at all, instead calmly assessing the started Blessed before her. She keeps Catherine’s gaze until she sees the panic settle for the normal type of calm - well, as normal as it could be given the circumstances.

“You’re not usually this jumpy,” Anne observes, slowly releasing Catherine’s hand.

She steps back as Catherine puts the hand that was on her blade onto her forehead. She shakes her head. “Just a nightmare. Nothing more.”

“What happened?” Anne asks, standing up.

Catherine shakes her head. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

Anne is silent for a moment before she nods.

“Well, it’d be a shame for you to suddenly break your Oath, Blessed, so do try to remember which of us is friend and foe next time you reach for that blade of yours, yeah?” Anne asks, stretching.

Catherine chuckles. “And here I thought we were being friendly.”

“Eh, we’ve been reunited for a day now,” Anne says with a smirk, looking over at the girl. “Let’s get out of here.”

They both step out of the tents they made for the night, stepping into the clearing that they had set up camp. The City of Everlasting Promise seemed nearby - infuriatingly so.

“Still stuck in this loop, eh?” Catherine asks with a sigh. “Even with how far we’ve gone…”

“Cathy has a plan,” Katherine says, but she’s not looking at the Blessed; instead, she’s looking forward, at Cathy.

The woman in question was with Anna, a few feet away. She was looking down at something in her hand, discussing it quietly with the Battlereeve.

“You’re probably right,” Cathy says. “I think that makes the most sense.”

Anna nods, somber. “It’s the only explanation I have as to why this area has grown so quickly in the time you suggested.” She shakes her head. “And with what you know about the Fae here… I think you might be on your own on this one.”

Cathy nods. “It makes the most sense, yes.”

Anne walks over. “Are we ready?”

Anna nods. “This is mostly Cathy’s show, but considering what I’ve been seeing, I think I can help towards the end.” She looks over at Cathy. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Cathy stands up, taking a deep breath… then starts to summon a portal. Multiple ones, actually. To so many places that there’s some even Catherine doesn’t recognize. Anna puts on a brave face, steeling herself, just before she moves to go into one of the portals-

“HEY! THAT’S CHEATING!”

-and suddenly, there’s Fae all around them. They’re a bit mad.

Cathy stops the summoning, a bit winded. “We were trying to get an audience with your leader-” Cathy starts, but a Fae steps forward and gets right into her face.

“NO, YOU PLAY WITH US FOREVER.” The Fae hollars.

Cathy shakes her head. “We can’t. You know we can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” The Fae is clearly distressed. “We can make it so.”

“But then,” Anna says, voice soft and kind. “We wouldn’t be able to help you.”

The Fae around them pause, chat amongst themselves for a moment.

“What do you mean?” The Fae ask.

There’s suddenly thousands of them around - so many voices and magicks that the group starts to feel whoozy. Katherine, in particular, leans a bit heavily into Anna’s side. Anna frowns, keeping the girl close, as she takes steady breaths in an attempt to steady herself. Even Catherine is affected, though far less than the rest of the group.

“What you’ve been showing us… these games… why did you make them?” Cathy asks.

The Fae narrows its eyes. “You dare ask a question of us?”

“To help,” Cathy tries. “To play-”

“This is NOT the game we wanted to play!” The Fae replies. A chorus of agreement is all around them. Maggie falls to the ground, holding her head, the world spinning. Anne tries to help her, but she’s struggling as well.

Cathy pushes forward; this had gone on far enough. “Alright!” she yells. “Alright. Let’s make a deal: we beat your next game, and we are free to go.”

The Fae chatter. Elizabeth looks pale.

The Fae smirk.

“That’s fine with me!”

All of the Fae’s eyes glow. All of them fade into nothing. All of them start to disappear into the mist that was now forming.

Cathy panics for a moment; before it gets too bad, Catherine rushes forward, grabbing her goddaughter just before they can no longer see anyone.

