#sixfictive

[fictionkinfessions]

Quoting this for him because he won't front but Intruder("Six") says "Adam was a sweet child, and I deeply miss him. He was the only one I could ever really stand being around for an extended amount of time. Even if my memories aren't up to point(?) I still miss him." He isn't the best at talking but he wanted to say something so

x

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Legend of the Six has now been updated!

Chapter 23: Daughter of Shadow

Words: 5032 

AO3 Link

When we are little, we are taught that the darkness is scary.

Children hide from it under the comforts of pillows and blankets, men shield themselves from it with torches and lanterns, and the general public escape it through dreams and sleep. From the day we are born to the day we die, we are told to fear the Dark, and the creatures that live amongst it. It’s personified as the unknown, as the wicked, as the evil. The Dark, many claim, cannot be trusted, nor can it be utilized without misfortune.

The many, to Anne Boleyn, are considered fools.

Ever since she was a little girl - even with the scary stories of the Darkness being evil and Light being good - Anne Boleyn constantly sought for a second opinion. It’s not that she didn’t trust the stories; far from it, as she had seen what the dark could do. But she’s also seen it do wonders: it hides her from an ambush when she’s younger, it reveals foolish enemies positions that don’t know how to control their shadows, and it is a comfort, still, when late at night. After all, Anne argues, the darkness is the reason why we are in awe of the stars. That’s got to count for something, right?

As she continued down this path of Darkness, she came to befriend it in a unique way. Shadows would race to her to say hello, like old friends. The Darkness often wrapped around her like a cloak, a better shield than the ones the finest blacksmiths of the Realm could make. She extended a hand to the dark and found that it not only accepted, but embraced her as their own. And she was happier for it.

Of course, her friendship didn’t go unnoticed; it’s what started the rumors in court to begin with. Many in the court would talk ill of her friends, of the comforts she held that were so unique and against the grain that people thought it scary. She was shunned by many in the courts - all afraid of this girl that could control the darkness, calling her a Servant to it, a thrall. To many, Anne was cursed, and her regency should never had seen the light of day.

Unluckily for them (and, eventually, for her), Henry wasn’t afraid of the dark either.

Anne came to understand this as she was on the run from a particularly unyielding suitor. She hid in the shadows, in the garden, waiting for the man to pass. He hadn’t seen her, and in his drunken stupor, had started calling for her quite loudly. This resulted in unwanted attention. Anne had chuckled as the man was immediately yelled at by the King himself, thoroughly embarrassed and berated in the middle of the night by such an important figure in the Realm. She expected the guy to turn tail and run, which he did.

What she DIDNT expect was for the King himself to suddenly turn and face her. Her, hidden by the darkness that she knew so well.

He looked curious, as if struggling to see her, but seeing her all the same. He called for her to appear, to not be afraid. He wasn’t afraid of the dark either, he said. He knew she wasn’t either. Perhaps they could make a habit of finding each other in the shadows in the night, perhaps they could chat about their experiences with the Dark, perhaps they could be friends.

It didn’t take too long for Anne to realize he meant something a little more than just friends.

The marriage between Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII was going rather swimmingly, at least according to anyone that looked: Catherine had just saved the world from evildoers in the South, and Henry had applauded his wife’s work. The Realm rejoiced in such a decisive victory over the enemy that day, and had even strengthened their allyship with Holbein in the process; a two for one victory that the history books were to celebrate for centuries, if all had gone to plan.

But, as Anne would later find out in their midnight rendezvous, he thought he could do more. His wife was, of course, a formidable person in battle, but the Darkness isn’t that scary. It got a bad reputation because of the Blessed that defeated the enemies in the South, he said. Why couldn’t his wife see that the darkness wasn’t something to banish, but to wield? 

To Anne, this made perfect sense because of the darkness that she knew, the darkness she assumed they were talking about. It resulted in resentment towards the (at the time, current) queen, especially when Henry finally gave her the chance to be the Blessed Aragon’s lady in waiting not too long afterwards. Anne didn’t see then that it was a way to groom her for the throne; instead, she simply thought he wanted someone in his corner, someone that understood the Dark for what it really was.

And she played right into his hands perfectly.

At least, for a while.

It was later, when Catherine was “killed,�� when she saw Jane Seymour enter the picture, that Anne realized that maybe he wasn’t a friend of the dark like she thought he was.

For one, he never was able to hide well, not from anyone. The darkness that was easy to sink into when she was alone or with Maggie or even with Catherine and Maria was not as such when he was around; it was like the Darkness rebuked him, didn’t want him near it. Didn’t claim him as their own the way that they had claimed Anne all those years ago. In her want to be queen and in her want to have someone that understood her, she ignored it; there was just something about Henry that made her want to ignore what she thought she knew. He had that way about him, a way that made her want to believe in what he said.

So when he told her to go on the road that fateful day, she had no idea what was coming.

Maria hadn’t been acting any different than usual, for example, and it was in the middle of the day when it happened. Anne was completely unsuspecting until just before the ambush occurred; at that point, her shadow gave her away. For a while, it was the shadows that was her most trusted ally as she hid, refusing to be found until she absolutely had to. 

She survived because of the Shadows. They had given her so much. But now, it seems, they were asking something of her.

Who was she to refuse?

So she sits, in front of the woman, head bowed respectfully. The woman smiles softly at the girl in front of her, as if greeting an old friend. Anne suspects she knows more about Anne than she lets on, but it’s disrespectful to ask.

“I see that you’re ready now,” she says. “To become my champion.” She nods, standing up. “It’ll be a tough road ahead of you, if you choose to embrace my gifts.”

“You have given me so much, my lady,” Anne says quietly, respectfully. “I am but an agent of your will.”

The woman looks over at Maggie, who is still bowing with her head down. She gently lifts the girl’s head up with a soft grin.

“You won’t be needed here,” the woman says, “but I won’t deny you the opportunity to observe the trial. No, you’ve done just as much as her, and I like you almost as much, but she is the Champion for a reason.”

Maggie doesnt dare look the woman in the eye, instead nodding respectfully. “I am in awe of your graciousness, my lady,” she says, a bit of a tremble in her voice. She’s a bit nervous. 

