#yazi writes a shitty thing

[secondbutthole]

Another Light

 She felt groggy when she woke up. Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth and as she shifted in her bedsheets to face the wall, she could only pick up her phone to do some scrolling on some social media she barely cared for these days.

It had only been two months since she had been reincarnated and lived with the other queens that lived in her house. Her past and current life mixing and blending uncomfortably into a blob that she had to try and parse through. To try and separate the things that happened then to the things that have happened now.

And it wasn’t like it was a beheading, a long sleep, and then the dull numbness that she imagined would have come with reincarnation either- it was the sharp edge of the axe followed immediately by… Well, she didn’t know. Katherine couldn’t remember her current life memories up until the age she was beheaded. Was she technically a zombie like those movies that her and Anne watched but more human somehow?

She didn’t bother sparing it another thought.

Besides, that was two months ago, and this was now. The bitter sting of memories that stayed in the edges of her mind slowly faded into a pleasant lull and she went downstairs to grab some breakfast.

Katherine had a lot of hope for this second chance of life. She didn’t have the shadow of her father looming down on her, or the pressures of being at the height of society of any of that. No, she could just be that nineteen-year-old girl with a passion for music and history and that was who she intended to be.

“Morning, Kit,” Catalina greeted with a small smile, flicking the switch on the kettle and taking a seat in one of the many chairs in the kitchen-dinning room. “You sleep alright?”

Katherine just bobbed her head tiredly, still not fully awake but she was happier than she was when she woke up at least. Lina usually woke up early to do her morning prayers and that was when she’d come downstairs to make a cup of tea and watch the morning news. The youngest of the two (of the six, really) must have just caught her when she was just finished. How nice.

“I did, yeah.” She finally responded. “Could I have a coffee please, Lina?”

“’Course,” The Spaniard responded, grabbing two mugs and filling them up with the sugar, coffee and tea bag respectively and a splash of milk in Katherine’s.

While this quiet, domestic goings on was happening, the pink-tipped queen couldn’t help but watch the other carefully, studying her almost. How did she handle the reincarnation? What was it like for her? She knew of the first queen’s struggles, she knew all of the queens struggles because of the musical they wrote and performed in, and she couldn’t help but feel….

“Here you are, mija,” Catalina hummed, placing it down in front of her before taking a sip from her tea. Classic Earl Grey with one sugar in. “You want to watch something with me? It—doesn’t have to be the news.” She almost seemed sheepish, it wasn’t all too often the two could hang out and she wanted to make the most of her time with Katherine before the others woke up.

Guilt flooded Katherine’s stomach as she took a sip, barely able to believe that she could resent her, the others, even just a little with how well they’ve adapted to life so far. “Of course,” She managed out, standing up to move with the taller woman into the sitting room. A compromise was made where they just watched a breakfast show instead, a mix of news and entertainment, and as the morning went on and more queens joined them, it was easy for those conflicting emotions inside of Katherine to calm down and be boxed neatly away.

She could unpack it later.

[secondbutthole]

Another Light || I’m So Happy

It was show day and Katherine knew she had to face the queens. It was just the same routine, wake up and shower, have breakfast, watch Annie pull a prank of some sort, watch Catalina sigh exasperatedly. Then it was do whatever until lunch, drive to the theatre for prep and sound and makeup and then go on stage. 

Maybe it was because of the state of mind she was in, singing backup to the other queens and listening to the dialogue, but the whole joking about everyone’s trauma, making light of it all seemed… awful. Of course, that was the climax of the show, to talk about how messed up it all was and then it was the reveal, but the thought of the queens joking about their issues like it didn’t matter made Katherine lose just a bit of energy. Not enough to halt the show but, surely, enough to notice.

It was time for her solo. The roast didn’t have much of the heat it usually did, even if she did her best to keep it all together and playful. And then the song started, the bass reverberating through her chest and it was like she just. Dissociated. Just like it was the same old song, same old motion, and the music and her lyrics and the lights were just overwhelming her. Much like a performing monkey, she kept her quips funny between the verses, she sang and riffed and danced. She did what was required of her and, God, did she feel sick.

The final verse began, about Thomas Culpepper, and she already began to cry just before she was meant to. The most important thing about stage acting is you aren’t meant to cry, it clogs up your vocal chords with mucus and her sniffling was coming clear through the microphone and it was humiliating. Why was she the one suffering? The saddest song in the show was Heart of Stone and yet Jane Seymour could keep it together! Why couldn’t she?

The song ended with a choked sob, which really wasn’t all too different to the gasp it usually ended on, there was a pause as she tried to recollect herself, a swing in the wings unsure if she was meant to come on and lead Katherine away so she could finish the show for her, but then the fifth queen cleared her throat and smiled. And the show continued.

Jane had tried to approach her in the dressing rooms as Katherine tried to clean her face up and put her costume away. She was so concerned, so afraid for the other woman, but before she could call her name, she was hit with an “I’m fine, honestly.” From the fifth queen and that was that.

