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percy-the-penguin · 3 years

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Together Apart

1/? First installment here we go! Please note: This is the intro and is pretty boring and I’m not a great writer, sorry.

Some of the queens intros are a bit longer then the others, I love all of them though-

I really hope you guys like it

I. Catalina de Aragon

It had been three years since Catalina had been reincarnated. She had originally woken up in a house that was unfamiliar to her. She had been extremely confused as the last thing she remembered was passing away due to Heart Cancer. It had taken some digging but she had eventually found out the house was in her name. It was a nice house, two stories with several rooms and a pool out back. She had spent a while just trying to figure out how things worked. Like her phone. Her phone gave her anxiety and she couldn’t even figure out how it worked. She had even thrown it the first time it rang. It was embarrassing when she thought about it. Luckily she had very little need to use it on a day to day basis. She hadn’t even attempted to figure out how to set up her computer, even after 3 years. She figured out how to use a car after a year and had been quite proud of herself for it. She could do everything she needed to function and had even gotten a job as a receptionist/office assistant at a local church. The technology there was easier than at her house. She still didn’t know much about modern life but she was learning and to the former queen, that’s all that matters.

II. Anne Boleyn

Anne Boleyn had woken up in a small run down apartment, one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and a living room. After two and a half years she had grown to love it. It was small and cozy and she had everything she needed, including life so she really couldn’t complain. The day she had been woken up she had been extremely confused. She had noticed her scar in the mirror and immediately had a flashback. She had been entrawled and entertained by almost everything and had a blast figuring out how everything worked. Granted she still had trouble in the kitchen...she set the toaster on fire every time she used it and barely managed to stop the microwave from exploding when she accidentally left her silverware in it. She thanked god every day for fast food restaurants. And hoodies. She loved those too and always had one on or wrapped around her waist. She had also figured out different hair styles and her go-to was space buns. It had made her giggle the first time because she thought she looked like a frog. She had gotten really into listening to podcasts and music and had even started a history podcast of her own called ‘Beheaded Through the Centuries: A Look at History from the Receiving End of the Blade’. She mostly covered the Tudor era and beheadings. She had been in and out of different waitress/receptionist jobs due to her tendency not to take things seriously and her kitchen problems. She counted herself lucky that her podcast had picked up enough to cover her along with the few poems she wrote on commission. She figured she probably should start looking for a real job though..

III. Jane Seymour

Jane Seymour had been well..surprised to say the least when she had woken up one day in a small house she was unfamiliar with. She had spent about two hours just walking around. Everything was decorated so nicely. There was a beautiful view of a sparkling lake outside her bedroom window and a forest next to her house. The third queen had picked up modern life quite nicely. If she ever had trouble figuring things out she would go to her neighbor who was surprisingly understanding though she doubted they would believe she was the reincarnation of a long dead Queen. She had developed her own sense of style, usually a pastel or white sundress with sandals. She loved talking walks and had gotten the hang of driving pretty quickly. She would walk to the local market for food and anything else she needed once a week and everyone was very friendly. She had even picked up a job at the flower shop near her house. The only thing she would change was..well, she wished she had company. It got lonely especially in the late hours of the day when she was off work, home alone with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company.

IV. Anna of Cleves

Life had been good in the three years the red queen had been reincarnated. She had woken up in a fancy apartment, something she had been quite shocked existed. It was a 2 bedroom, 3 bath apartment with a lovely kitchen and beautiful living room. She was on an upper floor and the view was absolutely stunning at sunrise and sunset. The view was actually what inspired Anna to start painting. She had her own paintings hanging up around the apartment. The fourth queen was able to pick up this life quite easily. Of course, it helped that her riches from her past life had seemingly been transferred to this one. She had no need for a job but she had been taking shifts at an animal shelter near where she lived to keep herself busy. She had discovered what a thrift shop was and frequented one. She had t-shirts from bands she had never heard and loose jeans that were faded. She liked that style though. She often wore a red baseball cap backwards and had taught herself how to use a skateboard. All in all she was living her best life.