“This… isn’t good,” Catherine mumbles, looking around warily.

“No,” Cathy replies. “This is actually close to the plan.”

Cathy looks through the ring with a grin - through the ring, she can see as clear as day. She’s quick to bring them all together again. The mist fades.

The Fae are annoyed.

“How did you?” The Fae asks, but Cathy shrugs sheepishly.

“Through a ring can you see all things,” Cathy explains. “Especially one given to me by one of your own.”

They look over at the Fae in question and then back at Cathy. Cathy is smiling softly at the Fae in question. Then she looks up.

“I request an audience with your leader,” Cathy says again.

The Fae talk loudly around each other before, suddenly, they’re all transported again, this time back to the City of Everlasting Promise.

Catherine groans as she puts a hand to her head. She can’t seem to stop herself from grabbing her sword with her non-dominant hand. Elizabeth also seems to be unable to stop herself as she fights with her own off-hand, the two quickly pulled into a duel not of their own making.

Cathy is quick to stop this with some ice magicks. Anna takes the weapons before melting the ice. Katherine binds the two with vines instead.

“Is that what they made you do?” Cathy asks quietly, respectfully. “They made you fight each other?”

More angry voices. More swirling. This time, they’re back at the castle, and suddenly Katherine and Maggie are in some sort of path. They were stumbling through the path, and certainly would have fallen to their doom, had it not been Elizabeth and Anna using magicks and wings to guide them to safety.

“They tricked you, made you fear them?” Cathy asks, once again respectfully. The others haven’t said a word, refuse to at the moment. Anything they could say, after all, could damn them. “They used mind magicks?”

The Fae once again rise up in anger, and then, with a might shriek, they caused the group to fall to their knees in pain. When Cathy looked up, however, she’d find herself back in something of an ethereal Weston, with see through buildings and villagers.

She’d see through her husband as the execution went through.

She did not expect to feel it.

She screams in pain, body writhing around as it continues. She holds onto her neck for dear life, she squeezes her eyes shut to block out the pain-

-until she feels someone put a hand to her shoulder and tense. The pain is considerably less, but still agonizing. She knows the armored leg next to her belongs to Anna, who has seemingly grabbed onto her. Then a golden armor appears next to her, and the pain lessens, and they continue more and more, with the pain getting less and less the more it is shared. Cathy can look up now, to see the others taking the pain with her, all grimacing at the unpleasantness but remaining steady.

It gives Cathy the strength to continue.

She gets up, and then, with a deep breath, she yells:

“I call for John Parr!”

It all stops as suddenly as it began, and the Fae are quiet.

After a moment, someone steps forward.

“You know my name?”

Cathy’s smiling through tears.

“I would be a terrible wife if I didn’t.”

The area calms, and the thousands of Fae around them disappear.

John frowns, a hand to his head. “What’s happened?”

“You were executed,” Cathy explains quietly, getting up. She’s not alone - Catherine is right there with her. “You were executed, but you couldn’t move on.” She holds onto her wedding ring, the one that she used before to clear the mist. “You were stuck here. And you still are.”

John frowns. “Why do I only just remember this now?”

“Because of the trauma perhaps?” Anna asks. “Because of the magicks?”

“Magicks?” He asks, and he tenses as he remembers. “Oh, my god, the magicks-”

“Where?” Cathy asks quietly, and he’s clearly shaken, but he’ll answer.

“They… they’ve done some foul things, Cathy. They’ve hurt us all. They’ve trapped us here.”

“As prisoners?” Cathy asks.

“As energy sources.”

Cathy looks over to a Fae nearby, the Fae from the mirrors.

“I remember now, too,” they say. “Guess I just needed the reminder.”

“You’re all trapped here because of some magicks that are intended to keep you here for energy?” Catherine asks, and Maria tenses a bit because of the tone. Catherine’s furious.

“Yes,” John replies. “I… we’ve been turned into something we did not know was possible.”