She didn’t need them to know exactly what she was struggling with. She was happy for them that they were fine, really.

[secondbutthole]

Association

They all had their traits boiled down to one word, like they knew them personally; Religious, Promiscuous, Obedient, Ugly, Slutty, Survivor. And, frankly, Katherine Howard was tired of it. She was exhausted at the narrative that history decided that she had, exhausted of what scholars and historians decided she was- as if they had sat down and had PG Tips with her every day from the day she lived to the day she died. 

It was like no one knew of Catherine’s playfulness that rivalled that of Anne’s, or just how clever Anne was. No one stopped by to see Jane bickering with the others about this and that with no real heat behind her words, no one saw Anna keep cool no matter what happened. No one stopped to ask Kitty of her interests and passions in music and history, and no one ever knew about Cathy’s over-abundance of romance novels that lined her shelves- no one cared because they were once just the wives of Henry the 8th and were disposable.

By everyone and by history.

Catherine had walked in and saw her in a state one day. The other queens were out doing their little things for the day but Katherine had decided to stay home. Everyone else was well aware of her depressive spirals and her anxiety that came with the trauma in her past, and everyone helped in their own way, but they didn’t think much of it when their beloved Kitty didn’t want to go for a walk or nip into Morrisons for a cheeky takeaway pasta- every now and again, a queen just didn’t want to leave their house.

“Oh, Kitty,” Catherine tutted gently as she sat down next to the youngest, a small smile on her face and her arms opened for a hug which Katherine fell into quickly. “C’mon now, what’s the matter...?”

“Why are we only ever seen as-as... S-Stereotypes? Who gives Them the right to say we’re this and we’re that when it’s not who we are?” She sniffed, hiding into her shoulder as her body shook with the effort to not sob. “I’m not a s-slut, Catherine, ‘m not. I... I didn’t love-love those men, but everyone is adamant that I-I do.”

Catherine’s gaze wandered to the TV briefly where some documentary on youtube was paused, one that- no doubt- triggered the youngest. She sighed and ran her fingers down the other’s ponytail gently, detangling any knots that could have formed. “I don’t know, Kitty,” She answered truthfully, “But it doesn’t matter now, okay? None of it matters. We know you aren’t.”

Katherine knew that. She knows that none of the queens in the house see each other as history does, but it always leaves a bitter taste in Katherine’s mouth. Still, she relaxed under the eldest one’s hold and allowed her breathe to slow. 

“Thank you.”

[secondbutthole]

Lost in History

Katherine loved history. She loved every era; pre-history, medieval, Tudor (though she wondered if it was worth really researching since she lived through it, but she does and it delights her to find new nuggets of information), Stuart, etc. She had books upon books, pages saved on her browser on both her phone and her laptop, she collected as many antique things as she could fit in her little room- it was just something she enjoyed. 

It meant even more to her when she could enjoy history with one of her favourite people in the house (which wasn’t saying a lot when all five of the other queens were also her favourite), Anne.

“They used to use arsenic in their clothing, Anne.” Kitty sighed as she paused the documentary they were watching. Secret Killers of the Victorian Home. It was a little series documenting the domestic life of people throughout history and how they died. And truly, wearing arsenic, was probably the most stupid thing the youngest queen had ever heard of.

“Yeesh,” Anne winced, leaning against her cousin with her dressing gown draped over both of their laps as she nibbled on a small quaver. “And I thought the way we had to get ready was stupid as it was. Hard to think this wasn’t that long ago, eh?”

Katherine laughed a little at that and, quickly, stole a crisp from the bag the elder queen had with a grin when Anne made a little sound of protest. “More some things change...”

[secondbutthole]

Another Light | Settle for Less

Katherine was bitter. There, she admitted it.

She hated herself for it too. All things considered; things were going great. She was in a successful musical about their lives, she was surprisingly close to the other queens, things were going incredibly well for her. Except for the stupid nightmares that seemed to plague her every night.

Hands grasping and groping; the voices of men saying her name in different and eerie tones, a horrific reminder of her past. And then the axe swinging down to her neck. Katherine was exhausted, hated waking up every night to silent tears or to the concerned stares of the other queens when she would scream. It was humiliating because everyone else seemed to be coping so well. Why couldn’t she?

Okay, backtrack, Anne wasn’t quite coping as well as the other queens admittedly. Though she never screamed at night, she was also plagued by nightmares but the difference between the cousins was that Anne actually was able to talk about it. Katherine wasn’t strong enough to do that. Or, rather, she didn’t want to burden the other queens by talking about her past trauma. She’d been watching a lot of TV lately, as well as a lot of documentaries about the ‘Six Wives of Henry The Eighth’ and, well, it just filled her up with shame. Like her struggles either didn’t count and matter because she wanted it (which she did, right?) or it was too taboo to talk about.

Katherine was struggling. She was exhausted. She was worthless. She didn’t even deserve to be brought back with the others, but if she had said that out loud then the queens would admit that she didn’t deserve the entire debacle that went on in her life. So, either way, these were thoughts she had to struggle with on her own.

