#i feel like parr is the one who started the live and aragon came over to say hi and now all the fans are watching the chaos

[politics-notmything]

We fell in love in November

YEah, we back at it with another one shot... I don’t normally write these but after my recent post and the Parrlyn discord, now could I not 👀 Anyway, this took wayyyyyy longer than i thought it would - Part 15 of She Used to be mine is out tomorrow :)  

Tw- implied nudity (nothing over PG-13), bad language, coming out. 

The euphoria Cathy Parr felt around Anne Boleyn was extravagant. Even now when they lie in bed together trying to come down from their high, Cathy still felt energised. The writer rolled over to face her girlfriend, with the bedsheets pulled up to her neck and subtly smiled. Cathy ran her left hand through the Boleyn girl’s hair and cupped her cheek with the other.

“You look so beautiful,” Anne opened her eyes and grinned when she met with Cathy’s.

“As are you.” she simply replied as she moved forward to tenderly kiss her girlfriend. No one could’ve expected that Catherine Parr and Anne Boleyn would become a thing in their second life. Heck, they didn’t even know they had the possibility of a second life! Anne paused their kiss and Cathy looked unexpectedly at her gremlin, “You should tell Aragon.” 

The moment was ruined. 

Cathy tensed as she sat up, pulling the duvet with her and laughing when she pulled too hard, so Anne was left bare, “What?” 

“I said-” Anne smirked as she deliberately rolled onto Cathy’s chest, making her blush, “You should tell Aragon.”

“What if I don’t want to tell Aragon…” Cathy whispered, not looking away from Anne’s eyes.

“You can look at my tits, Cath, I don't mind.” 

“ANNE!” Cathy profusely blushed and shoved the Boleyn girl to the side, 

Anne snickered and pulled the writer into a cuddle, “It isn’t like you haven’t seen them before.” 

“But seriously,” Cathy hummed when she went back to being serious, “I don’t want to tell my godmother, she might not like it.” 

“But she came to pride last year and threw confetti at that proposing gay couple?” 

“That’s different. Not only am I her goddaughter, but I’m also dating the woman who stole her crown.” 

“Yeah, I feel a little guilty for that,” Anne confessed.

“You shouldn’t. ‘Lina isn’t mad about it now because we know you were forced to do it,” Cathy snuffled closer, “but it still doesn’t change history.” 

“She’s family Cath. I told Kat, now you should tell Aragon.” Anne gently kissed Cathy’s curls before removing her grip around the writer’s waist, allowing her to go downstairs. 

“I might.” Cathay smiled as she grabbed her underwear and a towel from Anne’s floor, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Cath.” 

Both queens had been dating for a significant amount of time, and their story started when they ‘accidentally’ made out in Cathy’s dressing room after Anne trapped them for an hour. After that, there had been a series of confessions, secret glances and planning from both parties, so they didn’t come across as suspicious. Then, once they felt ready, Anne told Katherine who has been a useful distraction when the lovers want some alone time. 

One of the first things Catherine proposed was developing small ‘habits’ that the others would believe. For example, Anne was known to sleep in, so they both took advantage of that when Cathy would sneak out of her room and cuddle Anne in the early morning before heading downstairs for breakfast. Another trick was when Cathy ran out of coffee and needed to take a last-minute trip to Tescos. Anne would always hide the coffee and midnight then plan a Tescos trip the next day when Cathy would happen to tag along. 

And it worked surprisingly well. 

“Morning Mija.” Catalin de Aragon was at the head of the kitchen table, reading a novel and drinking tea, alone. 

Cathy walked over to her coffee machine, “Morning ma, where is everyone?” 

“They decided to go on a walk. Katherine said something about trees helping you live longer,” 

Cathy suppressed a laugh, Anne...

“Yeah, I read that too.” 

“Of course, in our second lives, no one wants to take any chances!” Aragon continued, oblivious, “Knowing Kat, she probably just wanted to look at the dogs.” 

Catherine picked her fingernails, and her stomach churned over, “Can I confess something?”

“Of course…” Her godmother removed her reading glasses and gestured for Cathy to take a seat. 

“I’ve been seeing someone,” A beat, “romantically.” 

The confession slipped out and jumping the first hurdle was surprisingly easy, but unfortunately, it wasn’t as straightforward as that. 

The godmother corrected her posture and licked her lips, “Oh? For how long?” 

“About 4 months.” 

“And you never told me?” 

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Cathy replied, sheepishly. 

While Catherine may not be her mother, it didn’t change how she acted like one. One of Cathy’s strongest memories was when Aragon comforted her every night after she was reincarnated.

“What’s his name?” 

Another hurdle appeared that Cathy had to somehow jump over - the gay hurdle. 

“He’s a she.” Catherine wouldn’t say she was scared of her godmother, but she certainly valued her approval and beliefs. 

The Spaniard paused to think this over before leaning back in her chair, closing her eyes, and smiling. The smile grew, and a flower of hope blossomed in the Survivor’s chest. Aragon then opened her arms for Cathy to hug her, and the writer reacted all too quickly. 

“I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me.” 

“Does this mean you’re okay with this?” Cathy mumbled into her shoulder, 

“Of course Mija! Now, who is she?” 

“Okay, okay” Cathy could burst with excitement! Even though her godmother didn’t know it was Anne, Cathy could still describe her lover in perfect detail. “She has dark brown hair, which has a subtle wave at the end. She is pretty pale, so her freckles stand out but her cheeks are always red because she is somehow always blushing!” Cathy continued to gush, “Her eyes are grey, but they change with the light, and her favourite colour is green-”

“You told Aragon yet?” Anne Boleyn leaned in the doorway with a giant smirk on her face, “or are you just going to keep describing my facial features?” 

Silence. 

Anne stopped as she realised what she’d said. 

Cathy looked between Anne and her godmother. She loved the gremlin, but she really needs to learn to read a situation.

Aragon stood and looked between Anne and Cathy. Her brain slowly puts the puzzle together in an organised fashion. The hair, the skin, the freckles, the blush, the eyes and finally, the favourite colour. 

The history hurdle. 

The grinding of Cathy’s chair against the kitchen floor wasn’t enough to pierce the tension between the 1st and 2nd queen. The writer took Anne’s hand, and cautiously walked her over to her godmother. 

“Anne, this is my Godmother. Ma, this is-” 

“I know who Anne is.” Catherine’s voice was a deadly monotone. 

The awkwardness had obviously got to the Boleyn girl who proceeded to bite her lip as she glanced around the room, eyeing the wall tiles with great curiosity. 

“Boleyn.” Anne’s head snapped back to the situation as the Spanish queen addressed her. “Are you dating my goddaughter?” 

“Well-” Anne didn’t know what to say, and thankfully, Catherine didn’t want to hear it. 

“Catherine Mary Parr.” Cathy flinched at the use of her full name. 

“Your middle name is mary?” Anne tentatively asked before Aragon shut her off. 

“Are you dating the woman who stole my husband?” 

“Well, when you put it like that…” Cathy trailed off as her godmother rubbed her temple. 

“After all these years?” Aragon tried so hard to keep her composure, she really did. But some situations are just too much. “No puedo creerlos a los dos!” 

“I can’t fucking believe you both.” Cathy translated. 

“Después de todo lo que hago por ti,” The Spaniard flung her arms around, “así es como me pagas?!”

“After everything, I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?” 

“Mierda, mierda, mierda, odio a los malditos franceses!” She turned to Cathy “Te estas follando ella?” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I hate the fucking french, and I verbally can’t repeat the final phrase.” 

“Are you?” ‘Lina demanded to know the answer.

“sí señorita.” Cathy’s reply was quick and timid.

Catherine turned to Anne, “First, you stole my husband, then you stole my crown, and now you steal my goddaughter?!” 

“Oh, I stole more than that from her,” Anne winked at Cathy who couldn’t hold her laugh as she remembered the recent events. She buried her head in the Boleyn girl’s shoulder to try and stifle it. Forgetting all about the angry Spaniard, Anne kissed the top of Cathy’s curls and smiled fondly down at her. 

That wasn’t normal. Catherine of Aragon knew how Anne Boleyn worked when it came to a relationship. She would look at her target with a seductive smirk and a classic wink, she would follow them around before leading them out the room in the dark and alone. Anne Boleyn would destroy families and ruin a country. Manipulate the king and destroy the church, but she would never look at someone with such value. 

In all the years Catherine had been alive she has never seen Anne Boleyn blush as much as she did now or look at someone with so much compassion and… love? 

“No me importa que seas gay” Aragon finally sighed. 

Cathy swiftly removed her head from Anne’s shoulder to translate, “I don’t care that you are gay.” 

“And I shouldn't care who you date either.” Catalina looked at the interlocked fingers. “Forgive me for being so crude, it was a shock.” 

“It was a shock to me too!” Anne quipped but received a slap from Cathy. 

“I apologise for my use of language too, it was-”

“Descriptive?” Cathy finished. 

“Extremely.” It was still a little awkward between the trio, but ‘Lina was determined to settle things, “I just want you to know that I accept you both as family and as lovers.” 

“Thank you, ma.” 

“I really appreciate it.” 

“Now, I know the others will be getting back soon so we should really get started on breakfast.” 

“Let me reheat your coffee, babe.” Anne carefully took the mug from Cathy, who whispered a ‘thank you.’ 

“I have to admit,” Aragon cleared her space on the table and handed her goddaughter the placemats, “You make a pretty good couple.” 

“Right?!” Anne beamed with delight,

“Does anyone else know?” Catherine continued, 

“Only Katherine and you. We both wanted to keep it on the down-low, but Anne said I should tell you because you’re family.” Cathy explained.

“Well, I’m glad you told me, even if it took some convincing. And know that I’m here for the both of you if anyone tries anything!” 

“We’re back!” The younger cousin’s voice echoed off the walls, and she bounced into the kitchen to see Cathy kissing Anne’s cheek as she was handed her mug and ‘Lina placing the apple juice on the table. 

“Did the air work?” Cathy asked Kitty as she took her seat next to Anne around the table,

“I feel younger already!” 

“I’m definitely going to be immortal by the end of the century.” Anna threw her hoodie over the back of her chair and poured herself some apple juice as Jane finally walked in. 

Once everyone was sat, Anne nodded at Kat from across the table and tried to suppress and smile as Cathy subtly linked their arms together. A small gesture of affection which had humungous meaning.

#parrlyn #anne boleyn #Catherine Parr #Anne Boleyn x Catherine Parr #six the musical #six #catherine of aragon #Katherine Howard #anna of cleves #jane seymour #we fell in love in october #parrleyn #OneShots #one shot #parrlyn fanfiction #parrlyn fanfic

[kiarcheo]

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!’

#six the musical #parrward #six the musical fanfiction #beheaded cousins #catherine and cathy #six fanfiction #six katherine howard #six cathy parr #six anne boleyn #six catherine of aragon #six the musical fic #six fic #mywork #my ideas #six writing #my posts #my six posts #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #six catherine parr #howard x parr #parr x howard

[janeyseymour]

Silly Streaks

Someone had the idea that Jane makes all of the other queens break on stage because in an interview, the broadway queens said that Abby made Brit break a lot, and Brit and Sam both voiced that Abby is really funny, so uh... have a broadway SiX fic?

When the queens were out and about, each queen had their own place. Catherine of Aragon strutted confidently down the sidewalks of New York City, often leading the pack because she wasn’t afraid of the hustle and bustle of the city. Anne Boleyn was often bouncing between the front and back of the herd, trying to convince Aragon or Seymour to let her going into the M&M store or the Hershey store. Jane Seymour stuck to the back of the group, making sure that each of her fellow queens was in front of her. Being almost a head taller than some of them had its advantages. She was almost always able to catch Anne as she tried to sneak into the candy store for the millionth time that week. Anna of Cleves was often at the front of the pack too because she walked very quickly despite her lack of height. She wanted to be fit, lunge-walking almost anywhere she went. She also was not afraid to use her voice and ask people to “watch where they’re going because you really just almost trampled me”. Katherine Howard was more on the quiet side and wandered somewhere in the middle of the pack, airpods in and music blasting. Cathy Parr also found herself in the middle somewhere because she was just quiet. Never wanting to bother a soul, she let herself stay in the middle because she knew the first or fourth queen would clear the way for her while whoever was at the back didn’t mind the occasional shove they might get. 

When the queens were being interviewed, it was about what people expected. Catherine spoke with as much regality and elegance as you would think. She wasn’t queen for 24 years for nothing. She almost never spoke in slang (aside from the show). Anne Boleyn was always referring to more current things, and even showed off that she knew exactly who the “Spice Girls” were (“Anne, what the hell is a spice girl, and what kind of recipe would I even put it in?” Jane asked one day out of curiosity. “Oh Janey,” the second queen laughed. “They’re a band that came out in the 90s.” “Oh,” the blonde remarked, just a bit dumbfounded as to why they would name themselves after cooking ingredients.) Anna of Cleves had her own way with words, catchphrases of hers becoming quite apparent. (“Dude that’s sick!” “Punch it out! Punch it out!”) Katherine was a feisty one. She spoke with words that dripped with sarcasm, but she was never too rude about it. She offered her thoughts when asked, but for the most part she just played with the end of her ponytail. Cathy Parr was a quiet one. She spoke carefully; her syntax was impeccable even if she did stutter and stumble over her words every once in a while. She was not quite as graceful as her godmother, but she certainly wasn’t like Anne or Anna. And Jane Seymour, perhaps the quietest of the group, watched the others speak with a bright smile on her face- a clear sign that she was so proud of her girls. When she spoke, it was to agree with the others or express her gratitude for the support. Rarely did she add in her own thoughts other than “We are just so humbled by the love and support from the Queendom”. Occasionally after another queen would speak, she would quietly add on a “Yas Queen” or a simple “Preach”. 

Little did the Queendom know that the most reserved queen was actually the funniest when the cameras or spotlight weren’t on her. This came to light during a few interviews.

“Hey guys, a fan account just asked if we’d go live to do an interview with them? Are you guys all down?” Anne bounced out of her bedroom. The other five were quick to agree, so here they were. All settled down on or in front of their couch, laughing as the teen asked them questions.

“Okay, so who is the funniest queen?” All of the queens aside from Jane glanced at each other with knowing looks before the first queen spoke up.

“Okay, so we’ll let you in on a little secret. We know the queendom thinks that the funniest is probably Bo-loser, but it’s actually Janey.”

“I- What?” Jane sputtered out. “I’m not that-”

“Don’t listen to her guys,” the green queen laughed. “She’s hilarious.” Jane opened her mouth to object to this statement, but Kat beat her to it.

“You know, we all have our silly days, but when Jane does, it’s amazing. She’s like, always just like,” Kat giggled slightly. “saying that one thing under her breath, and maybe you’ll hear it, but not everyone will hear. And when you do hear it, you’re like ‘Jane what?!’ She is so funny.”

“Seriously though. Seymour makes me laugh on stage all the time. She’ll like, pop an eyebrow when I break and just go ‘baby’ before continuing on with whatever she’s doing. Or like, right before the curtain goes up for the beginning of the show she’ll say something that has me dying laughing. I have to like, get it together before my first line.”

“I had no idea you guys thought that way,” Jane admitted quietly, a small blush creeping up on her face.

“That’s hilarious,” the interviewer commented.

One night, a few days after the instagram live interview had taken place, the girls were on stage when something happened. Anna’s fake nail popped off.

“What the-” the fourth queen muttered. Instantly, Jane was behind her murmuring under her breath.

“Wait, I got you,” The third queen, feeling particularly silly that night, leaned away from her microphone for a minute and turned upstage before popping one of her own nails off and throwing it off stage.

“Jane what the-” Anna began to howl with laughter to the point where even when her microphone was held away from her face, the sound was being picked up.

Jane quirked an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with a glint of mischievousness. “Baby,” she mouthed.

“Jane!” the red queen only continued to laugh, directing the attention towards her and the third queen. 

“Uh, guys? I’m kind of in the middle of my roast right now, so if you would let me continue, that’d be-” Katherine was cut off by more of Anna’s laughter. 

“I-I-I-” the fourth queen tried to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry. Seymour is just-” At the mention of her name, the blonde blushed. “-My nail popped off, and she literally ripped one of her own off. Who the hell does that?”

“Oh my god,” the other four queens started to laugh, as did the audience. 

“The magic of live theater?” Jane offered with a shrug of her shoulders. “So sorry Kat, you can continue now.”

“And Jane, dying of natural causes.... When will justice be served?” Katherine threw her hands up in exasperation, much like she did in every other show. Tonight though, Jane was still feeling a bit silly. In turn, she rolled her eyes like she did so often before retorting, “When will justice be served?”

The five other queens bit back a laugh before Katherine repeated her question. The two went back and forth a few times before Jane snorted, “Okay love, move on. We’ve beaten this joke to death.”

“What the-” Anna began howling again.

“Everyone notices Jane can’t dance!” The green queen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy as she made this joke. The blonde had tripped a few times this show, once landing her on the floor in a heap. 

“And Anna can’t keep her fingernails on,” Jane chose to fake-scoff back instead of going about her stammering.

The queens had gone about finishing their show and heading to stagedoor as usual when Jane was met with a swarm of fans she usually didn’t find herself in. Most people normally flocked towards Katherine or Anne, fan favorites of the show. 

“I, uh, hi?” Jane waved awkwardly at the fans who were crowding her, not that she minded. Sometimes, it was nice for the docile queen to be recognized for being a bit more chaotic.

“Jane, you were so funny tonight. I don’t know how you thought of that stuff so quickly, but it was truly gold.”

“Oh that’s just me having the brain capacity of an onion,” Jane muttered to herself, but the fan in front of her picked up on it.

“I-” the fan laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“Did I say that out loud?” the blonde face palmed herself.

“Can you please write that on my playbill?” Another fan who heard laughed.

From that day on, the third queen would allow herself to voice her thoughts a bit more freely in the show; none of the other queens minded. It was nice to show the queendom that even in the stereotypes they had been placed in for the show, they were real people. Jane may have always been known as the quiet and most demure queen, but every once in a while, she released her inner chaos. And you never knew what was going to come out of her mouth.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour #six broadway

[phoenix-manga]

[DCA Event] - Six Queens Event Part 6

[Parr - I Don’t Need Your Love]

Rozeline could feel the ghost send emotions of pent up frustration and regret. But unlike the others that synchronized with their ghosts, Rozeline boldly let her own feelings clash with the ghost. She intends to make the ghost understand her vision, her true intentions for the six of them. For a while the ghost struggled but soon it mellowed out and synchronized with her emotions.

Her eyes glowed blue but it was a soft glow compared to the bright ones that the other five girls had.

She looks to the girls who are currently unstable and for a moment the ghosts were the ones talking to her instead of the students. She needs to let the ghosts know that they CAN have their chance at a happy ending but taking over them will NOT grant them that chance.

Rozeline: No, no, no, stop, stop! I really don’t think it’s a good idea.

Allison (Boleyn): Literally, what are you on about, mate?

Rozeline: Like… “Let’s see what has the biggest cheer, being murdered by your husband or experiencing the trauma of losing a baby.” Are we really gonna do this?

Briar (Seymour): Um, I’m pretty sure we’ve been doing that for the last hour, so.

Rozeline: But… miscarriages. Come on, surely, that’s one step too far.

Vidya (Cleves): Ooh, someone has a conscience all of a sudden.

Cerule (Howard): Ooh, “I’m Catherine Parr, I draw lines in arbitrary places.” Blah-blah!

Evonie (Aragon): She just knows she’s not gonna win.

Briar (Seymour): I’m sure she doesn’t even have a story to tell.

Rozeline: Yeah… you know what? I will tell you a story.

Rozeline signals the band to play something less lively and the lights dim. and the song starts. She starts singing about the queen’s misfortune of having to leave her true love to be with the king because the royal chose her and she can’t say no. The audience is focused on Rozeline and the ghosts’ possession slowly fades as they listen to her singing. A rush of emotions go through the ghosts and girls, the grief and heartache they’ve felt and the sorrow of not having to live the best life they dreamed of. Slowly turns into determination and courage.

Then the song starts to become lively as Rozeline begins to sing about how she is through with the king’s B.S. and this show is about the QUEENS!

At the pause of her song, Rozeline looked to the girls and asked the reason why this particular king and his six wives was the one history remembers and when she asks them if they remembered who the wives of the of the previous kings were, but for some reason they don’t know.

Rozeline states that the reason why the eight king was remembered was not because of his way of ruling but because of his SIX WIVES. At that, the ghosts felt a spark of realization as they looked to Rozeline.

