#This is because she is assumed to be the wife of France and she was referred to politely as “M'onna” (as in Madonna Lady).)

[coochiequeens]

Womens history just got richer.

When the deeply patriarchal Romans first encountered Celtic tribes living in modern-day France and Great Britain in the first century B.C.E., their reaction to the roles of the sexes was one of surprise and dismay. The tasks of men and women “have been exchanged, in a manner opposite to what obtains among us,” wrote one Roman historian.

New evidence from Celtic graves now confirms that at least one part of Britain was a woman’s world long before the Romans arrived—and for centuries afterward. One ancient British tribe known as the Durotriges based its family structure—and perhaps property inheritance—on kinship between mothers and daughters. Men, meanwhile, left home to live with their wives’ families, a practice known as matrilocality that has never been seen before in European prehistory.

The work, published today in Nature, helps explain why women in Iron Age Britain are often buried with high-status grave goods such as mirrors and even chariots, says Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich archaeologist Carola Metzner-Nebelsick, who was not involved with the research. “It’s a fantastic result,” she says. “It really helps explain the archaeological record.”

Ancient histories—not least Julius Caesar’s 50 B.C.E. account of invading Gaul—hinted at female empowerment among the Celts. “They wrote about it because they found it so weird,” says Trinity College Dublin geneticist Lara Cassidy.

Many modern historians assumed the accounts were exaggerated; they dismissed rich female graves from the time as outliers. But over the past few decades, archaeologists comparing burial practices at hundreds of Iron Age sites from Britain to Germany began to think there was a kernel of truth to the Roman reports.

The Durotriges cemeteries, located in the far south of England near the city of Bournemouth, offered a way for Cassidy and her team to investigate. Burials there began around 100 B.C.E., roughly 150 years before Roman forces invaded the island. Unusually for Iron Age Britain, the tribe didn’t cremate their dead. Instead they buried them close to home, in the hills surrounding their farmsteads.

Whereas men were laid to rest with a joint of meat and perhaps a pot containing a beverage to sustain them on their journey into the afterlife, Durotriges women are often found with elaborate offerings including mirrors, combs, jewelry, and even swords. “If you judge social status by burial goods, then female burials have vastly more than male,” says Bournemouth University archaeologist Miles Russell, a co-author of the new paper.

Over the past 4 years, researchers sequenced DNA from dozens of Durotriges skeletons in a set of cemeteries in Dorset, England. By matching identical fragments of genetic material from different individuals, they reconstructed a family tree that spanned six generations—many of whom were female descendants of a single female founder. Two-thirds of the people in the kin group buried in the cemetery shared a rare type of mitochondrial gene, a form of DNA inherited only from the mother, including some of the men who shared the same female ancestor.

Other genetic evidence from the Durotriges cemeteries pointed to matrilocality, showing that men joined the clan from other families. “Women are staying close to family and are embedded in the support network they’ve known since childhood,” Cassidy notes. “It’s the husband who’s coming in as a stranger and is dependent on the wife’s family.” Women were evidently a force to be reckoned with in this part of Iron Age Britain.

Archaeologists have found that members of Great Britain’s Durotriges tribe often buried women with more grave goods than men.Miles Russell/Bournemouth University

Such patterns could help explain finds elsewhere in the Celtic world, where women were sometimes buried with rich grave goods or even chariots. “We’re thinking this could have been quite widespread,” Cassidy says.

To gather further evidence, she and her colleagues re-examined previously published genomes from more than 150 sites in Britain and Europe stretching back to the Stone Age. Starting around 500 B.C.E., the diversity in people’s mitochondrial DNA declined, the team found, suggesting more of them shared the same female ancestors. There was no matching decline in the diversity of Y chromosomes, which are passed from fathers to sons.

That suggests communities across Britain were anchored by specific female lines, with men marrying in from outside. “The signal they see in [the Durotriges] case study can be reproduced in other British sites,” says Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology archaeogeneticist Joscha Gretzinger, who was not involved with the work. “That’s quite a smoking gun.”

The study is part of a growing use of DNA to reconstruct genetic kinship in the deep past—and use it to shed light on the structure of past societies. University of Liverpool archaeologist Rachel Pope says the research is starting to highlight the wide variety of social organization people practiced in the past, something archaeology has hinted at over the past 2 decades.

Some of the earliest kinship studies using ancient DNA, for example, showed that Stone Age farmers in Britain and France living in the fifth millennium B.C.E. were organized patrilocally, with women leaving their homes to marry while men stayed put. The new data from Durotriges suggest that by the Iron Age, 4000 years later, something had shifted. “This is quite exciting,” Pope says. “There are moments in time in which societies seem to have a lot of high female status.”

[honestlydeeppolice]

Lovely Liza Lady.

Mary Shelly.

I don’t think I’ve posted any of my Ramona art on here lol

She’s my rise interpretation of Mona Lisa she’s a pacific giant salamander but I can’t decide between making her a pirate or the mud dog’s version of april bc the pirate was my original idea but I feel like the mud dog idea would be cool to and if I decide to go with that idea I have big big lore to go w/ it.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I have a question, where would gnc/trans people get their clotges in the days before the selling of premade clothes? I assume some was stealing from relatives, and that soem of them did know how to make clothes, but that doesn't seem at all likely to be the most common method

That is an amazing question!

Unfortunately for a lot of people, we don't really know- many trans folks flew under the radar and as such details of their lives are unclear. Legendary stagecoach driver Charley Parkhurst, for example, left no sort of record as to where he got his clothes (especially since he lived in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for many years of his life). And figures like Mary Jones, a Black trans sex worker from the early 19th century, flit into and out of the pages of history so quickly that there's barely enough info to get their vital statistics, let alone shopping habits.

However, my guesses would be as follows:

Secondhand shops. These have existed for a very long time, and if you already have at least one outfit that makes you read as the correct gender, nobody would question you going through that section of the store/market/whatever.

Sympathetic conventional tailors or dressmakers. This is almost certainly where middle- and upper-class GNC or trans people got their clothing- one can hardly imagine legendary writer George Sand buying her suits secondhand, after all. And since humans have always been human, and Let People Dress How They Please; They Aren't Hurting Anyone is a sentiment I've seen at least as far back as the 19th century, I suspect there were far more of these than many people might think.

Clothing workshops catering to the demimonde- that is, to theatrical companies for costumes, or to sex workers. Certainly this is where drag performers got their stage gear, and one imagines people for whom gender variance crossed the line from performance to identity- like Fanny Park and Stella Boulton -might have turned to their costumers for everyday attire, too. And catering to sex workers probably got all sorts of requests that were seen as outre for the time (in a roleplay capacity- most sex workers dressed conventionally while not actively Doing Sex), but their money was as good as anyone else's.

Friends and relatives. Some families knowingly supported their crossdressing or trans loved ones. Even partners who married the person in question as the binary opposite gender could fall into this category- Lili Elbe (though she lived after premade dresses began to rise in popularity) first experimented with feminine attire in dresses and jewelry loaned by her enthusiastically supportive wife Gerta Gottlieb. In fact, Gottlieb was bisexual, and their marriage was only annulled because Lili was a woman now and same-gender marriage was illegal in Denmark at the time.

Also yes stealing from your relatives was also an option, of course. if they were less than sympathetic

The king of France???? this is the wildcard, and my absolute favorite: the Chevaliere d'Eon, when she transitioned in the 1770s, got the king to not only formally state that she had been assigned female at birth (there had been speculation about her physical sex for years at this point) but to pay for her new wardrobe of gowns. Absolute Queen.

"but didn't her mantua-makers notice Some Physical Things?" she's believed to have had some form of gynecomastia, based on her autopsy, and they'd never have cause to see her in less than her calf-length chemise. if they did see anything, they kept their mouths shut, and rightly so.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

It felt so real.

What - Yearning. Daryl misses you and your family so badly that it seems his imagination is dreaming you up to keep him from going crazy

When - big time jump to when Daryl finds himself in France (spinoff season 1, episode 2)

Where - the school in France

Pronouns - she/her (howdy, wife reader!)

TWs - language, reference to child loss, self-loathing, sappiness (it's fanfiction, y'all XD ) and Daryl gets a little...'excited' (mild instance of sexual arousal between a married couple)

Perspective - Daryl 3rd person POV

References - some are yet unpublished because this is a significant time skip, which means a few little surprises. Others can be found throughout the series!

Series? - the Slowpoke Series! It's a fun, slow time that sticks to canon to help maintain immersion (as much as you can with adding an oc lol) ;)

Can I read this chapter if I haven't started any part of the Slowpoke Series yet? - definitely

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

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

“It's so good to hold you again, sugar.”

Those words, that voice, made him relax into the bed. She was there again! He’d last imagined her when he was being tended to by those nuns, so it was only, what, a handful of days ago?

Wasn’t enough for him, he missed her so much.

“Dare, I want them all. Full stop, every last one.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I knew you’d say that.”

“As if you aren’t wantin’ to take at least a handful. All those kids with just an old woman to care for them…well, now she’s dead, but…” She sighed and held him tighter. “Lou reminds me of Enid. Don’t you think they look similar? M’sorry her name had to be Lou. A lot of things over here are making you homesick, ain’t they? And that poor boy in Maine, named TJ, too.”

He pulled her closer, doing his best to not wake himself up so Y/N would stay with him. He wished that kid, with same name as his oldest, has just gone back to his girlfriend like he'd told him to.

“Our own Louise lights a candle with me for you every day. Those nuns would be proud.”

He swore to himself that whenever these dreams happen, there’s got to be some way it isn’t just all in his head. It was way too real.

It felt so, so real.

But that Louise was lighting candles for him, he knew because Carol told him when she spoke to him briefly over the radio in Maine...