When she went downstairs, Anne was the first person she saw. Turns out everyone had went out to the city centre for the day and because Katherine had slept late and Anne wanted to catch up on Rupaul’s Drag Race, they had left without any thought like ‘hey, maybe we’ll wait for Kitty and make sure she’s okay!’

“You okay, Kitty?” Anne had asked with a small smile which was so unlike her. The fact that Katheirne had a bad night must have been obvious on her face, and so the younger queen had to quickly throw on a smile- faked as it may have ended up being.

“Of course I am!” She was an actor, Anne should have been so easy to convince. Anne mustn’t have twigged on that something really was wrong, much to her absolute relief.

“You wanna watch season 5 then? I reckon Alyssa Edwards is gonna win,” She chattered, already turning on Netflix and not waiting for an answer. Katherine would have said yes anyway, but she was just… so tired.

“I didn’t even answer, Anne.”

“Huh?” Anne turned towards her with a raised brow, a small head tilt to the side. “What do you mean? We… We usually watch it, so I thought…?”

Katherine usually sorted her head into boxes. Her trauma box, her nightmare box, depression and anxiety- all the things thought unsavoury tucked away neatly in a small shelf in the corner of her brain. She liked that arrangement, it meant she could present the best parts of herself and be the good student Mannox wanted—the good secretary Dereham wanted—the good queen Henry wanted—the good friend Thomas—

The boxes got too heavy on one side of the shelf and they all tumbled over. They crashed on the floor in a deafening roar and as for Katherine? Well, she couldn’t help herself.

“Of course you thought! No one thinks about me, Anne!” Katherine’s fists clenched, small crescent moons pressed into the flesh of her palms. Her nostrils flared, mind overwhelmed because a meltdown was not exactly marked in on the calendar or written in her to do list, yet here she was.

“What? Kitty, what are you talking about, of course we do! We worry about you all the time!” Anne had tried to reason, she loved her cousin to the moon and back, but she couldn’t help but be on the defensive. She couldn’t understand what had gotten into the youngest queen, and all this for what- a show that they watched on Netflix?

She knew she was being irrational. “I don’t need your fucking worry!” She knew she wasn’t quite in control and it terrified her. “You know what, Anne? Fuck you.” She didn’t want to cry in front of her, and even though the fight wasn’t as big as it could have been, she stalked to the door and squeezed into her trainers.

“Where are you going, Kit?” If there wasn’t any condescension laced in her words, it didn’t matter to the brunette who found it and whipped around to face the panic-stricken face of her predecessor

“Out.” She spat out. “Away from you, you… Y-you…” Katherine’s face crumpled at the stammer, her mind seemingly blanking from coming up with a good retort before, finally—

“I hate that it was a fucking sword!”

And she was gone, leaving Anne completely heartbroken and bewildered. The fact she even alluded to her execution was a low blow and Katherine, who was powerwalking down the street to God knows where with tears staining her cheeks, knew that. She just needed Anne to feel the hurt that she was. To ensure that she wasn’t the only one that was suffering and struggling to cope.

It wasn’t until dark fell down on London that Katherine Howard came home. All the queens were crowded around Anne, placing a placating hand on her shoulder and as soon as they heard the door, they stared at her and Katherine could only stare back, unsure and terrified.

“Katherine Howard,” Came Jane’s gentle voice, stern but still cautious. “Why would you say something like that to Anne? She just wanted to spend time with you.”

Katherine only sniffed in response, her eyes watering slightly when Anne looked up with her red-rimmed eyes and her lip wobbling in an attempt not to cry again. She was an absolute monster. Disgusting.

“Howard,” Came Catalina’s approach, not at all gentle like Jane’s and more authoritative as the head of the household. She watched carefully as she flinched, swallowing and stepping a little bit closer to the seemingly unstable queen. “Please. Just apologise to her and talk to us. Where did you go? We were worried sick.”

And that was when she ran upstairs. Catalina looked at the other queens with a forlorn expression, her mouth dry as she sat uselessly on the chair beside her. The door slammed and the queens were left in an uncomfortable silence with no way to know how to proceed.

[secondbutthole]

Reprise

TW: this is the aftermath of the above quotes, starting just after the attack. Please proceed with caution.

--

Katherine was stupid. She was so, so stupid and she hated the fact that she got herself into this mess.

“Look at me,” Mannox sneered, looking down at the shivering girl by his feet and taking great pleasure in the soft groans that left her lips from the pain she was in. The men- Henry, Francis and Thomas- had finished with her; used her just one last time because chances of meeting again like this was so slim. That’s what the girl was telling herself.

Still, she didn’t dare look at the old music teacher.

“He said to look, Lady Katherine.” Thomas sneered, and all Katherine could do was let out a pained gasp as her head was yanked back. It burned her scalp, her eyes stinging and blurring with tears she couldn’t control at all.

Francis huffed at the entrance to the small alleyway between some pub and the kebab shop that the girl was in just before. “Can you guys hurry it up?” He seemed impatient, obviously a little freaked out at the idea of being caught.