Soon the ghosts started to lessen their possession and sync with the girls as they came to Rozeline and sang back up vocals, they all start to glow as the sorrowful atmosphere changed to a more upbeat tone and the queens started to dance to the tune.

The audience liked the last song and the message conveyed. Jack was emotionally touched since the story of a woman who is letting go of her past to be happy is tugging on his heart so much. When the girls start to glow at the end, Lilia and Crowley were confused as to what was happening but then they realized the entire situation just from seeing the glowing colors coming from the girls. The thought going through their heads were, “So, those ladies reached out to you this time...”.

At the end of the song, the girls looked to the audience and asked if they want to see a royal happy ever after. The crowds cheered loudly.

Cerule: Well we don’t have one...

Audience: *Laughs*

Evonie: We wish we could tell you that we had happy endings but the reality is that we don’t...

Briar: And there is nothing we can do to change that...

Vidya: Ever... OH WAIT! Since this is our show, we can have any ending we want!

Allison: We’re going to give you our slightly edited version of what really happened because...

Rozeline: We’re SIX!

[Finale - We’re Six]

The finale starts to play and the girls started to bounce to the song and the audience clapped to the song as the lights shine a bright gold on the six queens.

Queens: We’re one of a kind, no category~ Too may years, lost in history

We’re free to take our crowning glory for five more minutes...

We’re SIX~ whoa whoa we’re six

Audience:

As they sang the song, they could feel the ghosts’ joy and at the end of the song as the confetti and stage fireworks go off. The glowing stopped and their eyes turned back to normal but the audience didn’t notice apart from Lilia and Crowley.

The possession was lifted and the show was a success. The applause was nearly deafening as the crowd was yelling “Queens!” and “Love you gurl!” amongst the noise.

At the backstage, the other dorm leaders were there at the back, Elu and Jinlong were by the stage control panel and Ella was congratulating them on the successful show and Perrine was helping the others take off their costume.

As soon as the audience started to leave the building those of NRC stayed behind to congratulate their friends.

Vil and Divus were talking with Ella about how the costumes were brilliant. And Evonie was beside Ella during the whole exchange, she flinches when Divus makes eye contact with her. He offers to make her a model for his next fashion show but she ran off before he could finish. She has HEARD what happened during the Fairy Gala from Elu who was told by Ruggie and she does NOT want to step foot into that hell hole!

Divus: How about I make you  model in one of my fashion shows!~

Evonie:

Allison is being chased around by Riddle cause she teased him on how red he got during some acts and her saying a dirty joke to get him to choke was worth it. The boy ain't having it as he is ready to off her head while Cater and Trey chase after them. Allison in the distance yelling, "sorry not sorry!"

Kalim was blushing red as he congratulates Vidya on her performance. Jamil on the other hand, the moment he got to talk to her he is wondering how she could copy his moves just by looking, Vidya replies with sword fighting. Just sword fighting. Not the answer that he’s expecting but okay...

Azul was fidgeting and was shocked when Cerule came out wearing her usual uniform. Azul cannot comprehend as he compared the Cerule on stage and the Cerule in front of him. The difference is mind boggling to him. Cerule asked what’s wrong and Jade and Floyd got this glint in their eyes and was about to spill it before Azul struck the back of their legs with his magic. The twins did, in fact, noticed his blushing face during the show and yes, they will use it to tease him.

Azul: Oh uh.. You’re in your uniform again!...

Twins: huehuehue~

Briar was greeted by the Diasomnia boys with Lilia pulling out a bouquet out of nowhere. Lilia and Malleus congratulate her with the show’s success and were surprised at how they were moved by her singing. Sebek is singing praises because to be able to move the young master to tears must mean that she was skilled in the art of theater. Silver just pats her shoulder but then looks at her as if he understood that she was singing out her heart too, but Briar can’t tell.

Jack and Ortho are chatting with Rozeline and for a moment she looked at Jack and he looked back at her. No words were exchanged but they both knew what the other was thinking. Rozeline hopes that Jack wouldn’t be skinned, who would take care of his poor cactus then?

All in all, those who attended the showing had a good time, at least the students who get to be exempted for that day... They’re happy until Professor Trein wants an essay based on what thy know about the history of Henry the VIII and his six wives.

Trein: Those who attended the play must write an essay on what you know about the six wives of the eighth king.

Deuce: I f*cking called it!

NRC Students: SHHHHHIIIII-

[Extra]

This moment shook Riddle the fourth time if you count the other times he got shook while watching the stage play.

Allison: Oh, I get it. Since the only thing we have in common is our husband, grouping us is an inherently comparative act and as such unnecessarily elevates a historical approach ingrained in patriarchal structures… Yeah... I read.

Riddle: 

#phnx #dca #diamond crown academy #dca headcanon #headcanons #dca events #twst oc #twst #twisted wonderland oc #six queens event #six

[sweetestrequiems]

Wishing for the Normal

Summary: When Catherine Parr and Anne Boleyn go to Peaks for their open mic night to support Katherine Howard, the couple get pulled up by the young woman to sing a duet. With a giggle, she, and the three other ladies at their table cheer them on. Boleyn and Parr grab the microphones, and just hope for the best from this experience.

Character(s): Parrlyn (Anne Boleyn / Catherine Parr) Katherine Howard Jane Seymour / Catherine of Aragon (Catalina) / Anna of Cleves

A/N: Kit + Soho Cinders + Parrlyn = Ideas.

Moral of the story: don’t leave me alone to think. I will think and it will come out on paper. This is inspired by Soho Cinders’ most iconic number, “Wishing for the Normal.”  Because this takes place in the universe of Out of a Book, some of the references and places might not make sense. It will all be explained in due time. And you all can bet your little tails the whole song is written out.

This is also my apology to all of you who dealt with my total chaos earlier. I love all of you and I am so sorry you had to witness me being a huge nerd and evil gremlin.

Tag List: @bchcadcd | @watercolored-lemonade

––––––––––

Thursday nights were for coffee, laughter, and open mic nights at Peaks Coffee Company.

It was a tradition, for the six ladies to go to Peaks whenever Katherine was back in town from classes. It happened to be the winter break, and the ladies were all excited to go out together. It was about 7 on the dot when the ladies got there. Catherine gently pulled on Anne’s arm, leading her to one of the cozy corners. Close enough that they could see Katherine perform whenever she decided to go up there, but far enough that the two could have a nice conversation. It was bliss for the two of them, as they thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, even with other people around. “I always love coming here with you, Cathy,” Boleyn whispers, leaning on Parr and resting her head on Parr’s shoulder. “There’s just good memories with this place. I feel like such a saddo for saying that.”

“Don’t. And you’re no saddo! I agree, this place... it has very nice memories,” Parr chuckled. With a glance up, Parr noticed the other ladies approaching. Catalina set one of the mugs down in front of Parr, and another in front of Boleyn. Sitting up, Boleyn nodded as a thank you, a smile coming across the mellow face. Katherine sat right next to Parr, Jane was right in front of Katherine, Catalina was in front of Parr, and Cleves was in front Boleyn. “I swear, I wonder how I would live without you, Lina,” bringing the mug up to her lips, Cathy took a sip of her coffee. Catalina just shook her head, grinning. “You wouldn’t be alive at all. You would literally die from drinking nothing but coffee and not eating.”

Laughter came from Cleves and Seymour.

“Considering all she does is stay in her room, yeah. I don’t doubt it! Sie schläft auch nicht, oder?” Anna gave a cheeky smile, with Catherine’s face being so deadpan at the comment, she just chose to roll her eyes as a response. “I do sleep, thank you very much. It only takes me three hours to fall asleep because I spend two of those writing.” Catalina raised an eyebrow at the response, knowing Parr stayed up late at night unless she had to be up before 8 am. There was more laughter at the table.

“Sleeping is important,” Seymour nodded over at Katherine, “and this one could tell you all about it. You slept last night when you got home, right?” The youngest of the ladies nodded with sincerity. “Yeah! I stay up late sometimes with homework, Miss Parr. If I learned one thing about uni, it’s that balancing sleep and homework is difficult. So I definitely get why you stay up at night. I do the same thing,” Katherine allows her smile to shine, Parr letting out a bit of a laugh. “You’re not wrong. Balancing sleep and work is very difficult. Now, how long are you going to keep us waiting, star in hiding?”

That’s where the mischievous smirk came from Katherine Howard. “I’m not singing tonight, actually.”

The other five women stared at Katherine with wide eyes, in actual shock that the reason they normally came on Thursday nights was not the center of attention. Digging through the backpack she brought, the youngest of the group pulled out a binder, and handed it to Parr. A second one got pulled out, and was handed to Boleyn; the third she kept in front of her. “I’m showing off my piano skills tonight, and you two are going to sing for me while I play!”

The look on Anne Boleyn’s face was one of fear, and the one on Catherine Parr’s face was total embarrassment. The couple looked at each other, and gulped in unison. Boleyn had a blush running across her face, but more notably across her cheeks and nose. “I... Sing? You want us to sing?”

“Why not?”

Parr felt her face lose color. “I... we’re not singers, Katherine.” This was the instance where Parr reached for the coffee and began to down it like water on a hot day. Catalina raised an eyebrow, with a more confused look this time. Anna however, began to actually laugh. She knew that habit of hers all too well. Jane was looking at Katherine with furrowed eyebrows, but her face was full of confusion, much like Catalina’s. Sucking in a nervous breath, Parr stood up, setting the mug down. “Okay, Katherine. I’ll sing.”

Anne Boleyn let out a shaky sigh, but she nodded and also stood up. “I’ll do it too. What are we singing, Kat?”

Standing up, Katherine took her binder and opened it up, skipping to the keyboard up on the stage. She sat down on the chair, setting up with a little too much excitement. All she did was let her right hand play the first few measures of the song. “Wishing for the Normal from Soho Cinders! I’m sure you’ve both heard of it. You’re both English, right?” A rather awkward moment of silence, before the two women nodded. “This will be fun, come on!”

If there was one thing Katherine loved about majoring in music, it was the fact she got to play piano. She loved it. And just to make Anne and Catherine feel comfortable, she slowed down the beginning.

Raising the microphone up to be near her lips, Anne hid the nervousness with a smile. “Just imagine pouring your cornflakes, looking up and someone's there. Someone you have just spent the night with, someone’s life you're proud to share! Haven't put my face on, haven’t done my hair. Haven't had to worry, as it’s her standing there.”

The piano began to pick up a little pace. Catherine was going to match it, with a similar smile to Anne’s. “Just imagine out on the dance floor, turning ‘round and there she is. It's your lady, the one you came in with, three years on, your hand in hers. Living in a semi, maybe have a cat. Nothing that's too fancy, tell me what's wrong with that?”

Looking up from the music for a brief moment, Katherine Howard began to smile.

The couple looks at each other, the nervous smiles seeming to grow into genuine ones. The two nodded, knowing they had to sing on together. “Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Nothing too excessive or extreme. Hoping for the hum-drum, is that aiming high? Others seem to find it, tell me why on earth can't I?”

Catalina’s jaw could honestly hit the floor with how impressed she was. Anna just had a wide-eye expression that screamed her shock for her. Jane was thoroughly impressed by all of this, but mostly by Katherine’s piano playing ability. 

“Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Trouble is they're harder than they seem. Am I too ambitious? Am I out of touch? Am I wishing for too much?”

Frantically flipping the pages, both ladies chuckled while the piano kept on going behind them. Lucky Parr, she got to start off this time. “Just imagine cooking lasagna, like those adverts on TV.” And the biggest smile came out of Boleyn with this line. She just felt all warm and fuzzy from the fact she was spending time with her girlfriend. “Sitting on a fake leather sofa, babies bouncing on my knee.”

“Living within reason, loving when I can. Feeling I am someone, not some sad old lass.”

Almost instinctively, as if she knew Katherine would start playing softer, Anne made her voice softer. She could only hope Catherine would follow. The other three at the table began to smile, quietly cheering them on from their spot. “Just imagine mowing the lawn.”

And the hopes came true, because Parr did soften up her voice. “Just imagine popping some corn.”

Even Katherine Howard herself was cheering them on from the piano. She wanted to laugh, but really couldn’t, so... she did what she does best. Giggle it out.

Boleyn’s free hand reaches down for Parr’s, with the two allowing their fingers to interlock. The look on her face said it all, she was smitten by this woman in front of her. “Just imagine breakfast in bed.” “Just imagine owning a shed,” Parr let out a chuckle right after the lyrical line. She was not one to sing, but this was an exception she was happy to have made. Memories were all she wanted, and memories was what she was getting.

“Just imagine doing the school run.”

“Going for picnics.”

“Keeping a goldfish!”

A laugh from the two. They nodded again, allowing themselves to sing right on through to the end. “Wishing, wishing! Hoping for the hum-drum, is that aiming high? Others seem to find it, tell me why, why, why can’t I? Wishing for the normal kind of dream. Trouble is they’re harder than they seem.”

At this point, the table was standing up. Catalina was nodding along with Anna, but Jane? Jane was already clapping. “Go ladies!” The blonde woman giggled, happy to see some of her now closest friends so happy with each other.

“Going to a nightclub, cinemas and such,” Boleyn’s eyes finally met Parr’s. “Eating in a restaurant, happy to go dutch,” the smile on Parr’s face grew from seeing Boleyn’s smile grow as well. 

“Am I too ambitious? Am I out of touch? Am I wishing far too much?” And while the two lovebirds stared at each other, their young pianist allowed herself to continue the instrumental, even playing the accompaniment to the last few lyrics they had forgotten. Laughing, Katherine Howard stood up and started clapping. “You two sounded amazing!”

“Go Cathy!” “Way to go Anne!” “I’m proud of you, Kitty!”

The couple just kept looking at each other, with laughs eventually coming from them both. As much nerves as they had to fight, they loved every second of it. Being just a smidge taller, Catherine Parr leaned downwards to peck Anne Boleyn’s lips, but little was she expecting for Anne to actually stand on the tips of her toes to meet her halfway. “You sly little rascal you!”

“You love me.” Anne set the microphone back on the stand, before grabbing the binder off of the stand and walking herself back to the table. Parr just laughed, repeating all of Anne’s actions before sitting down next to her. Katherine Howard, however, remained on the stage and allowed herself to continue to play whatever came to her mind. For the duration of however long they would stay, there would be a newfound sort of joy in the ladies, and the soft lullaby of a piano in the background. 

#Out of a Book #Kano Drabbles #Parrlyn #Catherine Parr #Anne Boleyn #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six ff #Six x Soho Cinders

[qualquercoisa945]

I Craft My Words To Fit Your Head, Cause No One Listens To The Dead

AO3 Link

Title Inspiration- Monster by Dodie

S U P suckers, we're back!! sorry this took so long, i planned to post it on april 10th since that would be the one year anniversary of the original one, but obviously that didn't happen. regardless, here it is, i hope you like it!!!

Trigger Warnings- discussion of abuse, discussion of sexual abuse

To be fair, Kath had a point.

It was because of that that Anne hadn’t said a word during her cousin’s rant last night- unlike Jane, who seemed to believe, at least to a certain extent, that Henry truly loved her (something that pissed her off royally), she had enough common sense to realize that, in between the beheading and emotional abuse and everything else that had happened, he didn’t love her. And she had assumed it hadn’t been all that much better for her fellow queens.

So truthfully, Anne didn’t disagree with her cousin’s point of view. What she did disagree with, at least to a certain extent, was the way she has spoken to everyone else. But truthfully, she couldn’t be mad at her for it. Well, really she was mad, but she was also rational enough to know exactly why false promises of love and denial of abuse had her as fired up as she had gotten.

That didn’t mean, however, that the tense atmosphere of the house didn’t have her feeling absolutely awful. As well as her cousin’s absence well after the time she would usually be down, even on days off.

Regardless, she forced herself to finish her breakfast before moving to the living room. She grimaced slightly when she saw she wouldn’t be alone, forcing herself to swallow it down when she saw who it was- Aragon.

On careful footsteps, she walked over to the couch, where the first queen was sitting, staring blankly at her book- if Anne was being honest with herself, she didn’t think she was taking in any of the words on the page. She sat down beside her at a comfortable distance, wincing with a sheepish smile when her band mate startled at the sudden company.

“Sorry.” She spoke softly, maintaining that same awkward smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“Of course.” Anne had to hold back an eye roll at the way Catherine straightened up as she hurriedly replied, watching as she went back to looking at her book.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Anne insisted, and had to bite back a slight smirk at Catherine finally looking her in the eyes. “I mean, about yesterday. We were all shaken up about it, and I could tell you were too. I’m not blind, and like it or not, I’ve known you since last time as well- I know how you act.”

Catherine glared at her, then shifted her gaze back towards her book, much to Anne’s annoyance. “I’m fine. And if I weren’t, you certainly wouldn’t be the one I would go to for help.”

She huffed softly at that, then shrugged as she stood up. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in my room.” She promised, voice oddly gentle when it came to who she was talking to. Then she made her way upstairs.

Or, well, tried to. Because she was halted halfway up when her eyes met familiar brown ones. Anne met her cousin’s gaze calmly, noting with a soft concern how dazed her eyes looked, then looked away as the two went their separate ways.

Still, she couldn’t resist looking back as she reached the top of the stairs, watching silently as Kath turned the corner.

---------------------------------

It was far later, sometime after the other queens had gone to bed, in yet another night where Anne’s insomnia had decided to act up and she found herself nursing a cup of tea at the kitchen table, when Anne heard movement- a door opening, followed by near silent footsteps heading down the stairs. She stayed dead silent as she listened, waiting to see what whoever it was would do, then froze as Kath appeared in the doorway.

The two met each other’s gaze silently, before Anne decided to break it. “Hey.” She greeted simply, though not unkindly, as she motioned for Kath to join her, something Kath seemed to do near instantly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Anne nodded in response, and she couldn’t help a smile as Kath laid her head on her folded arms. “Me either.”

Silence once again settled on the room, and Anne watched as her cousin’s knee began bouncing- an old habit she’d never actually broken. She couldn’t help but let it linger for a bit longer, then finally spoke, ignoring the shakiness to her voice.

“You weren’t…” She hesitated, but Kitty’s curious gaze let her know she would probably have to finish her sentence. “You weren’t the only one he, forced himself onto.” She watched as her cousin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then as her face fell as it hit her.

“Yeah.” She said simply, a rueful smile gracing her features. “I mean, I always knew that, and the beheading, were abuse, I guess. I’m not stupid, even if I act like it. But uh, the rest… I dunno, I guess it just never hit me that it… wasn’t my fault, you know?” She sighed softly, then turned to fully look at Kitty, who was watching her intently. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is that like, you putting it like that… Well, the shouting and shit was uncalled for, really, but I get why you were mad, and it did help me understand that. So, thank you.”

Anne bit the inside of her lip as Kitty stared at her for a few moments, then almost stumbled off her chair as her cousin all but flung herself into her arms.

Of course, she caught her.

She pulled Kitty tight against her, letting the girl bury her face in her shoulder and stay in her arms for as long as she needed to. She let go only when she started to pull back, sitting down and fixing the few stray hairs that had flew onto her face. “I’m sorry you ever had to go through all of that.” Kitty finally murmured, and Anne had to swallow dryly to keep a knot from forming in her throat.

Silence fell again, but softer this time- warmer. Or at least it did until Kath spoke up once again.

“Annie?” Anne turned to face her cousin, tipping her head ever so slightly to the side as she gave her a questioning look. “Why… do you act like what happened to you wasn’t a big deal?” She froze at the quiet question, forcing her body to relax immediately after.

“I’ve got a reputation, kid. Gotta say what keeps it.” She replied with a shrug, avoiding the frown her cousin was giving her.

“That’s not all of it and we both know that.” Anne bit back a frown as Kitty’s soft tone turned steady, almost sharp. “Anne, you realize we all have facades, right? I’m not blind, and I’m certainly not stupid. Catherine’s not as high and mighty as she acts, Cat- Parr-” She said her name with a forced formality, a hint of hurt in her tone- “cares a hell of a lot more than she acts like she does. And I know you do too. You’re smart too- I know I’m just telling you stuff you already know. But why do you keep acting like you’re just a goofball? An- And why do you act like what happened to you wasn’t a big deal?” Anne tensed up just slightly as Kitty began moving her hands about, forcing her body to relax near immediately after as her cousin turned to face her with an inquisitive gaze, as if examining her (and if Anne were being honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if that were exactly the case).