The woman smiles and offers Maggie her hand. Maggie takes it. “You may look me in the eye, you know,” the woman says. “We’re all friends here.”

Maggie does so after a moment, and she’s a bit calmer now. This doesn’t feel as formal as she thought it was going to be, but then again, the Shadows have always been somewhat misleading. 

The woman turns back to Anne, who hasn’t moved from her spot. “My Champion,” she says, sitting down in front of Anne. “You will start your Trial immediately. Should you pass, you shall become my Keeper. Should you fail… well, the outcome depends on how you do that.” She shrugs, a hand wistfully circling in the air, forming some sort of bowl with smoking black substance in it. “Drink. And you shall begin.”

Anne nods, looking back at Maggie with a smile. “I’ll be back.”

Maggie nods, still a bit nervous. “I know you will.”

And with that, Anne takes the bowl and drinks it down.

It doesn’t taste like a lot of anything, but the texture of it is vile to say the least; it feels like something is fighting to go down into her stomach, as if it had a mind of its own. She winces at the feeling, squeezing her eyes shut as the bowl, too, dissolves into the substance and enters her.

She steadies herself, feeling how the substance affects her. Her hands, now empty, fall to her sides, and she focuses. She can feel everything else falling away, can feel herself sinking deeper and deeper and deeper…

… until she’s nowhere at all.

She’s floating in nothing.

It’s dark, and it’s comfortable. She opens her eyes and sees nothing. She floats aimlessly, like in a calm river of sorts, and smiles softly; this was nice. Not really what she expected, if she was being honest, but she’ll take what she can get.

Just as she thinks that, however, she immediately feels herself drop. Now, she’s freefalling into nothing. It’s nothing too terrible, but there seems to be something… darker… just below her now. She yelps, tenses, gets ready for the impact-

-but it never comes. Instead, she’s standing still, on the darker darkness.

She looks around, curious about what’s  happening.

“Hello?” she asks. She doesn’t hear anything - no echo, no voice returning her call. It’s getting a bit cold, too, as she walks further and further into this new darkness. The shadows from before, when she was floating, were what she was comfortable with. This… was not.

Not bad, just different, and incredibly unsettling when she wasn’t used to it. 

She continues through, unseeing, and she wonders if she’s missed something, if she’s already lost the trial. There’s no real purpose to this at the moment, she realizes, and she thinks maybe she needs to do something. Maybe she’s waiting on herself.

With a deep breath, she stops walking, extending a hand above her. She closes her eyes, takes another big breath, and summons the darkness she knows so well.

Usually, it would result in the room getting darker… but that’s not the case. Not now. Her darkness is brighter than this darkness, and the comfort she’s felt for over two decades returns to her. And now, with a smile, she listens to her goddess:

“Your trial begins now, oh contested Champion. I hope you are prepared.”

Anne nods, feeling herself being tugged away and pulled impossibly fast to an impossibly far distance in the shadows - lightyears away from where she was, but also right next door. She eventually stops where she is, and her eyes adjust to the light in front of her.

She’s got solid ground below her. She’s in a hallway. It’s dark and cold and wet. It’s clear that the only light in this area has been the blue torches that dimly illuminate the area. She’s not sure where she is, but she knows she needs to continue. 

She moves forward steadily, but as she does, she starts to hear things - a voice?

“Hello?”

Not her goddess’, either.

Her hand goes to her side, where her trusted daggers would be, but they are not there now. She instead moves to the side, using her shadows to protect and cloak herself as she pushes forward. She hears the voice again, this time coming from the end of the hallway.

Someone’s here. Someone that’s definitely real.

She turns into the room, warily at first, but then she realizes who it is and raises and eyebrow.

“Catherine?!?”

Catherine is indeed there, looking around, very confused. When she spots Anne, though, she instantly rushes over to her.

“What’s going on?” Catherine asks, frowning. “I was just headed into the town we were headed into before you left and… and now I’m here.”

“You were Claimed for a time,” says a voice, one that isn’t either of theirs. “You have been Unclaimed. But now you’re Claimed again.”

Catherine seems to recognize the voice, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “In what way?”

“The Light knows what is happening,” says the voice, reassuring in tone. “And they know why you’re here. They know I won’t keep you any longer than necessary, and they know you won’t be harmed.”

Catherine seems to relax a bit then, but she’s still a bit confused. “I don’t know why I’m here, though.”

“You’re… well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Anne mumbles, a bit embarrassed. “But you’re my guide.”

Catherine blinks. “Your what?”

“In the Trials of the Shadows,” Anne explains, “we get a person that can’t be seen by the Trial, but the Chosen can see and interact with them. Someone that we have a strong connection with. Someone that’s important in our life story. Someone that the Woman chooses.”

“And… she chose me?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“We both did, it’s kind of a mutual agreement decision sort of thing,” Anne replies. “Well, most of the time. It’s my soul choosing who it is, and the Woman consenting to manifest it- it’s a long story. Not enough time, if we want to get out of here before the Festival in a few weeks.” Anne sighs, a hand running through her hair. “What you need to know is that I need someone to guide me, to help me through the tough road ahead.” She doesn’t dare look Catherine in the eye for the next part. “It seems that both myself and my mistress are in agreement that if anyone can get me through this, it’s you.”

Catherine smiles. “Well, seeing as I’ve nothing better to do-”

But the jokes stop, suddenly, as the room around them changes.

They’re suddenly in a chamber, one that’s familiar and not at the same time. It’s clearly night, but the moon is not the moon; it’s moreso a ball of energy, as if it was made of arcanic magick rather than a celestial body.

Anne moves into the room a bit more, observing quietly.

“Isn’t this the castle?” Catherine asks quietly, looking out the nearby window. It’s a town made of shadows, but a familiar town nonetheless. “This is Henry’s castle in the Capitol… but I don’t know this room.”

Anne frowns. “Me either, at least, not yet,” she looks around and tilts her head, looking down at the nearby desk. She looks at the papers, picking some up and looking through them, just in time for Catherine to meet her there.

“Anything?” Catherine asks, tilting her head.