“Did Carol also mention that Lydia’s been drawing you? Or did I write part that in the letter?”

“The letter. Carol and I didn't have much time to say anything.” Y/N wrote him a long, long letter. One part mentioned how both Lydia and Glenn took to getting nightmares again after he left. At Maggie’s suggestion, Lydia had been drawing his picture. Apparently it helps her feel safer.

RJ had been 'retreating more than usual,' also. Adam was acting out, too, so she wrote. If Daryl was figuring it right, the boys losing another father figure probably hadn’t helped.

“Dare, he’s three. Three-year-olds don’t only act out with foster parents, Adam would be doin’ the same with Alden. And RJ is without Michonne right now. That's the greater culprit.”

His wife also wrote how Coco just started calling her ‘mama,’ and correcting her to say ‘auntie’ wasn’t working yet. She chalked it up to her being a motherly figure and the baby assuming all caring ladies were ‘mama.’ He wondered if Gabe knew yet. Ain’t like Y/N hasn’t been a mama to that little girl since Rosita died. Actually, nah, Gabe obviously knew; Y/N would’ve (legit) run to him immediately and told him what was up.

The faces of all their kids ran through his mind over and over, Lydia and Judith and RJ included. Then his wife’s face. Carl. Adam. Hershel. Gracie. Coco. Carol. Ezekiel. Maggie. Rosita. Aaron. Jesus. Jerry. Rick. Merle. T-Dog.

“Oo, I want to be here when T-Dog visits. Has he ever visited?” Y/N chirped.

He wished. “Once. I just think about him a lot.”

“Bummer. He must have been so thrilled when we actually did name our first after him, without you even tellin’ me nothing about how he’d teased you on it! Say, what about Uncle Jesse? Does he visit? He must’ve been happy TJ’s middle name is for him!”

He shook his head. You even visited me before I was smart enough to fall for you. When I fell down the ridge. It was you and Merle.

A sneezing from one of the kids in another part of the building resounded four times. It woke him briefly.

He closed his eyes, focused…

It was okay, Y/N was there. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am a mite surprised you didn’t take the floor anyway,” Y/N admitted, peeking over his side to look at where the nun Isabelle was laying down next to him. “Or share with Laurent so the two sisters could share.”

“Neither of them trust me enough for me to share a room with the boy. And she sounded like she didn’t want me on the floor. Must be that I’m gettin’ too old." All I feel these days is tired and sore. "Hell, I don’t think I could get up if I slept on the floor.”

Angel, I ain’t the same without you, I’m a fucking mess. Look at the shit show that I’ve made of things.

His wife whispered, “Hey. You know I can hear that, I’m from your imagination.”

“Y/N, I miss you so fucking much.” Baby, I’m so goddamned far from you all and I don’t know how I’m gonna get out this time.

“No cusses in front of the kids, Daryl,” She cupped her belly, the one he was imagining she might have again. Carol, when she spoke to him, used what little time there was to mention how Y/N was avoiding taking a test because she missed him too much. Y/N didn’t say nothing about it in her letter she'd packed in there during one of his home visits.

How’s that for a reason to hate yourself?

“You should,” shot back another familiar voice. “Leaving your own kin, leaving your woman. Ain’t you learned nothing, boy? Didn’t think you was that much of a deadbeat but here’s proof the apple didn’t fall far from the tree."

Merle.

Damn, it’d been ages!

"Yup. Nanu nanu," his brother mocked, waving his metal stump and glaring. "Here you are, in the white flag capital of the world, surrounded by Euro kooks instead of your own blood.”

“Oh, Daryl, don’t imagine him as cruel again!" Y/N cooed. "Let us both love you if you’re gonna go about having us here.”

Daryl breathed slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. When he felt level enough, he answered, “I don’t have much control over what y’all say.”

“I thought you had some control over it.” Y/N gently pushed his hair off his face. He loved it when she did that. Delicately, she examined the new scar gracing his forehead.

“I blame that old coot what you let whup you on the head as to why you’re seeing things,” his brother crooned.

His wife nodded. “Another concussion, you poor man. But this isn’t a hallucination, it’s just a dream. It’s that good kind of dream where you’re not fully awake but not fully asleep.” She trailed her hand along his forearm.

“Y/N, you’re too good for this sad sack.”

She fired back faster than Daryl knew his imagination could go. “Merle. You love your brother to death and you’re happy he got hisself a wife and family.” Y/N had pushed herself up to sitting in order to scold him. “Tell me you don’t swell with pride seein’ him be a good father and good husband. The cycle stopped with him, and you’re proud of it.”

Daryl, a hand protectively around his wife’s side, was busy trying to figure out what Merle was even doing, whittling?

Ah, he was eating an peach with the knife attached to his metal stump.

Weird, he thought ghosts didn’t eat.

“Maybe I ain’t a real ghost, retard,” was a blunt comeback. “Maybe I’m just a poor copy you conjured up in that concussed little head of yours.” Merle then turned to Y/N. “As for you, kitten, he left you and your brats! Left you when you was up the duff, left you when you don’t even got all your legs no more! How’s he supposed to protect you when he’s out here?”

“Merle William Dixon! I ain’t ‘kitten’ and those ‘brats’ are your nieces and nephews, dick. Noah’s middle name is even for you, so you best watch your mouth, hear?”

Merle smirked and sliced off another wedge from the peach. “There’s my sister-in-law. I had to make sure your square self at least still had that fire in ya.” He offered her a slice, but she crossed her arms.

The expression on her face was so disappointed it made Daryl’s chest tug.

His brother duly inclined his head in apology and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. Y’all are doing a good job on them brats. And this sumbitch ain’t nothing like our old man, so there’s something.” Merle chopped another piece of fruit. “And it’s always a pleasure to roll with a fellow amputee, Y/N. Not many can relate to how trippy the phantom limb bullshit can get.”

She tilted her head in agreement, rubbed the spot above her prosthetic calf, and settled back down next to her husband with a big sigh. “I do wish Daryl imagined you in a kinder light, Merle, but, either way, I’m happy he watched Mork & Mindy because it got him thinkin’ about you — and now you’re here for him!” Her hand grazed along her bump. “And, you meant to say to him that I was possibly pregnant.”

“Dunno about that, sister, you’ve always seem to know when you been knocked up.”

“That ain’t incorrect,” she confessed, curling in on herself. “Even if I was, it’s possible we had a loss again, Merle. Whether early or late this time.”

“Another reason he shouldn’t be screwin’ around out here.” Merle next words sliced him as if his heart were the peach in his hands. “I'm angry for your own good, lady. What if you had to handle another kid's death, this time on your own?”

The bad memories crashed down like waves threatening to drown him in grief and guilt. He wanted to pummel his brother in the hopes Merle would best him and make him pay for leaving her.

But Merle wasn't actually there. Neither was Y/N. It was pretend. Daryl was just beating himself up in his head, and failing even at that.

Y/N said the words as Daryl thought them: “Why are you twisting the knife?” She swallowed and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe, this mission is w-worth the sacrifice of, of us not havin’ him here right now.”

No. It’s not.

I know you said that before I left to make it hurt less, but it’s not. Listen to your stutter, you know it ain’t.

I should be back there with you, not constantly leaving for weeks at a time. I'm supposed to be home now. I'd told Carol when I reached her on the radio back in Maine that I'd be there in a about a week, which is what she would've told you. This whole thing is horseshit!

“Darlin’, think on happier things or you’ll upset yourself awake or into another nightmare,” Y/N soothed. "You almost woke from anger at Merle just there, which is really just anger at yourself." Her fingers laced into his where his hand rested on her belly. His wish was that his dream would include feeling the baby move. He loved that feeling. Except, he must’ve been waking up because his dream wasn’t letting him feel her hand or her belly very much when he tried. Still, it felt real enough. He’d take what he could get.

“Might could be fun to think back on how beautiful it was making them, if indeed we made another one.” She walked two fingers along his bicep. “Would’ve happened on or around the last night before you left. Or,” she mused, then started to giggle. At that moment, he could even imagine the vibrations of her laughter as if she were really, actually laying beside him. It felt so real! “I wouldn’t be surprised if made them on the day itself, that was soo — oh man, hold up!” She pulled away from him and eyed his crotch in suspicion. “No sex dreams allowed, there’s a bride of Christ in the room! Keep that thing down, deal?”

He almost laughed out loud, and possibly in real life. So long as he didn’t wake up, he didn’t care if he laughed in his sleep. The reactions, the tone, it was all just like his Y/N. And he could hope they had another kid. He’d take as many as came along.

Aw, shit, how far would she even be along, if this one made it? How long had he been away?

“Goddamn, y’all, is this some kinda kink you got?” Merle cut in. “Me and the penguin are still here, you perverts.”

“Oh hush, neither of us are actually here. Him and me aren’t doing nothin’, he just got a little aroused,” Y/N countered. “And to answer your question about another baby, Daryl, I reckon you’ll find out when you come back.” She shrugged. “Unless you reach us on a radio? Eugene is diligent about it, especially now.”

That was another thing she wrote in her letter. Eugene and his radio.

The helplessness crashed back down on him. “I’m tryin’ babe.” He didn’t want to start crying. The nun was next to him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop crying once he started.

Merle jeered, “Try harder, Darylina.”

He was right, Daryl needed to. He needed to try harder! What kind of washed out fuck-up was he?

“Sweetheart,” his wife called softly. Her hand caressed his cheek. It felt so, so real. “Margaret — a woman who knows the pain of losing a husband — trusted this to you because you survive. And I trusted you to go, because you’ve got the brains, the balls, and the grit. You don’t die or get bit, Daryl, no. You always come home.”

Bullshit. Not this time.

“Not bullshit. Yes, this time.” She looked to the window. “Merle, back me up.”