She held Kitty’s gaze silently for a few moments, before shrugging as she looked away. “Someone’s gotta be the fun one. ‘S not like being anything else got me far last time.” She kept staring straight at the table, even as she heard a soft “Annie…” from her side, or a hand squeeze hers, a gesture she weakly returned.

“‘M sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I know I don’t make much sense.”

“You still deserve your privacy.”

“You and I both know I’m too stubborn to ever do something I don’t actually want to do.”

She heard a soft, fond chuckle from beside her, eliciting a soft smile from herself as she stood up, turning to face a confused-looking Kath. Then she opened her arms, her smile turning ever so slightly awkward before Kitty all but flung herself into her arms. She pulled her cousin even tighter against herself, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple in harsh contrast to her tight hold. “I love you.” She whispered into Kitty’s hair, barely even a breath with how quiet it was.

She felt Kitty perk up at the quiet words, and for a moment she was worried she’d overstepped, but then Kitty buried her nose in the crook her neck, and Anne couldn’t resist mimicking her actions, letting out a tiny chuckle at the soft “love you too” that her cousin mumbled into her skin, just below the choker that covered up her scar.

The pair stayed like that for a while- whether a few seconds or a few minutes, Anne wasn’t sure. The warm silence that had settled in around them was cut, however, by a slightly muffled yawn from Kitty. Anne pulled away just enough to look at her cousin, unable to hold back an amused smile. “Maybe you should head on upstairs, Kitty.” Kitty nodded with another yawn, and Anne let out a soft chuckle, more of an amused exhale, before kissing her hairline. “Go get some rest. Oh, and, tonight stays between us, okay?”

Kitty gave her an amused smirk, and Anne’s own smile faded just a bit at just how much like herself she looked in that moment, before linking pinkies with her cousin. “Pinky promise with a cherry on top.”

Anne watched as her cousin left, before chuckling softly as she grabbed her basically empty mug to go clean it before she headed to bed, letting out a yawn of her own.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfics #six #six fanfics #writing #Katherine Howard #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon

[dreamcatcherfication]

Ghosts Are Just as Real as You and Me - Part 4

READING GLASSES CATHY PARR RISES!

*clears throat* Well then. Chapter four, never thought I’d make it this far. This is actually the longest chapter yet, reaching about 3250 words. Here we get to jump around and see a little bit of everyone including (what anon asked me about a while ago) Duo Moms Aragon and Jane. This chapter escalates from happy to sad to oh no pretty quickly, so I hope you all enjoy that as much as I did. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my brother was performing ritualistic sacrifices in the living room.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Threats of violence, Henry VIII

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A few days passed with all the queens waiting anxiously for the storm to hit, but life went on as normally as it had before Henry showed up. All the queens became hesitant, unsure of how to support each other when Henry’s reincarnation was uncharted territory. Eventually the tension became too much and Aragon approached Jane before breakfast one morning. “Jane, how would you like to go out for coffee?”

“What?” Jane furrowed her eyebrows. “But I have to make breakfast for the girls, it’s the only time we all still eat together.”

Wincing Aragon put a hand on the countertop. “Well yes, but… I was thinking that if you and I take Kitty out for coffee and muffins this morning -”

Jane caught on to what Aragon was saying. “We’ll be able to get her mind off of everything. You know what Catherine, I actually like that idea.”

Sighing in relief, Catherine moved away from the table and towards the stairs. “Will you finish making breakfast for the others if I go and wake up Kit?”

“One step ahead of you!” Jane called as she flipped some bacon already cooking. Turning around, Aragon made her way up to the second floor and across the way to Kit’s room. Kit was never the last to wake up, but she was never the first either. Chances were she would be shut in her room listening to music or watching television, waiting until Jane called her down for breakfast.

Knocking on the door, Aragon listened until she heard Kit’s voice. “Who is it?” came from within the room, muffled through the door.

“Aragon.”

A hum of confirmation came from Kit, and Aragon entered the room. “Is breakfast ready?” Kit asked, her phone in her hand as she turned off her music.

“About that,” Aragon started, then immediately regretted it when she saw the way Kit’s face dropped. “Jane and I wanted to take you out for coffee and muffins instead today. We thought it’d be nice to get out of the house a bit.”

Eyes lighting up, Kit scrambled off the bed and shot Aragon with the most precious smile on Earth. “Why’d you say it like it’s a bad thing, of course I’ll come with you two!” Exhaling, Aragon couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face at Kitty’s enthusiasm. Lately the girl had been so down on herself that seeing her back to even a sliver of her enthusiastic self was enough for Aragon to feel proud of herself for her coffee idea.

The two of them made their way down the stairs to where Jane was setting out plates for the other queens. Cathy was already at the table with a book in her hands and her reading glasses on. Anna was out on her morning run, sure to return later, and Anne was still in her room sleeping (like she always was). Glancing up, Cathy watched as the three other queens pulled on their shoes and got ready to leave. “Have fun out there you three,” she called, turning the page of her novel.

“Do you want us to bring you anything back?” Aragon asked her God-daughter.

Pondering the offer for a second, Cathy shrugged. “If they have hazelnut muffins, could you grab me one?”

“Sure,” Aragon replied. Jane chuckled, realizing how domestic the exchange was, but she didn’t complain. Kit tugged at her hand and looked pointedly at the door, anxious to get going. It was a change to see Kit so carefree, but it was obvious the girl was trying to push away her doubts. There was still the bit of hesitation before she grabbed Jane’s hand and the cringing when either of the queens spoke too loudly, but Kit was trying. Neither Jane nor Aragon were afraid of coddling Kit when she showed her strength in working to overcome her own problems. In fact, it was a very welcome sight for the queens who had begun to worry.

Jane was the one driving, with Aragon in the passenger seat and Kitty in the back. To a passerby they might’ve looked like a family, and although none of them voiced it, they all had the thought cross their minds. “Which shop are we going to?” Kitty asked, fiddling with her phone without turning it on.

“Coffee and Creme, it’s the bakery down the street,” Jane answered, making a left turn at the intersection.

Kit gasped. “Oh I love their chocolate chip muffins, they’re always so warm.”

Chuckling, Aragon added, “Well we can get you one when we’re there.”

“Really! Jane never lets me eat chocolate in the morning,” Kit leaned forward in her seat. Jane shot Aragon a subtle glare, causing the woman to mouth sorry in response.

But it made Kitty happy, and that was the goal of the outing, so Jane relented. “Just this once, okay Kit? And don’t let us catch you telling Anne about this, or else she’ll never shut up about it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kitty mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

As Jane pulled up to the shop, she groaned when she realized the only parking spot was on the other side of the street. “Alright, you girls hop out and go wait in line while I park. Catherine if you could order for me-”

“I know your order by heart,” Kit cut in, a proud smile on her face.

The two older queens felt smiles grow on their faces without any permission. “Well then, I think Kitty’s got it down pretty well,” Aragon shrugged.

Getting out of the car, Aragon poked her head back in. “I’ll be inside in just a moment, you go ahead with Kitty,” Jane assured.

“You be quick Seymour,” Aragon ordered in a faux-stern voice. Rolling her eyes goodnaturedly, Jane pulled away from the side of the shop and drove to the end of the street. Making a legal u-turn, Jane found the open parking spot on the opposite side of the road and pulled into it. Getting out of the car, Jane made sure to lock the doors before moving to cross the street.

She froze, making eye contact with a man right next to the bakery. It was undeniably Henry, regardless of the different clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t moving, just watching Jane from where he stood. Cold fear gripped Jane’s heart as she was unable to move. Jane blinked multiple times, hoping it was only a trick of the light, but Henry remained where he stood. Taking a step forward, Jane was about to cross the street when a large bus passed in front of her.

The queen jumped back, jerking herself back into reality. Looking at her surroundings, Jane let the noises of the busy street filter back into her mind. Returning her gaze to where Henry was standing, Jane wasn’t surprised to see him gone. Why would he stick around longer than to make sure Jane knew he was watching? Henry was playing a psychological game, and Jane wouldn’t fall for it this time. Not when she had Kit and Catherine, Anna and Cathy and Anne to protect. 

The bell above the bakery door rang when Jane stepped in the shop, her entrance greeted with a “Welcome!” from the peppy barista. Shooting a smile to the barista, Jane made her way over to Kit and Aragon who were seated at a corner table. Kit was happily munching on a giant chocolate muffin with a frappuccino in front of her. Normally Jane would disapprove of all the sugar, but today was an exception. In front of Catherine was a simple cup of coffee with milk and some sugar.

And at the empty third seat for Jane was her order, exactly as she always got it. It consisted of one of the bakery’s shortbread cookies cut in the shape of a heart with cinnamon sprinkled over the top. There was a piping mug of chamomile tea resting next to it, the tea bag still in the drink, just as Jane always had it. Even though Jane had come to the bakery with Kitty multiple times before, it still warmed her heart that the teen remembered her order.

That warmth disappeared when Jane once again reminded herself of the encounter outside the bakery. Clearly, Henry was trying to mess with them, get to them mentally instead of physically. Withholding information from the queens could cause a lot of conflict but, Jane reasoned, it would cause more harm to tell them than to hide it. She couldn’t let the fear return to Kit’s eyes, the fear she and Aragon were trying so hard to ward off. Opening her mouth, Jane attempted to speak, but couldn’t get any words out.

“Jane, is there something on your mind?” Aragon asked, her grin warm and inviting.

There was no way Jane could ruin this picture perfect moment with Kit and Aragon by telling them what she had seen. Instead, Jane shook her head and sat down in the empty seat. “Not at all. Just glad we’re all here together.”

On the other side of town, Anna wasn’t on her morning jog through the park. Anyone who was used to seeing her wouldn’t suspect anything amiss, she had probably just cut her run short. But Anna would have to postpone her morning run for the time being because she had more important places to be. Instead of being out in the park, reveling in the sunlight, Anna was plotting. Plotting every possible way to kill Henry before he could even make another move on Kit or any of the queens.

She had no idea how she would do it, but Anna was going to track Henry down and get to him first. She couldn’t tell any of the other queens for fear they would disapprove or in case Henry was listening (there was so little privacy in the modern world), so Anna only had the companionship of her own mind. 

Her first order of business was signing up at a local boxing arena in order to get fighting experience. It wasn’t the most desirable sport, and Anna much preferred running and weightlifting - non contact sports, thank you very much - but she was willing to do anything in order to increase her chances of winning a fight against Henry.

One of the first things her instructors taught her was that it wasn’t being the biggest or the strongest that made you the winner, it was your skill and endurance. Anna would never be stronger than Henry, that was a given, but if she trained enough, her hope was that she would be able to take him down when she found him. He was slow and fat and probably didn’t have any experience. Anna was young and lean and training, the odds were against him.

In the days since Kit’s confession, Anna had been training as hard and as often as she could, gearing up for a fight that could come at any time. It was on this particular morning when an instructor pulled her to the side. The woman had a high ponytail and must’ve been in her mid twenties, but her muscles were ripped and she clearly had experience. Unable to remember her name, Anna resorted to referring to the woman as “you”, trying to get the conversation over so she could get back to training. “Why are you doing this?” the instructor asked simply, no lead up or extra commentary.

“What do you mean?”

The woman watched a bead of sweat drip down Anna’s forehead. “Why are you working so hard? You showed up less than a week ago and you’ve already advanced faster than anyone else here. So what’s your motivation?”

“I don’t have to tell you that,” Anna said defensively, flexing her hands in the tape wrapped around them.

The woman shrugged, unbothered. “True, you don’t. But sometimes sharing motivations makes it easier to see reason. To pace yourself. The best solution isn’t always working as hard as possible all the time.”

Anna scoffed and ignored the advice. “Yeah, well not all of us have time. If you’ll excuse me,” Anna pushed past the woman and moved back to her punching bag.

“Is it someone in your life?” The woman called. Anna stopped with her fist in the air, about to swing at the bag. “So it is,” the instructor continued, noticing Anna’s hesitation.

“Stop trying to get into my head, okay, it’s not gonna work,” Anna hissed.

The instructor rolled her tongue in her mouth before making a clicking sound. “Maybe you’re trying to protect someone you care about?” Once again, Anna hesitated and cursed herself when the woman’s eyes lit up. “You’re trying to be their night in shining armor.”

“You have no right to violate my privacy -”

“But why? What is threatening them that you feel the need to work so hard?” The woman kept pushing deeper and deeper, hitting all of Anna’s soft spots.

Clenching her fists, Anna swung at the punching bag and watched it go careening in the opposite direction. It wasn’t the most impressive punch, but the amount of anger behind it drained Anna. “Henry. His name is Henry and he has a lot of history with us.”

“Ex lover?”

Anna chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, something like that.” Breathing in deeply, Anna steadied the punching bag. “She’s dealing with a lot, and if I let him get to her again, I’m afraid she’ll break and it’ll be all my fault.”

“Again.” It wasn’t a question, more like an invitation to elaborate.

It wasn’t that Anna didn’t realize she was confiding in a stranger, it was more the comfort of knowing that she could say anything and the instructor would have no idea. “It was my fault the first time, it can’t be my fault the second time. I - I…”

“You love her too much to see her get hurt.”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

On a regular basis, Cathy tended to be pretty concerned about Anne. With her constant shenanigans and chaotic nature, it was hard not to be worried about what trouble the beheaded queen would get into next. But right now, Cathy wasn’t concerned because of what Anne was doing. No, she was concerned about what Anne wasn’t doing. Ever since Anne had gone to her room after talking with Cathy a few nights back, she had been practically AWOL.

Sure, Anne came down to snag food, but then she would immediately disappear back into her room in the attic. Cathy had seen her come from Kit’s room a day earlier, but the strange part was that Kit had been downstairs with Jane. Anne wasn’t making any sounds, but she didn’t seem to be in any kind of distress or slump.

In conclusion, something was wrong with Anne Boleyn, but for the life of her, Cathy Parr could not figure it out. That’s why when Cathy heard someone leaving later that day, she decided to investigate, praying it was Anne. Sure enough, luck was on her side and Anne’s coat was missing from its hanger.

Noting that she was the only person in the house, Cathy realized she had free reign to satisfy her curiosity. Acknowledging how dangerous her curiosity could be, Cathy threw caution out the window and headed directly for Anne’s room. She needed something, any kind of clue as to why Anne was suddenly acting as if the rest of the queens were infected with some deadly disease. Or maybe she’s the one infected, Cathy thought to herself. 

Stopping in front of Anne’s door, Cathy felt her conscience kick in. Is it really okay to violate Anne’s privacy like this? Cathy knew the answer was no and if Anne found out, she’d be pissed, but in that moment Cathy knew she’d never again have this opportunity to - for lack of a better word - snoop.

Opening the door, Cathy made her way into the room. Clothes were strewn about mingled with trash and food crumbs from Anne’s meals. The bed was unmade (of course) and there was an assortment of random items (kazoos, teddy bears, a pair of heelys) in every corner. There was a nightstand next to Anne’s bed, the only thing untouched by all the chaos. Wading through the mass of junk on the floor until she stood in front of the desk, Cathy observed her prize.

It was a journal. That was the last thing Cathy expected Anne to have, but she picked it up anyway. Her reading glasses were resting on her head, so Cathy pulled them down and opened the book. The first page was a doodle (it was surprisingly intricate, Cathy noted) of… herself? The sketch was clearly Cathy, her arm above her head as she slept on the queens’ couch, her glasses askew. Blushing, Cathy read the caption of the picture. Gold star for Cathy Parr, an angel I see.

Frantically, flipping the page, Cathy tried to smother the erratic beating of her heart. She could squeal later about Anne’s drawing. The next page was another sketch, this time of Kitty with a water gun. Cathy remembered the incident over the summer when the queens were out having a water war. The teams were Cathy, Anne, and Anna versus Aragon, Jane, and Kitty. The fight had gotten down to the very end when Kit sprayed Anne, only for Anna to secure a win for her team by taking down Kit. The memory brought a warm feeling to Cathy’s chest, making her smile with a nostalgic fondness.

Flipping further into the book, Cathy came across some of the more recent entries. These ones didn’t make any sense. They were nonsense words like “Double” and “Envelope” and “Instructions”. There was no rhyme or reason to any of the words, and if anything would have been coherent, Anne had scribbled it out with a black pen.

The final page that was written in made more sense. He made it easy for me, a five step plan. I don’t want to help him or do anything he says but Kitty… I went into her room the other day. I was hoping I could find any cameras or wiretaps (I looked it up, they’re easy to get), but there were none. The only choice I have is following instructions. Especially those from the envelope.

Eyes widening as a chill overcame her body, Cathy opened the drawer of the nightstand. Inside was a single, white envelope with Anne’s name on it. Reaching for it, Cathy’s hand closed around the edge when the door downstairs opened with a loud bang!

Releasing the envelope, Cathy closed the drawer and practically sprinted out of Anne’s room. On her way downstairs, Cathy did her best to compose herself so to appear that she had not been snooping. Hanging her coat by the door was Anne, an unmarked bag in her hands. “Hi Anne,” Cathy said, eyeing the bag.

Unaware, Anne gave Cathy a smile that normally would make the girl swoon. “Hi Cathy,” she replied, walking over to the other queen. Anne lifted a hand and Cathy frowned in confusion, only to be answered as Anne carefully pushed the forgotten reading glasses up her nose where they had been slipping off.

“Are you going to hide from us again?” Cathy asked, channeling her passive aggressiveness.

Sighing Anne gave the other queen a forced smile. “I guess I am,” she said before disappearing back to her room. 

---------------------------------------

Tag List: @obliviousasheck

@theatergirl06

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #this fic is getting awfully interesting #like even i don't know what's gonna happen next #parrlyn #cathy parr's reading glasses #yes that's a tag now #i wanted to have fluff but this is why we can't have nice things #anna's a badass #but i headcanon she doesn't really like fighting #she seems like a pacifist who gets really pissed off sometimes #and then there's some more of #duo moms #that's what i call them #duo moms aragon and jane #and their happy daughter kitty #literally only two characters haven't made bad decisions #watch out aragon and kitty you're next #i love reading glasses cathy parr so much #ghosts are just as real as you and me #part four #cathy is whipped for anne #and that's a FACT

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Myth of the Half a Dozen

“Oh, shit, I think I got my timelines wrong…”

Anne Boleyn looked at the orb in her hands, frowning as she seemed to find something that she did not like. Maggie, from over her shoulder, whistled lowly at the orb.

“Did you forget something?”

“I thought I had messaged Cathy yesterday, turns out it was today,” Anne replies. She sighs. “Time travel is always complicated.”

“Hm, fair enough,” Maggie replies, taking the orb gently from Anne’s hands, smiling as she happily moves away and upstairs.

Catherine, looking from the kitchen with Maria close by, narrows her eyes.

“You messaged Cathy yesterday using that… thing?” 

Anne looks over… is she a bit ashamed? Embarrassed?

“Not your Cathy. Another Cathy.” Anne shrugs, looking down and away. 

There’s a tense moment between the first and second queen - one that Maria just has to break.

“Well, that sounds cool. Another Catherine Parr?” Maria looks over at Catherine, smiling. “Two of her would be something, wouldn’t it?”

Catherine looks over, as if a bit startled that Maria even asked her a question. She looks back down at her tea silently. Maria looks back at Anne.

“Do you usually contact this other Cathy?”

“Yeah, actually,” Anne says, relaxing oh-so-slightly at the casual question and non-judgemental tone Maria had. Not that Catherine was judging; it was just… tense. Unsure. “She and I keep in contact almost daily. We work together as much as possible. She’s from decades in the past, though, so it’s not like she can help me now.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Maria sips her tea for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “What’s that Cathy do? The show? You told me there’s a few of those - wait! Is it the Cathy that has the service dog?”

“Pax? No, Kat’s his owner. This Cathy - and her fellow queens - don’t do the show at all. They’re from even before our first life. They’re currently travelling their world to rid it of Henry’s evil influence.” 

Catherine watches Anne carefully as she explains this. She just… says it all so calmly, as if it’s not something absolutely insane. Then again, considering her current situation… is anything that insane anymore?

Anne continues.

“It’s a whole thing, full of mayhem and danger and revolution. Jane betrays everyone, Katherine is pretty badass, Cathy may be the second most powerful person in the world, Anna is the most brilliant military mind in the universe, and she’s got a girlfriend.”

“What about you and me?” Catherine has to ask, looking up at Anne.

“Well,” Anne says, leaning back on her heels. “I’m a rogue that’s gonna get some… interesting… abilities in the next chapter or so-”

“Chapter?” Maria asks, but Anne continues as if that definitely didn’t happen.

