Just letting everyone know that I’m retiring this account. As much as I still love Six it’s not what I want to write about anymore. I will not be deleting this account so everything will still be here for you to read if you want to. I have a new account if anyone is interested. It will probably be a bit more chaotic with different fandoms and random thoughts as well as some info dumping. I hope you understand why I’m doing this and I’m sorry for anyone who’s been waiting for me to come back here.
my new account is @millietheautistic
This will visually remove your deadname from any webpage. Obviously switch it off if your parents wanna check up on your work, but yee here's the link fam!!!! BOOST THIS!!! SEND THIS TO ANY TRANS PERSON YOU KNOW WHO WILL NEED THIS
An easy to use Google Chrome plugin to automatically remove and replace deadnames
I’m so so so sorry this took so long. Life got in the way but I do plan on getting through all the prompts in my inbox.
Prompt: I’ve had enough.
“I’m leaving the show.” Anne suddenly announced at dinner one evening.
“What?”
“You can’t.”
“Why?”
Along with half a dozen other questions were hurled at her.
“I just can’t do it anymore.” She told them.
“Did something happen?” Anna asked.
“Did someone say something to you? Because I will beat the shit out of them if they did.” Bessie added.
“No. No one said anything. I just need a change, plus it’ll be nice to have more time with Izzy.” Anne did her best to sound convincing but Bessie didn’t buy it.
Truth be told someone had said something. In fact a lot of people had been saying a lot of things. Things like;
“I love the show but why is Anne so hyper all the time?” And, “ten quid says Boleyn has ADHD.”
Unsurprisingly it had only gotten worse since she had adopted Izzy. She didn’t talk about Izzy much on social media or in interviews but it was difficult to drop her daughter off at school without someone recognising her.
“Who thought is was a good idea to let Anne have a kid? She can barely keep herself alive.” And so on. She knew they were just strangers on the internet but it still hurt. The worst one was perhaps this, “Wait until the kid realises she just a replacement for Elizabeth.”
Anne felt sick reading that one. Is that really what people thought? Is that what Izzy would think?
“Anne?” Aragon asked one morning, sitting beside Anne in the backyard, “What made you want to leave the show?”
“I told you,” Anne huffed, “I’m ready for something new.”
“I know that’s what you said but-“
“You think I’m lying?” Anne finished.
“It’s just you always have so much fun out there.” Aragon reminded her.
“Yeah, because there’s nothing more fun than singing and dancing about my own death and there’s nothing better than watching my baby cousin relive a heap of trauma. So much fun.” Anne’s sarcasm was missing it’s usually light and humorous tone. Instead it was sharp and angry. Aragon sighed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much it got to you.”
“No, you didn’t, because I’m not allowed to let people know how much it fucking hurts.” Anne snapped before storming into the house.
Maybe they were right. Maybe she was too immature to raise a kid. Maybe Izzy would grow up to resent her. What if she already did?
“Annie,” Katherine said gently, snapping her cousin out of her thoughts, “Catherine told me what you said. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t apologise,” Anne told her firmly, “You have every right to share your story and it’s not your fault that I find it hard to listen to.”
“Is that why you’re leaving?” Katherine asked, “because of me?”
“No. I’m leaving because it’s time for me to stop. I’ve told my story. I’ve dealt with it. I have nothing more to gain from the show.” Anne lied, though she hoped her cousin couldn’t tell.
Over the following days everyone attempted to convince Anne to stay but none succeeded. It wasn’t until two weeks later that Anne finally came clean.
“You want to know why I’m leaving?” She asked during yet another awkward dinner, “It’s because I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being the ditzy gremlin, I’ve had enough of people thinking I can’t look after myself and I’ve had enough of people saying I’m not responsible or mature enough to look after Izzy. I thought people would realise it was just a persona but they haven’t. I’ve gone from being an evil temptress to being an unfocused, hyper child in an adults body. I can’t do this anymore.” When Anne finished she was breathing heavily and Katherine noticed the subtle signs that her cousin was close to crying.
“None of us see you like that.” Jane eventually broke the stunned silence that had fallen over the room.
“We’ve seen how smart and witty you are. We know you’re not immature.” Anna added.
