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pikapals16 · 4 years ago

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Just When It Gets Better, It Gets Worse (not finished)

tw: non-con, abuse, self-harm, sensory overload/panic attack, suicide attempt (these were planned tw's so not all of them are in this draft, but just to be safe)

A summer day spent at the mall with her visiting family should've been fun. It probably would've, excluding her past and her parents' denial that anything of any sort happened.

This isn't the case if you couldn't tell.

Kat's family was walking through the mall center when a group of people catches her eye. It's not like this group came together, they're all gathered up and definitely staring at something. Normally Kat would just walk on pass, but the sound of distress convinces them to sneak into the crowd.

After scooting to a place where she can observe, they see the subject of curiosity is a girl, about her age, and who's clearly in a sort of panic attack. Her hands are clamped and pulling at her hair, her body rocking back and forth.

The girl in pink watches as someone tries to approach her before someone else yelling back.

"Don't get close! She's probably one of those weirdos with autism." Kat pushes down their anger at the offhand comment. This girl doesn't deserve that, she's already in distress. Kat looks around for anyone the girl could've come with, as it is very unlikely that she'd have come alone

She sees two men, mid to late fourties, frantically looking around for something, which puts them as the most likely possibility. They consider going up to them to inform them of the situation, but she figures they already know, explaining the distressed look on the their faces (and assuming that they are who this girl arrived with).

Kat digs inside of her bag, looking for something that might help ground the panicking girl. Nothing that'd be remotely helpful, and she never brings their stress ball or fidget cube with their parents around. Something about disbelief in non-physical diseases, but she'd rather not risk it.

What they do take out though, is one of those toy rings with googly eyes. To be frank, Kat isn't sure why she has the old toy in her bag, but perhaps it will help the girl calm down? It's not like they have anything else to use.

Slowly, Kat slips closer to the girl, choosing to ignore any comments made, and sits in front of her, making sure to maintain distance to not make her feel uncomfortable.

Admittedly, they haven't been in a situation even remotely similar, but they've read some articles that give her an idea of what to do. The rest, she's just winging it.

Slipping the ring onto her finger, Kat raises their hand.

"Hi, I'm Mr. Goggles." Kat opens and closes her hand to imply that it's the one speaking. As it does, Kat can see the girl look up in curiosity. They guess that it seems to be working. "What's your name?"

Kat cringes a bit, this girl is probably a college student, she doesn't need to be dumbed down.

"C-Cathy." Cathy's eyes seem to light up at the character. Although her hands haven't moved from their position, they've stopped pulling, and her rocking looks like it's slowing down. Kat smiles at her, hoping she recognizes it.

She takes the ring off of her finger, and holds it out in their palm, offering it to her.

"You can have it." They say just loud enough for Cathy to hear. The latter looks at her in confusion. Why would the pretty girl be giving this to her of all people? She doesn't even know her. "It's okay, really."

At this point, Cathy's hand have since released from her head as she contemplates this. Hesitantly, she reaches out, causing Kat to scoot forward so she can hand it to her.

Cathy curiously spins and shakes the toy before putting the ring on her finger, like the pretty girl had. She opens and closes her hand, and her heart seems to flutter--at both the shaking sound of the googly eyes, and the little character that appears on her hand.

Kat smiles when they hear quiet coos coming from Cathy's mouth. What she did seemed to work, and she's calmed down.

Speaking of which, they should probably go and find their parents before she gets punished. Again. Yet, there's something that draws her towards this...stranger. She can rule out love, as she identifies as demisexual, but they're tempted to stay here in their little bubble.

Without any outside influence, just them-

"Oh my god, thank you." The two middle-aged men briskly walk over, one of them kneeling to communicate with Cathy through what looks to be sign language, and the other turning his attention to Kat.

Feelings and memories are shoved down into the archives of Kat's mind. She doesn't need or want to remember, and this guy shouldn’t have to worry over another panic attack.

”Thank you so much for calming her down. My husband and I really appreciate it. Not many people have enough patience to deal with our daughter’s autism.” The thought of these two men being married and raising a child calms some of Kat’s nerves, but just some.

”You’re welcome. Does she go to school here?” Kat curses at themself for asking that, but surprisingly the question isn’t taken a wrong way.

“No, we’re just visiting friends.” The other husband mentions as he helps Cathy up. “But thank you for being so kind. It’s rare that people listen.” Oh. Kat would know that firsthand. The countless times it’s happened.

“Yes, for sure.” Is what she settles with. They don’t need to know. “I should get going though. Wish you all the best!” With the goodbye, Kat runs off to find their family, praying they didn’t notice her absence.

But of course, they did, and while she’s being scolded at, Kat lets her thoughts take over for a bit. It’s not like it’d end any differently. It’s always the same punishment and Kat hates it each time.

They’ve felt nothing for the past couple of years but today just seemed to be different. An unlikely meeting, yet Cathy seemed to have an effect on them. And they only met for a couple of minutes if anything.

They don’t know why she’s putting so much thought into this.

What are the odds of them meeting again anyway?

Kat walks up to their meeting spot for lunch. She doesn’t have friends, acquaintances really, but they eat with them to trick themselves into thinking they are her friends. That she’s not completely alone. To distract herself from other things.

Right before they sit, Kat sees someone else, seated by themselves. People walk past without so much as a second glance, and Kat can’t take their eyes of them. They have brown curly hair, and they’re wearing a blue hoodie, which in itself is a bit odd for August.

Kat fiddles with their pink crop top. She sees herself in this mystery person. The emptiness and loneliness. Perhaps if they help the other, maybe they’ll feel less damaged as well.

”Do any of you recognize them?” Most of them don’t, but someone claims to have seen her in their creative writing class, and another claims that she has ASD. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

The girl in pink sees the strange looks from their lunch mates, but like she’s done before, it goes ignored.

"Hi." The girl on the bench looks up at the new voice. "Can I eat lunch with you?" The brunette scoots over and pats the empty space for her to sit. As Kat sits down, the other can't seem to take her eyes off her. She's pretty.....and someone she hasn't gotten the chance to thank yet.

Quickly the girl in blue digs through her bag, looking for a certain item that a certain someone had given her on a certain summer day at the mall. She shakes the rings back and forth to get the pretty girl's attention.

"Oh. Wait." Kat takes a better look at the girl she's sitting next to. No wonder she felt familiar. "We met over the summer. Cathy, right?" Cathy nods, smile growing on her face. "Well, I never told you my name, so I guess I'll do that now. Hi, I'm Kat. She/they pronouns."

"She/her." Cathy points to herself as she speaks, to make sure that Kat didn't think that Cathy didn't support their pronouns. "And thank you." Kat tilts their head in confusion. "For Mr. Goggles and helping me during my meltdown. You kinda saw me at my worst."

"Oh um, it's nothing." Lie. "Hold on, I thought you were just visiting?" ..Not a complete lie, she put some pieces together.

"My dad got a job here and my pop didn't want to be more than an hour away from me because....you know." Cathy realizes she's been stimming, but doesn't stop her actions, rather glancing at Kat to see her reaction. Nothing. Kat's eyes never leave Cathy's, well really her head since the latter isn't a fan of direct eye contact.

And that's another thing. Kat doesn't force eye contact like the other's experienced so many times before. Cathy's met very few people who are similar, and she holds them all close to her heart.

"Yeah."

The two talk for a little longer before departing for their separate classes. 'Two' honestly refers to Kat leading the conversation and Cathy commenting when prompted, but neither really care. They make sure to exchange numbers, but little did they know how much they would end up depending on each other.

She was minding her own business, honest. Cathy was never one to go into crowded places alone, for obvious reasons, but this is the easiest and closest place for her to meet with her new friend.

The ever so increasing volume of the area starts to bother the blue girl, so she takes out her headphones, blocking out most of the noise. She checks her watch again. Kat’s still not here?

Her initial thought is that Kat blew her off, but they’ve made it very clear that she’d never do something like that, not without explanation. To steer her thoughts away from becoming too overwhelming, Cathy plays with her fidget cube inside her pocket.

It’s never completely gone, but Cathy’s certainly learned how to handle her ASD better. Or at least, so that she can prevent any public outbreaks.

Unlike some people who just haven’t grown up from high school behavior yet. This particular guy thinks it's funny to copy her very subtle stimming. Just your typical jackass.

"Dude stop, she hasn't done anything to you." And that, would be the arrival of her friend. Kat turns to Cathy, tilting their head in the direction of her dorm, and the pair starts walking away. "He didn't make you uncomfortable, did he?"

Cathy shakes her head, and the two walk in silence. The silence isn't all that bad or foreign, but rather a comfort to the two. Of course, until the unsuspected thunder. Seriously, they don't know why they bother listening to the weather reports at this point.

In instinct, Cathy takes off her jacket and wraps it around Kat before pulling the both of them into the dorms.