“And you? You’re the most powerful person in the universe. Without question. You’re the Blessed Aragon, and you’re going to-”

She stops herself suddenly, seemingly coming back to herself, then chuckles.

“Spoilers, sorry.”

Maria huffs. “Rude.”

Anne laughs. Then, suddenly, she takes something out of her pocket and studies it. It’s a rock, but it’s glowing with soft, Radiant energy.

“Ah, speaking of Cathy, I need to go,” she says, smiling as she looks back at the two. “I’ll be back!” Anne calls back as she rushes to her room.

There’s a moment before Maria looks over at Catherine.

“I know it’s a lot,” Maria says softly. “But would you please keep an open mind like you have been? Just… let the idea in. It sounds… honestly, it sounds like a lot of fun.”

Catherine frowns, looking up at where Anne had left to, and then nods.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” she says, looking up at Maria. Maria offers her a hand, which Catherine takes with a small smile. “It’s just… a lot. That’s all.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t called the Church yet,” Maria jokes, leading her queen upstairs.

“Oh, I gave up on that years ago with Anne, even before the whole witch thing,” Catherine quips back, both chuckling as they head upstairs.

They’re about to go into their room when, suddenly, there’s a flashing light of sickly green energy coming from Anne’s room. Maggie is suddenly thrown out of it, bashing against the wall.

“Mags!” Maria says, immediately tending to her fellow lady. Catherine immediately stands in front of them, shielding them from whatever force caused Maggie harm in the first place. She needs to squint through the light, but when she finally is able to see, her eyes open wide.

“Anne!”

Anne was suddenly floating in the air, some sort of magicks suspending her. Her eyes are pink and she’s completely limp as a woman tries to hold her still. The woman looks up and, for a moment, she falters.

It gives Catherine just enough time.

She rushes forward, pushing the girl away from Anne, immediately defending her friend.

“Get away from her!” Catherine yells.

The invader takes a step back. She seems… for lack of a better word, startled by Catherine’s interference. The invader recovers soon enough, however, and instantly throws Catherine to the side, into one of Anne’s dressers.

Dazed, Catherine can barely hear Maria calling for her, begging her to get up and get out. Through the haze, she can barely see Maria throwing her body on top of hers, even as the enemy advances. 

Everything goes still a moment later.

Time itself seems to have stopped as Catherine looks up and around the place: there’s Anne, still on the floor, unconscious. There’s Maggie, also knocked out, but in safety. She can see a blonde kneeling over the second queen’s lady - Jane must be here, which means the others aren’t too far away. And finally, Maria - HER Maria - once again risking her life to hold her queen for what could be the last time-

Something clicks.

Inside of Catherine’s head, something clicks.

She stands up, and as she does, she feels… something, coming out of the portal from which the enemy came. She feels power surging through her - overwhelming, overpowering, not hers but definitely hers - and it’s a bit too much. She feels herself choking on it, completely washed away by the power, and she wants to deny it everything and anything she has.

That is, until she remembers what Maria said:

“Let it in.”

Catherine stops struggling, closing her eyes, gaining her breath.

There’s a moment of silence. 

Time starts up again.

And suddenly, as the enemy goes for a final blow, Catherine not only catches the spell, but dishes it right back.

The enemy yelps as they’re forced to the ground. Maria looks on in wonder as her queen - HER Catherine of Aragon - stands tall, glowing with Radiant energy, clearly in a world of her own as she protects the people she loves. As the enemy throws spells, Catherine conjures up a sword and shield - familiar to Maria, but also not - and defends.

When the enemy realizes she can’t win, she retreats, through the portal, out of the world.

And the portal blinks out of existence.

Catherine immediately dissolves the sword and shield into orbs of Radiant light, then walks over to where Anne was. The girl is still unconscious, but Catherine holding her seems to have… well, completely revived her. The energy Catherine was feeling - and the energy around her - fades into nothing as she heals up Anne.

Maggie, having recovered, immediately goes over to check on her queen.

“Is she alright?” Maggie asks, clearly concerned and a bit panicked.

“She’s okay, love, I promise,” Catherine replies. Anne slowly but surely awakens, looking around confusedly before looking up at Catherine. Catherine smiles. “I think I understand you a bit more now, Anne.”

Anne sighs, relaxing into the hold. “Is she gone?”

Catherine nods. “Who was that?”

Anne frowns, clearly thinking of a way to say this, and just goes for it a moment later: “Someone who was led astray.” she looks at where the portal just was. “Someone we should be feeling sorry for… but not mercy.”

Hours later, everyone has gathered in the living room. Katherine, who had seen the entire spectacle, is animatedly explaining what happened to Bessie and Joan, who were the only ones not present at the time. Catherine is on her usual chair, curled up to Maria, and Anne is resting on the couch.

“Things certainly got a bit weird today, hm?” Anne asks, looking over at Catherine.

Catherine rolls her eyes. “I still don’t totally understand what you’re doing, Anne, but… it did help a bit,” she admits, drinking some of her wine. “But no summoning portals again, okay? Not until you can do them safer.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Anne replies, mock saluting. “I don’t want to get my ass kicked again, so I’ll definitely be researching a bit more.” she looks over at Maggie, who is keeping close to Anne. Anne chuckles. “I’ll be right as rain in the morning, love, promise.”

“Can we give a quick toast?” Cathy asks, raising her glass. “To Catherine, for saving our dumb asses when no one else could.”

“To Catherine!” the rest yell, and the woman in question rolls her eyes fondly as the rest of the group takes their drinks.

#witchlyn #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #sixfic

[elin-moon]

Part 3: Jane Seymour

How are you today? Me? I’m okay. This took me longer because, not only was I out of ideas and not sure which queen should come next, but I also have a lot of work from school (online school sucks). Sorry this took so long.

Cat and Anne didn’t talk to each other, seeming to through each other glares as they walked back to Cat’s house. It made Cathy feel awkward and she just wished the two would drop it at least until they found the others. Luckily, the younger girls didn’t seem to notice this, as they talked about whatever little girls talked about in this century. 

Once they reached the house, Cat started preparing tea and Anne used a machine to make something that looked like tea but was obviously not. 

“What’s that?” Cathy asked, looking from the living room which was attached to the kitchen. 

“It’s coffea. It’s really good to get your energy up.” she said, filling a mug with the brown liquid. “I don’t really like tea, no offence Catherine.” Anne said, looking at Cat, before taking a sip of her drink and coming into the living room, sitting next to Cathy. Cat soon came as well with two cups of tea, giving one to Cathy. She sat down next to Cathy, leaving Cathy between the other two queens. 

“So, how do you plan on finding the others?” Cat asked, looking at Cathy. 

“Honestly, i don’t know. Up until now, it’s just been good luck.” Cathy said, looking into her cup. “I didn’t really plan for it to be this easy.” 

“Maybe we just need to continue playing it lucky.” Anne said with a smile on her face. 

“We need a plan, Anne. We can’t just wait around until they all show up!” Cat said, getting up from her seat and placing her tea cup down. 

“Catherine, I was just joking-” Anne started before she was interrupted by Cathy. 

“You know what? We’ll figure it out tomorrow. For now, I think we should all just go home and rest.” Cathy said, getting up and placing her unfinished tea cup in the kitchen. Anne opened her mouth to say something, but quickly stopped. Cathy picked up Mae, who was playing on the carpet by herself, and walked to the door. “See you tomorrow! Goodbye!” she said, before leaving the house completely.

                                                                          ----------------------------------------

Once Cathy got home, she put her tired daughter to bed. 

“We’ve had a long day today, haven’t we?” she said, placing Mae in her bed. “I hope you had fun.” she said as Mae’s eyes slowly closed and she fell asleep. Once Mae was asleep, Cathy walked into her bedroom and picked up her pen and paper. She wanted to write, but couldn’t concentrate. The events of today kept going through her head as she thought how to find the other queens. Up until now it had just been good luck. It was luck that she had run into Cat, it was luck that Mary befriended Elly, it was luck that Anne even happened to be at the playground at the very same time. It was all just pure luck. 

A few hours later, Cathy was still trying to write when she heard a cry. She ran to Mae bedroom but found that it wasn’t Mae crying. Mae was sleeping peacefully. Then she realized it was the neighbour’s baby. About a week or two ago, a lady and her baby moved in the apartment next to her. The lady’s baby was way noisier than Mae, so Cathy oten found herself being woken up by crying. Of course, she never got mad at the lady, she couldn’t control when her baby started crying. So, Cathy went back to her room and picked up her pen again. But then, a few minutes later, she heard a knock on the front door. Cathy slowly walked to the door, all the sudden feeling very tired. On the other side was a woman with long blonde hair and grey blue eyes. The lady next door. 

“Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, but I heard you had a baby and I wanted to ask if you had any more diapers I could borrow.” she said, fidgeting with her hands. “I’ve run out.” she added. 

“Oh sure, you can come in and take some, if you want.” Cathy said, opening the front door entirely and letting the lady walk in. The lady walked in, looking uncomfortable. It’s not everyday a stranger just lets you into their house. “They’re in my daughter’s room. Please be quiet, she’s sleeping.” Cathy said, pointing the lady to Mae’s room. 

“Thank you.” the lady whispered as she walked quickly to Mae’s room. When she came out, holding a few diapers, she seemed to have a little smile on her face. “Your daughter is so cute.” she said. “She looks kind of like you.” she also added. 

“Do you need any more help? Cause i can-” Cathy tried to say before the lady interrupted her. 

“Oh no, I don't want to bother you anymore than I already have! Besides, i have to get back to my son.” she said, walking through the doorway. “But i would like to see you again someday. Maybe your daughter and my Edward could have a little playdate!” she added, walking with excitement. 

“Yeah, maybe. I think Mae would like a playmate.” Cathy said, already thinking about it. The other lady gave a small laugh before walking off. 

“Have a good night!” the lady said. 

“You too!” Cathy said in response. As soon as Cathy closed the door, she went back to her room, but didn’t pick up her pen. She just laid down on her bed, thinking. How could she find the other queens, where should she look next. She thought for so long, she didn’t even notice she was falling asleep until she did. 

                                         --------------------------------------

The next morning, Cathy woke up to her daughter jumping on her bed. 

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” she called over and over again. Cathy slowly got up, smiling at her daughter. 

“I’m up, baby! I’m up.” she said. “You can calm down.” she added as Mae stopped jumping on her bed. For the past month, the only thing Mae has ever said was mama, and Cathy found it sweet. “Are you hungry?” Cathy said, to which Mae nodded excitedly. She picked up her daughter and walked to the kitchen, placing Mae at one of the chairs at the table with pillows to raise her up. “Do you want pancakes?” Cathy asked. Mae nodded with a wide smile on her face. “Pancakes it is, then!” After Cathy made the pancakes and served her daughter, she heard a knock on the door. She wondered who that could be. She hadn’t told Cat or Anne where she lived, so it must be one of the neighbours. Maybe it was that nice lady from last night, she seemed like the type who would visit during breakfast just to have a nice chat. But the knock seemed to light to be the lady from last night, so it was probably someone else. Whatever Cathy was expecting, it was definitely not a two year old boy holding a light blue blanket, with frizzy blonde and grey blue eyes. He kind of looked like a smaller boy version of the lady. Maybe this was her son, but why was he here? 

“Um, hello there, little guy!” she said, crouching down to his level. “Where’s your mum?” she asked, even though she doubted that he would answer. But he did. 

“Mama still sleeping. She very tired.” he said, his voice almost a whisper. 

“Well, i think you should go back to her. You shouldn’t just leave the house like that.” she said, hoping to make the boy go home. But then again, he was two, so she would probably have to take him there. She wouldn’t just let him walk all alone. But just as the little boy was about to respond, his mother came, full of worry. 

“Eddy! I told you not to just leave the house like that.” she said, picking him up. “God, i should really start locking the door if you’re going to keep running off like this!” 

“Sorry mama.” he said, looking at the ground. 

“Well, it’s okay. As long as you don’t do it again.” she said as the boy nodded, promising to not do it again. “Hey! Sorry about Eddy. He’s started walking recently.” the lady said, turning to look at Cathy. Cathy just giggled. 

“It’s quite alright. No harm done.” she said. “Hey, if you want, you can stay for breakfast, since you’re already here. Besides, I would like to get to know you better.” 

“Sure, as long as we’re not intruding.” the lady said, holding her son. The lady slowly entered and got a bit more comfortable when she saw that she wasn’t intruding. She was also happy to see how excited Eddy got when he saw Mae sitting at the table. He started talking to her, but it was clear Mae couldn’t talk yet. 

“I’ll make some more pancakes.” Cathy said. “By the way, my name is Catherine. But call me Cathy.” she said, remembering the lady didn’t know her name. 

“Oh, i’m Jane. Jane Seymour.” the lady, Jane, said. Cathy froze. Henry VIII’s third wife. The one he “truly loved”. Again, just how lucky did Cathy get. 

“Hey, can i ask you a weird question?” Cathy said, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

“Sure! Ask away.” Jane said, a small smile on her face. 

“Do you happen to be reincarnated?” she said, hoping she didn’t sound stupid. 

“Can i give you a weird answer?” Jane asked, and Cathy nodded. “Yes, I am. Are you one too?” she asked excitedly. 

“Yes. I’m Catherine Parr. The sixth wife of Henry VIII. I’m looking for the other queens.” 

“And who have you found so far?” Jane asked, seeming interested in the whole ordeal. 

“Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn and you.” Cathy answered, making the list in her head. 

“Oh, Anne Boleyn. I haven’t seen her in a while. I hope she doesn’t hate me.” Jane said, looking at the ground. 

“Mama, are you okay? You seem sad.” Eddy said, reminding the two queens that him and Mae were in the room. 

“I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about mama.” Jane said, petting Eddy’s head. 

“Don’t worry, i’m sure Anne won’t be mad.” Cathy said, comforting Jane. “Speaking of which, I should tell her and Cat about it. We’ll go to Cat’s house later, okay?” she said and Jane nodded in response before actually saying:

“Okay.”

@silverpetals97 @patdfobmcr-yt

#six the musical #six #catherine of aragon (six) #anne boleyn (six) #jane seymour (six) #catherine parr (six) #mary parr #mary i #elizabeth i #edward vi

[politics-notmything]

I decided to combine these. (I hope it’s okay!)

Tw- Coming out, bad language, making out, hickeys and lead up to s*x (I will never write any actual s*x) 

“Annie!” Kitty’s voice rang through the halls, “have you seen my cat onesie?” 

Anne sighed, she loved her cousin but personal space was rare and the game she was playing was dangerous.

Catherine Parr looked down at the Boleyn girl who was curled up in her lap and smiled softly. The two queens had been dating in secret for about 5 weeks and were currently cuddled on the sofa watching Rue Pauls drag race. Cathy was delicately playing with Anne’s matted hair.

“You should see what Kat needs,” Cathy said, trying to shift the couple’s position.

“But I’m comfy.” Anne wined, “Anyway, that's what she has Jane for.”

“And what does she have you for?” Cathy stroked Anne’s forehead,

“I’m that little bit of cinnamon spice, I make her life interesting!”

“Then what do I need you for?” Cathy interrogated,

“This.” Anne pulled Cathy’s head towards her for a small kiss.

“Anne, Catherine! We’re heading to Asda! Kitty wants some hot chocolate to drink during the movie!” Jane shouted through the door.

Cathy and Anne silently withdrew their lips and Anne shouted back, “We hear ya’ Jane!”

“Have fun!” Cathy followed like nothing unusual had ever happened.

“Make sure Anne doesn’t burn the house down whilst we’re gone!”

The two waited until they heard the front door slam and the engine of Jane’s minibus start.

“I’ll have better things to do.” Anne looked suggestively at Cathy and the blue queen smirked,

“Heck yeah, you will!”

Anne spun around and sat on her knees, Cathy took the lead and kissed the gremlin. Anne answered back enthusiastically, her pale hands tangled in Catherine’s curly hair.  

The closeted girlfriends were kissing in secret on the living room sofa and what was meant to only be a single kiss was becoming a heated makeout session and needed to be taken up to the bed if anything was to continue.

“I still can’t believe this.” Cathy stopped to take a breath, “Jane takes everyone out to Asda and not even five minutes later, we’re necking on the couch.” Cathy said through her heavy breathing. Anne paused, her face was crimson and was bearing a thoughtful expression.

“You worry too much” was all Anne could say before connecting their lips,

“What if they come back?” Cathy questioned between kisses again.

“Shut up and Kiss me.” Anne breathed and pulled Cathy down.

The other queen immediately took control and Anne wasn't going to lie, it turned her on a bit. She loved it when Cathy took control, it made her feel a buzz of enjoyment, Cathy was gentle and loving, it was everything Anne wanted but never had in her past life.

Cathy’s pushed Anne back a bit so she was straddling the second wife and continued to kiss her lips repeatedly with her arms around her neck. Cathy was feeling brave so she slipped her tongue into her girlfriends’ mouth and Anne let out a small moan before mimicking it. The kiss was so passionate and heated that both queens craved skin-on-skin contact. Cathy pulled her top off and smirked as Anne bit her bottom lip, Cathy tied her hair back to show that things would progress and smiled softly before placing a loving kiss to Anne's lips and then checking the clock.  

“They should be back in about 25 minutes. Think we’ll have time?” Cathy fussed

“Cathy, you are literally in a bra, straddling me. And might I add, you look extremely hot. You can't just let me down now-“ Anne was cut off by Cathy leaning down to start nipping and sucking her neck just below her choker. Usually, Anne would freak out if anyone even came near her neck but Cathy was different.

She was always there for Anne in times of need. If Anne had a nightmare and felt her neck close up, Cathy would swiftly undo her choker and kiss her neck softly. If Anne had to take her choker off for any activities she would give it to Catherine and because Anne hated touching her own scar she would give Cathy her makeup to cover it over.

Catherine tugged at Anne’s top and the gremlin threw it off eagerly. Boleyn’s skin started to tingle and she had a fuzzy feeling in her stomach as Cathy proceeded down her body.  

“I love you.” Catherine breathed and Anne shivered as she felt Cathy’s warm breath on her cold skin.

Cathy moved closer to Anne’s face so they were millimetres apart and ran a finger along her girlfriend’s lips before passionately kissing her again.

“What the fuck!”

Anne and Cathy jumped away from each other to opposite sides of the sofa. The two queens were panting and you could probably guess what happened next. Jane Seymour was stood in the doorway and just behind her stood Anna of Cleves.

“What am I seeing here?” Anna questioned cautiously,

“Anna, I think you should go and get Aragon.” Jane didn’t look them in the eyes.

Anna nodded and swiftly left the room. Jane walked over to where Anne’s green shirt was thrown in a heap on the floor.

“I think both of you should put some clothes on before Catherine comes in.”  

“Jane I-” Cathy reasoned,

“Just put some clothes on Catherine.” Jane turned to go out the door.

“What did we just do?” Anne looked at Cathy nervously but was ignored, “Cath, please don't ignore m-”

“Look, Annie.” Cathy walked over to the green queen, “I don’t know what’s going to happen.” Catherine cupped Anne’s cheek, “But I don't regret anything!”

“Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny!“ Jane came back into the room and Cathy’s laughter fell silent.

“Boleyn!” Aragon walked into the room but stopped when she saw Cathy cupping Anne’s cheek, “Catherine? Why- Why are you half-naked? Why are you cupping her cheek? Why is she half-naked?”

“Anne, are those hickeys on your neck?” Anna stifled a laugh,  

“I think my goddaughter has some explaining to do.” Aragon folded her arms and looked expectedly at Cathy who was staring at the floor.

“Catherine, Cathy and I are together.” Anne came out, “we’ve been dating for around 5 week-”

“What?!” Jane exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Well, if you were living with a house full of Tudor queens who’ve been reincarnated by a hot gay time machine, keep in mind, one of them is devoted to God, one has only ever loved one man who didn’t have a heart, one is way too big for their boots and the other, my cousin, has PTSD due to past relationship issues.” Anne explained, clutching Cathy's hand for support,  “Would you feel comfortable telling them that you’re dating a girl?”

“You make it seem like a crime...” Catherine Parr began,

“Well, it is in some countries!” Anne flopped onto the sofa and ran her fingers through her hair.

Cathy sat down next to the Boleyn girl and put a hand on her thy, “we’re sorry okay. We just didn’t know how you would react, that's all.”

“we’re not mad about you guys being together!” Jane reasoned, “I just wished that you told us! You don’t have to hide anything! We’re family!”

“Did Cathy top?!” Anna tried to process how small, fragile, innocent Catherine Parr could ever top the great Anne Boleyn. 