“But they don’t,” Anne’s voice cracked slightly, “I know we always talk about how it doesn’t matter anymore what other people think and maybe it doesn’t but just because I know it doesn’t matter doesn’t mean I believe it. The last time someone thought I wasn’t good enough I was killed. It’s not as easy as just accepting it and moving on.” Once again the room was silent.
“Come on,” Katherine said gently after a few moments, “Let’s go upstairs.” Gently she lead Anne up the stairs and into the their bedroom. Only for Anne to fall apart the moment the door was shut.
Back in the kitchen the atmosphere was heavy.
“Good thing Izzy’s with Maggie and Joan.” Bessie broke the silence.
“What do we do now?” Cathy asked.
“I don’t know.” Aragon sighed.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Jane said, “Anne needs to do what feels right for her and we need to do what feels right for us.”
It was clear that Anne hadn’t been feeling well the last few days. She hadn’t been sleeping and her appetite seemed to have vanished.
“You’re very pale,” Kitty observed one evening, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” Anne said sharply.
“Hey, there’s no need to be rude.” Aragon told the younger woman who simply rolled her eyes.
“Leave her alone,” Jane said as she set the table, “She’s not well.”
“I said I’m fine.” Anne repeated. Dinner started off as a fairly quiet affair with everyone talking about their day and what movie they were going to watch that night.
“Anne,” Cleves spoke quietly so as not to draw attention to the woman beside her, “You’re not eating.”
“I’m full.” Anne shrugged, sinking down in her seat.
“Did you eat lunch today?” Cleves asked.
“I’m not hungry, okay? What’s your problem?” Anne snapped for the second time that evening. “I’m going to bed.” She sighed before running upstairs. Katherine went to follow but Aragon stopped her.
“Give her some space.”
A few moments later they heard the shower turn on.
“I’m going to check on her.” Katherine said after the shower had been running for almost two hours. There were a few protests from the others but she ignored them.
“Annie?” Katherine knocked on the bathroom door, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Anne called through the door.
“Because we’re worried about you. When was the last time you ate something?”
“How should I know? Just leave me alone.” Katherine sighed.
“Alright,” Katherine agreed, “but when you get out of the shower we’re going to talk about this.”
“Whatever.”
It was almost another hour before Anne finally emerged from the bathroom to find Katherine waiting for her in their room.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Katherine asked her cousin.
“Not really.” Anne said as she crawled into bed.
Katherine considered fighting it out of her cousin but Anne looked so miserable that Katherine decided it wasn’t worth it.
In the end Katherine didn’t need to wrestle it out of Anne. She found out when she went to have a shower later the night. The small amounts of blood on Anne’s wash cloth and towel gave it away.
“It’s alright to not feel good when you’ve got your period you know.” Katherine said as she curled up beside Anne.
“What gave it away? Was it the stench of vomit or the blood?” Anne asked, to exhausted to deny it.
“The blood,” Katherine said, “are you sure you’re alright? I don’t think periods are supposed to cause vomiting.”
“It’s blood, Kitty, that’s what happens,” Anne sighed, rolling over to face her cousin, “Every time, doesn’t matter where it’s from.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.” Katherine knew her cousin was squeamish when it came to blood but she never realised the nausea extended to period blood.
“Does this happen every month?” Anne nodded, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you want people to know that you can’t even change a pad without being sick?” Anne asked, a bit of her usual attitude evident.
“No, but everyone’s worried about you. You haven’t been eating or-“
“What’s the point when it’s just going to come right back up?”
“Maybe we can find a way for you to not have to see the blood?” Katherine suggested.
“Kitty, sweetie, I appreciate that you want to help but this is something I have to deal with alone.” Anne said gently, tucking some stray hairs behind Katherine’s ear.
“No, you don’t. You don’t have to do anything alone. Not anymore.”
I’ve lost two family members to cancer in the last three months and I needed a way to try and process it. I’m hoping writing will help me.
TW: Death, Cancer, Sickness
When Cathy first complained of a headache no one thought much of it.
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” Catherine asked her.
“I’ve told you not to spend all day in front of your laptop.” Jane said.
“Maybe you need stronger glasses?” Anne suggested.
No one expected it to be cancer.
After months in and out of hospital there was nothing more that could be done and Cathy was sent home.
The last few weeks were the worst. Not knowing how much longer they had with her. Izzy spent most days curled up beside Cathy. She would tell her stories and, when she was sure no one else would hear, she would sing to her.