V. Katheryn Howard

Katheryn Howard, or ‘Kitty’ as her co-workers referred to her probably took reincarnation better than any of the other queens. She had been ecstatic to say the least when she woke up in a small apartment similar to Anne’s though a bit bigger, with her head attached to her body. The fifth queen was wide eyed and curious about everything and had gotten very attached to a cartoon series called Steven Universe. She picked up modern life well and had been working as a barista at a coffee place near her home for the past two years. She had been a bit shy to try new things as far as food and clothing but eventually figured out a style. Well, many styles. Her outfit was different nearly every day excluding her choker that had a small ‘K’ charm hanging off it. She had nearly passed out from pure joy when a co-worker dyed the ends of her hair pink. She absolutely loved it. Kitty was always curious to learn about new things and make new friends. She loved it in this life.

VI. Catherine Parr

Last but not least, Catherine Parr. Cathy had woken up in a small house, similar to Jane’s but with a worse view and louder neighbors. They had grown accustomed to the noise after three years and found it a happy reminder that they were no longer dead. They were no longer alone. It had taken them a bit to get used to everything around them, honestly. They weren’t as startled by technology as their godmother but they did have trouble with it. But that was okay, even if they got frustrated sometimes. They had learned everything they could about this new world and had found peace in a local bookshop where they would go for hours on end every weekend. The rest of their days were spent either at home or at the library where they worked as a librarian and tutor for young adults. The first time they entered a mall her brain had nearly overloaded. So many sights and new things. They had lost themselves there. They ended up buying a whole wardrobe and some other small things like bandannas and an adorable penguin plush they named Caesar. Their go to outfit was a formal button up shirt with a blue sweater over that and jeans with a pair of black converse or a blue hoodie with black leggings and the aforementioned black converse. Their hair was in the same style every day. Usually a side sweep tied with a bandanna. They loved it. They. That was something else Cathy had learned. There were more than two genders. And more than one sexuality. They had been fascinated by it and the more they researched the more they realized about themselves. Cathy had recently come out to themselves as non binary. They were proud of themselves for getting this far and doing so well in such a new environment.

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

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deana-r · 5 years

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Ageless Artifacts

By deana.r

During the Second World War, the Germans had dropped bombs against Britain as an offensive, resulting in its strategic failure. The area affected by the blitz later on became a site where further historical examinations have been held. Among the debris, a vase had been found, containing several letters that have already been worn from ashes and its own aging nature. The contents of those letters however, shocked the modern world in such a cultural level, that it was eventually immortalized in museums, historical fiction, and other entertainment branches. In our modern day society, it received a higher regard than what it might have gotten during its own time.

Note: Some portions of the artifacts were smudged. The manner of addressing were also on a first name basis, hence the sender was unidentifiable, and the receiver vague.

1936

London, England

Dear Wilson,

I turned nine today! You're still two months older that I am, but at least we're both the same age old, even if it's just for now. How is it in Newbury? Even though I'm all the way here in London, I hope you'll come and visit again! I still have that magnifying glass that you gave me. My little sister loves to play with it. Sometimes, she even asks Emily to play with her when I'm busy with my studies. She came to visit me today, and we played while our parents chatted. Remember Emily? She came around the same time you did a few months ago. I've grown to quite like her. She's pretty and cute. She always loves to bring her dolls around, and she'd never put them down. We're boys, so we like to play with wooden airplanes! At least, that's what my father tells me. He bought me an English war plane as a birthday present. It looks just like the ones from the Great War, with its majestic blue, red and white. My uncle came around today and told his stories to Dianne and I. Apparently, he had fought as a soldier. He was very brave. I couldn't understand why the army had made him spend half of his career in a dress and high-heels. My father once told me that men like that were undeserving to be called that – "men". I wonder what it means to be a man. Do you know Wilson? It seems like I won't be seeing him in a while. I wonder where he's leaving to. I hope it won't be long. Wilson, today was the first time I saw him leave without my father bidding him a goodbye. Father never forgets to say goodbye. Now, he's just staring at him with a frown. I hope they're not fighting.