“So you guys don't have a problem with Annie and me?” Catherine asked timidly,

“No, dear,” Jane smiled at the pair

“As long as you’re happy,” Aragon went to address Anne, “but Boleyn, if you hurt my Goddaughter, the Lord and I will show no mercy.” 

Anne beamed at Catherine and gave her girlfriend a quick kiss. “she’s safe with me!” 

“So did you guys actually go to Asda or what?” Cathy asked, looking at the clock again. 

“We did, but then realised that we had hot chocolate at home. It’s under Kitty’s bed! Apparently, she eats the powder straight out of the tin during her mental breakdowns” 

Classic Katherine. 

#i didnt know how to end this one #this is sh*t but oh well #first time writing anything heated #it was an interesting experience #:) #leave opinions in the asks #parrlyn #anne boleyn x catherine parr #parrelyn #anne boleyn #Catherine Parr #six the musical #six #six fanfiction #six oneshots #parrlyn oneshot #boleyn x parr

[oh-boleyn]

catherine / infamy

words: 5733, one shot, language: english

anne / jane /  katherine / catherine

this was posted on ao3 some days ago and I have been since debating to post it here or not. except for this series I will stop posting here probably, and just move to my ao3

TW: I think this one only has as tw Catherine's story (kidnapping, dying in childbirth, etc) plus self deprication... if anyone thinks this one needs more tw please tell me 

the commentary between scenes are things I got from internet about Catherine Parr

Catherine Parr will always be known as the queen who got away.

(…)

Her breath is heavy, the air denser than it should be.

But it slowly gets better, to the point she opens her eyes and the light doesn’t hurt. Sitting, she can recognize Katherine Howard, the girl for who she was a lady-in-waiting. Anna of Cleves is also sitting, a lost expression on her face. A woman with blonde hair that makes her think of the various portraits she saw in the palace. Just by counting the people in the room, she can easily assume who the rest of them are.

After all, she was the last of them.

(…)

Catherine’s father died when she was five years old and so her education was left to her mother, who educated Catherine to a high standard. 

(…)

Catherine never loved moving.

Usually she got too attached to a place, and changes were definitely not her favourite thing.

(Moving centuries felt like a torture – not that she would ever admit it out loud.)

Their new house was small, smaller than any castle she ever lived in. She had to share a bedroom with her godmother with whom she never had a relationship, and the third queen, mother of the kid she saw getting the crown.

Sometimes at night the house made her think of Snape Castle. Of nights fearing for her life. Being the survivor didn’t mean her life was any easier. Those nights she preferred to avoid sleeping in case the faces of John and Margaret might appear in her dreams.

Instead she would just scroll through articles and articles on her phone, trying to understand any actual device that was out to the public, or what did spot on meant. At least being productive made her feel less useless. After years of new information missed, she could really use new research.

(…)

Sometimes alternatively spelled Katherine, Katheryn, Kateryn or Katharine.

(…)

Catherine can’t help but feel powerless when thinking about Katherine Howard.

She was just a child. A teen, who Catherine couldn’t save. Her mind didn’t work fast enough to help the girl, who died such a tragic, grotesque death, leaving Parr her place as queen. Maybe if Parr was smart enough, she could’ve done something else.

But she wasn’t.

She loved to lie, to make everyone believe her, but deep down she knew nothing more than that, a lie. An elaborated act that took years to construct. A character, a fake line, an improvised scene that went day after day. Because Catherine didn’t think of herself as intelligent, just a very good actress, fooling everyone into thinking she was smart.

She wished it was true.

Instead she had to live with the guilt of knowing what she did. She was not the hero, not the survivor, not the scholar queen.

Catherine Parr was a fool who couldn’t save Howard, nor Margaret, nor Elizabeth, nor Lady Jane Grey. Her hands were filled with the blood and tears of all the girls at her care; she never had the chance to rescue, instead just assisting to their downfall. And her mind won’t stop her from repeating the names time and time again.

(…)

Catherine was known for her love of learning and for her fluency in languages such as Latin, French and Italian.

(…)

“What do you want to know?” The last queen questions.

Her godmother had been moving the whole night, buzzing around her. It was almost becoming annoying, except that there was a warmness, an incapability of getting mad knowing how close her mother and the woman once were.

“What makes you think I want to know something?” Aragon retorts.

“You seem nervous, if you want to know something just ask ahead. I won’t get mad.”

She internally prays for Aragon not to ask her something about Spanish, or worse, Latin or Italian. Languages felt more complicated and overwhelming in the twenty-first century, featuring strange mixes between them.

(Apparently, Spanglish was a thing.)

She is not sure if any other question would be good, at all. Catherine is supposed to know all the answers, to be educated, to distinguish, to be useful. Since arriving in this century her mind has been confused, mixing up languages and dates. Blocked, broken.

“Curiosity is not such a good trait.” The older woman speaks, almost robotically, just repeating words she probably heard time and time again.

Catherine would be lying if she said that was the first time she heard those words. Her curiosity was not exactly an attribute in her past life, but she maintained it through the end of her days, always looking forward to learning. A craving for intelligence heavier than the one for safety.

“It’s alright, really.”

“What happened when I died?”

The question comes out quickly, making Parr hold a breath.

“When you died…” She starts, trying to remember only important details. “Anne and Henry were still married, but she lost the pregnancy. She had three miscarriages. You can imagine how Henry reacted.”

Catherine nods, aware of Anne’s thick scar.

“Jane went next. I can’t remember a lot from her reign, for it was short and I wasn’t at court at the time,” she winces, trying not to show her stiffness when talking about it, “Henry asked for her to be painted in every family portrait, even after she died. He really tried to secure the line of succession for Edward, what a shame he died so young. In his attempts to have another son, Henry married Anna. She wasn’t bad, just probably a lot for him to handle.”

“She seems like a lot.” Catherine speaks, judging tone in her voice.

“Don’t say that, she is actually sweet. Henry couldn’t kill her, politics involved, so they settled for an annulment. Then Katherine came. She was naïve, a child. I was a lady-in-waiting for her, and it is true she might have been childish, but she was –is, I suppose– a good person.”

“I feel like all of them know more than me,” Aragon explains, “but I don’t want to read about them, it’s like invading their privacy.”

“I did. Most sources are from after we died, none of them completely true.” Catherine admits. “We should be able to tell our story.”

“We should.”

(…)

Catherine is known for reuniting Henry’s children with their father and bringing them back to court. 

(…)

The opening night for the show is nerve-wracking to say the least.

Anna almost cursed at Catherine because, after all, it was her idea. Parr stays silent, knowing that the fourth queen is nervous to her very core. She also knows that the show has to be done.

They could only live off doing interviews for some time. She learnt that the internet worked in mysterious ways, and nothing stayed new for too long. People grew tired, and interviews were less and less often.

But after the play, it feels right. Even her godmother is smiling, her own reluctance to create the play long forgotten. People cheer around them, the band still firm on their spots but clapping their hands.

For a moment it feels good to be in the spotlight.

(…)

Catherine was an attractive and intelligent woman, who combined the intelligence and wit of Anne Boleyn with the prudence and diplomacy of Catherine of Aragon.

(…)

“Anne, wake up.”

Boleyn opens her eyes. Her hands were still holding her phone. That little technological device that holds so much information about everything. Catherine wonders what she was doing, what could have been so important that she didn’t go to bed.

“You should go to your room, Kat and Anna might be waiting for you.” She says with a soft voice, trying not to wake anyone else in the house.

The second queen has big, bright green eyes. There is a sparkle of wit that Catherine can’t shake her head off. She looks like Elizabeth, the same curiosity shining through. The way she carries herself, as if she still was the queen. The secrecy, how every word holds another meaning.

Anne stood up, going to her bedroom.

“Goodnight Anne.”

“Night, Parr.”

Elizabeth is dead, and they aren’t. Catherine never had a chance to amend their problems, instead she died. Never getting to see Elizabeth as queen was going to be something she would always regret.

The internet said she was a great queen, and it didn’t surprise Parr at all.

(…)

Elizabeth was won over by Catherine’s warmth and intelligence.

(…)

Catherine Parr was never a protagonist, and she prided herself on it. Being a writer was more important to her. Narrators lived long enough to tell the heroes stories. She was observant. Silent, but good at knowing all the gossip. Being invisible was an advantage, it could keep you alive.

(That is if you didn’t die because of childbirth, obviously.)

Even in the play, she made it known. Her make-up in earthly tones, and she wears a blue costume. Blue was serene, trying not to be noticed. She didn’t talk as much as the other queens, relegating her story just to her last verses.

Catherine Parr was a narrator, not a protagonist, and she was aware of it.

That was why, when watching the queens, she felt so inclined to give them as much attention as she could. Catherine wouldn’t write their stories, that would be not okay if she tried to keep the fake peace that reigned the house, but she could surely find striking inspiration at any moment.

She discovered that none of them were having the best time in their new lives. They didn’t treat it as a brand-new chance to be happy, instead they were bonded to the past, to their own time. It felt like whatever brought them back just did it so they could act as robots half of the time, not trusting each other to talk seriously for more than a couple of minutes.

Catherine wonders if the other queens also notice how much she is struggling.

(…)

However, the quick-thinking Catherine Parr managed to save her head by pleading with Henry and persuading him that she had only argued with him in an attempt to help him forget about the pain caused by his leg ulcer and to learn from him.

Henry forgave her.

(…)

They move. Again. She knows it’s for the better, but she can’t help feeling weirded out by the new house. At least it allows them each to have a room of their own, a privacy she certainly craved.

She takes the basement, which is the colder room in the house. It feels comfortable, after all the years of living in palaces makes you feel that way about cold, big rooms. Her bed, even if it is double size, doesn’t fill more than a quarter of the room, leaving her space for a big desk and a bookshelf.

Catherine counts all the books once before starting packing, twice after saving them and another time as soon as she arrives. The feeling that she probably lost one doesn’t disappear, even if she doesn’t know what book she lost.

(Maybe because most of her books are destroyed after five hundred years of not caring for them.

Not like those books are useful anymore.)

(…)

According to Foxe, she began “frankly to debate with the king touching religion, and therein flatly to discover herself; oftentimes wishing, exhorting, and persuading the king.”

(…)

Doing research is exhausting to say the least.

The bright white screen makes her eyes ache after watching it for a while, and her hands don’t work quickly on the keyboard. She can’t even write as fast as she could in her old life, her letters clumsy and often having problems with gripping the new pens.

What makes it the worst, is that she feels so stupid when trying to do it. Languages vary when time progresses, that much she always knew, but trying to read an article sometimes becomes impossible, with words such as quantum entanglement or Newtonian physics. It infuriates her, not being able to understand.

Once upon a time she knew it all, about God, history, languages. But now it felt as if her brain just stopped working. Everything went faster than she could, leaving her behind, useless to a new world into which she never asked to be brought.

Sometimes she hates modernism and its complexity.

Still, Catherine puts on an act every day, talking about penicillin and ibuprofen, explaining history to Anna and focusing on appearing smart. Because, after all, that was all she ever knew. All she ever had was owned for being smart, to know how to play a King’s game, and getting away with it.

If she wasn’t smart, she was nothing.

(…)

Catherine certainly believed herself to be in danger and, had she not acted decisively, it is likely that Henry would have allowed her to be arrested and, perhaps, executed.

(…)

“Cathy, por favor, ayúdame con esto.” Her godmother asks, while going through some files. “I know you were good at Spanish.”

Parr holds a breath. She once could speak it fluently, but lately it’s pained her into having problems with it.

“I was reading this book, and wondered if della and del were still being used? Or is it old Spanish?”

Catherine didn’t know the answer at all. How was she supposed to? If she could barely understand it. She wanted to scream, to explain that she had no actual clue. She wanted to pull away her façade of being smart and just admitting that it was too hard for her.

“I think it’s safer to use de la instead of a contracción.” Cathy says, praying to be right.

“Gracias querida.” Aragon winks at her.

Parr was really hoping she was right.

(…)

Catherine Parr - The Scholar Queen.

(…)

Catherine was a writer, she even went as far as publishing books under her name, the name of a queen, in a patriarchal society.

Catherine Parr was a writer because it was all she had ever done. Every reason why she wanted to be remembered was because she was a writer. She didn’t care about her husbands, not even Thomas who she truly thought she loved. She didn’t want to be remembered as a queen, only as a writer.

(She sometimes thought that if being a writer was enough for her, in that case, she would’ve lived longer, but of course she needed to have a man in her life.)

Talking about her past as a writer gave her the peace of mind she didn’t have for standing behind men her whole life.

Behind a great man, there is always a great woman.

Except that she was behind John Neville, a distant catholic cousin who’s actions ended up with her being kidnapped; Henry the VIII, an egomaniac poor excuse of king who got as far as killing two of his wives (almost her killed too); and last but not least, Thomas Seymour, a power starved moron.

Was she just like them? Was she the only one guilty of her past life? An egomaniac who couldn’t save Katherine Howard? A power-starved former queen who let harm come to her most loved stepdaughter? Or just a moron who couldn’t protect anyone, not even herself?

Catherine was a writer, because thinking about her own mistakes was harder than just doing what she always did, telling other people’s ones.

(…)

Catherine Parr was in fact the cleverest and most passionate of Henry VIII's six wives, says Derek Wilson.

(…)

Catherine wasn’t a big fan of the rain.

She didn’t mind it, and enjoyed the sounds of the water drops when she was writing, but being in closed spaces sometimes became too much, too claustrophobic. She loved walking just a little every day, going to the theatre in the afternoon or to the grocery shop, but with the weather it wasn’t possible.

Usually on days like that she would just get herself isolated from the queens, her anxiety building up as she tried to behave and not explode. Try to pass as if she doesn’t even exist, guarding her feelings and nerves to herself.

She told the queens she would be writing in her room, and to just call her when it was time to eat. No one checked up on her. No one gave her tea, or coffee. Even when the clock hit the time for dinner –she had been staring at it for the last five minutes, hyper aware of the time being–, they called her up three minutes and fifty-two seconds later than what she would have liked.

(…)

In her will, dated 23 March 1545, Margaret stated that she was unable to render Catherine sufficient thanks 'for the godly education and tender love and bountiful goodness which I have evermore found in her Highness'.

(…)

It feels harder on her than the rest of the queens. The feeling of not belonging, of not understanding. Even with Jane their relationship is not close — not that it can be, the third queen always storming off or barely talking.

She feels like an outsider, not knowing where she is standing.

Catherine has always been cordial, but there’s a thought in the back of her mind that says that it is only out of duty. Of an old debt to her mother, and not real love. Even after long talks over tea, and trips to the mall, Cathy feels that their relationship is still empty. Out of place, fake.

Parr can’t help but dream about feeling loved again, truly loved, something that she has not known for a long time. But it scares her, Margaret ended up dying young, Elizabeth had to suffer, Jane Grey had a horrible death.

Maybe she didn’t need their love, because each time someone loved her, they ended up dead.

(…)

Catherine enjoyed a close relationship with Henry's three children and was personally involved in the education of Elizabeth I and Edward VI.

(…)

She enters the kitchen, just to see Anne and Anna with an apple pie in the middle of the table.

“I want pie.” She states.

“Magic word?” Anne teases her, a smirk on her lips.

“Je t'aime beau cul.”

Boleyn laughs, in a way that it makes her stomach turn. It’s mocking, clearly not laughing with Catherine, but rather at her.

“What? What did I say wrong?”

“You pronounced the last part wrong, it’s beaucoup, no beau cul.”

Catherine can feel her face turning red, almost burning. Of course, she was going to mess up pronunciation after years without trying. Now Anne was mocking her, and she felt ridiculed, uncomfortable.

“Why is it so funny?” Anna interrupts, maybe picking up the humiliating situation, “she just messed up pronunciation, it’s not that bad.”

“Instead of saying ‘I love you so much’ she said “I love you, nice ass’.”

Parr chuckles painfully, dreading Anna’s giggling.

“Don’t worry, mon petit chou.” Anne grabs a plate and settles a slice of the pie. “A sweet, for a sweetheart.”

She winks an eye to Parr, easing the air around the writer.

(…)

The dowager queen promised to provide education for her.

(…)

Catherine tries to get it out, to calm herself down after a nightmare.

She takes some paper and a pen, even though it feels uncomfortable in her hand, and tries to write about it. Catherine forces the memories on her brain. Attempts to remember every detail, the face of fear Margaret held, frustrating not to confuse it with the face of the girl dying. Parr thinks of John, of the aggressive men he became.

And she writes messy and clumsy letters, focusing only on what she has to say and not how she says it. Working hard distracts her for almost the whole night, finishing with a good amount of paper in possession, and her hand smeared with ink.

Catherine considers reading it, but ultimately decides against it, walking to the kitchen as fast as she can.

She lets it burn, page by page, word by word. Parr lets it burn as if she never cared for it, something so personal that it won’t be good for even her to read. She knows that the queens will ask the next day, but she can’t help herself to care. She lets it burn.

(…)

She loved fine clothes, jewels and intelligent company.

(…)

Catherine wishes she had a real idea of when to stop, but apparently, she wasn’t born with it.

Most of the time, the queens won’t shush her, instead acting as if they hear what she has to say. Acting being the key word. Once Cathy was so into her monologue, she would discover how uninterested her eyes looked, wandering around the room and just humming in response instead of talking actual real words. In that moment she would try to cut herself short, wrap the idea quicker than expected.

Anna would try to keep up, being amicable enough, but the inadequacy was something the survivor couldn’t shake off. Even when the fourth queen tries to talk, Cathy will already anticipate the truth. She pitied her, knowing how her life was and ended, and it was just a way to show it. She pushed Anna away, not telling her any weird facts. She didn’t want to be a poor fool.

(…)

In 1543, she published her first book, Psalms or Prayers, anonymously.

(…)

“I’m just… so afraid to talk sometimes.”

Catherine thought that, but the words didn’t come out of her mouth, but rather from Boleyn’s.

“I got killed for that, and I can’t help it. I feel like I need to control everything.”

“But you don’t.” Parr confirms. “Also, you can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can control yourself, with whom you hang out, you can control things such as the tone of your words, but if someone wants to hate you, they will. You can’t control nature, not yours, nor from others.” Catherine ponders.

She wishes that she could follow her own advice, but it’s hard. That doesn’t mean that Catherine is not hoping for Anne to do so, to be happier than she is. Maybe that if she can help the woman, Parr can redeem herself.

“Thank you, I think I needed to hear it.” The green-eyed talks.

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”

She brushes off the guilt of being egoistic that tries to settle on her mind.

 (…)

According to biographer Linda Porter, the story that as a child, Catherine could not tolerate sewing and often said to her mother "my hands are ordained to touch crowns and sceptres, not spindles and needles" is almost certainly apocryphal.

(…)

Catherine wants to give up writing, knowing that it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Everything is too personal, too old, too weird. Old languages long forgotten mixing with new ones, words that haven’t existed before now complicated to use.

Apparently, Shakespeare by himself invented around a thousand seven hundred words. Just by one person.

The idea of the new vocabulary overwhelms her mind. So much she doesn’t know and is not sure if she ever will. But a part of her longs for it, for the feeling of release that writing could sometimes bring. Catherine has faith about being able to be valuable, to tell stories, to do good, to give something to the world.

Parr decides to just take her time, to write as best as she can. She can’t do more than her best.

(…)

Between October 1536 and April 1537, Catherine lived alone in fear with her step-children, struggling to survive.

(…)

“Are you okay, Catherine?” Kat asks.

It was her third attempt at it. Nothing she wrote felt right. There was just so much missed, so much to do. She couldn’t focus on the paragraphs.

“Yes, just can’t seem to get this done.” She straightens her spine.

Did always sitting hurt as much?

“What is it about?” The teenager wonders.

“Just about Spain history, and the colonies.”

“Can I read?”

“Yes. I will make tea.” Parr handles the computer to the girl.

She stretches her spine and goes around preparing the drink.

Catherine is not sure if she would let any other queen read what she wrote. Katherine is different, had always been. Even in her time as queen, even when it all happened. She was smart, but not outspoken. Polite yet truthful.

“It is good, really.” Howard says.

“I can sense a “but”.” Catherine laughs anxiously, dreading the critic.

“You are only taking one side; you should know how Spain sent a lot of people from the church on missions to re-educate the natives. Las misiones Jesuitas. Politics and religion were more connected than what this made it look like.”

“That’s… Very true.” She feels bad about not emphasising it as much but brushes it off for the sake of the conversation. “I didn’t know you were interested in history. It’s great,” she insists when Katherine looks at her with big eyes, “if you ever want to work together, you know where to find me.”