At first Cathy would try to engage in conversations but as time wore on it became harder to communicate. Her mouth refused to cooperate and she was stuck with a million unsaid words flying around her head.
As it became clear that time was running out nobody seemed willing to leave Cathy’s side and so the group spent every waking hour huddled around the bed doing their best to comfort the young woman and at night they would curl up on top of the mounds of pillows and blankets they had made on Cathy’s floor. Izzy never moved from her spot curled beneath Cathy’s arm.
Despite knowing that it was inevitable nothing prepared them for waking up that morning to find their friend gone. Izzy, it seemed, had been awake for a little while and had her arms wrapped tightly around the slowly cooling body.
It was as if there was suddenly no air in the room. It felt as though it were freezing and yet somehow their skin felt like it was on fire. No one said anything.
Kitty was the first to join Izzy on the bed, taking one of Cathy’s hands in her’s. Anne followed, laying down beside Izzy and holding her close. It wasn’t long before they were all curled up on the bed, holding one another in silence as they each tried to come to terms with what this meant.
It was Izzy who spoke first that morning. Three simple words that said what they were all thinking.
“It’s not fair.”
And it wasn’t. It wasn’t fair that someone so young was gone. It wasn’t fair that a family who had already lost so much was once again grieving the loss of someone they loved. It wasn’t fair that, of all the people on earth, it was Cathy that had died. And it certainly wasn’t fair that she had faced such a slow, drawn out death.
I haven’t written anything this long in ages. I started writing it in February and had planned on posting it in May. Better late than never.
TW: Mentions of death, Panic attacks, mentions of blood, mentions of self harm, mentions of hospitals (Let me know if I left anything out)
Lockdown had been alright at first. Everyone was grateful for a break from the show and Izzy was loving not having to leave the house. However, as May approached Izzy noticed that everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells. It took her longer than she’d like to admit to realise why.
Anne had become rather distant in a very short amount of time and it was beginning to frighten Izzy.
“Kitty?” Izzy asked, peeking her head through the half closed door. Kitty was curled up in bed reading but promptly closed the book.
“Hey,” she said, gently patting the bed next to her, “What’s up?” Izzy swallowed nervously before answering.
“I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help mum?” Izzy kept her eyes on her hands, “I know it’s not something I can understand but I don’t like seeing you guys upset like this.” Katherine sighed, pulling Izzy in for a hug.
“I know, sweetheart, It’s hard to see the people you love hurting but Annie’s going to be okay,” Kitty assured her, “I don’t know what Anne needs right now, only she knows, but last year she wanted to be alone for a few days. Maggie managed to convince her to eat but apart from that she didn’t do much. She spent a lot of time in the garden though. Maybe you could if you could sit with her? Does that sound good?” Izzy gave a small nod.
“Yeah.” The two of them sat in silence for a little while until Izzy spoke again, “I’m scared,” She said quietly, “What if she hurts herself?” Katherine wondered how best to respond, eventually she said.
“Then we help her.”
“What if she doesn’t let us?” Izzy asked, she was beginning to panic, “What if she hurts herself and doesn’t let us help and she gets sick like Bessie did?” Katherine could feel Izzy trembling in her arms, although she didn’t know whether it was from the thought of her mother getting hurt or the memories of Bessie in hospital after a cut on her arm became septic.
“We won’t let that happen,” Kitty said, “Not again. What happened to Bessie was horrible but we know what to look for now. Anne’s going to be alright, all we can do is let her grieve.”
On the seventeenth of May Izzy was woken when she felt Anne getting out of bed.
“What time is it?” Izzy asked, half asleep.
“Early,” Anne said gently, tucking the blankets tight around her, “Go back to sleep.” Even in her half asleep state Izzy could hear the pain in Anne’s voice.
“Maman?” Izzy said as Anne opened the bedroom door, “je t'aime.” I love you
“je t'aime, aussi, petit.” I love you, too, little one Anne replied before leaving.
Sure enough when Izzy got up a few hours later she saw her mother sitting on the back porch. Maggie was sitting with her, one arm around her shoulders and the other holding her hand.
“She’ll be alright,” Jane promised as she rested a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, “Are you hungry?” Izzy just shrugged, she wasn’t particularly hungry and she would have been happy not to eat but she doubted Jane would allow that and so she followed Jane into the kitchen. As she was eating Catherine entered the room.