“Anything like this is possible,” Anne replies gravely, “if you are a Keeper of Necromancy.”

Anna frowns. “You think Jane’s done it?”

“I think she’s part of it,” Anne says. She looks over at Catherine. “You can’t call me biased in this either, you know what they can do. The bad ones.”

Catherine sighs. “I don’t think I could argue with you on that,” Catherine relents, and she shakes her head. “This needs to be undone. We need to figure this out.”

“This was the biggest game of all,” Cathy says, moving closer to John. “Figuring you out. Figuring this area out.” She wants to hold his hand, to embrace him, but she knows she can’t; it’s too risky. Embracing a Fae - regardless of how they were made - rarely has good consequences. “We need to get out of here.”

“You can’t,” John replies. “Not without leaving something here. Not without a placeholder.”

Cathy frowns. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” She holds up her wedding ring, on its chain, and lets it go - it floats in the air. “My heart is clearly here. And here it will stay.”

John frowns. “I’m sorry, Cathy.”

Cathy smiles back. “So am I.”

He takes the offer begrudgingly, taking a deep breath before the ring disintegrates into nothing. Cathy forces herself to watch, even as it feels like her heart is being ripped from her chest all over again.

“I’ll strike a bargain, one that is for me and me alone, not my comrades,” she says quietly. “We help free you all, and I get my trinket back.”

The Fae discuss it with each other for moments before they all go silent at the same time.

John steps forward.

“You are a Friend of the Fae, Catherine Parr,” John says quietly. “And we will accept your terms.”

Cathy nods. “Let us leave, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain.”

Everything starts to fade - the City, the Fae, and John. Cathy can barely hold back tears as her husband fades away, barely holding back sobs. He smiles until he’s no longer visible.

“Are they gone?” Katherine asks, looking around warily.

“Not gone,” Anna says. “Just out of view.” She looks at the Catherine’s. “We need to get going. We’re not too far from Parlemont, which means we can grab the Seroserum and sprint to the Festival.”

Catherine agrees. “Even at our fastest, we’ll only have one shot at this.”

Cathy takes a deep breath before she uses her magick to summon spectral horses. Catherine raises her eyebrows at that, but Cathy doesn’t seem to care.

“Let’s do what we can, then,” Cathy says. “Push on.”

With a nod, they ride.

Elsewhere, far, far away, the Capitol’s festival preparations were in full swing.

The town was buzzing with anticipation of the upcoming festivities - servants and villagers alike ran in the halls, putting up decorations. The courtyard was converted to fairgrounds, with people setting up tents and mead halls and sparring pits. Already many had made their home there, and for the next few months they’d likely remain. The city was completely energized and excited.

It was a shame its queen couldn’t feel the same.

Jane watched from above it all, at the top of her tower, fairly passive. This, normally, would be one of the most exciting times of the year: the King would be in incredible spirits, as would the entire world around her, so Jane would have no choice but to be happy.

This year, however, was anything but a joyous occasion: her work was far from done, and would likely get more complicated and dangerous from here. The defenses - which she usually had no part in - were now her sole objective of the festival preparations thanks to her newly-minted Keeper status.

The people she worked with didn’t seem to question why the queen that once was in charge of the food and drink of the festival was now the head of security; they didn’t ask what had changed since her disappearance. Not that she’d be able to say why, after all; her being a Keeper was a closely guarded secret. Still, despite the secrecy and the like, people did start to look at her differently, even if they had no clue what was really going on.

Her dress, for example, was no longer what it was. Her signature black and white long sleeved dress with a cloak on the back was now replaced by a light coat and pants situation, with the seal of the Realm right over her heart. Her staff was no longer the long elegant one she was known for, but instead one of hard angles and a green crystal that seemed to faintly glow occasionally. It was a massive change, though that change was met with sympathy, with the people thinking it was through her trauma that she had changed.