"Cathy, you can stop running, we're inside now." Cathy doesn't stop. She doesn't want anyone else to see what she's done. No one's seen it. Not even her parents. She keeps her same pace until she's navigated the halls to Kat's dorm.

Only then does she let go.

And she immediately regrets it.

"Cathy...." Without the long sleeves as a cover, Cathy's scars are exposed. Even as she tries to hide it with her hands, they're still visible. She does nothing except curl in on herself, soft noises coming from her mouth. Kat does nothing except open the door, trying their best not to stare so hard.

Thank goodness her roommate is out of town, that would've made for some awkward conversation. Kat and Cathy walk in, the latter with a brisk pace, the former with a moment of hesitation.

"You did that yourself, didn't you?"

and that's where i gave up, basically, where i was going with this was that cathy opens up about the self-harm, then kat opens up about her trauma yea, they're friends! cathy is a year older than kat, so she graduates and although they still talk, it's not as often as kat would like. long story short, kat starts to feel lonely and depressed again, and they feel so disconnected from the world that she kills herself by overdose. little does she know that cathy and her friends were just on their way to surprise them, but see kat just in time for it to happen. cathy runs up, and begs kat to stay with her (the others are calling an ambulance) and kat's like "shit no, wait, you're here" then black out.

whether or not kat survives is up to interpretation! or....would've been hehe. idk, i'm kinda rambling now, but yea here's an abandoned oneshot

#six the musical #six fanfiction

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loganscanons · 4 years ago

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context: just some Jamie and PJ vignettes!

Around age 10

PJ gasped loudly and grabbed Jamie’s arm, gripping tightly. His face, already bright pink, turned even redder, reaching to the tips of his ears. As a wild grin spread over PJ’s lips, he groaned, knowing already that she was going to do something embarrassing.

“You like like her!” PJ said with devious joy. “I’m gonna tell her.”

“No!” Jamie said, and his stomach flipped.

“Hey, Cathy!” she called, raising and waving her arm to catch the attention of the girl across the playground. “Ja--mMMRPHh”

Her words were cut off by Jamie clamping his hand over her mouth and tackling her to the ground. She struggled, then licked the hand that covered her lower face in an attempt to gross him out and make him let go, but to no avail. So, she opted to elbow him in the stomach instead. For a moment, they wrestled in the woodchips, PJ laughing as Jamie tried to restrain her and keep her from yelling out anything else.

“Ok, ok!” she said, as Jamie gripped her in a headlock and balled his hand into a fist to give her a noogie. “I won’t tell her!”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

They got up and dusted off the woodchips that clung to their uniforms.

“I wasn’t actually gonna tell her, dummy,” PJ laughed. “I was just gonna ask if she wanted to play a game with us.”

“That’s just as bad!” Jamie said, his cheeks flushing once again.

Around age 12

“What was that?” PJ whispered into the darkness.

She and Jamie were locked up in the treehouse in her yard, huddled together with their legs in the warmth of their sleeping bags. They had flashlights and baseball bats at the ready. Jamie strained his ears and sniffed the air, putting his werewolf senses to good use. PJ did the same.

“I think it was a squirrel,” Jamie whispered back. Another noise made them both jump and Jamie asked, “What was that!?”

“Probably a demon,” PJ said.

Jamie groaned quietly.

Something loudly clattered to the ground outside, and the two children exchanged a wide-eyed look.

“Definitely a demon,” Jamie said, hiding his face in his hands. “We’re gonna die!”

PJ, unconvinced, sniffed at the air, “Do demons have a smell?”

“How should I know?” he asked.

“Your dad works for the SBI!”

“He hasn’t introduced me to any demons!” Jamie said. “They probably smell like fire and brimstone or something.”

PJ sniffed again and frowned. “What does brimstone smell like? Garbage? Cause that’s all I can smell.” She kicked the sleeping bag off her legs and said, “Let’s go look.”

“What? No! We’ll die. We can’t beat a demon!” he said, grabbing her arm.

“I’m just going to look out the window,” she said. “I won’t even use my flashlight.”

She crept along the treehouse floor silently, then popped up just high enough to see out the window. In the lights of the suburbs, she saw a round, dark creature rifling through two trash cans that had toppled over. She grinned and turned to Jamie.

“Jamie, come see the demon,” she said.

“No!”

“Come onnn,” she said.

With a bit more pleading, she convinced him to approach the window. He gulped and looked out into the night.

“That’s a raccoon!” Jamie said, turning on PJ, who was now doubled over laughing. He punched her arm. “I told you we shouldn’t have watched any Rated R movies!”

Around age 15

“Jamie! Your girlfriend is here!” Patrick yelled across the house.

“My who?” Jamie called back. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

He looked over the banister to the entryway below to see PJ grinning up at him. He rolled his eyes and tramped down the stairs.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grumbled, snatching his jacket off its peg as he passed his laughing brother.

“What?” PJ gasped with mock surprise. “Is this how you’re breaking up with me?”

“Shut up, you lesbo,” Jamie said, his face flushing. She laughed.

#pj jones #jamie connolly #my writing #pack mates #uf #urban fantasy

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years ago

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We All Still Die (part one)

[The Walking Dead/Zombie Apocalypse AU]

Word count: 2181

TW: Blood

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

-Fresh-

Aragon isn’t really awake yet. She never is until at least her second cup of coffee, and she hasn’t even had one. She doesn’t have that luxury anymore, really.

She’s having a hard time getting her eyes to focus in the prickling grey-orange sunlight bleeding down from the setting sun, but it certainly looks like there’s a man near that tree up ahead, crouched down on all fours, gnawing at a leg.

A human leg. Definitely. It’s still wearing a sneaker. And a sock.

The man gnawing on the human leg suddenly stopped chewing, as though some sound had disturbed him. He slowly looked up from his meal. His eyes didn’t blink, and they seemed to be too large for his face. His mouth hung open. Drool and blood trailed down his chin.

She heard about the outbreak in London. Of course, at the time, she hadn't thought it was as serious as the eleven o’clock news made it out to be. They get hysterical about everything. A couple of inches of snow, and it’s THE SNOWPOCALYPSE. She can’t really be blamed for putting their ZOMBIEPOCALYPSE warnings in the same category. Boy who cried wolf, right?

But it seemed the newscasters were at least a little right, because it’s been half a year since the disease went viral and there’s a zombie chowing down on a human leg just a few yards away from her.

Damn, she really missed her coffee machine.

She caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye, and a herd of at least ten more zombies came staggering around the bend in the woods. They were covering ground pretty steadily. Faster than most would have expected.

The zombie with the leg saw them coming. He rose from his crouch, teeth bared, leg in hand. Some of the zombie herd moved towards him (herd? is that the right word? maybe a flock? a decomposition of zombies? an infestation, perhaps? anyway.…) and they start a messy tug of war with the leg, mostly using teeth.

Others look around for different prey. One goes for a squirrel. Some seem to be eyeing the tree Aragon was sheltered in, though she’s covered by enough leaves that she doesn't think they can actually see her.

Still, this is really not good. The herd may not be that big, but they’re closer to her camp than she would be comfortable with. She would have to take them out quietly and carefully without attracting anymore that may be lurking around.

And then, there was a gunshot.

One of the Walkers crumpled to the ground from a bullet in its knees. The others whipped their head around to the tree where the green-clad gun wielder was perched precariously with a pistol in hand.

“Anne!!” Aragon barked in frustration.

The woman, Anne Boleyn, leapt down from her tree and sliced off the nearest Walker’s head with a sword she had apparently stolen from a museum when the world went to shit. She flashed a smile at Aragon before going for another.

Good grief. Well, at least she could count on Cleves to listen to orders.

“Take that, you stank ass BITCH!!”

Nevermind.

Cleves stabbed her machete deep into the skull of a Walker that was missing its right arm. She yanked it out with a glorious spray of dark red blood, then whipped around to embed the blade into the temple of a second, piercing its brain and killing it once and for all.

Aragon sighed heavily, watching the two idiots slash away at the Walkers. While their method of attack was effective, it was dangerous and very loud. The whole point of the rule “no call outs” was to keep from attracting any other zombies. Same for using guns unless they were absolutely needed. Not that she expected Anne and Cleves to ever understand that when they were paired together. That was exactly why she was basically having to babysit them on this scouting and hunting trip.

With another sigh, Aragon raised her crossbow, aimed, and put a bolt between a nearby Walker’s eyes.

“Bullseye!” Anne cried, throwing her arms up in the air. “Good job! Ten points to Catalina!”

Aragon exasperatedly rolled her eyes. “Will you--” Her breath caught in her throat. “ANNE, BEHIND YOU!!”

Anne whipped around and screamed as a Walker lunged for her, hands grabbing, eyes rolling, teeth snapping, ready to take a bite out of its prey--

--but then something smashed into the back of its knees and it tumbled to the ground. Much stronger jaws clamped around its head and ripped off a large, dripping chunk. Parts of the brain came with it.