Clicking his tongue, Mannox could only grin and crouch down to be at her level. Placing a palm rather gently on her cheek, noting the way she flinched back rather violently at the action, he smirked and gave it a light slap. “Just remember who you truly belong to,” He drawled. “Those queens your living with? They’ll kick you out soon enough. And Katherine, just know, we’ll be waiting.”

Without warning, the grip on her rather loosened ponytail vanished causing her to fall forward and into the ground with a grunt, and she stayed as silent as she dared as she heard the footsteps get quieter and quieter and quieter until all she could hear was the ambiance of London street.

Katherine pushed herself up with a quiet cry, nails, broken from trying to fight off the men, digging into the ground to give her something to focus on rather than the ache down by her thighs. She breathed in deep a few times to keep grounded before grabbing her phone that had fallen from her jacket. She pressed the button to check her notifications and cringed at the time.

Half ten. She’d left at eight. She looked blankly at all of the Whatsapp messages from their shared group chat as well as individual messages and all the missed calls from all of the queens and it made her heart break a bit in her chest. On shaky legs, breathing deeply to try and cope with the pain on her back, between her thighs, her chest- everywhere- she picked up the bag of cold food that got her into the mess to begin with and began to walk down the street towards home.

It must have taken her, what? Ten more minutes than usual? Before she finally got there. She flinched every time someone went passed her, or when she felt a breeze from a passing car, of even when she had to stop at a crossing. But she was finally home, in front of a detached house in a pretty decent street, actually, and she placed her hand on the handle of the door and…

Paused.

She didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want to face everyone, not when she had barely started to calm down. But now that she was here and knowing there was going to be five women in there who were going to be so disappointed in her. Katherine stood there for what felt like an eternity but, in reality, was only four minutes before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

She was overwhelmed quickly by the voices that surrounded her. The queens all surrounded her, and they just kept talking. They just wouldn’t stop.

“Katherine Howard-Seymour,” Jane’s voice broke, “Where in the world were you?!”

The rest of the women fell silent as they waited for an answer. When none came, it was Aragon’s turn to talk next, a deep frown set on her face. “Did you not know how worried we were?”

And it just kept coming and coming; “We were about to call the police-” “I can’t lose my baby cousin--“

And then she started crying, legs buckling from under her and the bag swiftly forgotten on the floor as she sobbed and screamed incoherently. Parr reached out for her with a soft “Kath,” and seemed to jump a mile out of her skin when the brunette frantically tried to slap the hand away. It was such a weak and panicked attempt of getting the other woman to back off.

“Ss-stay away,” She whimpered, hugging herself close as she shuddered. It was like they were crowding her again, throwing her on the floor—Katherine let out a started sob, unable to shake the images from her mind as she curled up on the carpet.

“Shh, Kitty,” Anne was the next to sit down, just in front of her cousin, and all she could think to do was offer her hand. It took Katherine a few minutes, but she took it and she squeezed as tightly as she dared. Progess.

“A…. Annie….”

“What happened, Kit-Kat?” Anne asked, voice soft and low. Next to Jane, she was one of the only people that Katherine let in properly, and because they were cousins, they often helped each other through panic attacks. Anne might be boisterous, but she knew how to calm down when it came to her family.

“Mannox,” Came her strained reply, and she lurched forward to hide into Anne’s shoulder with a shaky sob. “A-and Dereham, and Cul—C-Culpepper.”

A heavy silence washed over the group, anger rising in different levels. Cleves looked like she was ready for blood and Parr was raring to do something. Anything.

“Oh, Kitty,” Jane whispered.

It hadn’t occurred to them that many of the people in their past life could have been reincarnated too.

Anne’s hold tightened a bit before the other beheaded queen turned back. She locked eyes with Parr, and with a sigh, she mumbled. “Call the police, will you?”

This was going to be a long next few months, and all the progress Katherine had made in terms of going out on her own or even speaking to male fans had been destroyed. And all for what?

Aragon moved off into the kitchen to make tea. Jane hovered over the cousins as Parr sat on the stairs waiting for the receptionist to pick up. Cleves couldn’t even be in the same room, only one breath away from leaving the house to find them and ensure they wouldn’t be reincarnated again.

“Please don’t let th-them find me again,” Katherine’s voice sounded so wrecked, so tired and it made Jane sit down and hug the two beheaded cousins tight.

“We won’t.”

[secondbutthole]

HEY UHH IF YOURE STILL DOING PROMPTS CAN I UHHH ORDER KITTY HAVING A PANIC ATTACK ONSTAGE

It was pretty well known that Katherine often zoned out during her solo. Up from when she said the first ‘connection’, to the last sob after her final “only thing you want to do”. They were mild at best easily able to snap out of it as soon as she had a line to speak and then the show would go on. But sometimes, when she didn’t have enough sleep or something happened that caused her anxiety to go up before the show, it never really went as planned.