Which, technically, they’d be right, but also so very wrong.

“Mum?”

She was brought out of her thoughts by a young man with a bright smile and something behind his back. Jane smiled back at him, brightening up at the sight of him.

“Hello, Edward,” Jane says fondly, softly. “How are you?”

“I’m well, but, uhm,” he says, bouncing up and down excitedly. “I’m… here!”

He whipped his hands around from behind his back and showed off what he made - a wooden star, painted black and white, with Jane’s name on it.

“Just like how we used to!” He says. “But this time, this star is for you!”

Jane swelled with pride as she took the star, smiling at him and hugging him tightly. “I love it, Eddie. Thank you.”

He nodded, his smile faltering after a moment, as he nuzzled into his mom’s shoulder as they continued the embrace. “I’m… not entirely sure what happened before.” Jane tenses as she remembers the situation. “But I think you saved me from something, didn’t you?” He releases and looks back at her. “I think something terrible’s happened, hasn’t it?”

Jane sighs. “You know it’s bad of you to say those things so loudly, don’t you?”

Edward shrugs. “Elizabeth said I shouldn’t worry that much. That he needs an heir.”

Jane chuckles. “She’s bright for her age, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hurt you.”

“I know,” he admits. “Because he can hurt you instead, and that’d hurt me.”

She pauses at that, looking down at her boy, before she nods.

He looks up at the stars then, and smiles.

“At least we’ve the stars to keep us company.”

Jane tilted her head curiously as she watched the stars move above them, a small smile slowly appearing on her face. Eddie’s laughter rang through her ears soothingly, like a song she never wanted to stop hearing.

“We should make a wish!” Eddie says with a small smile. “You always said a meteorshower like this means that the gods are listening closer than ever, so we should make a wish! One that we can think of so loudly, they’ll have to listen.” He closes his eyes, head still tilted towards the sky. “I know exactly what I’m going to wish for.”

Jane chuckles and nods, going to close her eyes before, suddenly, her gemstone on her staff starts to angrily pulse. She stiffens; it means she’s being called.

It stops as soon as Eddie opens his eyes, though, and he smiles.

“I hope it comes true. For both of us!” He nods, backing up. “I gotta go now, though; I promised Joan I’d help with the decorating.”

Jane nods, a bit relieved that Joan’s keeping Edward focused on other things while Jane continued with her grim task. She’s been a lifesaver, that Joan.

“Go on, and give her my best,” Jane says. Eddie nods, sprinting off with a final wave, down the tower and into the courtyard. Jane can see him as he meets up with Joan. He starts off and Joan looks up, directly at Jane. They share a moment before Joan nods courteously, then follows the boy.

Jane’s smile fades the farther her son gets from her.

She goes to the middle of the room, to a seal. It wasn’t there until recently. She presses down on it, and suddenly she’s transported to a room with no doors. It looks like a cellar of some sort, but Jane understands that this is no cellar; it might not even be in the world.

She takes a deep breath and moves towards the gentle pulsing orb that is in the center of the room. It’s actually quite soothing… or it would be, if it wasn’t the personification of the God of Death.

“Can… you hear me?” she asks.

The glowing orb pulses.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll take that as a yes,” Jane says quietly. She watches the orb for a moment - the movements are rhythmic. It’d be calming if it wasn’t a literal beacon of death.

“I’ve done some more research into you,” Jane says, head tilted down as she continues. Her tone is respectful. “And how you operate. And how… Keepers of Necromancy are.”

The pulsing continues, so she does as well.

“It’s a really interesting history, if I’m being honest. The ways that Keepers of Necromancy are rarely by choice, but by traditions or some sort of Pact.” She lowers her gaze. “Of Pacts that held treaties in some of the Forgotten Kingdoms.”

The orb glows brighter, pulsing suddenly before tendrils of green energy extend from it, dropping to the ground. The tendrils of light form into people. They’re completely green - still made of the energy of course - but their eyes are glowing.