Sinserely, (sorry if it's incorrect. I'm still working on my spelling)

Dianne and I

II.

1940

London, England

Dear Wilson,

I'm still thinking about you every day. Dianne is looking forward to those strawberry tarts that you gave us during my thirteenth birthday. I remember my father had told me I'd finally become a man that day. Also, I've heard several stories about our childhood friend, Emily. It seems she's stopped her obsession with dolls and now moved on to fencing. Strange isn't it? A woman who fences. It's just as strange as a man who likes other men. At least, that's what my father tells me. Wilson, I still don't know what it takes to become a man. Do you need to be fearless and buff? Collect a hundred types of airplane models, and wish to serve the army? Because I don't. Yet, my father demands that I join the Royal Air Force by the time I turn fifteen. Wilson, I'm afraid that I won't be the man that my father wants me to be.

With much concern,

III.

1941

London, England

Dear Wilson, Today, my classmates called me a "Nancy Boy". I didn't know what it meant, but I figured it was because of the poems that one of the boys found in my notebook. Lately, I've been writing a lot of those. It seems to be the only way I could truly express my emotions, because it's as if no one wants to lend an ear considering that I'm a boy. But Wilson, I want to thank you for listening to me. Truly, you are my best friend. I feel quite troubled though. I sent letters to my uncle – to his prison. Do you think he received them? He hasn't replied for quite a while. I hope he isn't too lonely. I found the picture locket that he gave me a few years ago. There was a picture of himself and another man, and now I've many questions yet to be answered. Anyway, how is it in Newbury? I'm a tad worried for you, because my father told me as of late that it was only a matter of time until the Germans come again. Do you think we'll win the war? The clouds are darker than they usually are.

Sincerest wishes,

Your childhood friend

IV.

1942

Lincolnshire, England

Dear Wilson,

I lost the end of the bargain. I've become a soldier. I was finally able to ask my Uncle some questions, and he told me to hide. I didn't understand what he meant until my first few days. It's just as what my Uncle had told me before he went to prison. There were men cladded in women's clothing, serving as entertainment for the fighting men. It seemed as if that was all they were told to do, as if that was all they were meant to do for the war – get laughed at. I couldn't tolerate the sight. They were the men who wanted to fight, to win, to gain victory for Britain, and yet, the authorities wouldn't let them. So what if they were queer? Wilson, I didn't understand why I needed to hide, but now it seems clear. This is all a load of rubbish. A man from my flight had been made fun of by one of our soldiers, and now that he had been caught, he's bound to serve the army the way he never expected, nor wanted. Why must they assume that a man's sexuality determines their bravery on the battlefield? I know for a solid fact that I don't deserve to be treated this unfairly, to only be imprisoned right after like my uncle, who had risked his life in the first war along with all the other fighting men. The law is terrible.

Wilson, I've been a coward, but please abide by this request. Hide my letters in a place where no one would dare look – hide them somewhere safe. If anyone were to discover my writings, only God knows what they'll do to me next. I do not wish to stop writing to you, and I do miss you painfully, but this may be my last letter. There are still many things I have yet to say to you, but at a time in the skies, it's either fall of fly. If I live by the last dire moment, I promise I'll tell you the truth. If I don't, well, pray that I do. I can't say my final goodbye without seeing your face one last time.

With much hope,

my life.

Note: it was later on discovered that remnants of the letters have been found inside a burnt suitcase. The location was several miles west from the blitz, where a train had been bombed as well, resulting in the death of all passengers. Traces identified that the letters were connected with the ones prior, despite the Artifacts' critically damaged state.