“Just notes about certain military movements and plans,” Anne says, continuing to look through. “These look to be from my time as queen, or at least near that time-”

They both look up, however, when they hear someone unlocking the door.

“They can’t see me, but-” Catherine starts, though Anne is already ahead of her. She instantly moves to the shadows, hiding herself. Catherine simply watches as the door opens. She cringes a bit - the person is covered with shadow, their true form unable to be seen. 

They walk towards the desk, looking through papers before eventually picking up a blank one and writing on it. They continue to write, and Anne gets a better look at the paper. She narrows her eyes and, while avoiding detection, moves towards the back of the room, farthest from the door. 

Just as she does, another person enters the room - this time, Catherine gasps.

“Maria!”

Maria can’t hear her, of course, and the scene continues without interruption. 

Maria stands in front of the shadowed figure, bowing slightly.

Both Anne and Catherine wince when the shadowed figure starts talking - their voice is cloaked in a thousand others, distorted and underwater and barely even hearable yet blaring all at once. 

Maria, however, doesn’t seem to have an issue hearing them, resulting in a one-way conversation that Catherine and Anne can hear.

“Of course, I understand,” Maria says with a nod. She looks down at the paper that is handed to her, studying it carefully. Maria sets her jaw a bit before she nods slowly. There’s a moment before she tenses, looking up at the shadowy figure, clearly angry.

“I have not forgotten the promise I made,” Maria growls. “Not to her. Catherine shall not have died in vain.”

The confliction on Maria’s face makes Catherine’s heart break. 

Maria nods, salutes, and leaves the room. As soon as the door closes, the shadowy figure suddenly snaps their attention straight to Anne.

Anne’s gasp is only for a moment, as the figure rushes her, and suddenly she’s consumed by it.

“Anne!” Catherine yells, but the world is turning again, and despite her concern, another scene is playing out.

Anne, barely on her feet, moves to hide again, but… something’s changed. Something’s starting. Anne is more tense as the next scene happens, this time with the shadowy figure and a eerie green light.

Another person arrives - a magick practitioner in the castle, Catherine assumes - and speaks:

“Once we have someone to accept the terms, necromancy will be firmly in our war arsenal,” he says, looking down at a paper. “We’ve managed to connect the dots on this fairly quickly, thanks to the research at the Heart. And because of that, we may be able to control corrupted Light and Shadows easily enough in a few years.”

“They what-?” Catherine asks, but suddenly Anne is once again attacked by a shadow, once again forced to absorb it. “Anne!” Catherine yells, moving over to the girl as she falls to her knees.

Anne is gasping for air, but is clearly furious. “I can feel it,” she growls out. “The frustration, the anger, the power… it’s all here.” She holds up her hand. “This is how it would feel. To go unchecked. To be consumed… by the rage… of the past…”

Catherine frowns. “But that’s not what the Darkness is, is it? It’s not rage, it’s not power. It’s something else, isn’t it?” It’s something Catherine doesn’t totally understand, but she gets this much; it’s very similar to her own understanding of the Light.

Anne growls out, looking down at her hands as they burn with darkness. She feels it crawling around her skin, no longer the comfortable calm that she’s used to, but with newfound purpose. Anger. Betrayal. All of it. It’s feeding into her emotions, into her magicks.

Catherine sees the trial for what it really is, just in time for the scene to change again.

They’re in a room, and now Maria is back. Catherine ignores her feelings for the time being as she hears the conversation.

“It’s done,” Maria says bitterly. “She’s dead.”

The shadowed figure turns around, says things they don’t understand, and Maria nods.

“I’ll be sure to keep this in mind,” she says quietly. “For the Realm.”

Again, the shadow figure snaps her attention to Anne… but this time, Catherine steps in, quickly shielding Anne from the figure.

Catherine yelps as she absorbs it instead… but now, her Light seems to overpower it.

For now.

“Anne,” Catherine says, a bit winded by the event. Anne, for her part, is glaring at Maria, but Catherine breaks the line of sight. “Anne. Remember. This is a trial. What are all of these things doing to you?”

“They’re…” Anne growls a bit. “They’re making me angry. Angrier than I’ve ever felt.”

“Okay, and why would they want to do that? What is happening with the Darkness you’re feeling?”

Anne focuses on it, only for a moment, before her thoughts immediately go to the Maria in front of her. She’s right there, for the taking, easily killed at this angle…

“Anne, answer me.”

She looks back at Catherine. “It’s not actually Darkness,” Anne growls out. “It’s not comforting. This energy, it enhances your darkest thoughts. Your fears. Your anger-”

Anne tries to pulse towards Maria, but Catherine quickly stops it.

“Anne, focus.” Catherine says. “You can’t let this overtake you. Focus on me: why are they showing you these things? What’s the goal?”

“To make me angry,” Anne growls, struggling in Catherine’s grasp. Maria’s so close, she could almost touch her.

“Is that all?” Catherine asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s struggling to keep Anne at bay, but she’ll do it for as long as it takes to help her.

“What the fuck do you mean, is that all, it’s-!” she starts, but then her eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh, shit, oh-”

“What?” Catherine asks, clearly confused, but then the shadowed figure appears again. Anne immediately turns her attention to it, quick to suddenly pull Catherine behind her with some unseen shadows, and instantly moves to grab the shadowed figure.

Anne narrows her eyes as the shadowed figure whips their head around to face Anne, but Anne shakes her head.

“Not this time,” she says, smirking. “It was a distraction. You were always good at those. And you’re here, because you’re my weakness. You’re the reason I can’t move on, you’re the reason I can’t grow. You, and what you stand for to me.”

She grabs a torch nearby, and this time throws it at the shadowed figure.

The shadows retreated from the form, and the true terror appeared. 

Her hair as blonde as before, blue piercing eyes now tinted with green energy as the new staff she wielded resulted in a pulsing energy that made Anne want to run. She looks on with wide eyes as the woman, over and over again, summons monstrosities, clearly attempting to overrun Anne right then and there.

Anne practically growls.

“Jane fucking Seymour.”