Jane frowns. “Are these… other Keepers?”

She walks to each of them. One holds out their hand, still emotionless. Jane tilts her head curiously before taking it.

She gasps, head thrown back as her own eyes glow green. She’s pulled into a vision, looking through the eyes of the person whose hand she touched as if it was her own eyes:

“Callum,” the woman next to them, hand in theirs. “I know this isn’t what you had hoped. I understand that this wasn’t in the plan. But you must understand - this is for the good of us all.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eye. “I know you will do this with grace. I know you won’t disrespect us. I just know it.” She starts to tear up. “As much as I did not want this for you.”

And with that, Jane is released.

She stumbles backwards, hand to her head as her eyes fade with the green energy. She gasps for air as she watches the person she had just moved to dissipate into nothing.

“That…” she takes a deep breath before composing herself. “That makes sense.” she looks back at the orb as the rest of the figures disappear from view. She steps forward. “I thank you for telling me more about my current… predicament.”

She’s being far more formal than usual because this was, after all, a god she was talking to. A god that now held her soul.

For now.

“I came to ask for a blessing, of sorts,” she continues. “Though I’m unsure if you grant them to your Keepers, I hope that you can honor your servant’s request.”

The orb does nothing.

Jane looks down at the ground, averting her gaze, taking a deep breath before she looks back up at the orb, intensely.

“I’d like to make a Pact of my own.”

A hum fills the room and Jane smiles at it.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #sixfic #legend of the six #lots #six fic

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not-a-healthy-human · 3 years

Text

Another incorrect quote based on my friend and I being dumbasses

Anna: so, what's the difference between journal and a diary?

Anne: a journal is like, intellectual shit, and a diary is like "OH MY GOD! I SAW THIS GIRL DOWN THE STREET AND IM SO IN LOOOOOOVE!"

Anna: so like "YES! SHE GAVE ME A SUBTLE SMILE AND I WAS SO WHIPPED IN THAT MOMENT!"

Anne: yeah! Like "I SAW HER AGAIN! SHE SAW I DIDN'T HAVE MY UMBRELLA, SO SHE GAVE ME HERS!"

Anne and Anna *just laughing so hard that they woke up Cathy*: "I LOVE HER! SHE'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!"

Cathy: this is the reason why they banned us from burger king!

#anne boleyn #six #catherine parr #cathy parr #six incorrect quotes #anna of cleves

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Imagine it being the day of Kitty’s execution.

It’s obvious she’s tense and upset, but the others notice that Joan looks more anxious than usual. She’s also following Kitty around, too, which makes Kitty paranoid and then agitated.

“What are you doing?” Kitty finally snaps, whipping around to the MD.

Joan jumps. “I’m, umm... Making sure you’re alright.”

Kitty snorts. “What for? You didn’t ever make sure I was alright before.”

Joan shrugs. “It’s just that today was the execution and...”

Kitty then realizes why Joan had looked to anxious.

“Oh my god.” Kitty says. “Are you scared because of what happened?”

Joan is quiet.

“Do you actually think you’re scarred by my execution?”

“Y-you don’t know what it was like watching it,” Joan whispered.

“Watching it? You don’t know what it’s like LIVING IT!”

By now the others surrounded them to see what was going on.

“Were you imprisoned for something you didn’t do?”

Joan winced. “No.”

“Were you forced down onto your knees before hundreds of people and humiliated because of it?”

“No.”

“Did you ge tuition fucking head chopped off when you were only seventeen?”

“No...”

“THEN YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE!” Kitty roared. “I don’t care what you went through or saw, Joan! Because in the end, it won’t matter! You had a perfectly good life! All you were was a lady in waiting, you didn’t have to marry an old king against your will! You weren’t killed like Anne and I were, you weren’t forced to divorce and get your life ruined like Aragon, you weren’t publicly humiliated like Anna, you didn’t live just to be the bearer of a male heir like Jane, you didn’t get your true love taken away like Cathy! You didn’t even go through the same things as the other ladies in waiting here!! You’re just some pathetic nobody who history forgot about, and it would have been so much better if you had just never come back!”