“Eyy!” Cleves cheered. “Good boy, Pixie!” She rubbed the top of the brown and white pit bull’s head. “Good boy! Such a good boy!” She shot a smirk at Anne. “Once again, Pixie saves your ass.”

“Oh, pssh,” Anne said dismissively. “I knew it was there. I was letting him take it down for me! To motivate him!”

“Uh huh,” Cleves nodded and then laughed.

Aragon climbed down from her tree and approached the two. They both were already prepared for the lecture she had sitting on her tongue.

“We go for the head, Anne,” Aragon said. “You know that.”

“I do.” Anne nodded. “I’m just a shit shot.” She gave her gun to Aragon, who confiscated it with a sigh. “But hey! Look! We got them all, and with no bites!”

“I know,” Aragon said. “There was a lot this time. The most I’ve seen in awhile.”

“I’m sure it’s okay,” Cleves said. “We can handle them.”

Aragon looked at her, then nodded. She scanned the area quickly.

“We should be heading back,” She said. “Anne, you still have the rabbits, right?”

Anne held up the five hares she had tied to her belt. “Yup.”

“Good. Let’s get away before anymore muertos show up.”

“Muertos,” Anne echoed as Aragon led them back to the camp. “Is that really what we’re calling them?”

“Or Walkers,” Aragon said. “That’s what most people call them.”

“Is that ‘dead’ in Spanish?” Anne said. “Muertos?”

“It is.”

“What’s it in French?” Cleves asked.

“Morte.” Anne answered. “What about German?”

“Tot.”

Anne laughed loudly. “We are definitely not calling man-eating zombies ‘tots’!”

“You asked!”

It wasn’t long before their camp rose up from the thicket. The ski lodge was a safe haven up on the hill, an island cloud of heaven above a world turned to hell. It’s been their base for three months now, when the group first reconciled, and Aragon was hoping to keep it that way.

Firelight could be seen glowing from the cracks between the boards put up against the windows. The planks were a necessity, as they had all seen Walkers easily smash through glass. Whether wood would hold against the strength of the undead was unknown as of right now, not that anyone was eager to find out.

A young woman was up on the abandoned ski lift when they arrived, but instead of keeping watch with her sniper rifle, she had her head buried in her journal, writing away.

“Cathy, what have I told you about writing while on watch?” Aragon said.

“It’s...an efficient use of my time?” Cathy guessed with a mischievous grin.

“It distracts you,” Aragon corrected. “And writing in the dark no less.”

Cathy squinted up at the sky. “But the sun is just starting to set!”

“Ah, ah,” Aragon tutted. “Come on, now. Dinner is going to be made soon. You can take a break for now--although you’ve technically already had one.”

Cathy and Anne giggled.

Aragon walked into the ski lodge, the bell on the front door signaling their arrival. The smell of roasting meat wafted throughout the building, meaning Maria had already started cooking. A soft tune from a record player set a sort of ease upon the base.

“They’re back!” Kitty squealed, leaping up from the couch. She ran over and hugged each of them, then gave Pixie a vigorous petting. “No bites?”

“No bites.” Anne said.

Kitty nodded in approval, then went back to petting Pixie.

“How was it out there?” A sweet voice like an angel’s asked.

Aragon looked forward and couldn’t help but smile when she saw the woman walking over to them. Jane always managed to make her heart flutter and her knees feel weak, no matter if it was the first or hundredth time she saw her that day.

“Fine,” Aragon said. “We ran into some muertos, but nothing we couldn’t handle.” She decided to keep out Anne’s shitty shooting and the loudness of their process of killing the Walker. She kissed Jane, then leaned down to kiss her stomach as well, eliciting a giggle from her girlfriend. “And how are you both?”

“We’re splendid,” Jane said, gently rubbing her belly. She was currently four months into her pregnancy and if Aragon wasn’t worrying about the Walkers, then she was worrying about that. Jane found it incredibly endearing.

“That’s good,” Aragon smiled. “I’m glad Jane Jr. isn’t causing her Mama any trouble.”

Jane laughed loudly. “Jane Jr.? Really?”

“Yes! Named after the greatest woman on earth!” Aragon proclaimed.

“I didn’t realize I was a mirror,” Jane mused, making Aragon’s ears flame red.

“GOD, you two are SO GAY.” Anne yelled loudly before kissing Cathy passionately.

Aragon rolled her eyes in amusement. Jane laughed again, then sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace. Aragon sat next to her, carefully rubbing her stomach.

“It’s not going to jump out and bite you.” Jane teased. She took Aragon by the wrist and moved her hand to rub the bump more firmly. “They won’t feel you if you do it so softly.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Aragon said.

“You won’t, silly.” Jane nudged her. “Oh, and by the way, we are not naming them Jane Jr.”

“What?” Aragon gasped in horror, making Jane laugh again. “Jane Jr. is a perfect name!”

“But I’m Jane.” Jane said. “Besides, what if it’s a boy?”

“Then we name him Ezekiel or something.” Aragon replied breezily.

“Absolutely not.”

They both laughed. Such an action was sometimes hard to do in the middle of an extinction of the human race, so Aragon always cherished these little moments they were able to have.

“Dinner!” Maria called.

“Coming!” Aragon called back. “Here, let me help you up--”

But Jane was already on her feet. She smiled at Aragon fondly. “You gentlewoman.” She said. “But I’m not helpless.”

“Just taking precautions!”

They walked over to the dinner tables, where everyone was already seated. Anne was retelling her amazing victories in the forest to Cathy, Maggie, and Kitty, while Maria was passing out bowls of stew and Cleves was refilling Pixie’s food and water dishes. Aragon and Jane sat down.

“It smells amazing, Maria,” Jane said.

Maria smiled. “Thank you! I try my best with limited supplies. Those hares will make an amazing breakfast tomorrow, by the way.”

They all began to eat, savoring the meal, as they did with all of the ones Maria cooked. Food was getting harder and harder to come by nowadays, so they all made sure to be grateful with whatever they got to eat.

Cathy was the first to finish and went out to the balcony to scout the forest below for a moment. When she came back, her features were firm and forced, but her stride was fast, like she was anxious to get away from something.

“There’s a Walker out front,” She said, and that was enough to send everyone into a panic.

“What?” Kitty squeaked, cowering in fear.

“How many?” Aragon asked.

“One, that I could see,” Cathy answered. “But it’s pretty dark out there.”

“I’ll go check it out,” Anne said, removing her sword from its sheath on her back.

“I’ll go, too,” Cleves said, then whistled for Pixie to follow her.

“Be careful!” Aragon called after them.

Jane went around to Kitty and hugged her. Aragon noticed that the poor girl was shaking- she always had a more intense fear of Walkers and Aragon wasn’t sure why. She just assumed it was from Kitty’s young age. Being eleven in the zombie apocalypse couldn’t possibly be easy.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Jane murmured sweetly. She pulled Kitty into her lap and began to rock her soothingly. “Cleves and your big cousin are going to take care of it, okay?”

“B-but what if they--”

“Shh,” Jane kissed Kitty’s forehead. “They’ll be just fine. Anne is as tough as nails, you know that? She would never leave you alone, I promise.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Aragon noticed Maggie shifting anxiously. She looked as worried for her best friend as Kitty was. Aragon walked over and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“O-okay,” Kitty whispered, then nodded. “Y-you’re right. Nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.”

And then Cleves and Anne burst through the front doors, eyes wide, faces pale, and a limp child clutched in Cleves’s arms.

“Jane!” Anne cried, “Get your medical supplies!!”

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acrochetedgundam · 3 years ago

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fluffbruary day 13 prompt: cold

summary: trowa wants to remember, but his mind tells him no.

So much felt cold after his accident.

Cathy still hadn’t told him exactly what had happened, but he isn’t sure she actually knows anyway. She’d alluded that it had something to do with the war, but he hadn’t pressed it further. What was clear was that he belonged with her, here in the circus. His body knew what to do for every routine from muscle memory. He must have performed those moves hundreds of times before. If this wasn’t where he was supposed to be, how did he know how to do it so well?

Sometimes he would get flashes of what he assumes are his memories. A violin solo. Sand whipping around in the desert. Gunfire. A wisp of blond hair. But, whenever he tries to dive deeper, tries to remember, an aching cold overpowers him, short-circuiting his brain. It's as if his mind is trying to protect him from the memories. He dives too deep and it tells him no.

It’s easier to accept what Cathy tells him. That he’s her brother, that they live and travel with the circus and always had. It’s easier to ignore the flashes as they come to him, shoving them back into the deepest recesses of his mind, where they must belong. Keeping the cold away.

But then that boy comes, the one with the absurdly long braid who knows his name. He can’t remember his face, but from the way he talks to him…he knew Trowa, before. He tries to place him after Cathy shoos him away, but the cold comes again, worse than before. Like his mind is screaming at him to let it go.

So he does.