The figure in question certainly looked like the Keeper of Necromancy, but with one distinct difference - her eyes were not normal, but instead pulsing with darkness, with eerie energy that Anne had to look away from at the moment. She shivers at the coldness that’s so apparent she can feel it, but then a warm hand holds on her shoulder and she looks up at Catherine.

“This is the trial, then.” Catherine says, so matter-of-factly that it helps calm Anne somewhat. Anne looks up, managing to overcome her own fear of the corruption before her, and nods. Catherine nods back. “Go on, then.”

Anne moves away, towards the corruption, taking a deep breath as she does so. She suddenly pulses forward, moving past the shadowy monstrosities and immediately to Jane, but the girl dodges so fast that Anne can’t react to the counterattack. Suddenly, Anne has a knife through her stomach, though it quickly dissolves into shadows as she’s released. She falls to the floor, huffing in pain, as she practically growls at Jane, who backs up and readies herself for another onslaught.

“Direct attacks won’t work,” Catherine says.

“You think I don’t know that?” Anne asks, right as she pulses forward again. This time, instead of straight on attack Jane, she uses the shadows to dissolve into cover…

… or at least, she thought she did, right before Jane plucks her out of the darkness and once again stabs her with a dagger that fades into shadows.

Anne yelps again, and this time, she falls to her knees. She holds her abdomen, coughing up blood, before she looks down at the wound. It’s festering with corrupted darkness.

And that gives her an idea.

“What else do you have?” Catherine asks, at the woman’s side as Anne shakily stands up. Anne seems to be focused, so Catherine steps aside. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t think you can take another one of those stabs.”

“Don’t worry,” Anne says. “I won’t need another chance.”

She pulses forward, straight on. Catherine’s heart drops; did Anne suddenly forget this was what she did at first?

Jane readies her dagger, and just as she thrusts it into Anne… it suddenly stops. It all stops. All the monsters, all the magicks Jane conjured. They all just… stop.

Catherine looks over to find that Anne’s eyes are not her own - they’re filled with darkness. At first, Catherine thought the girl had lost, that she was corrupted like Jane’s magicks, but when Anne suddenly thrust her hand into the sky and Jane immediately did the same thing, Catherine realized what was happening.

Of course, Catherine thought, feeling a little stupid for not realizing it before. She can control shadows!

Indeed, Anne was now controlling Jane’s movements, Jane’s actions, all of it. The darkness around them was no long being passive in the fight; Anne was forcing it to move with her, at her command, and Jane was powerless to stop it.

This, Catherine realized, was the true power of a Keeper of the Shadows. This was the potential of the Queen of Shadows.

Anne immediately pulses backwards, but Jane still can’t move. Anne lifts her hands - Jane doesn't follow this time, Anne’s holding her in place - and Anne suddenly has chains connected to Jane’s wrists. The end of the chains are in Anne’s hands, and she smirks as she suddenly slams them into the ground, making Jane fall as well. Keeping the chains in one hand, Anne uses her other one to command the shadows to clear out the monsters around them, wiping them into oblivion, before focusing back on the Jane in front of her.

With a final wince, Anne takes the energy that she could feel around the wound and harnesses it herself. Instead of it infecting her body, she now controlled it as she formed it into a spear and threw it back at Jane, cracking her heart and thrusting them all into pale moonlight that blinded the area for a second.

The corrupted dark gives way to pale moonlight, and that Jane is on her knees. She looks up and her eyes are her own. 

Anne’s blade pulses with the warm type of darkness that Anne is familiar with.

Anne looks down at the girl, and Jane looks up. She’s crying, eyes wide at the blade. She doesn’t say anything, however, as she bows her head.

“What is this?” Anne asks, but she keeps her gaze on Jane.

Catherine looks around. “Looks like the forests near the castle in the Capitol, honestly,” Catherine says. “I recognize this clearing. The bridge to the courtyard is only a few yards away.”

“And why is she giving herself over to me?” Anne asks, her hand tightening on her blade as her body stiffens.

Silence. Then, Catherine:

“I think you’ve a choice to make, Keeper of the Shadows.”

Anne continues her focus on the neck. She continues to remember. She continues to feel.

And she raises the blade and thrusts it down, hitting her mark. 

Instead of a scream, or a head rolling, the figure immediately bursts into darkness, fading into the darkness around it. There’s suddenly a stronger darkness - a Void of sorts - and Catherine and Anne are pulled into it. The darkness is suffocating for Catherine, whose light suddenly is snuffed out, but Anne seems to revel in it, like it’s a cool refreshing drink. 

When she opens her eyes again, however, she finds the Woman and Maggie standing over her.

Maggie smiles, but she’s clearly scared. “Annie?”

Anne takes a deep breath, then smiles. “I’m ok. We’re all ok.” She looks up at the Woman. “Was that satisfactory, my lady?”

“Just about what I expected,” the Woman replies. “But I think you’re ready regardless.”

Anne stands and, just as she goes to bow again, the Woman puts her hand on Anne’s heart and mind. Suddenly, Anne can feel a cool yet warm sensation coming from the hands that pressed against her, and her eyes faded into darkness for a moment before they returned to normal. She takes a deep breath and, suddenly, she feels more alive than ever.

When the Woman steps back, Anne instinctually puts a hand on her heart and head, just before she summons a shadow dagger in her hands.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Anne says. She then takes a deep breath and focuses on the energy; it forms into a darkened fireball of sorts, then a gauntlet, then an arrow. She smirks as she then puts the energy into her other hand, back into the dagger, and takes a step back into the shadows. She completely disappears then; not even Maggie could sense her.

She ends up behind the Woman, who doesn’t seem surprised to see her, but smiles. “I trust your new arsenal is to your satisfaction, my champion and my Keeper of Shadows?”

Anne’s eyes go wide at the title and she smiles widely, but she immediately shows respect, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Mistress.”

The Woman nods. “Pray you continue to do my will, though you are not bound to it. That’s not how I operate, unlike some others.”

That got Anne thinking. “Where did Catherine go?”

“The Blessed? She’s back in her body. She had some issues with a Fae, but I saved her.” The Woman smiles. “She helped my Champion in her trial, I saved her from being stolen away by the Fae. I consider us even - well, myself and her Goddess.”