Joan flinched backwards, tears springing to her eyes. Kitty scowled at her, seething with rage.

“We all agree that Jane Parker would have made a much better replacement for you. Why couldn’t you have been her?”

#I’ve been thinking about how small joan’s section of history is compared to the others #she really is a nobody #I smell survivor guilt!!#six the musical #six concept #mini fic #joan on the keys #katherine howard #brat kat

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kiarcheo · 3 years

Text

Cousin Trap

Can read on Ao3 here

Anne Boleyn and Catalina Aragon have a lot of things in common. Among those, they are both smart, accomplished women, they both dated the same man, Henry Tudor, and they absolutely loathe each other. These are all things they are both aware of. But there is another matter that connects them and that they don’t know anything about: they both love to death their younger cousins....and said cousins are dating.

For months Katherine Howard and Catherine Parr had been unaware of the fact themselves.

How was Cathy supposed to even start to suspect that the Annie her girlfriend always talked about with nothing but pure love was ‘that Boleyn girl’ - and yes, she hears it in her mind in the same tone Catalina usually spits it out?

How was Kat supposed to connect Cathy’s Lina, the cousin who used to teach her Spanish swearwords when she was a kid and is now almost a maternal figure to her, with ‘Catherine, that massive *insert chosen insult of the day*’ Anne still complains about, even if it has been years since they have last seen each other?

‘And you know, it’s funny. Because her surname is literally Aragon and she is from there.’

Kat abruptly stops laughing along with Cathy. ‘Aragon? Your...Lina is Catherine Aragon?’

‘Catalina.’ Cathy corrects her. ‘It annoys her when people use the English version. That’s not her name.’ She stops. She heard it so many times that she could repeat Lina’s spiel word by word, but that’s probably not the point. ‘But yes? Why?’

‘Annie. My cousin,’ Cathy nods to show she is following. Of course she knows who Annie is. She met her. Scarily smart and scarily funny, once you get over her being scarily protective of Kat. Not that Cathy faults her for it. ‘Anne Boleyn.’

‘What?’

‘My cousin is Anne Boleyn.’ Kat repeats, much to Cathy’s horror, who had been hoping she had misunderstood.

---

‘So, let me see if I got it right.’ Anna looks at her two friends. ‘Your cousins, the ones who are basically your big sisters slash mother figures and would totally kill for you, hate each other.’

Cathy and Kat nod.

‘And they don’t know you are dating? Even if you have been together for…what is it? Four years?’

‘Yes.’

‘How is that even possible?’ That’s the part Anna is most confused about.

‘Well, they never met.’

‘Yes, but they met you!’ Anna gestures to them. She remembers Kat stressing out about meeting Cathy’s Lina for the first time, worrying that she would not make a good impression on someone who was so important for her girlfriend. And she also remembers Cathy telling her about her meeting with Anne and the shovel talk she got. Hell, Anna has met Anne herself!

‘Yes. And they know about Annie and Lina.’

‘Not about that Boleyn girl and Catherine Aragon.’ Cathy picks up Kat's explanation.

‘What about photos?’ Just from her armchair Anna can see at least four pictures on the shelves with Anne and Kat, Cathy and Catalina, and even one of both her friends with Anne.

‘We hide them.’ That had not been a problem until they had moved in together, but once they took that step and they had their first visit...that’s what they did.

‘And you don’t plan to tell them?’

‘Nope.’

‘How is this even going to work? Won't they meet at a certain point?’

‘We alternate for the holidays and stuff. One time at Lina’s, one at Anne’s. Or with them, anyway. No reason for them to meet.’

‘So what? You’re going to wait until your wedding day and have them see each other there?’