Until the second boy comes. The moment Trowa looks at him, he feels warm. All over. Deep into his soul. He knows Trowa, and Trowa is certain that he knows him as well - he recognizes the tambour of his voice, the blue of his tear-filled eyes, and thinks he remembers the feel of his hands, even though he can’t remember his face or his name. He is warmth, and Trowa is cautious, but drawn to him. Wants to wipe the tears from those eyes, wants to tell him that he’s forgiven for whatever it is he is apologizing for.

He shouldn’t be sad. Trowa doesn’t want him to be sad.

Then Cathy comes, and she is angry. He’s never seen her angry before, so when she tells him to get inside he listens, though he stays close enough to the flap of the tent to watch their exchange. She shouts at the boy; he’s too far to hear exactly what she says, but he feels the warmth drain out of him when the boy’s face falls, when he reluctantly turns to walk away.

Trowa doesn’t want him to go. He wants to chase that warmth, needs to find out who that boy is, who that boy was to him. Trowa was someone to him. Someone important. Someone who’d mattered.

He finally gets his feet to move, to follow after him, but the cold rushes forward, forcing the air from his lungs, clamping around his chest like a vice. He stumbles to his knees as his mind begs him not to remember, not to remember him. Confused, he clutches his head in his hands, shivers despite Cathy’s warm arms around his shoulders.

#fluffbruary 2022 #trowa barton #quatre winner #trowa x quatre #post ZERO #amnesiatic trowa #this one is more angst that fluff ooop

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sixqueendom · 5 years ago

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New Fanfic: If Only You Would Listen, Chapter 4

So, after having a few requests to, I’ve decided to post my new fic on here as well as AO3. If you would prefer to read on AO3, I have included the link below! No real warnings for this one. Just the usual angst I'm sure you've grown accustomed to with my fics if you’ve read any of my previous work!

A huge thank you to Phoebe (@theatergirl06), Lilac (@timetoriseabove) and Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for beta-reading this fic! You guys are the best! An extra special thank you to Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for your support, thoroughness and help with this fic! Without you, my grammar would be tragic and i’d never be able to conjure the right words I want to say! I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! AO3 ------------------

There was a deep sense of nervous anticipation the following morning as, one by one, the Queens came downstairs for breakfast. Jane, as always, was the first to rise. She couldn’t resist peeking into Kitty’s bedroom with baited breath, before her shoulders slumped as her eyes fell onto the neatly made bed. But she clung onto the tiny shred of hope she had left, as she padded downstairs to the kitchen, only for her heart to sink at the sight of the vacant space. Despite this, she soldiered on and prepared breakfast, determined to maintain the usual routine for the others’ sake. The smell of sweet pancakes and toast must have sparked some optimism, as a disheveled Cathy sleepily trudged in next, her eyes hopeful, her hair hastily tied up into a messy bun. But, seeing the room empty besides Jane, her face fell as she slid into a chair at the table. Even Catherine, who always waltzed in breezily each morning, fresh-faced and bright, couldn’t conceal her bitter disappointment, the smile slipping from her lips as she poured herself some tea.

Finally, a familiar thump at the bottom of the stairs announced Anne’s unceremonious arrival. The reality hit her hardest, her hopes of Kitty having returned home dashed as she froze in the doorway. The others watched as her head dipped in an effort to hide her quivering lip, her hands clenched into fists by her sides as she tried to fight her anguish. Jane slowly lifted herself from her place at the table, casting her a sympathetic look.

“Come on, love,” she said, softly, wrapping her arm gently around the girl and guiding her to the seat between herself and Cathy.

As Anne buried her face in her hands to quietly cry, Cathy abandoned her toast and pulled her closer, resting her head on the younger woman’s shoulder for comfort. Despite the glorious sunshine outside, the solemn mood cast a shadow over the room. Breakfast in the house was usually quite predictable in nature, with each of the women having their preferred times of rising from bed. It was always buzzing with discussion - the exchanging of plans for the day ahead, bubbly laughter in the air from Anne or Kitty - the soundtrack to their everyday life.

But today, there was simply silence.

The playful skip of an entrance from Kitty, the flash of pink hair, was missing. There was no giggling as she was teased by Anne, no light-hearted roll of the eyes from Cathy when she realised they’d swiped the jar of Nutella, no general banter exchanged as Anna finally made an appearance, barging in to help herself to a slice of toast. Instead, the whole routine was stiff, subdued. Once Anna finally arrived, there was no loud proclamation; the German sank into the nearest seat without a sound, propping her head up with one arm. Catherine made a half-hearted attempt at normality as she flicked distractedly through the pages of her magazine in a futile effort to divert her attention away from the empty chair beside her. The gaping hole where Kitty should be.

Finally, Cathy stood wearily, fighting against the heavy feeling that almost overcame her. She made a quick call to their agent to cancel the interview scheduled for later that morning, fabricating a lie about a stomach bug amongst the Queens, before retreating to her bedroom. Jane began to stack the dishes up to wash, Catherine quick to volunteer her help, feeling the need to keep herself occupied. That left Anna and Anne exchanging despondent looks across the table, silently admitting they should probably be going to do something. After a small staring match, it was Anna who finally stood to leave, deciding to move to the lounge to binge-watch TV. Then Anne was alone, her head resting on the table. She had no motivation to move, not without the insistent tug of her cousin to lift her from the table and lead her upstairs. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, her head foggy. She wanted nothing more than to lie there all day. After all, what was the point of doing anything if Kitty wasn’t there?

Catherine finally broke the silence, turning to face Anne, desperate to try and instill some hope back into the younger woman.

“Maybe she’ll turn up for the show this afternoon.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a statement.

Anne tilted her head, her eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from her earlier tears. Oh, how she hoped Catherine was right. But she still couldn’t shove away the thought that Kitty’s decision had been final; that her patience had run thin, and they had driven her away for good. After all, she didn’t owe them anything, and she certainly had no obligation to turn up for the show today. They would have to call the theatre and arrange for her understudy to be brought in. But even the thought of performing without Kitty there made her heart ache. How could they possibly be expected to continue without her?

Shaking her head, Anne gave a sigh and silently left the room.

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

Meanwhile, at the hotel, Kitty had come to the conclusion that her current situation was unsustainable. She couldn’t just stay in a hotel forever, especially not with limited funds. She had no way to support herself, to eat, or to keep safe. And she was getting so lonely.

She needed her Queens.

But, did they need her? After all, they had been the ones to shun her, push her further away. Picking at her breakfast, Kitty mulled over her options. Part of her felt pulled back to them, like a lifeboat back to shore, to the security of a home and the people that she knew and loved. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? But then, there was also the unrelenting fear that she had irrevocably changed the home dynamics and her relationships with the other Queens. Could things between them ever really go back to the way they were before? When Kitty seriously thought about it, the obvious answer was no. After all, the “normal” she now longed for had also resulted in the dispute and resulting rift. Back in that “normal”, she had felt childish and insignificant. Yet, there had unquestionably been aspects of that familiarity that she’d loved. What she would give now to have a spontaneous, carefree dance off with Anna and Anne in their dressing room, inevitably getting glitter everywhere as they giggled. To have that delicious sweet smell of Jane’s baking floating upstairs on a warm, sunny afternoon, which would bring them all outside to sit on the patio and laugh over lemonade and cakes, the sun shining on their faces. She had felt part of the group then.

Then, there was the other part of her, telling her to persevere; she’d made her choice, now it was up to them to deal with the consequences. After all, she’d had no say in being reincarnated in the first place, so what was there to say that she was meant to stay with the other five wives who had also been mistreated and subsequently united by a mutual ex-husband. Maybe she was destined for greater things that didn’t involve them?

But again, surely there had been some purpose for them being reincarnated together? Surely that had to mean something?

There was also the issue of the show, which she had signed a contract for. She owed it to them to turn up...didn’t she? No, wait, she didn’t owe them anything! Not after the way they treated her! But then, there was the problem of her contract; if she bailed out with no notice, what would happen then? Her reputation would undoubtedly be tarnished.

Kitty groaned, her head throbbing as her inner thoughts conflicted. She felt free, yet lost , independent, yet painfully lonely. Why couldn’t someone just tell her what was for the best? What path was right for her? This had all happened so fast; she was having to readily make choices most people would have days, if not months, to consider, prior to coming to a decision.

She pulled out the photo once more.

So, what’s it to be, Kitty? Are you ready to go home, or are you ready to leave them behind?

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

Having consulted with Jane after Anne had left the room, Catherine decided they should hold off on another search in the morning and, instead, suggest to the others that they go to the theatre as normal. Despite lying to their agent to get out of the interview, it was still plausible that the fictional illness could have subsided in time for an afternoon show. The feedback from the others had mostly been positive; Cathy and Anna seemed hopeful that Kitty might be pulled back to perform. Anne, however, was in denial, finding it impossible to shake the feeling that Kitty’s actions had been final, that she wasn’t coming back. So, with that, the Queens arrived early for their afternoon performance. They tried to stick to their usual pre-show routines, but the atmosphere was quieter than normal, muted. There was no lively chatter or banter between them, no music spilling out from Anna’s portable speaker, which, on most days, would be enough to prompt a spell of singing.