Anne nods. “I’ll be sure to tell them to be careful moving forward. Thank you, my Mistress.” She looks back over at Maggie, who nods. “We need to go. The place where they are, it’s a Fae Lands. They’re going to need all the help they can get.”

Maggie nods. “After you.”

They rush off.

[fedorasaurus]

*soft gasp*

SixFiction’s cover of Monster (by Starset) is very good.

[pizzbiscuit]

[SFM] [FNaF] "Final Showdown" |Resistance| by Skillet (Cover by SixFiction)

[SFM] [FNaF] “Final Showdown” |Resistance| by Skillet (Cover by SixFiction)

[SFM] [FNaF] “Final Showdown” |Resistance| by Skillet (Cover by SixFiction) (more…)

[speccyspatula-blog]

SixFiction & Frankie Franck - J.S.S. @sixfiction hopefully the lyrics are right 😊

[fictionkinfessions]

Dear 6 from the Mandela Catalogue, I like your name -Six, Little Nightmares (fictive)

'

[fictionkinfessions]

I'm a fictive but for the kin ages thing, I would be 520 aha

-Anne Boleyn (Six) (#🦇🌹☕️)

[jane-fucking-seymour]

what are the queens dreaming about?

Catherine of Aragon is saving her daughter.

She sees the burnings, the screams of the innocent, everything her daughter is supposed to do. She sees Mary moving towards a dark, dark path. This time, however, Catherine is able to take her hand, to lead her into the light. She’ll enjoy this as best she can, knowing the horrors of reality will be the true wake up call the next morning.

Anne Boleyn is dreaming about Elizabeth.

She’s taken her girl to the park just down the street from the flat, enjoying the laughter she hears from her girl as she goes on the slide for her first time. She smiles a bit wider when she sees Mary and Edward and Mae join in. She forgets, just for the night, that she ever had that damned blade to her neck.

Jane Seymour is reading to her children.

Her dreams include Katherine now - they have since a year ago. She loves reading to them, giving them pointers on their work, reading the stories Katherine and Edward have been working on. Sometimes, the stories make as much sense as Edward being there. Other times, they’re her own work trying to sort itself out through her unconscious mind.

Anna of Cleves is on a hunt.

She’s back in Germany, back with her dogs, back to her “normal” life. She sees Katherine distracting her best hound, but that’s quite alright. Soon, Anna will recall the dogs and bring Katherine back to Anna’s own home, back to Germany, back to Anna’s family, a safe place beyond the hell that was England.

Katherine Howard is not dreaming at all.

It’s better than the alternative.

Catherine Parr is writing.

She’s not asleep, she’s very much awake. The thoughts and ideas and theories will not let her rest. She writes like she’s running out of time - or, more accurately, like she had ran out of time before, but was miraculously given an extension. She won’t make that mistake again.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

“She just needs some time, Anna-”

“She doesn’t have that much time, Jane. She needs help, this is the fifth one this week and it’s only Monday!”

Anna glared at the blonde with such strength that Jane had to look away, instead choosing to gaze at the girl asleep on the bed. Katherine was out like a light once again after the worst panic attack yet - the third one of the day. Jane tiredly ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out what had happened this time - one moment, Katherine was fine, talking about this new song she loved, then the next, she was on the floor, barely breathing and in some other world that neither Anna nor Jane could reach.

The road to recovery for Katherine had stalled about two months after she originally started therapy. She hadn’t found anyone she was willing to share everything with - for the most part, the therapists couldn’t relate to a 15th century teenager turned Queen. The final straw had been when one of the therapists had said he could help her, but then forcibly admitted her into a psychiatric hospital instead. He had said she was a “danger to society” with her “delusions of violence, including beheadings” and since no one was on Katherine’s medical records as a guardian or someone who could legally contest him, Katherine was in hospital for two days, until Anna could be put on as her emergency contact and authorized caretaker.

Katherine refused to see another therapist after that.

That was five months ago, and since then a few things have happened: one, she and Jane have become closer than ever, rivaling her relationship with Anna; and two, Katherine’s mental health was rapidly deteriorating.

Nothing the other queens tried prevented the attacks, nor the nightmares that plagued the youngest queen each night. They had begged the girl to reconsider therapy, but the scare from the last time was just too much for her to overcome. So she had suffered, and suffered often, with the trauma of the past life.

It took a toll on the others as well.

At first, Anne had tried helping Katherine, but it was soon discovered that Katherine’s panic attacks helped to trigger panic attacks of Anne herself. Having reported that to her own therapist, Anne had to come to the very difficult conclusion that, in order to save her own sanity, she wouldn’t be the main person to come to her cousin’s aide. Catherine and Cathy kept their distance, which wasn’t overly surprising since neither of them were very close to the girl in the past life. They were always there to assist, of course, but the main handling of Katherine was left to Jane and Anna.

Jane and Anna had two very different ways of helping Katherine. Anna took a more active approach, providing resources and trying to prevent the trauma from haunting her oldest friend, while Jane took a more reactive approach of cleaning up the chaos and helping Katherine with the aftermath. They both thought they were helping Kat and could live in relative harmony, despite constantly disapproving of each other’s actions.

“You’re only going to make it worse,” Jane chastised gently one night after Katherine had gone to bed.

“She needs to learn how to handle these things,” Anna presses. “She needs professional help, Jane. Some medicine, even. Something that can help her process what she went through-”

“We can handle this as a family,” Jane presses even more, shaking her head. “We don’t need some outsider trying to figure her out, asking her all these questions that they might not ever understand.”

“They can help,” Anna presses. “I know they can. Professionals are professionals for a reason, Jane.”

“And is that why the last one sent her to an asylum?” Jane snaps, narrowing her eyes. “They don’t understand us, Anna. They never will.”

“Anne’s had wonderful progress with her therapist,” Anna says. “If we can find one for her, we can find one for Katherine-”

“No,” Jane says, shaking her head. “She’ll be fine without one. They’ll never get it.”

Now, however, it felt like it had been Jane who misunderstood.

She looked back at Katherine resting, brow furrowed. She then returns her attention back to Anna, who looks as serious as she’s ever been in this new life.