“Is Anne alright?” She asked, “Her death day isn’t for another two days.”
“George was killed today.” Joan said from where she sat next to Izzy.
“Oh, I didn’t realise.” Catherine mentally kicked herself for forgetting.
“Will it be worse?” Izzy asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” Joan asked
“Will the nineteenth be worse than today or will it be the same?” Izzy asked again.
“Worse,” Joan said sadly, “Death days are-”
“Joan, stop,” Jane interrupted her, “She doesn’t need to know.”
“Surely it’s better that she finds out now so she knows what to expect.” Joan argued.
“Joan’s right, Jane,” Catherine agreed, “She needs time to prepare herself.”
“Alright.” Jane gave in, she could see where the others were coming from but she had wanted to shield Izzy for as long as possible.
“Death days,” Joan continued, “Are more than just anniversaries. Yes, the memories are particularly painful on the anniversary but, and I don’t know why, they are also physically painful,” She did her best to explain, “For some reason we relive our deaths-”
“But Kitty said she would be okay.” Izzy whimpered.
“No, no, not like that,” Joan assured her, “It just feels like it’s happening again. Anne’s going to be in a lot of pain. I know you’re going to want to be with her but It might be best if you stay downstairs, alright?” Joan said, “Maggie, Kitty and I will stay with her and everyone’s going to be doing what they can to help.”
“Except me.” Izzy muttered.
“I know it’s hard to feel like you can’t help,” Jane said gently, “But if I know Anne the last thing she’s going to want on thursday is for you to see her in pain.”
“What if I keep my eyes shut?” Izzy suggested.
“No, love, that’s not quite what I meant.”
Maggie sighed when Anne shrugged off the blanket she had tried to wrap her in.
“Anne, please, it’s cold.” Maggie felt as though she were talking to a wall. Anne showed no sign that she had heard Maggie as she continued to stare into space. They had been sitting in the same spot for nearly ten hours and it was beginning to get dark.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Maggie tried, but still no response, “Please, Annie,” Maggie begged, “You’re shaking, we need to go inside.”
“He loved the stars,” Anne mused to herself, “We used to sneak out at night and make up our own constellations.” Maggie felt herself relax slightly, talking was a good sign.
“Why don’t we go get ready for bed,” Maggie suggested, “We can borrow Izzy’s star light.” Izzy had a nightlight that projected stars onto the ceiling and walls. Anne didn’t say anything, simply closing her eyes for a moment before standing up and walking inside.
Izzy sat up when she heard the backdoor slide open, she was about to get up when Kitty put a hand on her arm.
“Leave them, Maggie’s with her,” Kitty told Izzy, “She’ll be alright.”
“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” Izzy asked, reluctantly settling back down beside Katherine. The two of them had relocated to Anna and Bessie’s room temporarily, Anna having moved into Bessie’s bed for the duration of their stay.
“She’s going to be scared,” Katherine admitted, remembering the previous year, “She’ll probably stay upstairs all day.”
“Can I see her?”
“Maybe,” Kitty said, “We’ll see how she is. She might not know where she is.”
“You mean she’s going to think she’s in the tower?” Katherine nodded, “Does that mean she won’t know who I am?” Izzy asked as she tried to hold back tears.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Kitty wrapped Izzy in a tight embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “I don’t know.”
The next day Izzy did her best to focus on her homework. However, the task was made somewhat harder when she could hear her mother crying in the next room. Anna tried to convince her to go downstairs but she refused.
Izzy jumped slightly when she heard a knock on her door.
“Izzy?” Katherine quietly entered the room, “I talked to Maggie and she thinks we should be alright to see Anne.”
“When?” Izzy’s eyes widened with a mix of emotions ranging from excitement to fear.
“Now, if you’d like.” Kitty held her hand out for Izzy to take.
“Maman?” Izzy said quietly as they entered the bedroom. Anne was sitting on the bed picking at the skin on her knuckles when she looked up. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat and she held her arms open. Izzy rushed to her, not minding the tears she could feel dripping down the back of her neck.
“Oh, ma précieuse fille,” my precious girl, Anne murmured gently, “Je t'aime tellement chérie,” I love you so much sweetheart. It wasn’t unusual for Anne to speak french with Izzy. Although, Maggie and Kitty couldn’t help but feel as though something were slightly off.