The silence was the first thing Kitty noticed as she let herself into the stage door. As she walked down the narrow corridor, approaching the adjoining two dressing rooms, her heart was pounding in her ears. She clamped her eyes shut as she took a deep breath, doubt still gnawing away at her. She prayed that she was doing the right thing, that she would not live to regret this.

When she peered around the corner into the dressing room she shared with Anne and Cathy, she was stunned to see how solemn and quiet they were, just going through the motions without uttering a word. Kitty felt her heart wrench. Was this about her? Did they really miss her? It was Anne who looked up first, the familiar flash of pink, catching the corner of her eye. Her mouth fell open, her eyes already glistening with tears as she launched herself from her seat, throwing her arms around Kitty in relief, the force almost knocking the wind right out of her. Cathy whirled around, her eyes wide, before breaking into a smile. Kitty could barely breathe, Anne was squeezing her so tightly, but she didn’t argue. If anything, it only confirmed one thing: this was where she was meant to be. Burying her head into her cousin’s shoulder, she too began to cry.

After a moment, Kitty pulled away, wiping her eyes.

“There’s something I need to do,” she said with conviction, before moving next door.

She ignored Catherine and Anna gawping in bewilderment as she entered, not hesitating to walk up to Jane and wrap her in a hug, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Oh, Kitty, darling!” she breathed, returning the hug with the same intensity, the tears coming quick.

“I’m sorry,” Kitty sobbed into her shoulder, relishing in finally having the feeling of Jane’s comforting arms around her once more. It filled her with love: this was home.

“No,” Jane shook her head, pulling back and brushing a tendril of hair from Kitty’s eyes. “It’s me who should be sorry. I’ve been too scared to acknowledge that you’re not a girl anymore, that you’re an adult and you should be treated like one.” Jane paused to compose herself, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “I’ve been so consumed in trying to replicate what I could have had, instead of accepting that’s all in the past now. I’m not your mother, after all, although sometimes I wish I was. I bet you’re thankful I’m not.” Jane chuckled jokingly, which in turn made Kitty smile through her own tears.

“But that’s just the thing,” Kitty sniffed, bowing her head. “I love nothing more than your hugs, your baking...and I do sometimes wish you were my mum but…” Kitty hesitated, biting her lip as she considered her words carefully. “I...suppose I just want more space? More, um, freedom?”

Jane nodded in agreement, a smile still on her face.

“Maybe we can compromise? I won’t nag at you for what time you’ll be home if I still get to fuss over you, on special occasions?”

Kitty laughed.

By this time, all of the Queens had congregated in the room, all surprised and relieved in equal measure.

“We all owe you an apology too,” Cathy admitted, standing tall.

“We never meant to ever make you feel insecure, or that your words were less valued than anyone else’s. You’re every bit a part of this family as anyone else,” Catherine said, wrapping her in a brief hug, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze as she moved back. “And, I’m sorry. For being so harsh on you.”

Anna stepped forward, wringing her hands. “We really missed you. I want you to know that I’d never, ever wish you weren’t here. You’re a vital part of our slightly dysfunctional family.” The comment prompted several chuckles. “What i meant to say is...I’m so sorry, Kit. I never wanted to drive you away.”

Kitty pulled the German close.

It left only Anne, who stood rather forlornly in the middle of the room, distractedly picking at her fingernails. After a moment, her gaze lifted to meet Kitty’s eyes.

“I think I probably owe you the biggest apology,” she mumbled, ashamedly. “It was my idea to stop discussing certain things in front of you. I just...wanted to protect you, not realising that you are more than capable of holding your own. I didn’t mean for it to go this far, for you to feel like you weren’t a part of us, like we were talking behind your back all the time. I would never have suggested it in the first place if I’d known how much that would hurt you.”

Kitty tilted her head in sadness, watching as Anne began to crumple in front of her, shame bringing yet more tears to her cousin’s eyes.

“Oh, Annie…”

She hurried over to envelop her in a reassuring hug.

“I know you were all just looking out for me. I don’t blame you for suggesting it either. I mean...we all don’t like talking about our past sometimes.” She nuzzled her face into Anne’s shoulder. “I know you were just trying to stop me getting hurt.”

Feeling a heavy weight being lifted off of her shoulders, Anne sunk further into Kitty’s hug, a smile breaking out on her face. “Beheaded cousins...right?”

Kitty grinned, pulling away and giving her hand a gentle squeeze, with a wink. “Right.”

It was like the entire room breathed a sigh of relief, the air finally clearing. But Kitty wasn’t finished. She looked around at all of the Queens.

“I want you all to know I’m sorry, too. I should never have run away like that, leaving you all worried.” She gazed purposefully at Catherine. “You were right, I should have taken a more mature approach to my problems. I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that and said what I did. I was just feeling so...lost. Like I wasn’t that important because I wasn’t included in all your conversations. I just wanted the chance to speak up, to feel more included, not left to feel like I was just like a little kid who was incapable of making their own decisions. Some of the topics that come up, sure, they’ll be hard. But I can handle them now. And, if I’m not having such a good day, or I feel like something might get upsetting, I’ll just walk away.”

The Queens listened intently, giving Kitty their undivided attention. It was the first time in a while that they had all listened to what she had to say, and they knew, now more than ever, how important it was. As Kitty continued, they made motions of encouragement

“Whilst I was away, I realised that I really needed you all. I missed every single one of you.” As she spoke, she turned to each Queen in turn.

“Jane, believe it or not I missed your comfort, your hugs. I just wanted you to tell me that everything was going to be okay.”

She held out her hand, pulling the older woman close to her.

“Cathy, when I couldn’t sleep I wished so desperately that I could sneak into your room and just talk, about everything and anything.” The writer gave her a warm smile, a glint in her eye. They would do that again soon.

“Anna, I missed your jokes; you always know how to make me laugh and cheer me up when I’m down.” The German was quick to ruffle her hair at the comment, pulling her closer to give her a squeeze.

“Catherine, I actually love getting to spend some mornings with you and you do give the best fashion advice.“ Kitty watched as the older woman’s face lit up, genuinely touched by the words. When Catherine didn’t move, Kitty beckoned her over to join the rest of the group.

Finally, Kitty turned to her cousin. “And Anne, well...who would I cause trouble with if it wasn’t with you?

At that, Anne practically flung herself forwards, and the youngest girl was suffocated in the tightest group hug she had ever felt. With the final piece of the puzzle in place, she felt like she could finally breathe again.

They were interrupted by the half an hour call over the tannoy.

At that, Anne scurried off, before quickly re-appearing with Kitty’s costume in hand, a huge smirk on her face.

“So, what do you say, Kit? Ready to be a Queen again?”

#six fanfiction

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coollovebibliophilethings · 6 years ago

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Daniel by C. T. Adams and Cathy Clamp

Daniel #CTAdams #CathyClamp

Title: Daniel Author: C.T. Adams & Cathy Clamp In: The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance (Trisha Telep) Rating Out of 5: 4 (Really good read!) My Bookshelves: Paranormal romance, Vampires Dates read: 21st September 2019 Pace: Slow Format: Short story Publisher: Robinson Year: 2009 5th sentence, 74th page: Cut off the head?

On a routine night on the job, she runs into a completely horrific vampire.…

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#C.T. Adams #Cathy Clamp #Paranormal Romance #The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance #Vampires

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anhed-nia · 5 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/19/2020: CATHY’S CURSE

I almost played hooky from Blogtober today, as I'm deliriously sick with this hay fever that I seem to get once a week now, as I'm trapped in my incurably dusty apartment while doing my part to flatten the covid curve. Ordinarily I'd like to have a little more mental clarity to address my Blogtober selections...but in this case, delirium might be the right state of mind. The iconic canuxploitation entry CATHY'S CURSE is a movie so crazy I had to watch it two days in a row, the second time after I'd sobered up from the initial shock, to make sure I really understood what was happening in it. At the present time, I THINK I have finally digested my experience, and I am entirely delighted to share it with the internet.

I mean...look at this completely perfect poster.

Based on my copious, meticulous notes, here is what seems to happen in Eddy Matalon’s tax shelter classic from 1977: Happy-go-lucky George Gimble (Alan Scarfe), his wife Vivian (Beverly Murray), and their eight year old daughter Cathy (Randi Allen--if you're only going to make one movie in your life, it might as well be this one!) move into the patriarch's hideous ancestral home, somewhere in Montreal. The grotesque Tudor manse remains just as it was in George's childhood; he skips around the house, fondling this memento and that--especially a nude female statuette that he all but admits he used to beat off to as a kid. Awash in nostalgia, he ignores the increasing brittleness of his daughter and wife, the latter of whom has recently suffered a miscarriage and a nervous breakdown. Shortly after their arrival, Cathy in particular starts to get real weird. This has something to do with a dirty old doll she finds in the attic, hanging out with a glowy-eyed portrait of her late aunt, who died in an infernal car wreck when she and George were children. The crash was tangentially caused by the defection of George's mother, who bailed on his father and absconded with him, shortly before his dad and little Laura burned to death in the car. Soon, Cathy becomes possessed by Laura's evil spirit, developing the goal of destroying Vivian’s sanity, if not the whole family altogether.