That makes sense, Jane thinks, since Katherine’s life might literally be at stake here.

“I’m just saying,” Anna says. “We should ask her again. She’s already had the work week’s fill of panic attacks. They don’t seem to be stopping, it’s only getting worse.” She stands up. “I’m going to get some air. Do you want anything?”

“Some tea would be nice,” Jane admits, and Anna smiles shortly and nods, looking at Kat once more before walking out of the room. Jane, at first, watches where Anna just was, right up until she senses movement coming from the bed.

When she turns, Katherine is looking right at her.

“She’s right.”

“Kitty, hey,” Jane says, a gentle hand in Katherine’s as she smiles at the girl. “How’re you feeling?”

“Not good,” Kat admits. “And I haven’t been. For a while.”

Jane frowns at that, but Kat continues.

“I don’t wanna go to an asylum again,” Katherine starts. “But... I don’t want to live like this. Feels like I’ll end up in there again if this keeps up, I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Silence. Then, Kat again:

“I think... I think I want to try again.”

Jane tilts her head. “Really?”

Kat nods. “Yeah. To help you all, to help me... a lot of reasons. And maybe what Anna’s been saying is right, maybe there is someone out there that’ll help me.”

Jane’s gaze turns cold.

“These people don’t understand us, Katherine,” she says rather bitterly. “I doubt they ever will-”

Katherine interrupts. “But we won’t know that until we try, right?” 

Jane frowns. “I guess not.”

Another beat, but this time the silence is filled by Katherine sitting up in the bed, a hand to her head for a moment before she continues.

“I trust Anna more than anyone in this life,” she says quietly. “And if she thinks I can get help, if she thinks I can... move on, from before... I want to try.”

Jane looks the girl over carefully before she smiles and nods, taking her hand.

“Alright, love. When Anna comes back, let’s figure out what we want to do.”

A few things happened on that fateful day - one, Katherine finally restarted her journey to recovery; two, Jane and Anna grew closer; and three, Jane and Katherine’s family-esque relationship was born. 

A few weeks later, after countless interviews, Parr’s historian friend would find someone who was exactly what Katherine was looking for in a therapist. Though it would be long and hard, Katherine had finally started down the path to healing.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

All My Love, Catherine.

The start of regeneration! Part 1 of 5.

Cathy Parr was ready.

Well, as ready as she could ever be, given the circumstances. She had done this before, though, and that was at least a small comfort: she knew what to expect. She knew what was going to happen (or, at least, had a very general idea) and she could work with that. 

It was the fear of the unknown that would have sent her spiraling, but today, it’s just... calm. Peaceful, even.

She sits at her desk, finishing up one last writing, when she hears a disapproving, soft tone come from the doorway.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you spend today at your desk.”

Cathy doesn’t even need to look up to know she won’t win this argument.

Catherine Parr chuckles as she nods, saving her work for what feels like the final time before putting her laptop away.

“Just wanted to put in my last thoughts,” Cathy says quietly. “Just in case-”

“You’re coming back, Catherine,” Maria says, using the full name tactic to stress the importance of the statement. She’s been at her mistress’ side for the past few days, per Cathy’s request. “You always do. We always do. You’ll have plenty of time to write then.”

Cathy nods, but Catherine knows better.

“You think you won’t be able to?”

“I think I won’t be able to like this again,” Cathy explains, moving over to where the two were at her door. “We’re the same, but we change. Bit by bit, we always change when we regenerate.” 

“Well,” Catherine says, pulling her girl into herself as she wraps an arm around Cathy’s shoulders, “I don’t think you’ll be changing so much that you’ll forget how to write. It’s sort of your thing, babes.” 

Cathy chuckles at that, moving with the duo downstairs. She notices that the others aren’t there, which sends a quick burst of panic through her before Maria explains.

“They’re in their rooms, they haven’t gone yet,” Maria says softly. “They’ll be down in a few minutes. They just... wanted to have some alone time, that’s all.” 

“Kinda like what we’re doing, eh?” Cathy asks, which Maria nods. 

Silence. Cathy is in between Maria and Catherine, all of them on the couch, all of them as close as they can be.

Catherine always knows what to say to help Cathy, and this time isn’t different.

“This isn’t the end, you know,” Catherine says. “You’ll be back. You’ll be bringing Anne, which isn’t ideal,” she earns a chuckle from Parr at that before she continues, “but you, Anne and Katherine will be back. And we’ll celebrate and continue on like normal.”

“Like a new normal,” Cathy says gently. “A new sort of dynamic between all of us.” Cathy runs a hand through her hair. “Before, we all had to find our way back separately. I dunno how - or if this even works - but I’ve been... praying, that we’ll all end up in the same place when we come back. I don’t want them alone.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” Catherine says. “I’m sure Kitty will appreciate it, for sure. Anne would as well.”

More silence. Then, Cathy:

“I wrote something for you two.”

“Expected nothin’ less, to be honest,” Maria quips, earning quiet chuckles from the other two before Cathy continues. 

She takes out two envelopes. One is trimmed with gold, the other has drumsticks on it. They take their respective parchments with soft smiles.

“Don’t read it until I’m gone,” Cathy instructs. Then, to Catherine: “Yours has a few important things in it as well. Passwords to computers, different accounts, that sorta thing. I just... if something happens, then I want to be ready for it-”

“Nothing will happen, love,” Catherine says, pulling the girl into another hug. “Nothing will happen. You’ll go away for a bit, maybe take a nice nap for once wherever you go, and you’ll be back and we’ll be fine. It’ll all be okay.”

Cathy nods, but she pulls away.

“But, if it doesn’t, if something happens... I want you to be able to get to everything. You too, Maria,” she looks at the lady before looking back at Catherine. “I trust you two the most out of anyone. And I know you’ll look after it.”

Maria and Catherine look at each other before they look back at Cathy.

“We will,” Maria says gently. “I promise, you’ll be alright, but if you’re not... we’ll keep everything safe for you.”

“There’s a folder on my computer,” Cathy continues. “It’s got everything I’ve written in it. It’s free to share, to publish to-” she gets choked up, tears starting, “to send to anyone and everyone. I want to make noise, Catherine, I can’t disappear here, I can’t-!!”