“Based on your track record, she’s right, little brother.”

“You may not believe you can or will,” she lifted herself up on her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. It had to have been real. It felt so, so real. But he was not about to open his eyes to see if by some miracle it was. “Despite how you feel right now, my bet is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

Shit, he was about to break down. “Y/N, maybe I don’t deserve that. You saw the shit-show what got me here.” And there came the tears. “I left you, that’s all there is to this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, that word.” Y/N wasn’t a fan of the word ‘deserve.’ “On that topic, what an honest prayer you said to bless the food! So many times you used ‘deserve,’ ugh, but,” she paused, “God loves honesty like that. Very, very much.”

She kissed his eyelids where the tears were starting to slip out, kissed the scar that never seemed to fade, then settled back against the side of his chest and curled one leg around him. With her hand, she rubbed comforting circles along his torso. “And He don’t punish or withhold, that’s just our fallen world. His hand is always out for you,” she murmured. “Say, how long do you think you can keep up with imaginin’ my theology?”

“Angel, I’m already at my limit. That’s why part of me thinks you’ve gotta be here somehow, some parts of this feel so real. Smart stuff like this ain’t in my head.”

“TJ and Georgia would call out your self-hate if they could hear you. You’d owe them a lot of quarters. Hm, and euros, seeing as you're here.”

His chest tugged at their names. “How are they?”

TJ, their oldest besides Lydia, had long hair like the little French kid here. Just one other thing that ripped at Daryl’s heartstrings to make him ache so bad for home it shocked him that he wasn’t bleeding out.

“They’re as good as gold and better. Just like their father.” That phrase he knew was from his memory because she’d said it before. “All of us miss you like crazy. Postal level.”

You shouldn’t.

“Daryl.” Her hand gripped his. There’s no way it wasn’t real. It felt so real. “When I was broken after Carl's death, and I claimed the same stuff — that you should leave me and TJ, that you needed someone better, that your life would be better if we weren’t a part of it — how much did it rip you up? ’Cause even if I hadn’t told you this before, you would have to understand how it’s tearing my insides to shreds hearin’ you think the same.”

Calm. He had to stay calm or he’d be alone again.

“I’m right,” he whispered.

“I have to disagree.”

“I —” his voice went up. He switched tactics and spoke to his brother. “Merle, talk some sense into her. I failed. This is it, this is—”

“—You did screw shit up like a royal turd, but your lady would rip my danglers off if I went along with your pretty little pity party.”

Believe it or not, the tough love helped. Felt genuine, as if Merle really was shouting some sense into him. It felt so real.

He caught his wife giving Merle an air high-five. “Thank you, Merle.”

In hindsight, Daryl figured it must’ve be because Merle, in Daryl’s imagination, had to raise his metal arm to return the five. He taunted Y/N, “You’re welcome, peg-leg.”

Dream or not, Daryl was fixing to bark, but his wife playfully kicked her own prosthetic and taunted back, “Love you, gimpy.”

His brother was smug. “Square.”

As if Y/N hadn’t heard that before.“Trailer trash.”

As if Merle hadn’t heard that before. “Goody-two shoes.”

“Two shoes? Ahem,” Y/N drawled as prim and proper as a southern belle. “Did we not just establish how I only require but one shoe these days?”

Merle slapped his thigh and cackled like a hyena and Daryl couldn’t help but do the same. Y/N joked about her missing calf like she got paid for it, pirate jokes to no end.

Daryl hadn’t felt this light in months, not even close to it since leaving home.

…And to think, it was all a lie.

All fake.

They weren’t really there. Not his wife, not his dead brother. It was all in his head.

“Oh, my sweet mangy hick. Enough moping and angst, enjoy the moment! Merle and I really did a fair job on our banter just there. And you never know, Merle could really be here, seein’ as he’s dead.”

“Y/N, I even miss bickering with ya, goddamn,” he breathed.

“It is one of our love languages. That reminds me — you’re doing great with the French, Dare!”

She can’t be serious. Or, rather, he himself can’t be serious. “Babe, I ain’t spoken a word of it. The letters don’t matter half the time. I swear, these people sound drunk.”

Merle snickered, “Hell, even I speak better French than him. Voulez vous coucher av—”

“—Well, I meant like when you used the dictionary to translate that conjugated verb.” Her voice had gone down when she said this and it sounded, well…how it usually sounded when she was turned on. “If I were there, the part where I’d push your suspenders off your shoulders would drive me wild…”

Stay calm or you’ll wake up, Daryl.

And you realllly don’t want to start a sex dream with some other chick in the room. A nun!

“Get a room, horndogs. The word was ‘conjugated,’ not ‘conjugal,’” Merle spat. “This is why you got all them kids.”

His wife made one of her signature huffs, but didn’t say nothing back to Merle. Into Daryl’s ear, she sympathized, “Being horny is so annoyin’.”

Ha. Blushing even in his dreams. Part of him wondered if he was cracking up in his sleep, too, but either way, it felt good. Felt real. It felt so, so real. “I don’t even know what ‘conjugated’ means, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, otherwise I wouldn’t say it. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Aw man, why’d she have to nuzzle him in the crook of his neck? He loved it when she did that. Mmm, hot damn it felt so real… “And you know that you doin’ something like conjugating a verb in another language would be sexy to me.”

“I told y’all jackrabbits to keep your britches on. Now, Daryl: ‘conjugate’ is when you make the verb agree grammatically with the subject. You’ve heard that word before,” Merle explained. Seemed out of character. And the room looked strange, there was—it was another room now?

Daryl’s thoughts turned to when Y/N and Rosita would speak Spanish. Listening as Judith helped TJ and RJ with phonics. Watching Georgia sing to baby Louise that song Siddiq had taught her in, what language was it?

“Hey. Dummy,” Merle scoffed. “You’re driftin’ off, sweet boy. Gotta stay a teensy bit lucid if you want us here.”

So that’s why the room had just looked different. He’d been slipping.

“I still don’t get how this happens, which is why I think you’re actually here,” Daryl said to both of them. “Merle, you’re probably in…somewhere in-between.”

“What, I don’t get to be in heaven yet? Y/N, you hearin’ this uppity sumbitch?”

“He still has trouble believing in such things, Merle, especially lately. I prayed for your soul, so I got hope.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Anytime.” Y/N looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Then what about me, dude? I ain’t dead, pinky promise. So, how is it that I come to be here?”

Yeah, he’ll be as sappy as he wants with his wife of ten years. “Maybe you’re dreamin’ about me, too.”

Merle’s kissy noises were interrupted by Daryl firmly telling him to get out after which Y/N smooched him harder than she’d had in his imagination since he’d left America. The smell of her, the sounds she made, the way she would lift her head so he could bury his face in her neck, it all felt so real.

It was when she ran her hand lower down his abdomen and almost reached his you-know-what that it all stopped cold. “Sorry! Aw, shoot — Merle! Get back in here, quick, we got carried away! Well, t-technically it was all you, Dare, but — just, please don’t get a stiffy with a nun in the room!”

“Someone should put that on a shirt,” his brother called.

“Ew, no, Merle! Good Moses, maybe I really should ought to be there if you’re startin’ to imagine messed up t-shirt slogans.” She was only teasing. “Ooh, but if I were really there I could meet little Sister Sylvie! So far, I like her.”

“I knew you would.” Daryl grinned. “The way she is with the boy, she reminds me of you.”

If only you were really here, angel.

Wait, no, I don’t want you here because you wouldn’t be safe. I need you safe.

She brought his hand to her lips. “I know what you meant, sugar.”

Unexpectedly, the nun shifted on the bed, nearly jolting him fully awake.

Slow breaths. Keep your eyes shut, do not open them!

He kept them shut tight and pictured where Y/N had been to try and keep her there.

“What am I, chopped pig’s feet?” Merle grunted.

Daryl relaxed. Merle was still there, and he got back the feeling of Y/N beside him.

“You know,” his wife considered. While she was still there, he was having trouble visualizing her. Was he still close to waking up? “That Sister Isabelle is willin’ to risk sharing a room with a strange American says a lot about how much she’ll give to protect the boy and the others here.”

“Still damn weird she didn’t just share a room, the three of ’em.”

“It is. It’s really weird.” Y/N rested her forehead on his chest. He felt the warmth of her breathing against him. If he focused really hard, he could just about imagine the feel her heartbeat, too. “Maybe she’s fixing to be the first line of defense, with all them other kids livin’ here.”

“Still weird,” he grunted. “Hey, where’d my—” He looked around in his imagination at the room. “Where’d my brother go?”

“Maybe he wanted another peach. Or, maybe you're too close to wakin’ up. Be careful, darling.”

He breathed slowly and kept his eyes locked shut. His frustration was growing. It had felt so real, why was it going away?

Calm. Stay calm so she’ll stay.

“It was also unusual,” Y/N thought, “how Sister Izzy—”

“—Sister Izzy?”

He imagined that her mouth would have twisted in embarrassment. “Yes, I’d probably definitely give her that nickname. You sure know how to portray me realistically.” She started again, “It’s unusual how she didn’t accommodate for your maybe-not-wantin’-to-be-seen-in-the-tub-by-a-nun. By anyone, for that matter. Although,” she reconsidered, “they were nurses who had to change your undies and cauterize your wound, weren’t they?” When he pictured her bottom lip beginning to tremble, he held her closer. “Oh, I hate that they all died but for two! What has this world come to? Why would those men kill them?”

That was something.

The dream got easier to maintain. He felt the curve of her waist. The rise and fall of her chest. It felt real again. It felt so, so real.

Relieved, he didn’t know what to say at first other than, “The water was cloudy enough.” When he was getting treated, bathed, doctored, how hard he wished it was Y/N doing it. Another thing that made him ache, watching them nuns give him medical attention when for the past 12 years it’d almost always been his wife.