The Eyes of Randi Allen

CATHY'S CURSE is one of those movies that transcends standards of "good" and "bad" by turning up its nose at quality and coherence, and being vastly more entertaining than many more conventional films as a result. Though not at all cerebral, this kind of rare jewel forces me to think carefully about how I address it. On the one hand, I can go to town on how absolutely bonkers it is, suggesting that everyone involved must have been totally insane--a sense you definitely get while watching it. On the other hand, I could be a little more flexible--after all I am deeply grateful to the people who make movies like this, insane or otherwise-- and try to talk about what's in the text, that is so easily overwhelmed by what's on the screen. Let's try that.

Vivian, Cathy, an exceptionally crappy plant, and George.

Alan Scarfe, who plays George, is unmistakably a theater native. His broad mannerisms, along with his unusual bone structure, give the impression that he's always smirking to himself about something, ala Mister Burns, or Jay Sherman's dad from The Critic--which is very funny, and not completely inappropriate. George's smarmy hubris is something that he inherited from his father, who imparted to Laura the idea that "all women are bitches" shortly before they were both burned alive. George ignores or belittles Vivian's worsening neurosis, even though we learn that she recently lost a baby right at the beginning of the movie. He is equally immune to Cathy's escalating corruption, though most of this is aimed at her mom, as Cathy terrorizes Vivian with her bizarre talent for teleportation, her ability to rot food with her mind, and to telekinetically fling caretaker Mary (Dorothy Davis) out the window to her icy death. Cathy is possessed by Laura, but she is really her grandfather's child, slinging insults like "fat dried-up old whore", and often-hilariously gaslighting her mother. It takes George forever to cotton to what's going on--and why wouldn't it, when his natural inclination toward his fragile wife is to lunge out of the mansion’s haunted shadows and clamp his hand over her mouth as a form of foreplay. The man of the house isn't quite at the point of chasing Vivian around with a baseball bat, but he does display a Torrence-esque disregard for her sanity. And like, not to call CATHY'S CURSE a serious work of psychological realism, but it's not uncommon, in a traumatized family, for daughters to hyper-identify with the father, internalizing his misogyny and turning on the mother. Even without Laura's homicidal ghost lurking around, it’s easy for Cathy to take cues from her father, who accidentally calls her by Vivian’s name, and lavishes attention on that coy little statue as he willfully neglects his spiraling wife.

All this is not to say that I’m reframing CATHY'S CURSE as a real thinker. I just want to give credit where it's due--even though the main event is its fabulously weird set pieces and logic-defying twists and turns. In one of my favorite scenes, Vivian warns Mary the caretaker to let Cathy sleep as long as she wants, since Cathy had a rough night after being separated from the demonic doll. Mary responds by going right upstairs and waking Cathy up for breakfast; then the little girl comes downstairs, explodes her father's jerkoff statue with her magic powers, and calmly smashes her bowl of cereal against the wall. Unperturbed, Mary picks up exactly three pieces of shattered ceramic out of the puddle of cereal on the floor and declares, "There, it's all finished," before offering Cathy a second bowl, which Cathy is fixing up right in front of her. The movie is so zany that it can be hard to tell whether we're supposed to think that Mary has somehow fallen victim to the curse, or if this is just par for the course of CATHY'S CURSE. Similarly, early in the movie, an intrusive neighbor brings a psychic medium (Mary Morter) over to visit Vivian--whereupon she channels voices from the inciting car wreck of the past, and bursts into terrifying shrieks and groans. Later, the medium calls on the Gimbles a few more times, with the demure introduction "I'm sure you remember me, I was at your house the other day...I was the medium, remember?", as if anyone could POSSIBLY FORGET WHAT HAPPENED. "Medium," sneers the possessed Cathy, "I say extra-rare piece of shit!" That's the kind of thing that makes this movie a bonafide classic. Basically, I’m concluding that CATHY’S CURSE as a little something for everyone. Whether you want to wallow in pretentious sturm und drang like me, or you’re in it just for the kicks, Cathy’s got you covered.

#blogtober #2020 #cathy's curse #eddy matalon #alan scarfe #bevery murray #randi allen #dorothy davis #mary morter #roy witham #myra clement #alain sens-cazenave #canuxploitation #horror #possession #ghost #haunted house #creepy kid

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jane-fucking-seymour · 5 years ago

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Chapter 21 - Recalibration

Words: 4,378

Ao3 Link

Catherine pulses forward, sword at the ready, Maria not too far behind. Jane immediately slams the staff into the ground, darkness swirling around the area as, suddenly, tens of summoning seals appear on the floor. From them, monsters of bone and flesh arise. They rush forward, beastly screams a rallying cry for the minions of the dark. The seals don’t disappear, instead continue to spawn monsters of the dark to attack the two warriors of Light.

Jane waves her hand in front of her, raising tens of skeleton archers and mages. They all fire at once towards the golden warriors against them.

Maria keeps Catherine protected, her shield thrown in front of where Catherine is rushing towards to create a burst of light, destroying the missiles and arrows and some of the advancing undead army. Those still alive swarm towards the two, instantly surrounding them, attacking at all sides.

A swipe of the Blessed’s sword cuts down quite a few, while the Squires own blade cuts a few into dust. They fall, shadow remains, until the demons simply reform from the darkness.

“We’re getting surrounded, Catalina,” Maria says, back to back with her mistress.

Catherine nods, looking around. “This is useless; they’re not actual bodies, it’s just shadow magicks.” She looks at Jane, who is currently standing towards them with her eyes closed. “We go to the source.”

“Right away,” Maria agrees, quick to suddenly spin off of Catherine, shield returning to her hand as she aims it straight towards Jane. Shadow skeletons jump to their master’s aide and blocks the ray of light energy that creates a hole in the offensive, a clear path towards Jane, and the duo instantly moves towards it.

Catherine feels the shadowy walls that make up the horde of summoned monsters close in, so to buy time, the woman extends a hand. Suddenly, wings of Blessed energy appear attached to her back, unfurling and destroying any shadows on contact. As she flies, still in sync with Maria, she throws her sword out, cutting down many a beast before it returns to her hand.

Maria continues to help to clear the way, shield bashing and slicing down any opponent that comes close, and with a smirk she realizes they’re getting closer.

Just as they get to the last line of defense, however, Jane’s eyes open up again.

They pulse with green, cold energy and Catherine’s own eyes go wide.

“Move!” She yells, taking Maria by the arm and throwing both her and her own body to the side. Jane’s hand extends and a sudden beam of green energy surges through where Maria and Catherine just were. The demons caught in it suddenly roar, strengthened by the energy.

The duo crashes to the ground, Catherine’s sword flying out of her hands and into the horde. It cuts some down as it goes flying, landing across the room.

Jane sees it and the Blessed and Squire are too distracted with the horde to do anything about it just yet.

“The sword!” Jane yells. “Grab it!”

As the duo struggles with the overwhelming amount of enemies collapsing on them, a servant of the dark rushes to the sword. It suddenly disintegrates into shadows, unable to handle the pure power of the active blade, but it manages to move the sword a few feet before it happens. The other of Jane’s minions in the area continue where that beast left off, sacrificing themselves to get the sword closer and closer to their master.

Catherine looks up from her struggles to see Maria barely able to stand, trying to get to her mistress, and Catherine’s own sword is just about to be grabbed by Jane...

Catherine instantly flaps her wings, a burst of light getting the shadows off of her, instantly extending her left hand and then balling it into a fist.

Jane has grabbed the sword, but suddenly it pulses angrily, blinding Jane for a moment. There’s some light energy that seems to clamp down on Jane’s hand; it feels like it’s burning her, but she can’t release it. She looks up at Catherine, who smirks.

“No. Way.” Catherine growls out, pulling her arm back towards herself, summoning the sword back to her now extended right hand... with Jane holding it.

The multitude of shadow figures that stood in between Catherine and Jane are disintegrated by the Sword’s energy as it returns to its owner. Jane’s eyes go wide as her cold, green gaze meets with Catherine’s golden, fiery glare.

Suddenly, they’re in close combat, as the shadows continue to try to interfere but are only taken down by the newly-freed Maria. Jane summons bolts of necrotic energy as her hand is released from the sword’s hold, forcing Catherine to dodge and deflect as she tries to strike her enemy.

Catherine uses a combination of bolts and sword strikes to try to catch Jane off balance, quickly deflecting what she can before striking at the other woman. Every few seconds a ghostly beast tries to strike at her - they’re coming so fast and so often Maria can’t quite keep up with it, though she is cutting down the majority of them around her Blessed - and Catherine deals with it as best she can.