The slip began when she sang about Henry, her words taking on a slightly desperate edge as the choreography continued. The bass pounded under her skin, the lights kept blinding her momentarily and her movements almost felt clumsy. But it wasn’t until she began to sing of Culpeper that her voice faltered slightly.

The music continued as she stayed quiet, for just a moment, before she tried to shrug off the other queen’s as per the routine and continue singing, catching up with the ladies in waiting, but there was a hand and it slipped and all of a sudden she was in the music room; in the office; in her bed chamber with Mannox’s– Dereham’s– Culpeper’s eyes–

She shoved the hand off her causing the man– the queen– to groan and it caused her to fall on her knees in shock. Body, still on autopilot, grasped the mic with shaky hands. “All you wanna do, all you wanna do, babe, is.” She wasn’t even singing anymore, just wheezing into the microphone with laboured breath, like her lungs were a machine.

But her throat burned. The tears stung her eyes and the lights weren’t helping. She could hear the concerned murmurings of the crowd, the mechanism of the curtains closing and the queens crowding around her, and then…

[secondbutthole]

Reiterate | Ch 1

The sequel y’all have been wanting for Reprise (make sure you read that one first).This fic takes place almost immediately after Reprise, so please keep in mind that there will be themes of recovering from rape involved. Do read with care. Feel free to reblog and leave a comment and stuff! Thank you.

--

The month was long for the queens, but it was longest for Katherine. If it wasn’t for the nightmares that seemed to increase tenfold after the events, it was the guilt of being kept off the show. If it wasn’t the invasive hospital visits (and she gets it, they need to ensure she isn’t pregnant and doesn’t have STDs and that she wasn’t too damaged), it was the therapy she could hardly make herself speak at.

Once the month had passed and the police statements were given, it was just a case of living. Each of the queens noticed that she distanced herself from them all and it hurt them all in different ways. She hardly joined Anne in her schemes anymore; didn’t read with Parr or spend as much time with Jane. She didn’t help Aragon cook and cuddle up to watch TV and she hardly wanted to ever go out with Cleves. They understood it, of course, understood that their Katherine was lost in the haze and the fog of trauma, but it still hurt them.

It was hard. For everyone. And it was especially hardest for Katherine who hardly felt like herself anymore.

“Hey, kid,” Parr approached her with a small smile, a cup of tea held in a steady hand and a small book tucked under her arm. Katherine looked up at her and could only really offer a small, tired smile. Poor woman could barely sleep for very long. She gave the brunette the cup and sat next to her on the sofa, lifting her arm up as an offering and she sighed when Katherine curled up. She noted that she still shook, but a cuddle was progress. “I was wondering if you wanted to read for a little while? Like we used to?”

Katherine gave a small hum before nodding, a small smile playing on her lips as she sipped at the warm liquid in the cup; Chamomile, one of her favourite teas. “What have you got?” She asked softly, missing this sense of normalcy. She straightened a bit, still leaning against the older woman, to look at the book she began to open.

“It’s been a… rough time recently,” Parr began with a hum, “So I thought Winnie the Pooh would be nice to read?” She flushed a little, thumbing through the introduction and into the first chapter. “It’s one of my comfort books. Nothing wrong with something light and easy to digest when you don’t feel amazing, right?”

The youngest nodded, taking another little drink and getting herself comfortable. They’d sat there for an hour, just reading, before Parr suddenly closed the book. Glancing at the time, she smiled softly and played with Katherine’s hair. “You feel like performing tonight?” She asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. “It’s been a while and the fans miss you. Get your mind off it-“ Somewhat- “and you don’t have to come out with us after for drinks. I think Aragon mentioned coming home after the show so maybe you and her can relax?”

She thought about it for a moment, considering it for a moment before nodding. She missed singing and dancing, she missed being able to vent through her solo, but she missed being with the Spanish queen too. Katherine managed to have a good relationship with all of them, and they were so behind on RuPaul’s Drag Race, so maybe it would be good for her. “Yeah,” She said slowly, “I think I’d like that.”

As it turns out, Katherine didn’t like it at all. The performance drained her way more than usual, and while she was fine during the first couple of songs, it was only until midway through Get Down that her anxiety grew and grew. The last thing she wanted to do was sing about those men, be touched in the choreography, sing about the realisation that had hit her once again just so recently. She’d given her best performance that night, sobbing out the lyrics and crumping up at the end, on her knees and shaking on the stage floor. The other queens felt awkward, unsure of if they should step in, guilty that they might have pushed her too far, but Katherine just had to grit her teeth.

“And then I was beheaded!” And the show continued.

Through the rest of it, her energy was a lot lower than the other queens. She seemed more dazed, more sluggish in delivering her lines, but the audience probably didn’t notice.

The curtain call couldn’t end fast enough and once stage door was done (she was kept between Anne and Anna for safety), she had her bag ready and on her shoulder and she was just eager to get in the taxi with Aragon like agreed. After saying their goodbyes and their “be safe”s, they got inside the taxi and off they went.