He breathed out heavily. “Dunno, when she was in there, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“The habit can have that effect on some. The crucifixes and religious artworks hopefully brought some peace, too.”

“Habit?”

“Nun outfit.”

He tried to hold her even tighter. The way it felt more real than before encouraged him, got him nearly falling off his seat with excitement that he got her back!

Except, the excitement turned into panic that he might lose this moment because he was so happy, as fake as it was.

And it sent him over the edge. Just like that, he was awake. Very awake. And alone. No Y/N, no Merle.

He blinked as the room came into focus.

None of it was real. He’d, he'd known that.

And now he was awake. Lying on some flat, shitty, tiny bed, an ocean away, in a country full of people he didn’t understand, that had walkers who burned you when they touched you, and soldiers who shot up a convent full of nuns who patched up strangers and were only trying to keep a little boy safe.

He didn’t even have his ring anymore. All he had was a snippet on a voice recorder that told the world his name and how badly he'd fucked up.

Daryl turned onto his side, the pain from his burned arm screaming at him, but he didn’t give one flying fuck. Y/N wasn’t there anymore because his stupid ass had woken up! He’d earned the pain, he needed it, he deserved it.

Quietly, he thought to hell with it and let himself weep. He was so fucking done with all this bullshit.

He wanted Y/N back. He wanted his kids back. The fuck kind of brainless jackass was he, leaving them for so long, so much? And for what?

To "see what's out there?"

As if he'd find people who had a cure?

To bring Rick and Mich home? If Rick is even alive, if Michonne is alive.

To transport some creepy French boy to a group of weirdos grasping at the hope of some imaginary friend in the sky who damns them if they don’t do all the rules in the world that He’d let go to shit as a punishment or test?

Really, was Daryl that much of a guilt-ridden jerk-off to still say yes to whatever Maggie asks him to do? It’s a hopeless fu—

“Daryl, I love you so much. Please don’t blaspheme.”

“Y/N?” I thought you was gone. No, you were gone, I woke up! “You’re back?” Holy shit, thank you. Thank you! Thank you, Whoever's up there.

That small, shy smile melted all the ice he’d just had in his heart. “Try not to wake all the way again?”

He didn’t waste any more time blubbering like an idiot, he reached for her and held on. It was still a dream, so he had to be careful to not get too excited or do anything too stimulating. And, don’t worry, he wasn’t about to willingly get a hard-on when there was a nun next to him.

He just needed to have Y/N in his arms again so he could make it through the next 5 minutes without going insane!

For 12 years, she’d been there, loving him in one way or another. For 10 years they’d been husband and wife. Without her, without their kids there, in that strange, foreign place, he was losing himself so quick it brought him to his knees with shame.

Her lips pulled away for a moment. “I wouldn’t agree that you’re losing yourself. I watched Shaney lose himself, it looked different. Daryl, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Listen: did you not save that dad and daughter even after they robbed you?”

Big whoop. “You know what those guerrilla shits would’ve done to her." The same thing that got done to you. "And those assholes would prolly have made the old man watch and killed me regardless.”

“Yeah, but you also went back to try and save that gaggle of nuns from those jar-head pieces of shit, that’s got to count for somethin’.” Wait, that was Merle’s voice. He was back, too?

Daryl looked over at the window to see his brother there once more. Merle winked. “My baby brother, the hero. Stay zen if you’re fixing to keep us here, now. Keep hittin’ that sweet spot between dreamland and the real world.”

Y/N beamed at Merle before turning back to Daryl. “And did you not help those children get the medicine, Dare? Heck, now they got access to that whole castle full of supplies and it’s so much more secure. Um, m-minus the moat full of dead ones.”

“I lied to those kids out my ass, Y/N. Lied and didn’t give a damn.”

“And you ensured none of them got hurt, then promptly admitted the lie with what I’d call purity of heart.”

“I cut that boy’s mule loose without a second thought. You see that? He loved that thing.”

“Better than to have failed to back up the cart in time, which would have happened and would have gotten all five of y’all eaten. And it was almost fast enough to escape by the looks of it. One dead mule to the benefit of four living souls is a good outcome.”

“What’d my sister-in-law say earlier?” Merle asked. “Brains, balls, and grit? Not to sound all mushy gushy, but she’s right.”

The memories of falling into that moat of walkers seized him, made him start to panic again. No brains, no balls, he almost died right in there—

“—Baby, shh,” Y/N hushed. Her arms tightly wrapped around him the way she would when his nightmares hit bad. “You survived. No bites. No burns. Not even a broken bone, I don’t know how you managed it again.” Her lips, her chest, her hands pressed against him. It felt so, so real. “But you always seem to.” She kissed him. “You’ve got brains.” Another kiss. “Balls.” A deeper kiss. “And grit. And you’re alive, sweetheart. There’s always hope as long as your heart is still beating.”

“How will I get out of this?”

“You’ll find a way,” she said with confidence. “You simply don’t know what the way is yet.”

“What do I do about the nuns?”

“Help them keep Laurent safe, of course — if you choose to do so.”

I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him.

I want to go home.

“And you will,” she assured him once again.

I don’t want to help them. I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to!

…God damn it. “But I should.”

“You ain’t obligated,” Y/N responded, but with hesitation that time. “It is up to you.”

Merle was the one to point out, “It’s that conscience of yours, kid. Sometimes you just can’t help but help. I’ve been watchin’ you these past, what is it, 11 years since I got my crusty white ass killed?” He chuckled to himself as he shaved off the final bit of peach before flicking the pit away. “Can’t be too mad at it when it roped you a fine piece of ass to squeeze at night and how many kids because of it?”

“Merle,” Y/N warned.

Daryl could feel his anger rising.

“What, ain’t you relieved I can’t call you ‘sweet little virgin’ no more, son?” Merle kept egging on.

“Daryl, this isn’t really him. Don’t get angry or we’ll both disapp—”

“—So, my thinking is, Daryl, that you just won’t be able to help yourself from bringing that little sissy boy to them nutjobs —”

“Shut up!” Daryl burst out — and opened his eyes in real time. Again? Is he that much of an idiot?

His pulse was pounding. Dread and self-loathing flooded his mind, how stupid could he be?

Immediately, he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate hope to get his wife and brother back. He focused, focused, focused, prayed, pretended, focused…

“Daryl,” came her voice.

He could hear Y/N, but not see her. It was clear that it was all him forcing the memory of her voice back. It was all in his head.

“Why bother caring that it’s in your head, sugar? Breathe slowly and focus on the feel of my body against yours. I don’t wanna leave you."

“Y/N, I need to get back,” he panted. “I can use their help to do that. Those religious people, the Union of Hope or whoever, Isabelle says they got a good radio. I need that to get back home.”

“Well, there you go! I trust you.”

He reached up to tangle his fingers where her hair would be. His imagination wasn’t letting it happen, so he focused with gratefulness that at least he could still hear her.

“Just don’t abuse their trust, and you’ll be alright,” she softly pleaded.

Don’t break their trust? “Angel, you don’t know what I did to end up in this mess.”

Of all the ways he could have daydreamed her reacting, it was that her laughter filled the room. “For the last time, my mangy hick, I am a figment of your imagination and quite literally know everythin’ inside that brain of yours. And I still love you despite that ‘shit-show’ what landed you here.”

He brought to mind the color of her eyes, wanting, wanting, begging for a miracle that would make her truly there with him so he could stare into them all night. “What would you say if I asked ‘that if I don’t find nothing, what good am I?’”

“Y/N, you can blame our raising for that shit right there,” his brother commented.

“You poor boys. Broken people sometimes make for broken kids.”

Gently, he started to perceive the way she would rub her cheek against his chest when she’d lay down with him. “Daryl? If I were here, I’d say things to try and make it stick in your head that your worth ain’t dependent on what you can offer.”

“What does it depend on, then?”

“Careful, you’re treading into religious waters now, and I ain’t sure you’ve got the bandwidth tonight. But God is involved,” she hinted.

This mess was hopeless, wasn’t it? No winning, no out, no happy ending.

“Angel, I can’t come home empty-handed.” He squeezed his eyes tighter and willed himself to not lose his cool yet again. “I can’t come home with no Rick or Michonne, no cure, no nothin’ but a burn, more nightmares, and more lives on my conscience.”

“You can,” she answered simply. “It ain’t all on you. No — please, don’t get any more upset or you’ll wake up again! Daryl, I’ve already slipped so far away!” He heard his wife begin to cry, but the sound went further and further from him. All he could see were the backs of his eyelids.

Still, he held on as best he could. “Please stay here, angel.”

“I-I would, sweetheart.”

“When I’m back, I won’t even want to leave the walls to hunt if it would mean not being next to you, d’you know that?”

“Let someone else hunt. You’ve done enough to last a lifetime.” Her voice was hoarse the way it had been when she’d said those same words to him about a year and a half ago. “More than enough. Oh Daryl, I’m so sorry we’re going.”

“Not yet, angel, please don’t!”

“Use all those things makin’ you homesick as reasons to hope. Do it for me, sugar. Get yourself home again. Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

“I won’t. I’ll get back to you. Tell the kids I love ’em?”

There was silence.

Stillness.

Daryl lay there, accepting that he couldn’t feel Y/N next to him anymore.

His throat tightened. “Angel?”

He doesn’t know why he bothered. She was gone, he knew it. He ran his finger where his ring should’ve been, if he hadn’t lost it.

“Angel,” he tried again.

Silence.

“Babe, please. Please.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please, one more time, angel.”

Silence.

The pain in him was hollow and cold.

Feeling small and helpless, he lifted his arms above his head and held back a wail of despair. He closed his eyes again and, in his head, he cried out in desperation, “Merle?”