(…)

Her second book was a success and widely praised.

(…)

Organizing was never her favourite thing to do. She loved to be messy, scattered paper all around her. Pens out, in the most unexpected places, just in case creativity strikes unexpectedly. The way her manuscripts could look so good, better now that she gave herself time to practice her letters surprised when people saw the chaos in the one she wrote.

Jane was the opposite, neat, having high expectations of finding whatever she left in the place she left it. She was exigent, hard on herself to be organized, in places where Catherine couldn’t care less. That was until everything became way too much and she had to just clean a little. Parr admired Jane, appreciated how much she did, how smart and balanced she had learned to become.

With her papers settled, her pens saved, she gives a look at her room. It feels quiet, harmonized.

(…)

The popular myth that Catherine Parr acted more as her husband's nurse than his wife was born in the 19th century from the work of Victorian moralist and proto-feminist, Agnes Strickland.

(…)

Someone knocks the door to her room twice, and Catherine gets surprised. Almost nobody came to her room, it being almost the farthest one from the rest of the queens. She also never gave any indication of having nightmares like Katherine, so no one would check on her.

“Come in!” She says, despite her wonder.

“Hey there.” Aragon greets. “I just got Kat to sleep.”

“Another nightmare?”

“Yes, but those are getting better, I think. Therapy is helping.” She explains. “But I wanted to check on you.”

Catherine makes room for her in the bed, which she quickly understands. The divorcee sits in the bed, and the survivor wraps herself, getting comfortable in the hug. It’s familiar, an old memory from court in a past life, but a good one. A peaceful, tranquil moment before knowing better.

“Oh, hermosa.” The first queen squeezes her goddaughter. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just… so tired.” She confesses.

She doesn’t precisely know of what she is tired. The intrusive thoughts of hundreds of years, Thomas and how she was a fool. Of hiding her silliness, trying to be better, always better, but never reaching an end. She is tired of feeling bad, of feeling locked into her own expectations. She feels tired of trying to be happier, to be smarter, to be liked.

And there are so many feelings that she just breaks, sobbing into her namesake’s arms.

“Even geniuses need sleep, amor.”

“Don’t call me that.” Cathy bickers.

“Call you what?”

“A genius. I’m not.” She cries. “I want to be dumb; I want to stop overthinking for a second. I’m not smart, I promise you I’m not but please stop expecting things from me I can’t be a disappointment.”

“Mi vida.”

Aragon makes a pattern on her back, trying to soothe her. It doesn’t precisely work, instead she just continues sobbing, letting lots of tears that she has saved for such a long time flow freely. She sniffles out of pure frustration, of having so many thoughts that she can’t even process them.

“I love you, so much.” She affirms. “You have literally blown me away. I know I might not say a lot, but you were always special, since you were little.”

“Don’t say that, I don’t want to be.”

“But you are, and you have surpassed all my expectations, always. You can breathe now; you get to take a break.” She kisses her forehead. “I love you, and would still love you if you are the smartest person in the world or the stupidest. You are so smart, you don’t have to always stick out, or be good at everything. You deserve to just fool around sometimes, and that won’t change who you are.”

When Cathy collects the courage to look her in the eyes, she can swear that there’s a sparkle of pure love and affection in the eyes of her godmother. A sparkle directed at her.

(…)

Biographers have described her as strong-willed and outspoken, physically desirable, susceptible (like Queen Elizabeth) to roguish charm and even willing to resort to obscene language if the occasion suited.

(…)

She doesn’t know how, but something in the air feels lighter, it feels better. Life becomes easier, the house now slowly becoming a home, with the six queens slowly getting better. Catherine can notice how much cooler it turns out to be once they started learning more about each other, understanding something no one else would.

(After all, nobody else was a five hundred years old reincarnated Tudor queen.)

Parr wishes for it to mean that she could live her life relaxed, joyful. But instead she cries every time she notices how lucky she was, the guilt of knowing that she hurt so many people she cared for. A heavy backpack she won’t ever be able to get out.

She doesn’t think that she deserves forgiveness for her acts. And it pains her, hoping for a reality where she was good, for one where she was just the survivor, to one not full with the tragedy her life was.

Each time she says gold star for Cathy Parr, she feels numb. With a bit of luck, she convinced the audience she merits it.

(…)

Catherine's good sense, moral rectitude, compassion, firm religious commitment and strong sense of loyalty and devotion have earned her many admirers among historians.

(…)

There is a silence, and for a moment they stay like that. But the survivor speaks up: “Did you love him?”

“Yes.” Anne states easily. “Or no. I probably didn’t, and he most certainly didn’t either, but I think we both believed we did.”

“Do you love him?”

“No, do you?”

“Never did.”

“Be careful, your neck is quite delicate… I don’t think it would be hard to cut with a sword.”

Catherine tries to mask her thoughts, releasing a faint “Funny.”

Anne probably doesn’t know; she is aware of it. With all the fake comments about the second queen that were a lie, she had decided to not look for much information about her fellow queens, and Catherine was not willing to tell her about how her life nearly ended. It felt selfish, it was just a close call, not a real one like Anne’s or Katherine’s. Still, the idea of her head being amputated from her body followed her, like the ghost of a broken promise. The thought of her life in danger of ending still at the back of her mind.

“Did she love me?” Anne asks, surprising Parr.

“I think she did.” Catherine waits for a moment, before continuing. “I’m sorry for what I did to her.”

With those words she breaks down, trying to hide her tears. She has no right to cry for her own wicked acts, to be comforted by Anne, but that’s what is happening now.

“It’s fine.” Boleyn says, her voice just above a whisper. “I forgive you. She forgave you. We were different people back then.”

“But I did it. No matter what you say, I did it.”

“And I wasn’t an angel either. I acted the wrong way because of my fears. To gain and maintain power. I’m not proud of it,” her eyes, that until that moment were lost, now staring intensely Catherine, “but if you keep living in the past you can’t become a better person in the future.”

(…)

Parr is usually portrayed in cinema and television by actresses who are much older than the queen, who was in her early 30s when she was Henry's wife and was about 36 years old at the time of her death.

(…)

Catherine wished her story was better, for it to have a happy ending. To say that she married Thomas after Henry, and that it was like a dream, that they had children and grandchildren, grew old together and she was loved until the end of her days. She longed to say that she could remember her baby's face, or her first steps or words. Desires to tell everyone that she taught her everything she knew. But in reality, it was not true.

Catherine Parr never had her happily ever after like a queen from a children’s book.

The survivor indeed never had her happy ending, not even when coming back to the modern times. She still put more pressure on herself than what she should've. Tried to always be trusted, to always be useful and to help her everyone. Pushed herself to the edge, trying to be the best version of herself. Got more stressed than necessary, stayed up sometimes too late for her liking, drank more tea and coffee than she should’ve.

Her life became a bittersweet one, a balance found between her tragic story, the guilt she would always feel, and the chance of a new beginning.

Some days were happier than others, some talks were lighter. Freedom and restriction battling over, but giving her enough cheerfulness to go back when things got harder. Working with Katherine over the history they both knew and missed, discussing the newest scientific discoveries with Anna and Jane, grabbing lunch with Anne and tea with Aragon.

Her life was not happy, but it was relaxed. It gave her the chance to just let herself feel emotions, the good, the bad. To write without deadlines. To be calm, to live this new opportunity fully. To learn about herself, to be the protagonist of her own story.

To be loved.

#six the musical #six fanfic #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #catherine parr

[it-feels-legit]

From Start To Forever Pt. 1

A Six Fanfic

A story about the rebirth and daily lives of the queens.

Katherine woke up with a start. She wasn’t expecting to be alive; after all, the last thing she remembered was the sound of a sword hitting its mark. Before she dared to open her eyes, she reached up to feel her neck. Everything felt... normal. She started to cry. She couldn’t believe she was alive, after everything that had happened.

“Hey... hey!” someone shook her. “It’s alright. You’re fine.”

Katherine opened her eyes and was surprised to see five others near her. Each of them were wearing different coloured outfits. The ones wearing green and yellow were staring daggers at one another, the one in blue was up on her feet surveying their surroundings, and the ones in white and red were sitting around her. This wasn’t where she was supposed to be executed. What had happened?

“Where am I?” Katherine asked through tears. “And why do I still have my head?”

The one in white answered her. “We don’t know where we are and how we got here. You were the last one to wake. Once you calm down, we’ll tell you what we’ve figured out so far.”

Katherine sat up and wiped her tears. She was fine and alive. She needed to calm down.

”Alright, tell me what you know,” Katherine muttered as she closed her eyes, bracing herself for whatever was about to come next. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what she was about to hear.

”Henry had six wives in total, which we all are one. After our deaths, we’ve apparently come back to life all together... and that’s about it. Everyone else has already done their introductions, so it’s your turn now,” the lady in white explained a little too quickly to be completely fine with what she said.

The gears turned in Katherines head, ignoring the obviously bizarre scenario she was just presented with. Six... queens... one which would be...

”Anna!” she shouted whilst she looked about. She didn’t recognize her friend among these people. Her face saddened as they all turned to look at her sudden outburst.

The lady in red took Katherine’s hands in her own. “I’m here,” she said. As a reply to the sudden shock on Katherine’s face, she explained, “We all seem to have been put in different bodies, but you and Anne seem to still have leftovers.”

Knowing exactly what Anna was referring to, her hands shot up to her neck. In her panic earlier, she did not notice the feeling of what surely was a visible scar on her neck. Tears started to run down her face as the memories from her last moments all came back at once. The night where she practiced laying her head down on a block; the looks of content on four men; the sneers from her family; the pain of a sword slicing through her neck, which felt like an eternity at the time.

Anna was quick to wrap her arms around Katherine. “Shhh... It’s alright now. You’re safe. They can’t get to you now,” she soothed, earning confused looks from all the others. With the exception of Anna and the third queen, every one of the queens only knew the ones directly before and after them personally; the later ones had only heard stories of the earlier ones. Even though there was a sixth queen, Anna was the only one that knew what Katherine had gone through, making her Katherine’s only lifeline at the moment.

Katherine’s sobs lasted several more minutes, which made the others start to genuinely get concerned for her. Just what had she been through? None of the others had woken up and started crying.

As soon as Katherine’s sobs turned into muffled whimpers, Anna lifted her head and turned to the others. “This is Katherine Howard, the fifth queen. I hope you understand the state she’s in currently,” Anna said slowly as Katherine opened an eye to look at the others’ expressions. They all nodded.

After a moment of silence, the queen in green was the next to speak. “Hi Katherine! I am...” she stopped when she saw Katherine flinch.

”Call her Kat,” Anna said, which vaguely explained Kat’s reaction.

The one in green nodded and continued very slowly. “Hello Kat,” she waited for any reaction and got none. She continued, “I’m Anne Boleyn, the second queen. I suffered the same fate as you. See?” Anne pointed to her neck.

Finally releasing Anna and turning to face Anne, Kat nodded. The tears had stopped, but the marks from them remained. She sat with her legs crossed a few feet from Anne and Anna directly behind her, ready for if anything else happened to Kat.

Suddenly, Anne’s face lit up. “Howard... Are you the daughter of Edmund Howard?” Anne quickly asked, forgetting her earlier carefulness.

Kat slowly nodded, not knowing where this question was going. Anne smiled brightly. “That means we’re cousins!” she shouted as she suddenly pulled Kat into a hug.

”What?” Kat asked, in shock at both the hug and the claim of cousins.

”We’re cousins!” Anne repeated excitedly. “I’m the daughter of your father’s sister!” she clarified.

Kat felt a hand rub her back in an attempt to comfort her, which certainly helped. Anne loosened her grip to look at Kat and gave a weak smile. “I’ll look out for you, okay?” she promised whilst squeezing Kat’s shoulders. Kat could only nod. Anne let go to give the others a chance to speak. The lady in white, whom Kat had forgotten was sitting next to her, went next.

”I’m Jane Seymour, the third queen. I died after giving birth to a son,” she said, fumbling with her hands.

”I’m Catherine of Aragon, the first queen. I would’ve been the last as well, if it wasn’t for a certain somebody,” the woman in yellow shot Anne a disapproving glance. Anne didn’t hear Aragon over her own excitement of meeting her cousin; she kept smiling at Kat, lost in her own world. Everyone, besides Anne, looked up at the lady in blue. She was off looking at their surroundings. It took a cough from Aragon to return her attention.

”Oh, I’m Catherine Parr,” she said, looking embarrassed. “Call me Cathy. I’m the survivor.” She continued to look about.

”And you already know me,” came a voice from behind Kat. Kat looked behind herself at Anna who rubbed her shoulders with a smile.

Anne finally broke from her trance to speak. “Well, I say we find out where we are,” she stood up. “Onwards!” she pointed ahead and started walking. She was headed towards the nearest building she could see. They had awoken in a forest with a single building visible above the tree line, so it made sense. Aragon followed with a huff whilst Jane and Cathy went silently.

“It’ll be okay,” Anna reassured. She stood up and reached a hand down. “I’ll hold your hand the entire time, and you can hide behind me if needed.”

Kat nodded and took Anna’s hand and stood up. She had to trust that Anna would keep her safe. Hand-in-hand, they caught up to the others.

#six the musical #six fanfiction #six fandom #katherine howard #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #anna of cleves #anne boleyn #jane seymour #six queens #from start to forever #six fanfic

[catherine-parr-1512]

Dramatic Twist Chapter 1

It was Friday which meant that Cathy Parr, Catalina Aragon and Jane Seymour were walking together to their joint drama class with Mr Cromwell. It was their last year in school and they all took that class because of their love for theatre. It was a great class even if their teacher was sometimes creepy. They took their usual seats in the middle of the class, the three of them sitting next to each other. They always came 5 minutes before the class was supposed to start as they didn’t want to be late. As they talked for a few minutes, Mr Thomas Cromwell came into class and started preparing materials for today’s lesson. The other students also started filling in and taking their seats. After 2 minutes, dangerously close to the start of the class, the last people came into class - Anna Cleves, Katherine Howard and the unbelievably annoying Anne Boleyn.

 Anne Boleyn and Cathy Parr didn’t like each other at all, they hated each other. This started in primary school when Boleyn would sometimes pick on Parr for liking to study a lot. As the years went by, the two became even more aggressive towards each other to the point  that even the teachers would make sure that the two would not be sitting close in the classes. It worked but that didn’t change their relationship at all. It was as if they were polar opposites - where Parr was quiet and studious, Boleyn would make herself the centre of attention in any room she walked in and she barely passed her classes. Boleyn would be seen with many boys, all adoring her but Parr would not be seen with any girl around her and she didn’t speak to any of them in a romantic sense. No matter what aspect of their lives someone would look into, they could see the two on opposite sides of a spectrum.

 Boleyn, Howard and Cleves made their way to the 3 free seats at the back of the class, talking quietly and not caring about the class around them. This made Cathy a little bit angry - she didn’t have anything against Howard or Cleves and blamed their bad behaviour on that temptress and gremlin also known as Anne Boleyn. When the three ‘queens’ finally took their places, Mr Cromwell started the class.

 The whole lesson went smoothly without much interruption from the class as they studied a script before them (except for the chaotic three at the back of the classroom). At the end of the class, Mr Cromwell gave them team homework.

 “Everyone, in pairs that will be chosen at random, you will all play out a simple scene I will give you when we will sort out the pairs. Each pair will have a different scene to act out and you cannot change with whom you are working with - you don’t get that choice in the real world.” He said, looking at everyone in the class closely. Everyone nodded, not having much choice with the whole thing.

 Cromwell took out two pieces of paper from an already prepared bowl with names of people in the class. He looked at them quickly.

 “Abby Hunter and Isabella Stone.” He then took more pieces of paper and read out the pairs, the pieces of paper quickly disappearing from the bowl.

 “Jane Seymour and Catherine Aragon.” Cathy smiled at her two best friends, happy that the two of them would be together.

 “Anna Cleves and Katherine Howard.” Those were the next two names Cathy cared about, two-thirds of the chaotic trio were together. Leaving Boleyn to torment some poor student with her loud ways, thought Parr.

 As more and more students were chosen, Cathy realised that neither she nor Boleyn had a partner yet. A feeling of dread filled her. ‘Please don’t be Boleyn, please don’t be Boleyn’.

 4 names were left in the bowl - Cathy, Boleyn and 2 other boys. Mr Cromwell took two random pieces of paper and read the names that were there, loudly so that a whole class could hear him.

 “Catherine Parr and Anne Boleyn.”

 Cathy felt as if her world was slowly crumbling around her. She was just put into the same pair with the person that she hated the most in the entire world. She couldn't believe her 'luck' - there were 24 people in the class (including her) so she had a 4.3% chance of being paired up with her and yet, here she was. They would have to work together to get a good grade but Cathy knew 2 things - Boleyn had a terrible work ethic and there was no freaking way that they would be able to not fight for even a minute.

 Mr Cromwell gave all the pairs their scenes that they were meant to act out next Friday - giving them a full week to complete their 'project'. When the class finished, Cathy quickly approached Boleyn, wanting to make arrangements for the two of them rehearsing for their scene.

 "Boleyn," She said sharply, getting the attention of the other girl who started making her way out of class to who knows where

 "Parr." Replied the other girl coldly, clearly not happy about being approached by Cathy but Cathy didn't care. They had work to do.

 "Be at my house tonight at 7 o'clock," said Cathy, handing Boleyn a piece of paper with her address on it. " We'll be rehearsing our scene."

 "You don't even care if I have any plans for my Friday night?" Asked Boleyn with a grimace, taking the paper and putting it in her pocket without looking at it.

 “If you call getting drunk and passing out with some guy at a party as plans, then yes - I don’t care if you have any plans.” With that, Cathy turned around to catch up with her friends. Boleyn did the same without a word being said.

 It was 7:15 and yet there was no sign of Boleyn around Cathy’s house and she was getting quite angry about it. She hated it when people were late and it didn’t help that it was Boleyn with her mischievous green eyes that was late. ‘No, Cathy. You are NOT attracted to Boleyn’ she thought to herself, a grimace present on her face when she had to face her thoughts. She jumped when she heard a doorbell ringing. Cathy rushed towards the door and opened it, revealing Boleyn. Boleyn who looked dazzling.

 She wore black jeans and a green shirt which was in the same emerald green as her eyes. She applied some green eyeshadow that made her eyes glimmer and her signature red lipstick was also present. If it would be any other girl, Cathy would surely be attracted to them at that moment but she had to remind herself that it was that Boleyn girl, Anne Boleyn. The one girl whom she hated with a fiery passion.

 “Boleyn,” Started Cathy dryly, not showing the other girl that she liked the way she looked tonight. “You are late.”

 “Well, it’s a good thing that I don’t have to explain myself to you then. We are just project… partners. Nothing more.” Responded Boleyn with a smug smile on her face, clearly enjoying angering Cathy who just shook her head and reluctantly invited her inside.

 “My mother is at work but she will be home at 8.30 so that’s the latest we can do our rehearsals.” She mentioned as she led Boleyn towards the living room.

 “Sure nerd, I’ll let you have your bedtime.” Joked Boleyn as she jumped on the sofa, not bothering to take off her shoes which made Cathy huff but she knew that the fight would be lost there. Cathy always chose which battles she wanted to fight. Boleyn wasn’t finished. “Have you read the script?”

 “I didn’t have time yet.” Replied Cathy, getting her stuff ready.

 “You were busy with your books? Pretty nerdy if you ask me.” Teased girl in green with a sneer.

 “I was with my friends if you really wanted to know but it’s none of your business. Now, I think both of us should read the script by ourselves and then we’ll work on it.” Cathy started full-on school and work mode. Boleyn surprisingly just nodded at that and they both read in silence.

 Cathy read the script quickly, having experience in quick reading from all the books she had read. The whole scene was simple enough except the last part which made her stop breathing for a few seconds. She had to kiss Anne Boleyn at the end. She had to kiss her biggest enemy… The same enemy she might have a small crush on.

 The Parr girl looked at Boleyn, studying her face as she finished reading. She saw her shock as she read the last few lines. Boleyn girl looked at her with an unreadable expression.

 “Well, if we want to have a career with drama, sometimes we have to do things we don’t actually like.” She said simply and Cathy nodded in silent agreement.

 The two started rehearsing and Cathy saw how the two of them worked great together, both knowing what the other would do without the need for words. An instant connection. Sure, they had to work on some things but Cathy had to agree that working with Anne (not Boleyn anymore out of respect) was in some aspects way better than working with either two of her best friends - Jane and Catalina - with whom she worked within the past. Cathy also made sure to not appear too friendly with the other girl (they were supposed to hate each other after all) but she knew that if she were to spend more time with her, she might eventually like her. That was a thought that would make past Cathy gag but present Cathy simply loved it.