“You did amazing tonight,” Aragon praised with a small grin, glancing out the window every now and then with the fiver already in her hand. “You hit those high notes gorgeously and that was even without being at the rehearsals! Fantastic job, Kitty.”

Katherine could only smile, rubbing at her eye with a small hum. “You did fantastic too, your comedic timing was everything and the crowds ate you up!” She was always so proud of the queens and despite her little breakdown mid-show, she really was glad she could perform today.

“So, who do you think should leave the werk-room today?”

“… Definitely Aja.”

They’d gotten up to Nina’s elimination before the door knocked. Catherine swore as she paused the tv, pressing a kiss to Katherine’s forehead before getting up to answer the door. “Two seconds, Kat! Hello—”

“Miss Howard?” A woman, no older than fifty, asked as she flashed a police badge into the older woman’s face. She was donned in black, a small frown on her face.

“No, I’m… Catherine Aragon,” She spoke slowly, brows knitting together before glancing behind her.  “Hey Kat? You need to come here, babe.”

Katherine came up to the door, wrapped in one of the throws that rested on one of the sofas with a curious hum before she locked eyes with the policewoman. “H… Hello?”

“We caught Mr Dereham, Mr Mannox and Mr Culpepper.” The policewoman spoke softly, and she could only watch in pity as Katherine tensed and took a step back at their names. “They’ve been arrested but, right now, they’re fighting for their innocence despite the evidence.” She took a pause, glancing over at the shocked Catherine. “This… may have to go to court, and it may require your presence but, rest assured, we are trying to not let it get to that point.”

She tipped her hat, glancing away. “We’ll keep in touch, miss Howard. Thank you.”

Katherine felt like a zombie as she walked back to the sofa and sat in it. She barely registered the seat next to her dipping as Aragon joined her. She barely registered the fact she was crying until the other woman thumbed tears away from her cheeks with soft sighs. “I don’t want to see them again, Cath…”

“I know, Kat.”

“I don’t want them to see how they’ve ruined me again.”

“I know, Kat.”

“Please don’t leave me, Catherine,” She sobbed. “Don’t leave me alone with them!”

“Ah, darling,” Catherine crooned, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head and gently rocking them back and forth. It was approaching eleven and the queens wouldn’t be back until two- she knew this for a fact- and it was up to her to make sure Katherine was kept safe and sane. “I will never let them put their hands on you again.”

Aragon hated the powerlessness she felt, hated that Katheirne was hurting again. Hated she’d possibly have to face them so soon. She hated, hated, hated it. But if there was one thing she knew for certain; it was that those three men would definitely be out of Katherine’s life for as long as possible.

She’d ensure it.

[secondbutthole]

Legendary

“What was she like?” Anne had asked one day in the living room, a rerun of Jeremy Kyle playing on the TV in front of them with some plot about a missing daughter. Really, Anne hadn’t been paying attention, not really, mind focussed elsewhere until the question had bubbled outside of her mouth. “Elizabeth, that is. My Lizzie.”

The other queens seemed taken aback at how sudden it was, and they took note of the trembling in the other queen’s shoulders as she sat on the sofa, legs over Aragon’s lap being the only sign of normalcy that Anne could show. 

Aragon slowly rubbed Anne’s leg to offer some sort of comfort as she leaned back. She knew she had nothing to offer in the conversation, but she hoped that at least she could help out in some way and if it was making sure the second of the lot was calm, she could live with that. 

“Your Liz,” Jane started with a small smile, a sort of faraway look in her eyes. “She was such a bright child. I always felt a twinge of guilt when she called me mama,” She paused, meeting Anne’s gaze with a small smile. “But I’d always point her to your portrait. Such a bright girl. And so good with her words too!”

Anne could only smile, the trembling seeming to stop a bit as her gaze flicked to Anna. “Such a cool niece,” She commented softly, leaning against the arm of the chair with a hum. “She always tried to share her toys with me and it was so cute watching her a lil Mary play. Henry used to let them come to Richmond for the weekend sometimes and Lizzie just loved the garden...”

“I was, obviously, young when I met Liz!” Katherine chimed in with a grin, “By then she was a little older, so I got to tell her that I was your cousin! She used to waddle over to me and chirp ‘Cousin Kitty!’ and it was the cutest. She... She asked about you sometimes...” And, at that, Kat fell quiet, looking down at her lap with a soft, soft frown.

“I got to see her grow up,” Parr sighed as she took a small sip of her tea. She was a little bit tense, and rightly so- her husband wasn’t the most amazing man, but- she shook that thought off. “It was incredible, seeing her turn from a curious little girl to one with passion and understanding. It was like she knew she was going to be queen one day, but she took everything with poise and grace.”

There was pause as the queens took time to reflect. “God, Anne,” Catherine smiled at the other woman rather tearfully. “She loved you. You would have been so proud of her. Everything she did, she really did do it for you.”

“I... Thank you, guys,” Anne sniffled, rubbing at her eyes ferociously because she didn’t want to lose her Cool Guy streak. “I really am proud of Lizzie and I’m so glad my little girl loved me.”