At first, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. Why should he?

But then he heard a quiet, low, “I’m still here.”

Merle spoke slowly and heavily, almost as if it hurt him to admit it. “I don’t think she’s gonna come back tonight, Daryl. You’ve already fallen out a few times. I ain’t gonna be here much longer, neither. You know that.”

Any strength he had left seeped out like a stab wound, leaving him crying like a child. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“I know, little brother.”

“It felt so real.”

“It sure as hell did. I think you needed it, even if it hurts like a bitch now.”

It had felt so, so real!

But it wasn’t. “I’m alone,” he choked out.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle.” For a moment Daryl could make out his brother’s face again. “You’re a tough sumbitch, so I’d advise you act like it. Quit blubberin’ like a baby and wipe the snot out your nose.”

Daryl sniffed and tried to get a grip.

“Good.” Merle’s voice began to echo. He was almost gone, too. “Now listen here: don’t die, don’t get bit. Get your ass back where you belong.”

The room came into view.

The echoing stopped.

The hollow, cold pain he’d felt at knowing they were gone there turned sharp and hot. Turns out, it was actually the throbbing in his arm. Daryl really had turned onto his side, which positioned his burned arm underneath him. He strained to get off it and flip onto his back.

You know what? The pain from his burned arm didn’t hold a candle to the ache in his chest.

Were those tears on his face, too? Guess he must’ve started crying for real in his sleep. Made sense considering how real it all felt. It all felt so real.

If only his pulse would stop racing, he felt sick.

He was getting damned old.

Instinctively, he tried to fiddle with his wedding band, which is when he recalled yet again how he’d lost it. Only a faint tan line remained.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and chewed at his lip. Another tear or two escaped and ran hot down his cheek.

A strange part of him wished he hadn’t lied to Laurent about having a wife and family back home. At the time he said it so it wouldn't hurt as much, but…

“You deserve a happy ending, too,” the kid had told him. Just like his Judith had, when she saw how low and unworthy he begun to feel. She told her auntie Y/N, too, of course, not that his wife wasn’t unaware of how twisted his head had gotten into thinking he was no good. It didn’t feel twisted to him, it felt honest. He didn’t deserve them. They were too good.

His wife’s words to him played again in his mind. He may have just been making all that shit up in his brain, but he was only remembering a mix of real things that she’d told him before, over and over in the hopes his stupid ass would accept it one day.

“Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

He did need a reason. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Any hope.

So, maybe, a weird kid with long hair like TJ’s who drew a picture of some washed-up bum on a beach three weeks before Daryl showed up was reason enough to hope. He could grasp onto that.

If it would get him home, hell yeah, he could do that.

How the same weird kid told him what his niece had and what his wife had could be reason enough, too. He could grasp onto that as well, if it would get him home. He could do that for them.

Daryl ran his hand in slow, gentle circles along his stomach like Y/N would. Maybe he’d been doing this in his dream, which is why it felt so real.

It had all felt so, so real.

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

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[svnaaaaaa]

Monte Carlo : Charles Leclerc AU (Epilogue)

pairing : charles leclerc x fem reader

summary : the married life went well. so is the pregnancy?

warning(s) : another domestic!charles, progress of pregnancy (i literally have nothing to write now), pictures from pinterest

previous : part seven

next : -

masterlist

author's note : in honour of attack on titan's final episode aired, i presented a long epilogue just like how attack on titan ended its series *sobsob*. i had fun doing this series but i realized of how short the story is because i just don't know how to elaborate the story long but long stories can be boring (with my writing) at the end of the day so i decided to end it before it became nonsense lol. thank you for the support that you guys gave me, i hope you guys enjoy it from the first part till now.

tagging : (if you want to be tagged in, let me know)

recap :

"ready to be a daddy, papa?" y/n whispered as she stroked back charles' front hair to the back. "as ready as i ever be maman." charles replied, taking y/n's hand and kissed it.

-

10 weeks into pregnancy, y/n realized that her body is going through some changes and that being her emotions as well. her abdomen is getting a slight bloated as if she was overeating things. just a small bloating, nothing more or less. and since charles have a week off from racing, he decides to bring y/n back home in nice, france for some healing time. lately, charles noticed that his wife is having mood swings moments, where himself was afraid that something might trigger her which he assumed that his wife was stressed while he wasn't home.

"honey, you might want to slow down on those wings. it giving you a bloating tummy already." beau reprimanded as he saw his daughter savouring the chicken wings. which has been y/n's craving lately where she craved chicken wings with spicy honey glazed sauce on it. y/n who felt realiztion hits her hard, she put down the de-boned wing back on her plate and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of her as her eyes were getting tear up. charles comes in the living room and he heard his wife was getting to sob. he immediately went to her side and rub his wife's arms. "y/n sweetheart, what's wrong, tell me." charles hushed as the sobbing is getting louder.

"i'm fat!" y/n exclaimed. "which makes me ugly!" y/n continued and the crying comes in. charles sighed silently as he pulled his wife into his arms and hugged her gently, rubbing her back. "you're not fat and ugly my sweetheart, it just your body is going through some phases as you are pregnant now." charles tried to rationalized which makes beau hit with gulit. "i'm sorry baby, i know being pregnant makes you want to eat everything you want but i am just want you to be aware of what you eat. that's all, nothing harm." beau explained. y/n pulled away from charles' arms and glared at beau, which causing him to stutter and carefully walk away from the living room. y/n starting to sob again and once again, charles pulled her to his shoulder, swaying them left and right.

charles thought of how many weeks more for the mood swings to past by.

"charles, y/n, i'm sorry."

-

as charles making chicken pasta for dinner, y/n who is finished showering, entered their bedroom while patting dry her body until she saw the full body mirror in the room. y/n noticed something different on her body and went closer to the mirror. y/n gasped. "charles!" y/n called. "charles, come quick!" y/n called once again and as fast as a lightning, there charles was, gasping for air as he leaned onto the door frame. "what is it sweetheart, are you hurt?" charles asked, making y/n chuckled. "no silly, look!" y/n exclaimed as she referred to her abdomen, making charles look at it as well. when realization kicks in, charles' eyes enlarged as he approached to his wife's way and saw a small bump. a bump that resides in his baby.

their baby.

"you can touch it you know." y/n chuckled as charles placed his hands at the side of his wife's bloating tummy, carassing it. getting his eyes tearing up, he thought on how he can't wait to meet with the baby soon enough. "hello there little angel, papa can't wait to see you soon. i hope you are as beautiful as your maman." charles said and end it with a kiss on his wife's abdomen.

-

25 weeks into the pregnancy, y/n's abdomen became a bit larger than the last time she realized she had the tummy. this afternoon, pascale invited charles and y/n to her house for a lunch date. as charles went bonding with his brothers at the front yard, y/n, charlotte and pascale were in the kitchen, prepping things before cooking. since charles and y/n were the only leclerc couple that will be having a child soon, lorenzo and charlotte were more than happy to babysit the future baby before deciding to have their own baby, in order to gain some experience. "how's pregnancy treating you y/n?" charlotte asked y/n as she was washing some apples before handing to y/n to slice it up. y/n sat at the island table stool, rubbing her lower tummy looking at charlotte. "it was like a rollercoaster ride to be honest, sometimes i am okay sometimes i am not. and poor charles had to attend to all my ridiculousness." y/n replied as she chuckled at the thought of charles had to find a rabbit meat for y/n to eat it with a sriracha sauce, where charles had to made an order through amazon for the sriracha sauce.

charlotte chuckled as well. "well, he had to since he's also helping making the baby right?" charlotte asked and y/n nodded at the question. "he had to, if he doesn't want our baby to drooling once it was born." y/n said, had a thought of where her mother used to tell a story of a baby that keeps on drooling because the father wasn't able to fulfill the mother's pregnancy craving. once she told the story to charles, at first he thought it was kinda weird and dumb but the thought of having his own baby might be experience with drooling in its toddling years, he couldn't bear to risk it so he just fulfilled everything that y/n craved.

"is it really a thing?" charlotte asked and y/n shrugged. "it can be real, it cannot but neither of us want to risk." y/n replied while cutting off watermelon this time. pascale chuckled. "i also don't want you two to risk anything bad to my grandchildren." pascale informed, stirring her cookings on the stove. both charlotte and y/n looked at each other, just smiling. "will do pascale." charlotte replied. "maman, arthur's here with carla." lorenzo informed as both arthur and carla entered the kitchen and kissing pascale's cheek, carla holding something in her arms. "here i brought some desserts from patisserie riviera." carla informed, placing a box of desserts on the dining table.

y/n gasped as she holding her lower abdomen, alerting everyone in the house. "y/n, are you okay?" charles asked, rushing in to y/n's side and placed his hands on y/n's. "i-i'm fine, i guess." y/n replied in confusion. "it just, i felt something like cramp but it wasn't that hard or painful." y/n continued as she placed charles' hands on where y/n felt the flutter against her abdomen. charles' eyes brighten up at the feel of the small kicks.

"wait, the baby kicked because of patisserie riviera?" arthur asked.

-

amélie was assigned to be the planner of the baby shower and she planned it to be an all-girls party at a venue where charles and y/n held their wedding at. amélie also invited kika, carmen, kelly, rebecca, lily, and basically all formula one drivers' partners. the theme of the party is pastel purple because everyone doesn't know the gender of the baby. the baby gender reveal will be held at the end of the party where the men will be invited right after the party ends.

theme and cake

cookies

invitation card

dining table

backdrop

"okay everyone, gather around here as we are going to play our first game." amélie announced as she stood on a podium with backdrop that she designed specially for her future niece/nephew. the ladies started to stood in front of amélie as y/n took place next to amélie as she linked her arm around amélie's.