‘We discussed it and we feel no need to get married, so...’

Anna shakes her head. Unbelievable.

---

‘You!’ A twin exclamation. Had their hands not been loaded with bags, they would have totally pointed the finger at each other.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘What are you doing here?

‘I asked first.’

If Anne wants to do this in the middle of the street, Catalina will not back down. ‘Visiting family, not that you’d know anything about that.’

Anne ignores the low blow. Her fraught relationship with her family has always been a sore spot, and Catalina knows it very well.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Catalina stops her from ringing the bell, covering it with her hand.

‘Old age getting to you?’ Anne hits back, Catalina’s age – specifically her being older than Henry and consequently also than Anne – being one of the excuses he had used to dump her for Anne. ‘What do you think?’ before adding, ‘Hoping to be saved from having to breath the same air as you for much longer.’

‘You got the wrong house.’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘This is where I’m going.’

‘Impossible. This is where I am going.’

’My cousin lives here.’

‘My cousin lives here.’

They glare at each other.

‘Let’s settle it.’ Anne rings the doorbell.

‘Eager to be proven wrong, aren’t you?’ Catalina scoffs. ‘Let's hear it. What would your cousin’s name be?’

‘What’s yours?’

They stare at each other silently as if challenging the other to speak first. Tension builds as the standoff continues.

‘Catherine.’

‘Katherine.’

They say at the same time, then stiffen. Is it all a big joke for the other? Is she taking the mick? They look ready to attack when they have a light-bulb moment. Realisation dawns.

‘No!’

‘Sorry, it took me so long, I’m not feeling my best-’ the door opens fully, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Oh querida,’ Catalina breaths out. Cathy looks...rough. ‘Let me in, don’t stand there in the cold.’ She gently pushes her way in, ignoring how Anne follows her and focusing on Cathy. ‘Have you been to the doctor? Have you been eating? Let me whip up something for you.’ She doesn’t really wait for a reply, moving towards the living room, Cathy trailing behind her wordlessly, shocked and exhausted. ‘How is Kat?’

Right then a scratchy voice calls out. ‘Cathy?’

That seems to jolt Anne out of whatever trance she was in. In three quick steps she is by Catalina’s side and trying to enter the room first.

‘Who was at the door?’ The question is barely finished when the coughing starts, the cocoon on the couch from where the voice came from convulsing. Then a pale face with flushed cheeks from the effort emerges.

‘Katie!’ Anne is immediately by her side.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘That seems to be the question of the hour.’ Catalina mutters while watching, almost captivated, Anne taking Kat’s face in her hands, tilting it up, and resting her cheek on her forehead. ‘Still got a fever. Have you been throwing up? Have you taken anything? Do you want me to run to the pharmacy? Cathy, you need anything?’

‘Annie.’ Kat blinks up at her. ‘Slow down.’

‘Right. Sorry.’ Anne sits back on her haunches.

Cathy joins Kat on the couch, Kat wordlessly lifting the blanket and wrapping Cathy in.

‘That would look adorable if you both didn’t look so terrible.’

‘I haven’t looked at a mirror in forever, but if I look half as bad as I feel...I have no doubts.’ Kat comments.

‘Why are you here?’ Cathy is too tired and sick to care about politeness. Besides, that’s the good thing about close family, isn’t it? No need to sugar-coat and maintain a polite façade when you feel like crap.

‘You call, telling me that you’re both violently sick and you expect what? For me to just stay home knowing there is no one to help you here because all your friends left for the break and you’re in no state to help each other?’

‘As much as I hate to agree with her,’ Anne reaches up to brush some hair away from Kat’s clammy face. ‘You know I’d drop anything if you needed me. And in this case, I already had the days off anyway...’

‘You’re going to get sick too.’

Anne smiles at her cousin’s thoughtfulness. ‘That’s a risk I’m willing to run.’