[secondbutthole]

Parr and Katherine hurt/comfort??

One of Kat and Cathy’s favourite things to do together was read. Fiction, nonfiction; they ate it up, making comments as they went and it often meant falling asleep in each other’s rooms. The queens didn’t expect them to get as close as they did, but then they supposed it made sense- Catherine was just after the beheaded queen.

About a week ago, they decided to pick up a book on the wives of Henry the 8th, finding it on the non-fiction shelves in the library. Curiosity had gotten the better of Kat, and as she held it up with pleading eyes and a small pout, they’d gotten it and began in Parr’s room with nothing more but lamps turned on and cup of teas on tables beside them.

Now in Katherine’s room, blankets over their shoulders and a small salt lamp between them, bating them in a soft pink glow, they had just gotten comfortable. Silence filled the room, save for small scoffs or the sound of the pages turning. It must have been an hour and a half in when Parr’s head glanced up from the sound of the book slamming shut. 

Catherine placed her book down, looking away from Katherine for just a minute, before gasping at the poor state the girl was in. “Kat?” She spoke softly, crawling over to her and gently touching her shoulder. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

“They said I wanted it,” She breathed, throwing herself into Parr’s arms and clinging to her like the woman would keep her safe from the historian’s lies. “Th-that I’d seduced Henry and Francis and-and Thomas. I didn’t, Cathy, please...!” She insisted, shaking her head and clinging tighter.

“I know you didn’t, Kitty,” Catherine soothed, rocking them back and forth while closing her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me that, I know. You were only so young, kid, and it’s not going to be like that anymore.”

Katherine nodded, though her tears still wouldn’t stop, and she clung just a little tighter. “Don’t let m-me go yet, please.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

The books were returned the next day, Katherine staying at home while Parr brought them in. She wasn’t happy with the library, that much was evident in her face, but she knew that it wasn’t the librarian’s fault. 

H T. Beaufort? She’ll have to write a letter to them, she thought with a small frown, get him to fact check or at least to understand that Katherine had never wanted what had happened.

[secondbutthole]

can i uhhhh request Anne or Jane taking care of Kitty when she’s sick??

Katherine had come from a poor family in her past life. This meant that if one fell ill, you could not afford the help of a doctor and you were just left to die.

Of course, this wasn't the case now in modern day London, what with the NHS being a free healthcare service.

But it didn't calm the anxiety rolling thick in her stomach when she woke up with a pretty bad fever. It felt like lead was weighing her tongue down, head getting crushed between some unforgiving vice. Was she going to die...?

[[MORE]]

"Kitty!" Came Anne's voice, cheerful and light as she swung open her baby cousin's door. "Anna and I was wondering if ya' wanted to come to the park! We were gonna hit Yo Sushi first but..." Her voice trailed off when she actually looked at her.

Pale skin, flushed cheeks, duvet not crumpled as if she couldn't feel comfortable, it made Anne feel guilty for barging in with her loud voice and excitement. "Do you want me to... bring Jane?" She asked, somewhat uncertainly because she never really saw Katherine this ill before. Had she been this bad since they've reincarnated?

Katherine shifted a bit, eyes hooded as she shook her head. She loved Jane, of course she loved her mother, but she didn't want to worry the woman. Shaking her head, she glanced away and in a soft huff she manahed to say- "No, Annie, want you..."

Being so ill was scary, and she always wanted her family with her when she got bad. Anne was family, and she was familiar since they knew Anne from when they were kids it just made sense to the youngest queen.

"Don't wanna die," She whimpered pathetically, a shiver wracking through her body.

Anne was by her side in an instant, taking her in her arms and pressing a soft kiss to her cousin's cheek. "You won't, Kitty, I won't let you." She promised.

"Nurse Boleyn is at your service."

[secondbutthole]

prompt: “why won’t anyone believe me?”

It was documentary after documentary after documentary that portrayed Katherine was someone who consented to it all. She could publicly go out to some historian and tell her that, no, she didn’t want anything to do with those three men but it wouldn’t change the belief of the people.

It was getting to the point that she, herself, was starting to doubt herself. In her solo, she made it sound like she’d wanted it up until Culpeper’s verse, so maybe it was true the whole way around? Maybe she was just a slut that asked for it, as Dereham used to taunt her. 

“Why won’t anyone believe me...?” She asked herself quietly as she put yet another documentary about her life on. One that was going to be filled with lies that she knew she could never correct.

[secondbutthole]

Shame

TW: csa

This talks about Henry Manox and if that makes you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I guess it’s a sort of vent piece. sorry 

it explores how she felt and her cousin lends a helping hand.

-

Katherine… doesn’t remember how it all started, but she remembered mostly everything that had gone on.  The way Manox would play with her hair, tugging and twirling the strands between his fingers, the instrument that she’d be learning forgotten about somewhere behind them. How his hand, uncomfortably large and ever so warm rested on a nervous but willing thigh. How his lips, too eager against her own, nipped and tugged and dominated. Katherine doesn’t remember how it all started, but she remembered the way that she felt through it all.