"we are going to play our first game, which i call 'play dough babies', where each of you will be given a cup of play dough and the rule is easy." amélie started as she pulled a trolley that have cups of colourful play dough. "each of you need to create the perfect play dough baby where our mother to-be here, will decide the winner." amélie finished and starts handing out the play dough cups. "also help yourself with props in the trolley there to add some bonus points!" amélie added. the ladies in the hall starts to get excited as the trolley were pushed into the middle of the hall and they saw things that they can get creative with.

"okay ladies, you only have 15 minutes to create the most perfect yet creative play dough baby." amélie said as she pulled out a stop watch. "your 15 minutes start, now!" amélie announced as she clicked on the timer and the ladies started to rolling out play dough according to their own ways. "so y/n, who do you think will be the winner?" amélie asked leisurely as she tried not to make things focus on the game. y/n hummed as she looked at the contestants making their babies eagerly. she eyed on kika's play dough baby. "i had my eyes on someone's but i can't tell who." y/n replied as she giggled. "oh-kay then, ladies your time have five more minutes left." amélie announced and she walked around, eyeing the babies.

"time's up! so y/n, please choose your winner mommy!" amélie announced and y/n walked around to evaluate the babies.

y/n smiled genuinely. "without bias, the winner for this round is ... carla!" y/n announced as carla jumped happily and went to hug y/n at her arm as she doesn't want to cause trouble to y/n.

-

five games later, at party is now almost at the end and the men now have arrived. y/n's eyes lighten up as charles showed in her sight. charles saw y/n and walked his way to her. y/n smiled at charles and grabbed his arm, hugging it. charles chuckled at his wife's attitude, stroking his wife's arms around his right arm. "alright, now that everyone is here. now is the time for the gender reveal!" amélie announced and brought in a white frosted cake on her hands.

the guests there were starting to clapping their hands, feeling excited at the reveal of baby leclerc. including the new leclercs, where both charles and y/n is fine with the gender of the baby, as long as the baby is healthy and happy. charles gripped on y/n's hand where he pulled it to his mouth and kissed on it, making y/n smiled at her husband's gesture.

"ladies and gentlemen, may i here invite the leclercs to the podium here and cut the cake to present the reveal of their baby's gender." amélie announced and then both charles and y/n went to the front, onto the small podium that amélie made, hand in hand. amélie smiled at the couple and stood a bit away from where the couple stood. "are you guys feeling excited?" amélie asked, being the great host she is. "are you expecting a boy or a girl?" amélie added. "well..." charles started, as he getting nervous for no specific reason. "we were hoping to get both boy and girl but since there is only one baby here," charles placed his hand on his wife's belly, "we are fine with any of it as long as the baby's fine and y/n have a safe labour soon." charles said as the crowd were awed at charles' reply.

"okay, it's time to cut the cake! which gender will the new baby leclerc will be!" amélie said as both charles and y/n cut the cake and the gender has been revealed, which caused joy among the guests there.

-

38 weeks passed by so quickly and it is time for y/n to be admitting into her labour ward since the baby can arrive soon enough. also she has been feeling mild contractions. right now, charles went off to registering his wife after they got in their ward room.

"have you thought about the name yet?" one of the nurses asked as she was inserting iv drip on y/n's arm while y/n make herself comfortable on a bed that she has been admitted. "yea, we had few names listed but the right one will comes right in when we see the baby's face." y/n told the nurse. the nurse smiled at the excitement of a new mother. this was the first time for the nurse to see new mothers being calm, despite within 24 hours, they had to push a baby out of their uterus.

"all done, if there's any discomfort or problems, please press the button here okay?" the nurse asked and y/n nodded her head yes. making sure that y/n is fine once again, she left the ward room, followed with charles entering. y/n letting out a huge huff of breath. "another contraction?" charles asked and y/n nodded her head yes. "but still, the water isn't broke yet. is it normal?" y/n asked worriedly, making charles nervous and worried as well.

he was a small child when his mother gave birth to arthur and y/n was the younger child in her siblings. none of them experience with childbirth before.

"i guess so, want to take a walk?" charles offered. y/n nodded her head yes.

-

the leclerc couple walked down the hallway of the ward, waiting for water to break and also for dilation. dragging along the iv drip along. "can you believe it char, less than 24 hours we get to see our little baby!" y/n said excitedly even in the midst of contraction. charles smiled at his wife's excitement and admired at how strong a woman is even if she is in labour. this makes charles respect women even more, especially his mum and wife. "we have been waiting long enough now, please hurry up little fella." charles said while rubbing his wife's stomach, causing y/n groaned silently not wanting to create chaos. charles noticed it and pulled his hand away and immediately hold onto his wife's shoulders, fearing that she might fell down or something along the way. charles looked at y/n worriedly, which y/n saw and smiled a bit. "i'm fine, it just the baby can't wait to meet you too." y/n said slowly.

and their walk ended right there, as to the dilation went from 2 cm to 9 cm. that fast huh.

-

charles_leclerc

2,748,916 likes

charles_leclerc Presenting René Jules Valentin Leclerc. I love you my boy, just like how I love your mother ❤️

Comments are off.

yourusername

1,637,729 likes

yourusername rené jules valentin leclerc, reborn youthful and healthy

Comments are off.

-

a/n : the end! i didn't know how to end it so i ended it this way. thank you to all who have been supporting this series from the beginning until now. for now i would like to take a rest from writing because i have been in writer's block mode for a while now, hence the ending. if any of you have any suggestions or request, feel free to inbox me and i will try my best to make it a reality! once again, thank for the support and if you don't mind, feel free to follow me so that you will known what will i write next hehe 🩵

[reaperlight]

Secrets Laid Bare (Part 1)

[More post Venom 3 with the murder fam Au]

[Tw: suicide mention]

[Eddie rotting depressed in bed.]

Frances: [Meditating and levitating at the foot of the bed.]

Eddie: Woah... like, what are you doing?

Frances: Well, since you asked I've been working on getting better control of my powers.

Eddie: You're being uh... awfully quiet for that... [Glancing at her levitating again] I didn't know you could fly?

Frances [smirking]: Oh, that's not the only trick up my sleeve. I've found a quirk of my psionic powers is that they respond best to mental anguish. And right now, Brockilicious, you are a feast.

Eddie: Well... I'm glad that you can get off on my suffering, I guess.

Frances: Not "get off," you're my battery. By being near you you're giving me a power boost so I can search further.

Eddie: Search further?

Frances: So I can find what they took from you.

Eddie: Oh! Can you... can you really?

Frances: Yes. Now, please let me concentrate.

Eddie: ...Do I need to think sad thoughts or something?

Frances: That would be helpful, yes.

Cletus [clearly jealous]: ...you used to do that with me.

Frances: Because you were in constent torment all the time, darling. Since we met again...It isn't as potent. I think your new powers are dampening it.

Cletus: So what do I need to do?

Frances: You don't have to do anything. I've got all that I need for this right here.

Cletus: But--

Frances: Baby, it's a good thing that you're getting better. I am feeding off of Eddie's anguish because he's depressed to the point of being suicidal. I do not want you harming yourself.

Cletus: ...but, do you still like me?

Frances [exasperated]: ...Cletus, I married you.

Cletus: But do you like, like me?

Frances: Baby...

Cletus: My angel, I know... Ever since... ever since my execution. There's been this dark, dangerous side of me I can't control and... [lost] I've never felt so out of control. I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I did hurt you.

Frances: And I forgive you. Did you forget who you're talking to? I know. I understand we can't control what forms our mutations take--

Eddie: Woah, woah, woah. Wait what? [to Cletus] You didn't tell her?

Frances [confused]: Tell me what?

Cletus [just as confused]: ...tell her what, Eddie?

Eddie: You didn't tell her about Carnage?

Cletus [annoyed]: Yes, Eddie of course she knows about Carnage. What the hell kind of question is that? You've seen me with her with Carnage. That's one of the first things I did when I found her again. I don't keep secrets from my wife.

Eddie [pinching the bridge of his nose]: Okay, okay just... back up here. What do you think Carnage is?

Cletus: Huh?

Eddie: Go on, take a wild guess.

Cletus: [*clearly put off-balance by the question*] ...I don't know Eddie. I'm not a scientist. I, we... Frances and I, we just assumed it must have activated some mutation when I drank your blood... Say if you drank my blood would that get you your Venom back?

Eddie [*tempted for a moment at the possibility*]: I... no. It doesnt work that way or rather... it wouldn't be the same. I do appreciate the offer though. I know you didn't have to--that was kind of you.

Cletus: [*flashing a genuinely happy black-toothed grin*]

Eddie: So you really don't know?

Cletus: What am I supposed to know... [annoyed] How am I supposed to know?

Frances: I know that he turns into a sexy red weredragon-octopus monster thing and that he's my soulmate [*comes down from levitating to sit in his lap, causing that rotten black maw to grin wider*] That's all I need to know.

Eddie: Carnage, you didn't tell him?

Carnage: Well, I tried but...

Eddie: But what?

Carnage: His mind wouldn't accept it at the time. It was easier to go along with it.

Cletus: ...what? [To Carnage] You lied to me?

Carnage: I never lied.. you didn't listen to me and made up your own reality and it became easier to play along. In any case a convenient lie is easier than having to drag you around while you were catatonic and risk you getting arrested again.

Cletus: Eddie, what's going on? Please, give it to me straight.

Eddie: Okay, before I say anything I need you all to try and stay calm.

Cletus: That's... not reassuring.

Frances: Is he sick?

Carnage: No I devoured his illness.

Cletus: What?!

Carnage: Have you not noticed less pain in your stomach lately? Since we met?

Cletus: [*the light of understanding, he clearly does know exactly what Carnage is talking about*]

Carnage: Do you not yet understand? I. Protect. You. But that's a discussion for another time. By all means Eddie, tell them what I am. Maybe he'll actually listen to you.