“N'oublie jamais combien je t'aime.” Never, forget how much I love you. Maggie and Katherine shared a look as they realised what was happening.
“Je ne veux pas, maman.” I won’t, mum Izzy assured her, “Tout ira bien.” Everything will be alright.
“Je suis tellement fière de toi, Elizabeth.” I’m so proud of you, Elizabeth. If Izzy was thrown by the realisation that Anne thought she was Elixabeth she didn’t show it. Insead, she held her mother as tight as she could.
“Are you alright?” Katherine asked Izzy after they had left.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Izzy nodded.
“We didn’t know that would happen,” Katherine told her, “It must have been hard.” Izzy shrugged.
“I was surprised at first but then I remembered what you said about her thinking she was in the tower and then it was nice. She thought I was her daughter, maybe she sees me as her daughter and just didn’t know who I was and so assumed I was Elizabeth,” Izzy’s shoulders sunk when Katherine didn’t respond, “I know it’s probably just wishful thinking.” she added.
“No, I don’t think it is,” Kitty said, “It makes sense, and it explains what happened last year.”
“What happened last year?” Izzy asked, intrigued.
“She thought I was George, I wonder if it was because she knew we were family or if, perhaps, I remind her of him.”
Izzy didn’t sleep much that night. She was too worried about what was to come the following day. Her fear turned out to be true when she was woken early in the morning by screams coming from upstairs.
“Stay here,” Katherine said firmly as she jumped out of bed, “Anna?”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t go upstairs.” Anna nodded. Izzy watched as Katherine hurried out of the room, she could hear her footsteps as she ran up the stairs. On an ordinary day Jane would be telling her to walk, but this wasn’t an ordinary day.
“What do you think is happening?” Izzy asked, legs bouncing.
“I’m not sure.” Anna told her.
“Joan said that she can feel it happening again.” Izzy said softly, Anna just nodded.
As the day went Izzy realised that, when it came to death days, her family was a well oiled machine. Jane and Maria took care of the cooking, Joan and Kitty helped Maggie look after Anne, Catherine and Anna were standing by in case anyone needed assistance.and Bessie and Cathy were relaying messages between the groups.
This left Izzy alone.
Usually Izzy enjoyed being alone but today all she could think about was her mother. She was grateful that the screaming hadn’t lasted very long. However, it had been followed by loud, choking sobs that Izzy swore were shaking the house.
“It’s alright, you’re safe.” Katherine promised as she held her cousin close.
“Please, Kitty, it hurts.” Anne sobbed as she fought to free arms from Katherine’s embrace.
“Shh, I know, but scratching will only make it worse.” Maggie and Joan watched on as Anne continued to squirm in her cousin's arms.
“Annie,” Maggie said gently as she knelt beside the two women, “I promise, you’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
“Make it stop.” Anne begged as she slammed her head into Katherine’s shoulder.
“Hey, hey,” Joan jumped in, placing a pillow between Anne and Kitty to prevent Anne injuring herself, “Just breathe, alright? I know it’s hard, but you need to breathe.” Joan knew how stupid she sounded but it was all she could think of. Unbeknownst to the queens, Izzy had crept upstairs and was now watching through a crack in the door.
“It’s my fault,” Anne sobbed into the pillow, her voice muffled, “It’s my fault. I killed my brother.”
“No,” Maggie said firmly, “Henry killed George. None of what happened is your fault.”
“I left Elizabeth alone with him.”
“No, that’s not true.” Maggie promised, she could see Anne was beginning to panic.
“I need to let her go.” Kitty said, Anne's breathing was becoming rapid and shallow.
“You can’t,” Joan’s eyes darted between the three women, “She’ll tear herself to shreds.”
“If I keep trying to hold her like this one of us is going to get hurt.” Katherine insisted.
“Can you hold her differently?” Joan asked.
“That’s not the point,” Kitty told her, “She doesn’t want to be held, so no matter what she’s going to struggle.”
“Kitty’s right,” Maggie said, “Let her go, but be ready to grab her hands if she tries to scratch.” Kathrine nodded before loosening her grip on Anne, allowing the woman to slip free. Izzy watched as her mother immediately flattened herself against the headboard. She could feel tears filling her eyes. She knew they were just trying to help but she also understood how terrifying it was to be restrained during a panic attack.