Catalina pulls Catherine into a hug as she breaks down.

Catherine holds onto her like a lifeline, as if letting go would start the regeneration process automatically.

“I’m so scared, mum,” Cathy says through tears. She reaches to Maria and Maria takes her hand, the other hand on her back. “I hate this. I absolutely hate this.” 

“I know, love, I know,” Catherine says, but Parr continues.

“I’ll make sure Anne and Katherine are okay, but... I’ll miss this. I’ll miss both of you, I’ll miss being your goddaughter and-”

She’s interrupted when a gentle hand tips her chin up so she’s looking Catherine right in the eye.

“Catherine Parr, you listen to me right now.” Catherine says. “You’re not just suddenly being dropped as my goddaughter, you’re not going to change so completely that we don’t recognize you. You’ll be back, and we’ll pick up wherever we left off and go from there.” Catherine smiles at the girl before kissing her forehead, then pressing their foreheads together so Catherine is as close to her girl as she can be.

“You won’t fade away, you’ll come back, and we’ll celebrate. You’re my goddaughter, no matter what. Not even five million different regenerations can stop me from loving you.” 

Cathy breaks down harder after that, collapsing into her godmum and lady in waiting, soft whispers of comfort and hope and affection coming from the three. Maria and Catherine keep their eyes on Cathy, not daring to look at each other for fear of breaking down as well. 

There will be time for that later.

It takes a few minutes, but Cathy Parr has calmed down.

“... okay.” She says quietly, leaning back on the chair. She wipes the last of her tears. “Alright. I... okay.”

Maria and Catherine nod, before Cathy stands up.

“We should get Anne,” Cathy says. “I’m sure Katherine and Jane need some extra time, considering it’s her first time. 

Catherine and Maria nods, standing up as well.

“We’ll do this together,” Catherine promises. “Just like always.”

Cathy smiles and nods, taking Catherine and Maria’s hands. 

“Always.”

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Turning Into A Monster, Eating Us Alive II Part 1

Because @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts kept on taunting me.

“Katherine Howard, you open this door right now!”

That was exactly what Jane Seymour said as she slammed her hands against the glass. Anne Boleyn was already down for the count, unconscious, while Catherine Parr struggled for air.

Katherine should be caring - she should be panicked, even, trying to save her family.

As she held onto the trinket in her pocket, however, she found herself unable to.

Jane’s eyes go wide with the realization. “Katherine. Please. Whatever-“ she starts, but she’s coughing now, too, harder than Parr. “Whatever it is, we can deal with it. Please, Kat! Help us-!”

Katherine, however, suddenly lunges forward, pressed against the glass as she speaks.

“They say she always loved this part,” she says, her voice barely loud enough for Jane to hear. “The lights. The flames. The screams.” She smiles, but it’s more like a snarl. “It’s all so wonderful, isn’t it, Mum? The way things have worked out... it’s marvelous.”

“Katherine-“ Jane starts, but Katherine slams her hand against the glass.

“Katherine’s not here, you dumb girl!”

It’s then that Katherine looks a bit scared, a bit terrified. It breaks through her manic grin.

"I’m not coming back. I can’t. It’s too late now.”

Jane sinks to the floor next to the unconscious Boleyn.

As Katherine turned to leave, she simply took out the deck of cards from her pocket and flung the special card towards the three queens.

It floated for a minute before it feathered down: the queen of hearts, slowly but surely burning from the heat of the fire that raged on behind her, leaning three of the five most important people in her life for dead.

It started when Katherine returned from a five interview day.

To say it was rough was an understatement: the girl had started in good enough spirits, with Jane making sure she got enough sleep the day before and making her a good breakfast in the hopes of keeping her energy up during the long day ahead of her, but as Jane continued to text her girl she noted the tiredness that was beginning to show for Kat: first, it was a simple typo, then it was gibberish in texts, and finally, as Jane noted with a soft smile as she was on the phone with her daughter, it was the slow but sure falling asleep while heading home.

“How are you feeling, love?” Jane asks kindly, patiently.

“‘M fine,” Kat had mumbled, though her voice was filled with sleep. “I’m in the back of the limo. Got about two hours or so until I’m home.”

“Have you eaten anything?” Jane asks.

There’s silence.

“Kitty?”

“Hmm? What?” Kat asks, as if startled.

Jane frowns. “I asked if you ate anything.”

Katherine seems confused. “What would I be late for?”

It takes a moment for Jane to realize that Kat’s misheard her, but then she chuckles. “No, love, not late, I said ate. I asked if you had any food.”

“Mum made me breakfast,” Kat says.

It makes Jane pause, frowning; was Kat really that out of it?

“I know, Kitty-“ Jane starts, but Kat continues.

“Mum’s great,” she says with a yawn. “I love her.”

Jane can’t help but aw at that. “I love you too, sweetheart. But I’m your mum. You’re talking to me about me.”

A beat.

“What?”

“It’s Jane, Katherine.”

“Oh.”

Jane’s heart breaks for the girl; she’s so out of it at the moment. Interviews took a lot out of them, and none of the other queens had done more than three a day; Katherine did five, each at least an hour, one of which was three hours total.

She made a note to ensure that didn’t happen ever again, not when it made Katherine like this.

At least, she hoped it was just because of the interview.

“I found some cards.”

Jane tilts her head at the random statement. “Oh? Playing cards?”

“Yeah. They’re from the 15th century,” Kat says. “They’re from our home.”

“You’ll have to show me tomorrow, then,” Jane says with a smile. “I wasn’t a big card player, but I think the other Catherine’s can teach you a thing or two.”

“Mhmm.”

Jane frowns. “How much longer?”

“Two hours.”

“Could get some sleep then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. How about you do that, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Kitty-Kat.”

“I love you, Mum.”

Jane doesn’t hang up, though; not yet, anyways. She waits until she hears the soft, rhythmic breathing from her daughter, then waits a few minutes more, then stays on the line, on mute, to ensure Katherine was still resting.

Sure enough, two hours later, Katherine arrives.