Eddie: I uh.. I'm just worried if we need to plug our ears or... or if I'm gonna get skewered for saying it.

Carnage: I will behave if she will.

Frances [glaring]: I will control myself. I've gotten better at it.

Eddie: Okay. First of all with Carnage... whatever is going on with Frances, the uh mutant thing? I'm pretty sure that's not what's happening here.

Cletus: Oh...

[clearly disappointed not having this in common with his wife]

Eddie: Okay, like... do you know what Venom is?

Frances: Your power. That they stole from you, correct? Because you're like Cletus?

Eddie: Or rather Cletus is like me, yes. But it's more than that.

Cletus: That black dragon-octopus thing, right? You looked very cool by the way.

Frances: Yes, very goth.

Eddie: I... Thanks. I'll... if... if I see him again, I'll be sure to let him know.

Frances: ...Him?

Cletus [clearly dejected]: I assumed it was either a mutation or... or demonic possession. It's the latter isn't it?

Eddie: No, but uh, you're on the right track. It's a symbiote. An alien that needs a host to live--

Frances: You're an alien?

Cletus [nervously]: Like E.T. phone home?

Eddie: ...Yes.

Cletus: Seriously, little green men?

Frances: But not little... or green.

Cletus [chuckling]: Explains why I never felt like I belonged on this planet.

Frances: You're just like Superman!

Eddie: No, uh not like Superman.

Frances [Hugging her husband]: Well he's my Superman.

Cletus: Oh.

[Eddie paused in the telling as they were clearly distracted by their makeout session. Frances was probably getting a big boost from him now as he was missing Venom dearly at the moment*]

[*Carnage cleared their throat*]

Cletus: Sorry, Eddie. You were saying?

Eddie: Well uh you're a human actually. Well as far as I known. Unless there's something about your family I don't know--

Cletus: Well they're assholes but I'm guessing that's irrelevant to the current discussion. So like what do you mean then by... alien?

Eddie: I mean you have an alien living inside you.

Cletus [throat dry]: So like... I've been body-snatched?

Frances [horrified]: Chest-buster?

Cletus: It laid its eggs in me?

Eddie: Uh... kinda, No. I don't know if eggs are involved but... uh, yes. It came from Venom somehow? Spawned, split off? I don't know. But like... it's not exactly body snatched. At least it wasn't for Venom and me. When it goes right. It's living together, with another person in your body. A weirdly shaped person but a person. Bonds are about compromise, it's a...  relationship. It's...

Eddie [realizing for the first time]: It's like marriage.

Eddie [gasping]: Venom is my husband.

Frances: Your husband? So then Carnage...

Cletus [panicked]: It's not like that. Baby, I swear, it's not like that!

Carnage [annoyed, grabbing Cletus possessively with big red claws]: Yes, I'm just a third wheel, apparently.

Frances: ...If you'll excuse me.

Cletus: Baby, no.

Frances: Gotta go, shriek coming on. And think I got enough misery for now.

[dr-chosenberg]

On my recent rewatch I felt the inspiration to design my headcanon for what Dr. Potterswheel's late wife might have looked like! Born Marie-Thérèse Praxineaux, her maiden name is based off of the Praxinoscope which is an animation device that came after the Zoetrope

Voice: https://youtu.be/2MaiJtecGmI?si=H6h5nLCUQsk9039K

CW: Dr Potterswheel's gore fetish, infection, death, miscarriage,

She moved to Moralton because you know The War and was shunned because of the rumors around town of her being a foreigner and France being a place of sin and lust. The librarian there gave her a job because she assumed no moralton man was going to be interested because of her reputation and took pity on her. Oh another reason the moraltons hate her lol, France is a majority Catholic country. Marie was part of the minority there that was Protestant but obviously the Moraltons didn’t care.

In comes a young Quentin.

He was studying for his medical school exams and often came in, staying the often inaccurate statesotan medical books for long hours. Sometimes when it was just the librarian and the two of them she would avoid him at all costs, not wanting to further her reputation.

He was aware of Marie-Therese, she was pretty and always helpful when she knew where to find a book he needed.

One day some kind of accident happened, not serious enough that she was in any real danger but enough that she needed medical assistance. Maybe a bookcase fell on her and she needed some stitches?

M-T was not one to speak up or make a fuss, but Quentin had a handsome deep voice and spoke with so much authority. He did his best to reassure her she would be ok and in a sense it coaxed the words right out of her. She had a way with words and could describe her pain like she was painting a picture, I like to think she enjoyed writing poetry, but you and I both know that’s not why it attracted him so intensely.

Despite the town doing its best to shun her she still attended church every Sunday and every Sunday Quentin would inquire about her wounds progress and ask to see it. One day a few weeks after her wound had healed they were conversing and Marie-Therese joked sadly that they could no longer be seen together as she didn’t have the excuse of being his practice patent.

At which point Quentin proposed. It wasn’t the most romantic affair to most, he said it matter of factly as he does most things. But that was ok, she would have the bedside manner and the way with words for them both.

Their relationship itself….well they had a foot up on many Moralton couples as they were truly in love. Many would consider Marie a fool as he was not the most romantic man. He was soft when she would fuss or worry (think about the way he spoke to Bloberta when she said her wound was bad) but when she really took issue with something he wouldn’t get more emotional, but even less, she found herself at times disheartened at the way he would dismiss her worries and talk down to her. She insisted to her newfound housewife friends that they just didn’t know him like she did, which was *sort* of true.

She honestly didn’t mind his “preferences” she assumed that taking charge was what a husband was meant to do in the bedroom, and that a “little” pain was just what a good Christian woman had to put up with after a life of chastity. When she had other wounds and he would take a bit too much of a vested interest she thought it was just his way of showing he cared. She never understood why he would discourage what he called “unnecessary” medications like, allergy meds, antacids, etc. always feeding her a line about the lord helping those who help themselves.

She tried her best to become more like the other wives of Moralton, she even took up sewing and embroidery. She made a comment once about how she was just like him, sewing up patients. He stroked her head and smiled, “How cute. You’d worry yourself sick if anything important was counting on your little stick ‘n’ pokes.”

Things got better when they got the wonderful news that Marie was pregnant. Her pregnancy was very rough, unlike anything Quentin had ever seen. He would comfort her by telling her of the many strong mothers he had seen in his career so far, if she couldn’t handle the pain of the pregnancy how could she handle the birth? The smile he would give her when she would nod in agreement was all the soothing she needed.

She was nearing the worst of it when she used the last of her energy to embroider a handkerchief for him, with his initials on it. Sometimes he would use it to clean her face when she would cough up one thing or another, or wet it to soothe her forehead.

Of course she wasn’t *just* facing pregnancy complications, she had caught a whole other sickness entirely, an infection. The days went by and Quentin got more desperate. Out of love for his wife? Out of a need to prove his abilities as a doctor? Who knows. He would never admit fault for anything let alone a patient, he sure as hell wasn’t going to take the blame for losing the woman he cares for. He tried everything, except actual medical science.

Finally he relented and began to give her painkillers. I believe it would be more in character if he didn’t tell her. Visitors from the town and a young Reverend Putty suspected it but she was none the wiser. She used to say things like, “Ma moitié having you pray for me and care for me is so healing, I am feeling better already.”

When she could form full coherent sentences.

With the way medicine was at the time while some painkillers are safe for pregnant women these probably weren’t, but they weren’t what took her. It got to the point that she wasn’t herself anymore but spent her days lying in bed in a haze, barely awake.

She swore sometimes that she could see Quentin there at her side, watching her, even feel him stroke her hand. But when she got her eyes to focus he wasn’t there anymore.

One day Quentin went in for a morning check up and the sheets were covered in blood. He had lost his wife and his child in one fell swoop.

It was a horrific scene but she looked so serene. So comfortable. She was clutching his handkerchief.

Notes:

This takes place with the assumption that Moralton is not modern day, I headcanon Quentin to be around 50

This was fun, nothing is set in stone truly as this was part of a stream of consciousness conversation with my friend @cheonsa-n I’m fully up for criticism if anything seems out of character. I’m also happy to explain the reasoning behind certain choices!

I don’t personally buy the idea that Quentin killed his wife on purpose, a man with Quentin’s disposition who actually committed a murder wouldn’t resort to almost stabbing the man who accused him of it, that’s how you get people to think you killed your wife on purpose lol.

I hope you guys enjoy what I came up with. Their relationship isn’t fully this way as he was attracted to her and subjected her to some of the same treatment we saw Bloberta go through, but their marriage in my mind had a bit of a Madonna-whore complex flavoring to it. I also believe this is somewhat of an origin story for his habit of treating everything with almost exclusively painkillers. Marie-Thérèse couldn’t be saved but she was, as Quentin puts it, very comfortable when she passed.

In the AU where she lives she still suffered a miscarriage and Clay calls Dr. Potterswheel a babykiller instead. She is still as sweet as the day she and Quentin met but she isn’t particularly keen on giving Orel the time and attention he needs either, it’s too painful. When she does give him advice she tends to advise him to wait things out and not rock the boat. She tells him that good things come to those who wait.

[bethanydelleman]

I have a very specific question and I hope you know the answer (or where to look 😅): If I remember correctly when Fanny originally was sent to Mansfield she was first accompanied by a servant and joined by Mrs. Norris on the last part. Was this the normal, proper way for children to travel or would a parent / guardian come and pick them up instead of sending a servant?

Let's say it's the beloved child of Lord and Lady X, they're 8 years old and have a long journey ahead of them to go home. Would loving Lady X travel to her child and bring them back herself or was that seen as overbearing and unnecessary when you have trusted servant Y who will keep the child safe and spare you the hassle?