 The two of them were nearing the kiss part of the scene and just before they could begin it, Cathy saw that it was almost 8.30. If Boleyn had come those 15 minutes earlier, they would still have time but now they had to finish for today. A part of Cathy was glad, not being ready for this but her other part, the gay one, was whining for missing out on kissing a girl she likes. Yes, she said it. Catherine Parr likes Anne Boleyn. Cathy would do anything to kiss those red lips that were Anne’s trademark.

 “It’s almost 8.30. We should finish for today.” Cathy said softly. Boleyn looked at her phone as if to confirm the time and nodded vigorously.

 “It really is! I have to say you were not as bad as I thought nerd but I think we will have to do another study session. Are you free tomorrow?” Asked the girl in green clothing that made Cathy’s mouth water slightly, just slightly.

 “I am but we will be unable to be in my house for it - my mum is having friends over tomorrow for most of the day.”

 “We can use my house, Parr. My mother and father are away until next Thursday so I’m alone there and have a free reign over it.” Offered Boleyn, packing her stuff into her bag, not organizing them at all.

 “Yes, that would be great. Just give me your address and tell me the time.” Answered Cathy with a small smile, happy to see Boleyn next day.

 “I’ll text you, Parr. Thanks anyway for having me here today. Bye.” Said Boleyn and headed towards the door. Cathy offered her own goodbye and closed the door behind the girl. She cleaned the living room and headed towards her bedroom. She sat on her bed and after a few minutes, she received Boleyn’s address and “be at my house at 6 nerd” after it. She simply smiled, excited for tomorrow.

Note : if you have any idea for prompt and you like my writing style, message me :)

#parrlyn #six the musical #anne boleyn #catherine parr

[darkdisrepair]

you look perfect tonight

here we are again, with the tiny tiny kat au! in this episode, cleves struggles with self-image as she prepares for her first solo art exhibition. i guess warnings if you struggle with that sort of thing...

also in this i kind of headcanon kitty as exhibiting signs of mutism (meaning she has the ability to speak but has such severe social anxiety/has been abused so much while speaking that she refrains from doing so for most of the time). i’m not an expert, this is just an idea that came to me after i realized that i rarely write kat as having dialogue in these, and maybe that was for a reason.

~

Cleves stared at the reflection of herself in the mirror, turning left and right to catch every angle. She couldn’t help but notice the weird scars on her legs from her adventures rock climbing, and the awkward way that the pantsuit she wore sat around her hips. 

She didn’t want to come out of the bathroom. She didn’t want the other queens to ooh and aah over her outfit, like she knew they would. Were they being honest? She could never tell.

She smoothed her hair down for the twentieth time before taking a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. 

“You alright in there, love?” Jane called through the door.

“Fine,” Cleves answered.

She allowed herself just one more minute before pulling the door open, trying to resist the temptation to just stay in the bathroom and hide forever.

Just like Cleves knew they would, the other queens immediately started gushing when she came out into the living room. 

“Oh, you look stunning!” Jane exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly. “That red really suits you. It really brings out your eyes.”

“You look smashing!” 

“Very bold,” Parr agreed. 

“Give us a twirl, Cleves!” Aragon urged.

“They’re going to go crazy over you,” Anne said, with a wide smile on her face. “You certainly know how to make a splash.”

She didn’t want to make a splash. She didn’t want to walk into the room and have everyone look to her, judge her, make fun of her. Because she knew they would, no matter how much they tried to pretend that they didn’t. 

“Everyone will be talking about this outfit,” Jane added, practically bursting with pride.

Everyone was speaking at once, saying how they liked the lines of the suit here, the curve to the blouse there, the silver around the sleeves... Cleves hated every second of it. The more they looked at her, the more she wanted to run, change back into her sweatpants and sweatshirt and go back to being Cleves the artist, not Cleves the Artist, who had her work on display.

“Guys... can we not talk about this anymore?” Cleves asked, but none of them were listening. None of them but Kitty, who started tapping on Parr’s arm, trying to get the older girl’s attention with little success.

The voices got louder, and louder, and louder, until Cleves couldn’t take it anymore, until she could feel her face getting hotter and hotter and her stomach hurt and there was a roaring in her ears-

“STOP TALKING!” Cleves shouted. 

The room fell silent immediately. The words had come out harsher than she’d intended them to. Kitty, who had been sitting on the arm of Parr’s chair, pressed herself closer to the curly haired queen. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just... can we not talk about it?”

“Why not, love? You look gorgeous!” Jane exclaimed. 

“Please stop saying that. I just don’t want to think about the exhibition anymore, alright? Is that enough of an explanation for you?

Jane flinched. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t.”

“We won’t talk say a word about it anymore,” Parr promised. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“Great. Now, can I go change?” Cleves asked, struggling to keep her voice even and the tears out of her eyes.

The other queens seemed too shocked do anything but nod. Cleves was gone an in instant, stripping the pantsuit off her body, bundling it up into a ball and throwing it into the corner of her bedroom.

They don’t really think you look pretty, a voice in her head hissed as she flopped down onto her bed, her heartbeat still roaring in her ears. They were just saying that to make you feel good about yourself.

“Shut up,” Cleves murmured, burying her head into her pillow. “You’re lying.”

Everyone at the exhibition is going to wonder if someone like you could ever make art look that beautiful.

He certainly didn’t think you looked that good.

“Anna?” 

A quiet voice, barely a whisper broke through the whirlwind of thoughts in Cleves’s brain, and she sat up, brushing the dampness from her cheeks.

Kitty stood there, hiding behind the doorframe, her head just barely visible.

“What’s up, little one?” 

Kitty opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, but closed it again, stepping further out of view.

“It’s okay, you can come in. What do you want to talk about?” Cleves asked, getting up from the bed and padding towards where the little girl was standing. 

Kitty took a few hesitant steps toward Cleves.

“I think you looked really pretty,” she said in a tiny voice.

Cleves felt like she’d been hit in the stomach with a boulder, as if all of the air had been sucked out of her.

In the month that Kitty had lived with the five queens, she’d never said more than three words to Cleves. Her therapist had once tried to force Kitty to speak and she’d had a panic attack- her fear of speaking to people she didn’t trust was that severe.

This was the first sentence that Kitty had ever voluntarily spoken aloud to Cleves. 

“Oh, Kitty,” she whispered, holding her arms out to the little girl. There was no stopping her tears this time as the pink haired girl threw herself into Cleves’s arms, shaking. 

“You’re always pretty to me,” Kitty whispered, looking back up at Cleves with her huge dark eyes. All Cleves could do was hold Kitty even tighter, and try not to cry outright. 

The next day, Cleves received hundreds of compliments- on what she wore, on what she looked like, on what she painted... but the two sentences from Kitty were the ones that put a smile on her face when she went to bed, and the words that stayed in her mind the next time she sat down to paint.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #katherine howard #anna of cleves #tiny tiny kat au

[cinnamonboleyn]

Transcending Languages

This is finally done!

I did not expect for this idea to end up being as long as this, but maybe I should’ve since I have no impulse control.

This story came from a very personal place and means a lot to me, so thanks to anyone who ends up checking it out. I’m open to any feedback or constructive criticism you may have so feel free to comment.

I love Anne. I love Jane. I love them together. That is all.

Word count: 4187

The queens had come to accept that Anne was the least affectionate of the bunch.

At first, they expected things to be distant. After everything that happened in their past lives they weren’t exactly comfortable with each other right away.

Kat and Jane were the closest off the bat, although it took them a while to get to that point. Aragon and Parr slowly became comfortable with group hugs and couch cuddles. Anna eventually warmed up in her own way, calling everyone ‘babes’ and sometimes picking up the smaller queens when she could get away with it (in Parr’s case, it wasn’t often. But sometimes she’s too lazy to get off the couch at 3am and go to her room so she relents).

But it never came with Anne.

She was never the first to initiate a hug. When she did hug, she was usually the first to pull away.

Casual shoulder touches and hand grabs didn’t phase her at all.

It was the worst when Anne was having a bad day. Jane wanted nothing more than to be able to comfort her and say “Everything’s going to be alright, love.”

To have her understand that she didn’t have to hide behind her tough personality all of the time.

But Jane has no idea how to communicate that to her.

With Katherine, everything was so intuitive… but she didn’t have that same connection with Anne.

Still, she was adamant about finding something that could help.

Unknowingly, the clue she’d been waiting for dropped into her lap one night before the show.

Jane was in her shared dressing room with Aragon and Katherine. Kat had already gotten ready and left, and from the sounds of it was running around on the staircases with some of the queens from the other dressing room.

Every so often her and Aragon’s chatting was interrupted by laughter erupting from the corridor.

“This is why they have to crawl up the stairs after every performance.” The Spanish queen remarked jokingly.

“One way to get their energy up I suppose-“

There was stomping down the hall, and the door to the dressing room slammed open.

“WHERE’S MY CHOKER?!”

On the surface, Anne was very angry. Her eyes were practically bulging out of her skull and she looked about ready to flip the vanity and smash the mirrors.

But after getting to know her over the past few months, both women also noted the intense fear she held.

“DID SOMEBODY TOUCH IT?” She started shuffling clothes around on the racks, desperate to find the missing necklace.

Jane got up, gently intertwining her hands with the green queen who’s eyes snapped up to meet her gaze.

“Anne, I promise we’ll find your choker. Come sit down, please.”

Boleyn shook her head vigorously in protest. “No.”

“Anne, love-“

“I CAN’T GO ON WITHOUT IT! I - I c-can’t..”

The angry girl stormed off to one of the chairs, practically choking to keep the sobs down.

Aragon cut in, looking to resolve the issue. “I’ll go get the others to look for it.”

The queen left with purpose, which meant Jane was alone with the exploding ball of anxiety that was Anne Boleyn at that moment.

After a few minutes of awkward silence and Jane not mentioning the way Anne was clawing at her neck, she went and took a seat closer to her.

“It’ll all be alright, love, I promise-“

She reached her hand forward to place it on the small of Anne’s back, but the green queen stopped her dead in her tracks with the intense look in her eyes.

“SHUT UP, Jane! It’s not alright!”

The blonde pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned.

She was forced to watch as Anne continued to hyperventilate in her seat, shaking like a leaf.

She couldn’t do anything to calm her down.

And as much as Anne’s angry words hurt, she also knew that the girl herself was hurting immensely as wasn’t actually mad at her.

All Jane wanted to do was help.

After what seemed like an eternity of heart-wrenching suffering from both queens, Aragon entered the room trailed by the three others.

A familiar ‘B’ necklace was between the golden queen’s hands.

Without having to be told, Jane instantly stood up to let Aragon take her place.

“There was a mix up. It was with the alternate’s costumes.”

All of the anger disappeared from Anne’s eyes once she saw her lost choker again. Slowly, she moved her hands away from where they were gripping her neck as the Spanish queen helped clasp it back in it’s rightful place.

“Everything’s solved.”

Anne’s cheeks morphed into a crimson colour. Her eyes were apologetic, as if she just registered her behaviour from the past few minutes and regretted it.

Her mouth opened and closed multiple times, a few sounds coming out but never forming a coherent phrase.

Something overtook Aragon.

There was a surge of maternal energy that coursed through her just by looking at Anne in such a vulnerable state.

Slinging an arm around her former enemy’s shoulder only made the other girl tense up even more.

“We understand. There’s no need to be embarrassed about anything, bella.”

That last word slipped out of her mouth without a second thought. It was a term her mother used to affectionately call her back in Spain, and it was one she occasionally used on her daughter Mary, though not nearly as much as she wished she would have.

At that one sentence, Anne’s demeanour changed into one Jane had never seen from the brunette.

She melted into Aragon’s touch like a wad of putty, letting a few tears show themselves.

Even Aragon seemed a little shocked by this. Slightly confused, she still deepened the semi-hug she was giving out hoping to make her feel as comforted as possible.

“Thank you…” Anne’s voice was small. Not loud like it usually was, and it lacked its familiar raspiness.

Jane was absolutely bewildered.

They stayed like that for a while, and for once it wasn’t Boleyn who pulled away from the hug first. Aragon did, giving a spirited smile to the younger queen.

“So are you ready to kill it out there and tell me I’m less fit than you?”

This drew a laugh from Anne, who wiped away the stray tears. “You know I always am.”

It seemed like she was about to stand up, but after a moment’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around the older queen for one final hug.

Then she skipped happily out of the room, not an ounce of anger in sight.

Aragon and Jane shared a look of what the heck just happened, do you understand?

But curtain call was in about negative three seconds so they knew this was a conversation for later.

During the show, Anne was an even brighter ball of energy than usual. Which was saying a lot considering there wasn’t much more energy to be used during her regular performances.

Her song was much more carefree, her comedic lines made the audience cheer every time and she moved like a weightless feather across the stage.

Even her snarky lines were delivered with a light playfulness that gave the impression that she was… happier.

After final bows were done and they were all changed out of their costumes, they met back up at the stage door. It seemed Anne had arrived first and was comfortably chatting with the fans. She reached up every so often to check that her own choker was still around her neck, but she was much bubblier than usual.

Finally, the group arrived home and most of the queens were dying to get to bed after their staircase adventures combined with the show.

Only, as Jane tried to get to the front door, her hands were grabbed which stopped her in her tracks.

“Jane, wait.”

Turning around, she found Boleyn rocking slightly on her feet. Her eyes were glued to the pavement leading to their front door.

“What is it?” Jane murmured gently.

“You… didn’t deserve to hear any of that from me. It means a lot that you still tried to help, even when I was acting like that.”

She squeezed Anne’s hands supportively. “I don’t blame you at all. We can’t always control the way we react in those kinds of situations.”

She couldn’t help but pull her closer.

“I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

Anne was as unresponsive as a solid metal pole.

No leaning in closer, no slight smile, not even an embarrassed kind of look Katherine sometimes got when Jane overloaded her with compliments.

Nothing.

Unsurprisingly, Boleyn broke the contact first.

“Have a good night, Jane.”

Always stoic, she walked through the door leaving the blonde queen outside alone.

What am I doing wrong?

A deep sigh presented itself along with the frown on her lips.

Jane was at a loss.

Even if Anne was thankful for the effort, Jane really wished it had more of an impact.

Nothing she ever said or did made the girl as comfortable as she just was with Aragon.

No matter how hard she tried.

The front door opened again, revealing Aragon with tired eyes holding two mugs.

“I made you some tea,” She leaned against the railing on their front porch, Jane following suit. “You deserve some pampering after the night you’ve had.”

Thanking her friend, she took she mug and stirred the tea bag around apprehensively.

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who deserves the pampering. You’re the one who solved the problem.”

“You stayed with Anne and helped her through her panic attack. That’s no easy feat either.”

“I… I just sat there, Catherine. You’re really the one who helped her.”

Aragon set a concerned hand on Jane’s back. “Where’s this coming from?”

Jane shook her head, dismissive of herself.

“I never know what to do to calm Anne down. Whatever I try, she seems to shrink away even more…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “Is it me? Is she uncomfortable around me?”

“Not at all, Jane.”

Aragon’s voice was always so self-assured. Looking into her crisp yet bright brown eyes, she desperately wanted to believe her.

“I know how much it means to you to make everyone else feel better. Even if Anne was uncomfortable with you, which she most definitely is not, it’s not always your job to fix everything.”

The Spanish queen smiled. “Be easy on yourself. You deserve to be comforted sometimes too.”

Seymour felt her shoulders relax at her words.

“Thank you, Catherine.”

“Now, about Anne… nobody has been able to get through to her until tonight. And trust me, if there was anyone she would’ve opened up to it would’ve been you. But there was something about the specific word I said that made her jolt in my arms.”

Jane recalled the situation. “When you said bella?” She instantly felt bad for butchering the pronunciation with her awful accent.

For her part, Catherine didn’t laugh. She confirmed with a nod. “I haven’t the slightest idea why she had that reaction. I know that Anne can speak Spanish but it seems unlikely that she would have any attachment to it, especially over English terms of affection.”

The two discussed possible options. Whether Anne has ever known or talked about anyone from Spain, if the word bella was somehow attached to someone or something else.

Their ideas went nowhere.

Jane sighed. “I haven’t even heard her speak the language before, not even back when we were in court together. It was always French, never-“

A loud gasp came from Aragon.

“Jane! You brilliant woman, that’s it!”

The mentioned queen raised her eyebrows. “What did I say?”

Without a reply Aragon sped into the house, nearly spilling her half-full cup of tea all over her lap in the process. She returned with a giant French to English dictionary that probably belonged to Cathy.

Not too sure why she needed one. Cathy was basically a dictionary herself.

The pages flipped faster than Jane could keep track of and she had no idea how the older queen could even find what she was looking for.

She finally landed on a page and pointed emphatically to something written.

Belle /bel/

Adjective

Beautiful

Even though Jane hasn’t had as formal of an education as Catherine or even Anne herself, she still had basic knowledge of reading and writing in French which was enough to connect the dots.

“The two words are extremely similar.” She acknowledged.

“France is where she grew up… and though I was never in court until later in my life, I can imagine that the pressure of it all makes words of praise most effective.”

Jane tore her eyes from the page, glancing up at Aragon. “You really think that’s it?”

“It’s definitely possible. I guess there’s one way to find out.”

The two continued to chat, sipping their tea while making light conversation. When the two decided to get some sleep, Jane made sure to bring the dictionary to her room with her.

The opportunity to use this newfound information presented itself a few weeks later.

“Ready, Anne?” Jane asked.

The two stood in front of a pristine building. It looked incredibly professional, yet lacked the personality of something like the Arts Theatre.

Truth be told, she was happy to be spending the day with Anne. It wasn’t often that it was just the two of them, so when they were offered this TV interview together Jane jumped at the opportunity.

“Always,” Boleyn tossed her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “Too bad television wasn’t a thing back in our time, I was born with this sort of thing.”

If this had been said back before they came together for the show, Jane would’ve perceived her words as egocentric.

Now that they knew each other better and weren’t competing with each other, Jane knew that performing and doing interviews was her way of reclaiming her past.

Especially after all of the false accusations made against her.

Anne opened the large glass doors and walked in like she owned the place. Jane trailed not too far behind.

A kind receptionist pointed them in the direction of the TV studio and they headed off to find it.

After walking into what seemed to be a room behind the set, a handful of attendants miced them before sending them off.

The set itself was nothing special. A few couches, a background that seemed to have many historical figures and moments on it. Anne had her eye on the mural of William Shakespeare.

From their briefing from their manager, Jane recalled him saying this was an up and coming history talk show. Which would benefit greatly from having interviews with real historical figures.

“Jane Seymour!”

A guy stepped away from someone powdering his face with makeup to introduce himself. He was holding cue cards which signaled to both women that this was the host.

He took Jane’s hand in a firm handshake. “It’s lovely to meet you both.”

“It’s lovely to be here!” Anne piped up excitedly from beside them, her gaze locked on the cameras currently being tampered with by workers.

“Thank you for having us.” Jane added politely.

He led the two over to the couch, and sat down on his own seat.

“Very standard questions about your past lives. Answer as organically as possible.”

He turned directly to Jane.

“I have no doubt you’ll do great.”

The blonde queen forced up a laugh, but really was starting to get a weird feeling about this whole thing.

“Ten seconds until we’re live!”

Anne fixed her hair and brushed off her skirt. Jane shifted her position in her seat.

The cameramen counted down from five and then some sort of jingle on the lute started playing. Maybe something Anna would be familiar with?

“Welcome everyone, to History Tonight! This afternoon we’re lucky to be in the literal presence of two very important historical figures.” He introduced.

“Jane Seymour! Might I state again how much of an honour this is. As many of the viewers might know, your story and time in power as Queen is one of my favourite historical periods to discuss.”

“I’m flattered, thank you.”

The host gestured to his cards. “Let’s get right into it then, shall we?”

It started simple enough. The host asked questions about how Jane got invited to court

and her experiences there.

It quickly became apparent that he had no plans of asking Anne anything.

“Describe your time with King Henry The Eight.”

Jane hesitated at the very blunt question. “Well, my feelings are very complicated-“ At a loss, she looked at the queen sat next to her.

Luckily, Anne jumped in to save her. “Henry was a strange case. He was hot-headed, he got wrapped up into his own fantasies quite often. Love was a lot different back then than it is today-“

The host cut her off with a follow-up question. “Would you say the adultery was accepted in your time?”