Jane dodges bolts and swipes, using the slain shadows as cover to try to out maneuver Catherine while taking care to keep her distance from Maria, who occasionally strikes towards her to help her Blessed. Bolts of light and dark dance around the hall as they miss their intended targets, two of the strongest people in the Realm and beyond going all out.

It’s a few minutes into the dance that the duo manages to back a few feet apart, the space created by Maria and her assault on the creatures of the dark being put to good use. Catherine narrows her eyes as Jane rushes forward. Jane looks at her... and then mid stride, looks towards Maria.

Catherine instantly moves to intercept, but the smirk from Jane makes her realize the error.

“Catalina!” Maria yells, but the move is done. Catherine has overcorrected, as Jane expected, and Jane suddenly redirects her course straight to Catherine again, a surge of necrotic energy behind her as she pulses forward and strike.

For Maria, the world seems to stand still as she watches Jane make contact with Catherine’s torso, a sudden bolt of Necrotic energy sticking out from the Blessed’s back.

The shadows continue the assault, Maria in shock so much that she hesitates o her reaction, being forced to the ground and once again overwhelmed. The last thing she sees before the darkness claims her is her own hand, reaching out towards her mistress, calling her name for what could be the last time.

Catherine’s eyes go wide and she falls to her knees, shaking as she looks towards the ground. The necrotic energy is still sticking out of Catherine’s back as Jane goes down with her, kneeling so Catherine could rest her forehead on Jane’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” Jane says quietly. “I didn’t-“

But then, Jane stops. She looks at the bolt of energy... and realizes what’s happened.

“You son of a-“

The bolt of energy hadn’t pierced her target; instead, it had gone AROUND Catherine, who had made a sort of shield around her entire form thanks to her surplus of Blessed energy.

Catherine suddenly grabs her, smirking a little bit, as she looks up.

“Anne Boleyn sends her regards.”

A sudden bolt of Blessed energy - the same energy that was being used as a protective film around Catherine, the thing that saved her - explodes around her, causing Jane to be thrown backwards and into the nearby wall, knocking the wind out of her. The blast of energy causes the shadows to disappear, leaving Maria’s scrambling form. When she’s freed, she gets up, checking Catherine over for a moment before they both sprint towards Jane.

Jane catches her breath, stands, takes her staff and swings it around. Suddenly, there’s a large cloud of dark energy rushing towards them. Maria shields them both, somehow being able to withstand the force of the attack. When it’s over, the look up to find that Jane is gone without a trace.

Maria frowns. “She must have portaled out. Maybe she knows that type of magicks?” She tilts her head for a moment in thought before looking back at Catherine. “You... weren’t hit?” Maria makes a face. “You don’t usually fake injuries.”

“What else was I to do? She faked me out, so I faked her out.” Catherine moves past Maria, looking down at where Jane was just standing. She frowns as she looks at the only thing left: a piece of paper. Catherine picks it up, reading through it.

Maria raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?” Maria goes to look at it, but Catherine’s already put it away.

“Nothing we need just yet,” Catherine replies. “But soon.” She looks back at Maria. “We need to get going. Where is Cathy and Elizabeth?”

As if on cue, the two in question arrive.

“We’ve been made,” Cathy says simply. “Alarms are off all over the place.”

Elizabeth takes in Catherine and then frowns. “What’s happened?”

“We’ll chat later, let’s go,” Catherine says, pulling Maria closer. Cathy nods, pulling them all into a summoning circle, and just before anyone can attack the party, the four vanish in a great burst of light.

When Catherine can see again, she finds that she’s in the safehouse.

Catherine smiles gratefully at her goddaughter. “What did you two find?”

“Oh! A lot of things, actually,” Cathy says with a nod. “We figured out some movements against Holbein that Anna will be very interested in. We’re going to hand them off to her so she can get them to Maggie and Avril. It should hold off the Realm for a few more weeks, at least.”

“We went to my old room and I retrieved some things. They’re burning a lot of my work, so I saved what I could. It should help with Katherine’s teachings and give us all a bit of a refresher on healing magicks.”

“I take it you found Jane?” Cathy asks, raising an eyebrow. Catherine nods.

“We did. She… she’s not well,” Catherine says with a frown. “She’s a Keeper of Necromancy now. Not much that can be done for her while she’s still a Keeper.”

“... what exactly is a Keeper?”

They all look over to find noneother than Anna of Cleves and Anne Boleyn, standing in the back.

Catherine blinks. “How long have you lot been here?”

“Long enough,” Anna replies, raising an eyebrow. “Going AWOL on me, Aragon?”

Catherine looks a bit ashamed. Anne looks over at Elizabeth, who is refusing to meet her mother’s eyes.

“Did you all not trust us or something?” Anne asks.

Maria immediately steps up to defend. “That’s not-”

“I didn’t trust you enough to not kill her if given the chance,” Catherine confirms. “Anna I needed here in case something happened. And I knew you wouldn’t want me to go without more backup than Maria, who I tried to send away before the fight even began, and I knew you would know that I would send Cathy and Elizabeth out of harms way while I tried to find Jane.” Catherine shakes her head. “Couldn’t let you interfere.”

Anne looks at Anna, then at Catherine, then back at Anna.

“Wait, so… she just… hoodwinked all of us, then?” Anne asks. She looks… well, she looks impressed. “I knew I was rubbing off on you. But next time, actually trust us, Catherine. Nothing happened this time, but who knows what could have. You were in enemy territory with not a lot of backup. That’s dangerous, especially being this close to the upcoming festival.”

Catherine nods. “I won’t do it again. I just… needed to know a few things.” She huffs. “Besides, Maria came running back at the precise time I didn’t want her to.”

“You made it too obvious,” Maria grumbles. “You found something, I knew it, so I just waited in the corridor until I heard Jane, then I came in.” Maria tilts her head. “It’s very unlike you to just… deceive everyone, you know.”

Catherine sighs. “I don’t want anyone hurt, and I just wanted to talk. I’m sorry-”

“Save it,” Anne says, “for later. What is this about a Keeper?”

“Right,” Catherine says, nodding seriously before looking at the others. “A Keeper is like a Blessed, but they’re not blessed by the Light. They’re blessed by other things - there’s Keepers of Clericy, Keepers of the Flame, Keepers of the Rivers, Keepers of Life… a lot of things. They’re considered either the best in their fields, or blessed by some deity that gives them the most powerful abilities within that field. Jane was once a Keeper of Clericy, but that’s since gone away. Now, it seems, she’s a Keeper of Necromancy.”

“It’s not her choice, though,” Maria pushes. “There was a Pact?”

Catherine knows what Anne’s about to ask, so she supplies the answer ahead of time: “A Pact is what can make Keepers. Technically, all Blesseds form a Pact with the Light. Other deities can create Pacts as well that gives humans the Keeper status. This is usually signified by an artifact that they use to preform acts-”

“Like your sword?” Anne asks, and Catherine nods.

“Exactly that. For Jane, it’s her staff. It’s very dangerous and very strong. She was able to summon countless shadows and hordes of undead, and I don’t think she broke a sweat.”

“We were almost overwhelmed,” Maria says with a nod. “And YOU certainly would have been if you hadn’t had back up, Catherine.”

Catherine ignores the quip. “I don’t think she made the Pact. I think Henry did. I don’t see Jane risking herself like this, even in the most undercover of schemes.”

“You don’t have to be the person that made the Pact to become a Keeper?” Anne asks. “That’s… annoying.”

“Technically speaking, Maria is a Squire because of you, right?” Cathy asks. “So she was affected by a Pact that she didn’t make. And technically speaking, she’s a Keeper.”

Catherine nods, and Cathy instantly writes it down.

Maria continues. “It’s more common than you think. Sometimes people do it without realizing it. A lot of the best farmers are Keepers, for example, or a smithy that hits the steel in just the right way can be a Keeper too being a Keeper isn’t necessarily for a lifetime, either; it depends on the deity.

Catherine frowns. “Mary lost her Keeper status when she attacked a fellow Blessed. It was transferred instead to Katherine, who can lose it if she doesn’t abide by the rules.”

Anna sighs. “Still doesn’t totally explain what’s happening here, but… it’s a start.”

Catherine looks back at Anne.

“How’s Maggie?”

“She’s far better than just a few hours ago, actually,” Anne nods. “She should be right as rain soon enough. A few days, maybe. I don’t want her pushing herself when she doesn’t have to.”

Catherine agrees. “And Kat?”

“She’s ok. Still sort of resting, not really though. She’s a bit more restless,” Anna replies. “I think we can get her to train a bit more soon, she’ll really like that.”

“Maybe even a spar?” Maria suggests, and Catherine rolls her eyes goodnaturedly.

“Not yet. We should all get some rest now, though.” Catherine motions at the others, who all agree and go towards their bedrooms… save for one. “Anne?”