Catalina clearly agrees, as she puts on the kettle and puts together some light sandwiches after Cathy mentions it’s time for them to take their medicines.

As they are all sitting down having tea, Anne broaches the subject. ‘When were you thinking of telling me about...her?’ She sends a dirty look towards Catalina, who doesn’t hesitate to return it.

Still, they don’t miss the look Cathy and Kat exchange. And the silence is telling enough.

‘So, what? What was the plan? Wait until your wedding day for me to see her showing up at the reception?’

‘I will totally walk Kat down the aisle or whatever they decide to do.’

‘Marriage is not really in the plans, so...not really?’ Cathy says at the same time.

Anne turns to her, hard look in her eyes. ‘Why not? Kat not good enough for you?’

‘Because we talked about it and marriage is not a thing we see in our future.’ Kat stops her before she can get riled up on her behalf…absolutely unnecessarily.

Anne gives a begrudging nod. Overprotectiveness aside, it's not completely surprising considering their family’s history. Still, they will be revisiting the topic, once Kat is better.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Cathy hesitantly starts after they had been sitting for a while, ‘I’m not kicking you out or anything. You can stay as long as you want. Both of you. But before we get too dozy from the medicine...where are you staying?’ They have learned the hard way that what they are taking hit them both quite strongly. They found stuff in weird places they didn’t remember having put them in. Which is way better that waking up on the bathroom floor, presumably after one of them threw up but without remembering who was the one who got sick, bodies hurting even more from sleeping in a weird position on a cold, hard floor.

‘Here?’ Anne and Catalina look at each other as they say the same thing at the same time. They narrow their eyes in challenge.

‘You know we’re always happy to have you here,’ both had stayed over before, ‘but do you remember that there is just one guest room, right?’

‘She can sleep on the couch.’ Anne beats Catalina to the punch.

‘You can sleep on the couch!’ Catalina rebuts.

‘Why? Your old back can’t take it?’ Anne snipes. ‘If you admit so, I might be generous enough to leave you the bed.’

Kat’s coughing fit, albeit involuntarily, comes at the perfect moment.

‘Actually,’ Cathy takes advantage of the interruption as she rubs Kat's back, ‘you can’t use the couch, I’m afraid.’ She grimaces, whether it is because of what she is saying or because her girlfriend is currently trying to hack up a lung not clear. ‘If one of us is up at night, to avoid waking the other, we move out here. But if one of you is sleeping here...’

‘Of course.’ ‘You don’t have to apologise.’ Both women reassure her.

‘So either one of you stays and the other stays at a hotel-’

‘Her.’

‘Not me.’

They glare at each other.

‘Or you can share the room. It’s a queen size bed, as you know.’

---

‘Cathy?’

They had retired to their room, medicine having its predicted effect, leaving the older women to settle down in the guest room. And probably take over the house and everything else, if their bickering about groceries and cleaning is any indication.

‘We don’t really use the couch.’ Kat points out. They are out cold at night, the power of drugs. So far they have only woke up for coughing fits or to throw up… which tends to wake the other, and they would not have it any other way. And at that point they prefer to stay together, cuddling in bed and waiting for sleep to come...they are both sick anyway, not like it can get any worse.

‘I know.’

‘Then why?’ Kat looks adorably confused in her drowsiness.

‘So they’ll be forced to get along.’

‘Or kill each other.’

‘But that would make us sad, and they know it, so they won’t.’

Kat nods. That sounds reasonable. Then she squints at Cathy. ‘Are you...cousin trapping them? You know, like The Parent Trap movie but with cousin because they are our cousins?’

Cathy smiles dopily at the over explanation. Kat tends to ramble when she is tired.

‘Or trope-ing them.’

‘What?’

‘You know, there was only one bed. Or,’ Kat’s scrunched up face lets her know she is not following her, so Cathy continues, ‘and they were roommates.’

The response is automatic, no need to even engage the brain. ‘Oh my God! They were roommates!’

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