1942

Lincolnshire, England

Dear Wilson,

I miss the old days when you, Emily and I would run through the willow swept bridges above the river – our reflections, we used to smile at. Dianne misses it too. I... miss you too. Wilson, I know this might sound like it came out of the blue, but is it true? I heard that you're getting engaged with Emily, and that the both of you shall be wed by the time you turn eighteen. Do you love her? Wilson, there's still some things that I am unsure of, but by the time I've fit the puzzles in my head, please don't slip away from me yet. How do I explain? I suppose, I've never really liked airplanes. I've only liked being with you, and if you liked airplanes, I wanted to also do the same. How do I explain this feeling? It's quite difficult to comprehend. Whatever it is, I'm sure my father won't tolerate it. He may even hate me for it. I hope you won't. Dare I say, I hope you feel otherwise, the way I so passionately feel for you. Forgive me Wilson, but I- (the following words were smudged).

Truthfully,

Your Best friend

VI.

1943

Lincolnshire, England

Wilson,

Please, please reply to me as soon as you can. I must know that you are safe. I hear Newbury had been bombed from the skies – the Germans really did come again. Please Wilson, if you had passed first before me, I'd never feel deserving to live. Please, Wilson. Please give me another chance to see you. Didn't I promise that I'd return? I can't be too late. Wilson, I wished I could have told you everything from the beginning. Although we've known each other since we were children, I can't bear the notion that this is it. I'm so sorry that I was too late.

VII.

1943

Lincolnshire, England

Dear Wilson,

I heard your family was able to escape. Once you've received this letter, maybe the rest might have been burnt to dust. Maybe that would have been for the best, but Wilson, always keep this secret close to your heart. My uncle... he had told me to hide who I am, because we are - (the following words were incoherent), but we're also very beautiful people, Wilson. I know this to be true because my Uncle has always been kind, but many people can't understand what's there, because they only judge from so far. Remember the magnifying glass that you gave me? I wished so badly that they'd have those for eyes. There was this soldier who called me a "fruitcake", but I know he didn't mean anything sweet. I've been used for a year, Wilson, and I'm very tired of it. I'm tired of being thought of as weak, and I'm tired of waiting for the war to end, knowing that our very own British soldiers were going to persecute us by that time comes. The next time you see me, I don't want to be sleeping behind cold metal bars. I want to be with you and Emily, someplace safe and happy. Will you promise me that you'll do just that? Will you promise me you'll live happily? It's just like the airplanes. I won't until you'll be.

Sincerely,

R. C.

VIII.

1945

Newport, England

Dear Wilson,

I'm spending my birthday alone, and it only reminds me of how much I miss you. I still hold my uncle's picture locket dearly, and although his stories depicted sorrows until his last breath, I truly believe that his ghost was delivered happily to heaven. Just like him Wilson, I long for the day we find that happiness. That's all I've ever wanted. As long as I am able to stay by you, Emily and Dianne, there isn't anything else that I could ever ask for. Dianne, my beloved sister... I miss her, Wilson. I really do. I wish I could be there for her in London, but I cannot return home. Ever since I ran away from the station in Lincolnshire, I promised myself that I wouldn't ever look back. The skies are clearing though. Maybe my mind will too. My father said I was an abomination, and that I should have sacrificed my life in the skies like a noble man, but I know for sure that God loves me, and that it wasn't his plan. Because now, I've found a reason why I continue to live. The war is going to end soon, and by that time comes, I would have already ended my own. Thank you for everything. You know Wilson, there are many things that I find beautiful in this world. The way the sun glistens through ash-stained clouds, the way grass shines silver linings after a storm has gone, or the way your laughter sends earthquakes in my heart — you might think I jest, but it is true. I don't know when, but I know we'll meet again. Take care on that train Wilson, and take care of the child in Emily's womb. I wish you the best of all God's blessings, and I constantly pray for your safe arrival.

Adieu Wilson.

Yours forever,

I love you

(P.S. I'm sorry I never told you)

Note: after the bombing of the train, further examination has shown that the burnt suitcase in which the last four letters were found in, contained a photograph placed in between the pages of the owner's notebook. The face was slightly blurry, but seemed to be faintly smiling. The background was faded, yet it gave a bright memoir. The young man in the photo looked like an apparition from a far distance, but he still looked vividly alive. It was assumed that the subject in the photo was the unknown sender, the one Wilson had treasured the most.

#ww2 #short story #commentbelow #lgbtq #history

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