“I get why you did what you did, but that sort of secrecy… it’s new for you, right?” Anne asks. Catherine nods. “It’s a bit weird, seeing you do what I would have done, but… I don’t hate it. Not all that much, anyways. Just… don’t keep doing it. Everyone trusts you; hell, they’re already not asking questions about why you didn’t trust everyone else this time around. Don’t lose that trust.”

Catherine sighs. “I know. I just… I really needed to talk to Jane. And I don’t think she’d had told us if I wasn’t the one asking the questions. I think the others wouldn’t have known what to ask for - a Pact isn’t exactly the most obvious answer.” She looks up at Anne. “Moving forward, I promise, no more secrets.”

“No, you should have secrets, you deserve to have secrets. Just… don’t keep too many. That’s all.” Anne gives her a little wave. “G’night, Catherine.”

“Good night, Anne.”

Elsewhere, back in the Capitol, Jane Seymour had just appeared.

The woman took a deep breath as she gathered herself, trying to figure out just where she went wrong in that attack. Catherine was scary enough of an enemy, but with her and Maria together…

… well, her plan might actually work.

She stands up, brushes herself off, and puts her staff on her back. She walks through the halls, right to Henry’s room.

“Are they dead?” Henry asks.

“Fat lot of good that Pact of yours did,” Jane mumbles, very much annoyed. “They barely broke a sweat.”

“You didn’t give that much of a fight, clearly,” Henry replies. “You’re still in one peice and you’re not even winded.”

“Didn’t have time,” Jane replies with a shrug. “And I’m still not totally sure what this staff can do…”

“We’ll have other chances, I’m sure,” Henry replies with a sigh. “You’re alive, that’s what counts the most.”

Jane almost smiles.

“Go find Mary. She said she’d need you for something.”

Jane nods quietly, moving back towards the hall. The walk towards Mary’s room is long and dark, the pale moonlight creeping through the windows the only illumination of the evening. She sees the portraits - some old, some new - and she sees the various servants rushing around to attend to Henry’s every whim. She walks as confidently as possible towards her stepdaughter’s room, closing the door behind her and-

“Mum!”

Jane’s eyes go wide at the sound, but she automatically smiles, instantly kneeling down and embracing the rapidly approaching figure.

“Hello, my love.”

Jane hugs Edward tightly as soon as he enters her range, and gives him little kisses all over his face as well. He laughs loudly, trying to both avoid the kisses while hugging her tighter, clearly relieved.

“Father said you were on a dangerous mission,” Edward said. “I’m glad you’re alright now. I was really worried, but Mary said you’d be okay.”

“I’ve been taking care of him while you’ve been away,” Mary explains. “With Liz gone, it fell to me. He’s been nothing but the best.”

“Of course he has, haven’t you?” Jane asks, keeping him as close as possible. He’s still such a young boy… the thought that he almost became the Keeper instead of herself, well, that thought was a bit too much to bear at the moment. She simply holds him closer.

“Is this what you brought me in here for?” Jane asks, picking Henry up as he hugs her more. “Possibly to tell my boy to go to bed because it’s definitely past your bedtime-”

“No, that’s not it,” Mary interrupts. “It’s this.”

Jane stops playing with Edward for a moment to look down. Her bright smile fades when she sees what it is.

“What do we want to do with this?” she asks, frowning.

Mary continues. “It’s part of the preparations for the festival. It’s still a long time away, but our first vendors arrived and we’re expecting the main wave over the next few weeks. We’ll need more defenses.”

“Then get more men?” Jane asks, raising an eyebrow, but Mary shakes her head.

“Not enough to defend here and push towards Holbein,” she explains. “Instead, We’re going to need… a different approach.”

Jane frowns, looking at the plans again. She gently puts Edward down and looks a bit closer…

… only for her eyes to widen.

“I know what you’re thinking-” Mary starts, but Jane cuts in.

“Eddie, please go to bed.” Jane says, voice clearly hiding anger. She’s as serious as can be and Edward knows it. “Please. I’ll be there with you later on.”

Edward simply nods.

“Love you, mum.”

“I love you too, sweetie.” Jane says, though she doesn’t tear her gaze away from Mary.

Mary raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You want… you want me. To raise the dead. To defend the festival?”

“Or the other way around, maybe they push towards Holbein. Maybe those traitors can see their friends and family again.” Mary smirks. “I think Parr would love to see her husband again, right-”

She stops when, suddenly, a bolt of Necrotic energy runs straight through her.

Mary falls to her knees, doubling over, and Jane instantly kneels down next to her, roughly taking her by the chin.

“You listen to me well, Mary,” Jane growls out. Her gaze has a cold anger to it, eyes glowing green. “I will not - I REFUSE - to break more laws of nature than absolutely necessary. Raising the dead for battle in the multitude that you’re asking me to do - it’s not just immoral, it’s potentially catastrophic. The magnitude in which you want me to do this would completely upset the balance of life and death in the Realm. This is nothing short of telling me to destroy the world entirely.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything,” Mary pushes. She suddenly grabs Jane by the throat, hoisting her up in the air, rising to her feet as she does so. Jane at first struggles, but then she calms down, still angry, one hand on the hand Mary has on her throat, angrily glaring from above the girl as she smirks.

“I’m commanding you to.”

And with that, Jane’s had enough.

Jane instantly rips the hand off her throat, ending up on her feet on the ground. She suddenly has wings - wings of bone, of green energy - and she uses them to pulse forward and throw Mary to the ground.

“I am NOT your toy to play around with, Mary,” Jane replies, brushing off some dust before she walks forward. “I am not your thing to control. The faster you understand that, the better.”

Mary narrows her eyes. “You do anything like that to me again, and your son will be-”

But then she screams as Jane literally rips the life out of her.

Jane watches her coldly as her very soul screams in agony, right before it’s put right back into the body. Mary, shaking, catches her breath.

“You’re not a Blessed, truly, now,” Jane says, almost as if she’s examining a specimen. “You are just a scared little girl now. Not even the best in your class. And if you’re going to continue with this - if you’re truly going to try to test me - then you’ll be finished within the week.”

Jane shakes her head, turning away. Mary’s barely caught her breath.

“You don’t know what you’re messing with - or with who,” Jane replies. “You foolish girl.”

“You’re the fool, Jane.”

Jane spins around to find Henry, who narrows his eyes as he presses forward. Instantly, a hand goes to Jane’s head, his hand glowing pink. Jane’s eyes go pink for a moment, and Henry thinks he’s won.

That is, until Jane shakes her head.

Jane backs up, releasing her from the spell, and laughs.

“You can’t seriously think that I’d fall for the magicks I developed, did you, love?” Jane asks, raising an eyebrow.

Henry sighs. “This is very… bold of you, Jane.”

“Because you need to be reminded. Both of you.” she looks down at Mary again for a moment before looking Henry straight in the eye. “You threatened my son, you forced my hand and now you’re treating me like I’m your dog. You and your party will treat me with respect,” she holds out an orb of Necrotic energy, “or it will be the last thing you ever do.”

There’s a standoff between the two - Jane narrows her eyes and Henry keeps his gaze cool, calm and collected. He’s examining her, trying to see if her threat is for real.

He thinks it is.

“I’m sorry for threatening Edward,” Henry replies, voice soft. He looks down, averts his gaze. “I’m sorry for breaking our promise. I won’t do it again.”

Jane watches him carefully. She’s silent as she slowly, surely, releases the ball. It blinks out of existence.

“Do not hurt him again, and start treating me with respect,” Jane repeats herself. “I won’t be warning any of you again.”

“Of course,” Henry says with a bow. Jane leaves a moment later.

Henry watches as he leaves before he looks over at Mary, who is slowly but surely getting up.

“Did you really have to push her that far?” he asks.

“I thought she needed to know her place,” Mary replies, brushing herself off.

“No, that’s clearly you,” Henry growls out. “We need her calm and on our side fully. You’re not helping with that.”

“I thought it didn’t matter because you “knew” that she’d do whatever you asked?” Mary asks, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“She won’t if we don’t make her believe she’s respected,” Henry says, bored in tone. Mary walks with him as they move back towards his room. He turns to face his daughter once he’s at his door. “She’ll fall back in line. A little bit of rebellion isn’t bad - and she’s been undercover for so long, it makes sense that she’s being a little bit more like the others for now.”

“And you think that will fade off with time or something?” Mary asks, tilting her head.

“I think she’s going to be just fine once we continue,” Henry replies. “This little spat means nothing. She’s still mine. The good girl will come around eventually.”

Mary watches him carefully. “You think you still hold her leash, eh?” Mary asks. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Mary bows and walks off to her chambers. Henry sighs, gets into his room, sits on the bed, and waits.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three-

The door opens and, sure enough, the telltale golden blonde hair enters the room.

He simply extends a hand. Jane nods, and she closes the door behind her.

Yes, he thinks. Definitely still his.

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

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