The question was delivered with narrow eyes and with a sting in his voice, Anne couldn’t help but feel that it was meant to insult her.

“A matter of treason.” Her tone sharpened, “Certainly not accepted, regardless of your innocence.”

“There’s no need to get defensive.” The host chided, making a subtle motion to the camera.

Jane noticed how Anne deflated from beside her. If they weren’t being filmed, she knew this guy would’ve been given an earful.

Which is what he deserves.

“Jane, what was it like serving as Miss Boleyn’s lady-in-waiting?” He pushed up his glasses slightly, squinting closer at his cards.

“Some reports have noted her as… temperamental.”

Anne pressed her lips together to contain herself. Still, Jane was able to look under all of simmering rage to find that she was truly hurt.

More so that she couldn’t do anything to defend herself because of the cameras in front of them.

“Maybe she was temperamental.” Jane could feel a burning in her chest. It felt weird because she was rarely angry, but it also felt good.

It felt right and justified.

“Just as I was manipulative and courted Henry during Anne’s time as Queen! Does that make me undeserving of respect? Because you seem to think it does! Sure, Anne’s temperamental just as we all are sometimes. She’s also an incredibly intelligent and ambitious woman who I admire for her fierceness and unwavering strength. Our past is behind us. I would like to make it clear to all of your viewers that nobody was perfect back then just as nobody is perfect now. We’re all humans, and what’s important is that our past doesn’t define us.”

After finishing her rant, her eyes met Anne’s again.

Her lips curled into a grateful smile.

“Marvelously said, Jane Seymour. Truly a testament to what an amazing role model you are and you continue to be.”

Jane gave a cordial nod, one that barely acknowledged his words.

What he had to say about her character didn’t matter.

“One more question before we cut to break…” there was a dangerous glint in the host’s eye that told the queens that he wasn’t okay with being undermined on his own show.

“Anne… how does it make you feel that your daughter was left motherless at two years old because of your actions?”

The queen jolted up, in a complete state of shock at the question being asked.

“I!-”

“And that’s all the time we have! We’ll be back after a word from our sponsors.”

The cameramen started bustling around again. The host stood up and shuffled the cards in his hands.

Both queens were too petrified to move.

“Great job,” the host addressed only Jane once again, “The viewers are going to love this. Ending on a cliffhanger keeps ratings up, especially with the narrative we’re pushing.”

If there had been steam coming from Jane’s ears right at that moment it wouldn’t have surprised her.

She had never felt the overwhelming desire to push someone in front of a bus before.

It turns out that there’s a first time for everything.

But when Anne looked over at her with defeated eyes, shaking her head in utter disbelief, her anger subsided.

“Anne…”

The girl stood up, taking quick steps to get out of the room without looking back.

Jane turned back to the host. “I hope you realize how despicable this charade of an interview was. Don’t call us back.”

Spinning on her heels, Jane followed her friend out of the door of the building.

“Anne!” She tried to call after her, but Boleyn didn’t show any signs of stopping.

“Anne, wait up please…”

After managing to catch up to the girl, Jane tapped her on the shoulder. She reluctantly turned around.

Stray tears rested on her red cheeks. “I should’ve- I didn’t even-”

“Hey.” The blonde queen rested a hand on the girl’s arm, gently guiding her over to a nearby bench.

“Talk to me, Anne. I’m here.”

Her face hardened intensely. Her breathing became uneven.

Jane could do nothing but watch.

“I’m so stupid. God, IM SO STUPID-”

Her tone became more and more harsh. Her volume intensified.

Jane could do nothing but watch.

No.

Not this time.

“Anne, ma belle…”

The girl froze. It was like everything around her stopped. All she could hear was Jane’s loving voice and it pulled her out of reality.

“Come here.”

Anne didn’t fight against the caring vibes coming from Jane.

Slowly, her head leaned against the older women’s shoulder and she allowed herself to accept the comfort being given.

The blonde queen stroked her friend’s wavy brown locks.

“What that man said holds no merit. Everyone knows that Lizzie means the world to you, you gush about her everyday. Don’t blame yourself for not defending her because you weren’t given even a sliver of a chance.”

There were a few moments of silence. Jane felt Anne’s chest making sudden motions, as if she was sobbing but wasn’t letting any sound escape.

Jane was happy to be there to comfort her, happy to be helping for a change.

After a while, Anne spoke up.

“Is that really how the public wants to perceive me?” Her voice lost its usual edge, like it had when she was having her moment with Aragon. “Some sort of villain? Are they looking for anything in my past to use against me?”

“I promise you that’s not the case. Our fans will fight that host to the end of time over this, I can guarantee that. That guy was blinded by viewers and ratings and failed to realize that if he comes off as mean, his whole audience is gone.”

More tears welled up in Anne’s eyes. “If he sees me as an awful person, then what’s stopping everyone else from seeing me the same way-“

“Chérie.”

This word got an audible reaction from Anne. She let out a small whimper, curling closer to Jane who wrapped her arms protectively around her.

“Now that our voices are being heard, the people with open minds are changing the way they think.” Seymour whispered, dropping the hair in favour of tracing circles into Anne’s back. “Everyone who refuses to listen isn’t worth the time of day. Besides, you’re an incredible person and we all know that.”

Jane boldly locked eyes with Anne’s teary brown ones. “We love you. I love you, Anne.”

More tears started dripping down the brunette’s cheeks, and Jane was starting to worry that she said something wrong.

She was happy when the girl’s lips upturned slightly. “Thanks, Jane. Thank you so much.”

They rested on the park bench for a while, Anne’s heavy crying slowing down to light hiccups.

She pulled herself back into an upright position on the bench.

“I didn’t know you spoke French, Jane.”

The blonde laughed. “I’ll admit I was pretty rusty. But after what happened with Aragon and your choker, I realized that maybe my usual words don’t have the same effect and I should try something a little more tailored to you.”

“You.. you studied a whole language? Just for me?”

Jane’s heart jumped at the amount of thankfulness on Anne’s face.

“You’re worth it, ma petite.”

A huge grin creeped onto Boleyn’s face.

“The Archduchess of France used to call me that.”

“I suppose it made more sense considering Margaret was older than you,” Jane laughed lightheartedly, “If it makes you happy, then I’ll repeat it as much as you want.”

A nervous frown suddenly appeared on the girl’s lips.

“Is it wrong for you to be doing this? I mean, you shouldn’t have to-”

Jane calmly interjected. “It’s alright Anne. If the way you experience comfort is different, then I’m happy to deliver it to you.”

She smiled, recalling Aragon’s words.

“You deserve to be comforted sometimes too.”

Her frown was quick to fade at those words.

“You’re the best, Jane.” She beamed.

The woman tucked some hair lovingly behind Anne’s ear.

“The pleasure’s all mine, mon amour.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #anne boleyn #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #hurt/comfort #happy ending #in this universe kitty jane and aragon share a dressing room #six #my heart is happy

[dreamcatcherfication]

The Queens of London Part 4 - My Shadow’s the Only One That Walks Beside Me

I wrote this at 1 AM and it really shows. Anyway, I have no idea what’s happening anymore but I tried my best! This chapter feels very filler-y at parts, but I do like where everything is going, so you’ll have to stick around and “Suddenly Seymour”! *gets hit by flying book* Okay, I see how it is. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I’ve gotten so little sleep that I can hear colors.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Vague allusions to abuse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Everyone was sat at their meeting table, silently watching each other. There was a (laminated) plan set out in front of each chair for every queen and lady, the only empty seat being Anne’s. Clearly, some of the queens and ladies like Aragon and Joan were eager to start, but no one made any move without Boleyn. The silence was practically deafening for Kat who swore she could hear something ringing.

Soon enough, the door opened slowly and Anne shuffled in. She shot a glance at Kat but turned her gaze away and sat in her seat. “Can we start now?” Aragon asked in exasperation.

“Yeah, sorry,” Anne replied, her voice slightly heavier than normal. She didn’t quite look nervous, per se, but rather like she knew something she wished she didn’t. Cathy shot a questioning glance at Anne, but kept her mouth shut. Kat couldn’t help but observe all of this, an uncomfortable hole settling in her stomach.

“Alright,” Jane started, smiling warmly at her companions. “Henry’s party is in two nights time, and we need to be prepared. Anna, I believe you have something for us.”

Snapping her fingers, Anna stood up. “Right you are, Jane Suddenly Seymour,” she joked. Bessie stood up as well, lifting a large bag she had set under the table. “Outfits made by yours truly,” Anna presented, helping Bessie lift the first dress. “Miss Aragon, would you like to see your dress,” Cleves continued her over dramatic flair.

Rolling her eyes, Aragon stood up and moved over to the other two women. Unfurling the dress, Kat couldn’t help but gasp at its beauty. It was long and sweeping, the ends ruffled in all the right places to create shimmering waves. There were sparkles around the chest portion, accentuating Aragon’s dark skin against it. As for the whole of the dress, it was a radiant gold, regal and unapologetic, perfect for the queen who would wear it. The bottom half of the dress was silky and trembled at the slightest wind. Holding the dress against her body, Aragon admired Cleves’s work. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Anna,” she praised, leaving the room to go change and try the dress on. Even if she trusted Anna, the designer always encouraged them to try the dresses on and make sure they fit well.

“Just wait until you see the rest,” Anna smirked.

As Aragon changed, Bessie pulled out the second dress. “Anne, I believe this one’s for you,” she said, delicately placing the dress on the table. If Aragon’s had been radiant, this one was entrancing. It was a dark green, so thick that just looking at the dress made Kat’s chest clench. This dress was a little shorter and more revealing (important to the part Anne would be playing) but no less astounding than Aragon’s. There were jewels tacked along the breast line, making the dress even more elegant. A leather band wrapped around the waist, holding the dress together. 

“Wow,” Kat murmured, absolutely transfixed.

“Going off Kat’s reaction, I think I can safely say this dress is going to capture plenty of attention,” Cleves raised an eyebrow at Anne. Kat blushed and looked down, embarrassed at being called out.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Anne replied cheekily. Aragon came back into the room, twirling in her dress. There were various compliments among the women, including a wolf whistle from Anne. “Looking good Catalina,” she teased.

“Stuff it, Anne,” Aragon pretended to be annoyed. “Go change into your dress,” she ordered.

“As her majesty wishes,” Anne bowed out of the room, with her dress, off to try it on.

“I suppose I’m next,” Jane spoke up. She and the other ladies had been quiet throughout the ordeal, simply watching on in silent interest.

“Indeed,” Anna affirmed, reaching into the bag. Her next item was simpler, but when Jane laid eyes on it, she couldn’t help but immediately fall in love. It was a white dress with black outlines around the edges, accenting the curves and highlighting a wavy pattern. There were faint glitters on the dress, making it shine, but there was nothing inherently distracting about it like Anne’s. It was straightforward and beautiful, just as Jane would’ve asked.

For some reason, seeing the dress brought up a nostalgic feeling in Jane’s chest. She pushed it down and grasped the dress, thanking Anna politely. She left the room quicker than the others, moving past Anne as she reentered the room. “Wow,” Kat said again, seeing Anne in the dress. 

Winking at the table, Anne twirled, catching everyone’s attention. “This is the best thing you’ve made yet, Anna,” she praised while smoothing the dress.

Shrugging off the praise, Anna and Bessie pulled out the next two articles of clothing. “Now, for our last two queens,” she looked at Cathy and Kat respectively, “you need utmost mobility while also appearing formal and wearing your best. Cathy, if you’re to observe properly, you can’t be wearing a distracting dress that hinders you. Solution? Suits.” 

Revealing the suit, Cleves grinned proudly at her creation. A dark blue blazer, rich in color but plain otherwise surrounded the outfit. The color was eye-catching and blended perfectly with Parr’s skin tone. The shirt was a white button up with black stripes running up it, thin but strongly supporting the outfit. The pants were also blue, high waisted over the shirt itself. Sat on the table it was stunning, and Kat couldn’t wait to see the journalist actually donning the outfit.

When Cathy didn’t get up, everyone stared at her. “Aren’t you gonna… try it on?” Bessie nervously prompted.

Hiding her awkwardness behind a laugh, Cathy shook her head. “No, I - uh - I’d rather do that by myself if that’s alright.”

“No problem at all,” Cleves waved her off. “Let me know if there’s any problems with it. Kat,” she called unexpectedly.

Jumping in her seat, Kat quickly put on her persona. “Hmm?” She voiced, hiding her excitement. “My turn? Go ahead,” Kat made it seem like she was holding back a yawn.

The women all shot her confused looks, surprised by her nonchalance that had come completely out of left field. Maria and Maggie shared a confused look, but they said nothing. “Alright,” Cleves frowned, attempting to dispel the sudden tension. “Now, we weren’t sure what color would work, but Bessie had the great idea of this hot pink that I think you’re going to love.”

Sure enough, Kat had to stifle her astonishment at the suit. Like Cathy’s, it was covered by a hot pink blazer with black flower patterns scattered on it. The white shirt beneath it was plain, but the suspenders attached to them gave off a 1920s vibe that Kat adored. The pants were also pink, the same shade as the blazer, although there were no patterns on it. To top it off, there was a black choker sat on top of the outfit. “You like it?” Bessie asked, her eyes slightly twinkling. She had worked on this outfit specifically with Anna, and she was extremely proud of how it had turned out. 

“You did a good job,” Kat coughed out, making sure to keep her compliments vague.

“It’s absolutely stunning,” Jane said softly from the doorway, her dress stealing the spotlight. Everyone turned around to gaze at her, their eyes wide. For something so simple, Jane stood out among all of them. The dress had a life of its own, practically giving off an air of emotion to whoever set eyes on it.

Pushing Kat’s suit forward, Cleves urged, “Now that Jane’s back, you can try your suit on, Kat.”

“Uh,” panicking, Kat replied, “could I do what Cathy did?” At the awkward looks she received, Kat clarified, “Try it on at home?”

“Sure,” Anna continued, unbothered. “Bessie and I guessed on your measurements, so make sure to tell us tomorrow if something doesn’t fit right.”

“What about you, Anna?” Joan asked, speaking up for the first time that night. “Unlike us ladies, you’re going to the party. Don’t you need an outfit?”

“Of course, I have my suit already prepared. It’s a surprise for you all.”

“Why would you need a suit if you’re not going to be sneaking around,” Maggie snorted as she put her feet up on the table. 

Clicking her tongue, Anna leaned towards Maggie. “Because I just look that good in a suit.”

“Okay!” Aragon cut in. “How about we finish this meeting so we can all get home. Thank you for the clothes Anna and Bessie, they’re wonderful.” The fashion team nodded and sat down, listening to Aragon take control. “Now, let’s move on to politics.”

Walking home at one in the morning was not something Kat enjoyed, but she didn’t have a driver’s license, much less a car, so she was stuck. Trekking home with the suit, Kat couldn’t help but feel dirty. This suit in her hands was the most expensive thing she had ever held. Kat hadn’t grown up poor, sure, but she was never given things. And being kicked out of the house at a young age didn’t help her either.

Having this suit made for her felt wrong, she didn’t deserve it. She had lied her way into this group and was being rewarded for it. Kat knew she wanted to help, but it didn’t make the process any easier. She was used to being alone on the streets. Before she had been able to earn barely enough for rent, Kat had lived on these streets. All by herself.

There was a strange limbo between comfort and fear as she stood alone at a streetlight. Kat was used to this, the silence of the night disrupted only by her breathing. Yet she knew of the things that lurked around the corners that weren’t her shadow. For a second, Kat contemplated staying out in the dark and never returning home. 

Before she could travel further down that path, Kat arrived at her apartment. Going into the building and making her way to the door, Kat fumbled with her keys. Getting the door open was harder than usual, the lock seemingly jammed for some reason. Regardless, she got the door open and made her way inside. Running a hand through her hair, Kat flipped on a light and squeaked in surprise, coming face to face with Anne Boleyn in her kitchen.

“Hey Brandon. You and I are gonna have a little chat,” Anne spoke coldly. “Couch. Now.”

Sitting on the couch, Kat stared at her hands, too afraid to look in Anne’s eyes. She had been caught, hadn’t she? Terrible thoughts kept running through her mind on what Anne might do, but Kat refused to voice any of them. “I thought you looked familiar to me,” Anne monologued while pacing in front of Kat. “I was just really curious as to why I know your face. But you know,” she shot a glance at the teen, “curiosity killed the Kat.”

Shivering, Kat opened her mouth, but closed it. “I thought if I stole your wallet, I’d be able to learn something about you. And oh boy did I learn something.” Making a full stop, Anne stared straight through Kat’s persona. “No drivers license or ID, no nothing. Just a few stray pounds and some lint. A laundry card with an address to some,” she gestured around the apartment, “disgusting slum house. No offense,” she quickly corrected herself, not wanting to be too aggressive. Kat shrugged. She couldn’t fault Anne for thinking her home was disgusting if she felt the same way. 

“But most intriguing of all,” Anne continued, “was the autographed card of Thomas Wolsey, one of the heads of Gemini Records. Now, anyone who has done business with Darkrider Records knows of the war those two labels are neck deep in. It’s not something they publish on the news, but if you truly were affiliated with Darkrider Records, you wouldn’t be seen within an inch of anything related to Gemini.” Gulping, Kat knew how deeply she had dug herself into a hole. “So tell me Kat, who are you?”

Taking a few quick breaths, Kat started to talk. She didn’t lift her head to face Anne and her voice was small. “My name is Katherine Howard. I’m a street musician and I have no idea how I got your letter.”

Narrowing her eyes, Anne leaned in closer to Kat. The teen expected to be slapped for deceiving Anne, or receive some kind of retaliation. Instead, Anne gasped and backed away, a look of recognition in her eyes. “Kat? Kat Howard?”

“Yeah?” Kat mumbled in confusion.

“Your father is Edmund Howard, right?” Still confused, Kat nodded, not wanting to upset Anne. “Oh my God, I know why I recognize you.”

“Why?” Kat probed, needing answers for Anne’s sudden change in behavior.

“Because you’re my cousin.”

Silence. And then Kat stood up. “I’m your what?”

“Your cousin!” Anne exclaimed. She moved closer to Kat and started inspecting her face. “I mean, you’re a lot less chubbier than I remember, but you would’ve been, what? Four at the time? You look so different.”

Backing away from Anne, Kat wrinkled her nose. “You’ve gotta have me confused with someone else. I’m not related to any Boleyns.”

“Uh, clearly you are,” Anne rolled her eyes, pointing to herself. “Your aunt is my mom. You won’t remember me, we only met like, once.”

Still, Kat was unconvinced. “Why wouldn’t my father tell me about you?”

Anne frowned and lost a bit of enthusiasm. “Everyone in the family knows Edmund as the deadbeat. His wife died and he totally pulled away from everyone. No one’s talked to him since the funeral.” Kat cringed, remembering her mother disappearing one day. And how everything had changed after that. “Although I’m not one to talk, seeing as I’m the black sheep of our family,” Anne added.

Scoffing, Kat looked at the floor. “You’re the black sheep? Have you seen where I’m living?”

Awkwardly clicking her tongue, Anne once again observed the place. “Yeah, not the best living space.”

“Can’t afford anything else,” Kat grumbled.

“Street musician doesn’t pay too well.” Turning her attention back to her newfound cousin, Anne still needed answers. “How did you get that letter?”

Shrugging, Kat wound her arms tightly around her chest. “Some lady dropped it in my guitar case yesterday. It had my name on it, so I thought it was for me. I went to the meeting and you all started calling me Katherine Brandon and… I panicked.”

“Understandable,” Anne muttered, thinking about the implications of the letter landing with Kat. “And so the plot thickens,” she whispered to herself. Anne decided not to push on that front, instead bringing up another topic. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need to,” Kat fired back. “I’m never going to do anything worthwhile in my life. This is my one shot.”

If it had been anyone else, they probably wouldn’t have encouraged Kat, but this was Anne Boleyn, known for her chaos. “Then let’s do it.”

Of all things Kat had been expecting, that wasn’t it. “You’re just going to help me?”

“Hell yeah,” Anne agreed. “I already want to take down Henry, and you’re already in on everything, so why stop now? If you’re willing to do this, then I’m gonna help you.”

A short grin grew on Kat’s face. “You won’t tell anyone I’m not really Katherine Brandon?”

“Anything for my baby cousin.”

-------------------------------------

@annabanana2401

@boleynhowards

@radcowboyalmondtree

@babeebobo

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #The Queens of London #part four #the first part is mostly filler #but then it gets better #anne is smarter than the others think #kat is also a terrible liar #but she's dedicated #beheaded cousins