She remembered how eager she was to be wanted, how elated she was knowing that someone so mature had wanted her! She remembered the way her body responded, remembered the noises and the sensations and everything else that came with being ‘loved’. She remembered being told she was loved. She remembered not understanding the curl of shame that enveloped her stomach and caused her to feel sick after every… “lesson”.

She remembered, she remembered, she remembered.

And even now, in her new life reincarnated with the wives of the man she was once married to so long ago, she wished she couldn’t. Katherine got it now, she understood that what had happened was wrong- even if she had tried to excuse it for so long. “It happened years ago.” “The age of consent was different then!” “You wanted it!”.

No. She didn’t. Katherine thought she did, but she realised she didn’t- that she was manipulated by someone she should have trusted. She understood now why she felt ashamed every time it happened- why she felt ashamed even now in her new life; why her anxiety over men caused by Manox as well as other key people in her life never left her.

“Hey, Kitty?”

It was why she found herself on her IPhone, on google-

“Earth to Kitty-Kat!”

-typing in ‘Henry Manox’ to see what history had painted him as.

“Katherine!”

She jumped a bit at that, phone falling from her hands and landing rather pitifully on her lap, some webpage she clicked on loading up on her screen as she turned to see her dear cousin’s face. Katherine almost bristled at the slightest bit of concern in Anne’s eyes, not wanting to be pitied, but her gaze fell back to the screen, onto the portrait, and she felt her heart drop.

Anne gently scooped up the phone, taking a small glance at the page before locking and gingerly tossing it away. She watched the way the brunette’s eyes glazed over, still stuck on that same space, and she watched the way her shoulders shook and her hands rested up on her stomach and—

Anne would be a bad cousin if she didn’t try to comfort Katherine; her precious Kitty. “Hey,” She murmured, her voice void of all of her regular humour and she vaguely recalled that this was the way she sounded back as queen. “It’s okay, Kitty, he isn’t here. He’ll never touch you again.”

Katherine could only let out a choked sob, fingers gripping at the green queen’s shoulders and face buried into her sweater. “What if h-he reincarnated?” She hiccuped. “What if he finds me? What if-“

“No,” Anne said sternly. “He is gone, Katherine, and even if he was around, he’d have me to go through.”

It was silent for five minutes, just the two cousins sitting in a London flat taking comfort in knowing that the past was in the past, that they were okay, and knowing that they could just be.

“Besides,” The former second queen mumbled. “He’d have to behead me again to get to you.” Just a small joke and Anne felt her heart grow lighter at the sound of Katherine’s small laughter.

[secondbutthole]

distrust

Anne had not been the kindest to Jane in the beginning, and why would she be? In the past life, the woman had tried to erase her from the history books as much as she could! And as much as the other queens claimed that they changed, she was convinced that Jane was ready- was waiting- to get rid of her.

But it was when she’d woken up one night with a nightmare of herself on that cursed execution block that Jane was instantly there with a cup of water and a look full of concern and worry. It was Jane that helped her calm down, realise that it was all okay and that she was in the 21st century. 

And while Anne had not been the kindest to Jane from the get-go, she was willing to change that and let the water pass under the bridge.

[secondbutthole]

I will pay you in gratitude for some Cleves content

Everyone had their place in the family. Aragon was the headstrong sassy woman who held religion close to her chest; Anne was... whatever Anne was; Jane was the mother figure amongst the group; Katherine was the daughter, and Parr was the smart one. 

Now, that wasn’t to say Anna didn’t have her place; she was the confident one, the girl that had a zero-fucks given attitude and that suited her just fine. It was true, after all- she was also the protector in a way, always ready to square up if anyone even breathed at her flock the wrong way. 

She’d known the hardships that they all went through in their life, knew all of teir insecurities and short comings and was a good shoulder to cry on, and she knew that it was the same right back for her if she needed it. 

Anna hummed as she picked up some biscuits and crisps from Sainsburys, already wishing she was back at home with the people she cared the most about but she knew that she would be soon, watching some romcom (it was Kitty’s turn to pick), snuggled against the people she loved.

[secondbutthole]

broken

It had been a girl. Four failed pregnancies and all she could do was deliver the kingdom a girl rather than a boy that they so desperately wanted. Now don’t get Aragon wrong, she loved her Mary to absolute bits and pieces but she couldn’t help but feel rather depressed at the disappointment from not only the court, but the entire country as a whole.

Maybe that’s why, in her new life, she always found herself praying. She would question why, back then, God had never graced her with a living son. Why every child before Mary, and the one afterwards, didn’t even live to be one years old. 

Was something wrong with her? Henry had loved her once, and she was discarded because she didn’t seem to work right. She couldn’t give the demanding king what he wanted. She was used again and again and thrown away like a broken toy. Maybe that’s all she was? 

A porcelain doll with cracks all along her chipped face. 

All she could do was tuck those thoughts aside, just for now, and get herself ready for the day with the other five queens in the house.