Maggie took a step towards Anne but stopped when she saw her flinch. Every fibre of Izzy’s being was screaming at them to give Anne some space, but she knew she’d be in trouble if she were caught and so she stayed quiet.
It took a few days for Anne to return to her usual self. It was almost a week before Izzy let on that she had been watching.
“I wanted to yell at them to let you go,” Izzy admitted to Anne one evening, “You looked so scared.”
“I know,” Anne said, “But had asked them to hold me. Last year I wouldn’t let them touch me and I scratch open my scar. I didn’t want to do that again.”
“I’m sorry,” Izzy’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “I didn’t know.”
“I know, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“That’s what Jane said.” Anne gave her a small smile.
“In all the years I’ve known her she’s always had a knack for knowing what people want,” Anne said, “But don’t tell her I said that. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Izzy laughed a little at that.
“Is that why she’s so good at giving presents?”
“Probably,” Anne nodded, “That or we’re all just really predictable.”
June 14 2020 - Students at Jefferson High School in Portland tore down the Thomas Jefferson statue in front of their school. Thomas Jefferson wrote “All men are created equal“ in the US declaration of Independence, but he was a life-long slave owner who enslaved over 600 people throughout his lifetime. [video]
“Izzy!” Jane called up the stairs, “it’s quarter to 9!”
“I know!” Came the shouted reply, quickly followed by the sound of a door opening.
“You’re cutting it pretty close, that’s all.” Jane told her as she rushed past.
“It’s not like I’m actually learning anything.” Izzy shrugged as she opened the laptop. School was hard enough in person but online classes were hell.
“Maybe if you sat at the table instead of curling up on the lounge you’d find it easier to focus.” Catherine suggested from where she was sitting working on a crossword.
“Maybe.” Izzy said as she logged into the classroom, quickly making sure her microphone was muted.
“Look, I’m early.” Izzy held the laptop up for Jane to see.
A few minutes later the class began. Izzy kept her mic muted and chose to type her questions instead.
“Why does Izzy get to have her mic muted?” One boy complained.
“It’s not fair.” Said another.
“Maybe she’s watching tv and doesn’t want to get caught.” Said a girl.
I’m not watching telly Izzy typed.
“I’m sure you’re not, Izzy,” their teacher said, “ However, keeping your microphone off does make it harder for you to participate in class. Would you mind turning it on, please?”
Sure, but there might be some background noise. Izzy switched her mic on and her teacher continued.
“As I was saying, the author-“
“Catherine! I swear to god I’m going to kill you!” The class burst out laughing at the interruption.
“Sorry Ms Morris,” Izzy apologised, “That was my-“
“What is it this time, Anne?!” Catherine yelled back.
“Could you two shut up?! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Joan called through her bedroom door.
“Hold on,” Izzy told her teacher before disappearing from the screen, “If you’re going to fight can you at least be in the same room?!” Izzy yelled up the stairs, “My whole class can hear you!”
“Désolé chérie!” The house fell quiet again, or at least as quiet as a house inhabited by 11 people can be.
“Sorry about that.” Izzy said as she went back to the laptop.
“You know,” Ms Morris said, “maybe you should keep your microphone off.
We all making jokes about Zuko working at the tea shop as firelord, and how humble he is towards his servants. But what if a diplomat from the earth kingdom shows up one day and catches Zuko in a more casual outfit while being ushered through the palace. The diplomat mentions something about how Lee must be very good at making tea if he was sent all the way to the fire nation and asks to be served during the meeting. Not one to turn down an offer Zuko obliges and disappears off into the kitchen. The diplomat sits down at the meeting table, awaiting the arrival of the firelord when his tea arrives. He pours a cup for everyone sat around the table including the firelord. The diplomat inquiries when the firelord will be joining, to which Zuko responds by sitting in the throne at the head of the table.
cant wait for Harry Potter to become public domain in the future and watch people publish retellings of it where every single fucking character is trans just to spite off that dead terf bitch
Earlier this year I was working on a few things but then my grandfather died and two of my uncles became very ill and writing got pushed to the side. I’m starting to go back to those ideas now and am hoping to finish something soon. I honestly don’t know how many people read my stories but for anyone who does enjoy them I’m sorry for the unplanned hiatus and for the poor quality of the stories as I find my footing again.