She’s dead to the world as she stumbles in, the driver bringing her bags. Jane and Anna are there, with Anna quick to check Kat over as Jane helps with the bags. Anna frowns as Kat latches onto her, mumbling about something or other.

“I don’t think any of us have been so out of it after an interview day, Jane,” Anna says as she leads Kat upstairs. “Are you sure it’s just that?”

“Should be,” Jane says with a shrug. “If we get her upstairs, we can get her some rest. If it’s something more, we’ll deal with that when she’s better rested.”

Anna tucks Kat into bed - Jane’s bed, specifically - and moves back to her room. Jane smiles when Kat whines, staring at her pitifully from her place on the bed. As soon as Seymour moves into her reach, Katherine grabs her and pulls her close.

“Love you,” Kat mumbles.

“I love you too, Kat,” Jane replies gently, playing with Kat’s hair.

Silence. Then, after a moment:

“We’ll regret this. They’ve already won, haven’t they?”

Jane blinks. “Regret what?”

But Katherine is already asleep.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

22. “You’re allowed to be human, Parr.”

Catherine Parr working was as common as someone else breathing.

The girl often worked herself to exhaustion thanks to her constant writing and editing in between shows. While Parr was healthy, this wasn’t a huge deal, and although the others would scowl disapprovingly, Parr still was able to get all her work done, do the shows, and hang out enough with the other queens that no one could really challenge her on her questionable schedule.

Today, however, Catherine Parr was not well.

She had gotten a cold from somewhere, only intensified by her weakened immune system thanks to lack of sleep.

She woke up that morning and, with a nasty cough, forced herself to continue her usual workload, but was all but dead by the time she stumbled into the theater. The others had gone on without her; not unusual for Parr, but was was was her being late to call.

If she could just get into her room and avoid-

“Lady Catherine Parr, where have you been?”

- Aragon. Shit.

Parr freezes, a bit scared to turn around and face her godmother, but then coughs overtake her and she has to crouch thanks to weak knees.

She’s not sure when Aragon moved from across the hall to right at her side, but at the moment she doesn’t care.

“You’re burning up, love.”

Parr wants to contest that, wants to say she’s fine... but she can’t. She’s still coughing.

Parr feels someone picking her up and she’s assuming they’re headed to the dressing room; good, she thought, now she could get ready for the show-

- wait. This isn’t her dressing room.

Whoever is holding her has now gently placed her on the couch in the dressing room. Parr wants to open her eyes, but there’s a warm compress on her head - which now hurts, by the way - and she just can’t do it.

She hears people talking - Aragon definitely, Jane maybe - and she feels someone put a blanket over her body. She does try one last time to move, to get up, but someone’s right next to her, mumbling soft words and gently smoothing out her hair. Parr smiles softly at that, relaxing into the couch.

What feels like moments later, though, Parr realizes that she needs to get dressed; she’s still in street clothes.

Catherine groans and tries her hardest to move.

“I gotta get ready-” Parr mumbles to no one, but a gentle hand on her shoulder stops her from doing that.

“The show’s already done, Cathy,” Aragon says gently. The shock of that makes Parr open her eyes and, sure enough, Aragon is back in normal clothing, makeup off. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” 

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Parr mumbles, sitting up slowly now. She puts her head in her hands. “I just... I wanted to not bother anyone. I needed to get edits done, the show had to go on, Kitty wanted me to go with her to that exhibit tonight and-”

“You’re allowed to be human, Parr. You know that, right?”

Parr doesn’t answer. Aragon chuckles.

“Alright. Well. You’re grounded.”

Parr raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not Katherine and you’re not Jane.”

“But you’re my daughter and I’m your mum. So I can do that. Not only that, but I can get everyone else to go along with it.”

Parr scowls. “Mean.”

“Only out of love.”

Parr’s not sure when she closed her eyes again, but when she opens them, she’s leaning against Jane as they drive home. Jane gently shushes Parr when she makes a noise of displeasure, gently lulling her back to sleep.

The next time Parr returns to the waking world, she’s curled up in bed.

Parr huffs, moving to get up, only for the door to open immediately afterwards.

“Nope.”

Parr groans, but flops back down.

“Nice try, my love. But you’re not going anywhere.” 

Aragon looks Parr over, checking a few things before getting her some cough medicine and laying Parr back down.

“Call if you need me, love,” Aragon says, smiling at her.

Parr, with a sigh, leans against the pillows. In her half-asleep state, Parr mumbles it out:

“Thanks, mum.”

Aragon blinks, looking over at Parr, but she’s already asleep.

[jane-fucking-seymour]

Does Pax help with nightmares?

Pax awoke without quite knowing why.

He looked around the room, eyes scanning the area until they fell onto his Queen. His tail wagged a bit as he watched her for a moment, his training kicking in.

Katherine twitched.

His tail stopped wagging.

He got up, ears at alert, and padded over to the bedside. Quickly moving to his hind legs, he put his front ones into the bed and watched a bit closer.

Her chest was going faster.

Her eyes were squeezed shut.

She was saying things that weren’t any words he recognized, so they weren’t commands.

His training kicked in again.

He jumps up onto the bed and instantly moves to curl up against her, nose lifting one of Kat’s arms so she could hold him while still asleep. He nuzzled against her shoulder and his tail wagged when Kat gently pulled him closer. It had taken the longest for him to get used to his Queen pulling him closer so suddenly, but that hard work had paid off.

He whines when she makes another noise, another fuss, licking her cheek.

She settles back down.

Her chest stops moving so quickly.

Her eyes relaxed.

He did his job.

Lax closed his eyes, tail lazily wagging as he fell back asleep.

When Katherine Howard awoke the next day, she’d be incredibly refreshed and only half an inch away from her dog’s nose. The dog had been watching her as she slept, tail now wagging when he realizes that she’s awake.

“Did you help me last night, Paxy?” Kat asks, scratching behind her ear. “I could have sworn I was going to have a nightmare, but... I think you stopped it.” She chuckles. “Or at least, there was a dog in the dream that chased the bad guys away. I thought it was you.”

Pax just licks her cheek, tail wagging even more when she kisses his snout.

“Good boy, Pax. Extra cuddles today.”