Thank you so much for your work it's always so insightful!

Thank you!

First a caveat, that was the way that Mrs. Norris proposed that Fanny should travel, but it is not what actually happened:

"...I will engage to get the child to Mansfield; you shall have no trouble about it. My own trouble, you know, I never regard. I will send Nanny to London on purpose, and she may have a bed at her cousin the saddler’s, and the child be appointed to meet her there. They may easily get her from Portsmouth to town by the coach, under the care of any creditable person that may chance to be going. I dare say there is always some reputable tradesman’s wife or other going up.” Except to the attack on Nanny’s cousin, Sir Thomas no longer made any objection, and a more respectable, though less economical rendezvous being accordingly substituted

Mrs. Norris's plan is to send Fanny with a stranger from Portsmouth to London and then with her housekeeper. Sir Thomas clearly did not think this was sufficient. Given what he does for Fanny later, I assume he sent a male servant to fetch her, but we aren't told.

Now as for children traveling, I believe they did often go without their parents. Many children in Austen's and other novels go to boarding school and it doesn't seem like their parents accompany them. However, they would almost certainly send a trusted servant with them. In Wives & Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell, Hyacinth sends her daughter Cynthia, who is a teenager, to France to boarding school completely alone and is criticized for it. She does arrange for Cynthia to stay with family along the way.

If we look at how dependent women travel, which I believe would be similar to children, a male servant is sent most of the time (Elizabeth & Jane's journey to London for example). Fanny is sent with a male relative, William and then Edmund. It is implied that it would be fine for Fanny to travel with Henry Crawford, a gentleman friend of the family. Georgiana Darcy is with her companion Mrs. Younge and at least one (maybe two) male servants. The Dashwood sisters travel with Mrs. Jennings, who would count as a chaperone, she likely has servants with them as well.

The less well-off Miss Steeles travel with a reputable gentleman but not a servant because they can't afford one. Catherine Morland's shocking journey home was shocking because she was unaccompanied (female and only 17). Jane Eyre was sent alone with just the coachman (she was 10) and the school found that odd, so usually a child would be accompanied by someone. Frederica is picked up from school by her uncle in Lady Susan, though that was also because he had to consult with the schoolmistress.

As for real humans, I have read that Jane Austen herself always traveled with one of her brothers, even when she was a confirmed spinster.

So I think it's fairly likely that Lady X could send her beloved child to travel with a trusted servant or three or a relative. I don't think it would be crazy for her to go herself, since Edmund travels all the way to Portsmouth to fetch Fanny, but it would probably depend on the length of the journey and the social commitments of the parents.

[paganimagevault]

Tomb of Yu Hong 592-598 CE. Link to my blog at bottom with more sources and description of individual images.

This is probably a Sogdian tomb. Interestingly, the man has a haplogroup that was widespread amongst the blue-eyed Mesolithic/Neolithic Western Hunter Gatherers (WHG are probably where blue eyes originated from) and the haplogroup is found today most prominently in Sami, Finns, and Estonians. His wife has a haplogroup found prominently amongst East Asians. Based on her East Asian origins and the inclusion of some Turkic-looking people in the tomb's artwork I would assume she was probably a Turk, herself. The long-haired men without halos (e.g. panel 4) are probably Turks, that was a typical appearance for them during this time period. Men from other surrounding populations such as the Sogdians, Huns, Tocharians, etc. typically kept shorter hair that didn't go past their shoulders. More info:

"The man buried in the tomb went by Yu Hong (Chinese: 虞弘; pinyin: Yú Hóng; Wade–Giles: Yü Hung; 533–592 AD), with Mopan (莫潘) as his courtesy name, who was a Central Asian, probably of Persian or Sogdian origin, and practiced Zoroastrianism. He had settled in Early Middle Period China during the Northern Qi, Northern Zhou and Sui dynasties. This tomb is so far the only archaeological find in the Central Plains region that reflects Central Asian (Western Regions) culture. The epitaph found in the tomb records that he was a noble of the city of Yü-ho-lin / Yuhelin (尉紇驎) in the mysterious Yu country (魚國), assumably for which he is named, because the two characters 虞 and 魚 are homophones.

According to the epitaph, Yu Hong started his career in service of the nomadic tribe at the time, known as Ruru. At the age of 13, he was posted as an emissary to Persia by the Khagan of Ruru, as well as Parthia, Tuyuhun and Yuezhi. Later he went on a mission to the Northern Qi, Northern Zhou and Sui dynasties. He served as chien-chiao sa-pao fu / jianjiao sabao fu (檢校薩保府, lit. “acting director of the office of Zoroastrian affairs”, or “Sogdian affairs”) during the Northern Zhou period. The term sa-pao / sabao (薩保) comes from the Sogdian s′rtp′w, means a “caravan leader”.

He had later served as a provincial governor in the Sui dynasty government, a chieftain of the Central Asian people who had settled in China during that period. Yu Hong died at the age of 59 in 592 AD. His wife survived him by six years, and was buried in the same grave in 598 AD.

A study on ancient DNA reveals that Yu Hong belonged to the haplogroup U5, one of the oldest western Eurasian-specific haplogroups, while his wife can be classified as haplogroup G, the type prevalent in East Asia.

The age of U5 is estimated at between 25,000 and 35,000 years old, roughly corresponding to the Gravettian culture. Approximately 11% of Europeans (10% of European-Americans) have some variant of haplogroup U5.

U5 was the predominant mtDNA of mesolithic Western Hunter Gatherers (WHG) [this is where blue eyes probably originated from].

U5 has been found in human remains dating from the Mesolithic in England, Germany, Lithuania, Poland, Portugal, Russia, Sweden, France and Spain. Neolithic skeletons (~7,000 years old) that were excavated from the Avellaner cave in Catalonia, northeastern Spain included a specimen carrying haplogroup U5.

Haplogroup U5 and its subclades U5a and U5b today form the highest population concentrations in the far north, among Sami, Finns, and Estonians. However, it is spread widely at lower levels throughout Europe. This distribution, and the age of the haplogroup, indicate individuals belonging to this clade were part of the initial expansion tracking the retreat of ice sheets from Europe around 10,000 years ago.

U5 was the main haplogroup of mesolithic European hunter gatherers. U haplogroups were present at 83% in European hunter gatherers before influx of Middle Eastern farmer and steppe Indo-European ancestry decreased its frequency to less than 21%.

Today, haplogroup G is found at its highest frequency in indigenous populations of the lands surrounding the Sea of Okhotsk. It is an East Asian haplogroup. Haplogroup G is one of the most common mtDNA haplogroups among modern Ainu, Siberian, Mongol, Tibetan and Central and North Asian Turkic peoples people (as well as among people of the prehistoric Jōmon culture in Hokkaidō). It is also found at a lower frequency among many other populations of East Asia, Central Asia, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Nepal. However, unlike other mitochondrial DNA haplogroups typical of populations of northeastern Asia, such as haplogroup A, haplogroup C, and haplogroup D, haplogroup G has not been found among indigenous peoples of the Americas."

-taken from Wikipedia

[sugarsnappeases]

kara i NEED you to discuss option b. because i’m thinking about the lighthouse fic againnnnn

LANE!!!!! i would absolutely loooove to discuss option b and especially lighthouse fic........ god i love lighthouse fic. if anyone is unaware and curious, this is the basic premise, i'm gonna talk here about the way jily works in this au :))))))

so. it's a very classic set-up for them. james is very rich and very handsome and very charming, the son of an earl or a baron, a blue-blooded aristocrat. lily is the daughter of a miner, no standing to speak of, brash and rosy-cheeked and definitely not a suitable match for the heir to the potter family. they meet, somehow, the details are unimportant, and james falls head over heels and decides that she will be his wife. at first, lily's like well. no. bc she doesn't know him and she doesn't want to be a lady and have to deal with all the snobbery and judgement. but james is charming, and persistent, and everyone tells her how great it would be for her family and for her if she married him so eventually she decides that yes, maybe she will.

this is obvs a big shift for lily bc now suddenly she's no longer just the miner's daughter, she's the lord's daughter-in-law, she's nobility, she's pulled into a completely different social sphere with different expectations and a shit ton of social niceties and pernickety rules that she has to adhere to. but she decided to marry him and she likewise decides that, now she has, she's going to be best wife the local gossip circles have ever seen - partly out of spite bc they bitched about her 'shameful, lowly background' or whatever but also partly bc this is her life now, the role that she has chosen to play.

so she throws herself into it. she learns all the stupid rules. she embroiders instead of sewing, and she gives the servants instructions instead of just lighting the fire or doing whatever it is herself, and she follows the latest fashions coming in from france, and she settles in. and she loses a big part of herself. a few years pass, and the only ones who still gossip about her are the old ladies that everyone calls crazy, and she's got most of the local aristocracy wrapped around her little finger, and she's convinced herself that this is where she belongs. and she's a dutiful wife with a doting husband who she loves deeply and they have a beautiful baby boy and everything is exactly as it should be....

and then lily goes off to oversee the setting up of the new potter family summer house on the island. james and harry are due to follow her there in two months time but for now it's just her and some of the servants. and she's away from that idyll of family life, and away from her circle of aristocrat's wives that she spends her time with. she's away from all the rules and expectations that she had painstakingly learnt, and following them even when there's no one there to see her starts to grate, it's like a blindfold being removed or something bc she suddenly feels like such a stranger in her own life, picking out colours for the wallpaper like who am i? (zoolander looking at his reflection style x)

and this is where the whole sybillily plot begins so i won't go too deep into this bc i've already been talking for far too long oh my god and they haven't even died yet, but anyway she basically shrugs off the role of the aristocrat's wife and finds that brash, rosy-cheeked girl again as she falls in love with sybill. most of the time during those two months, james and harry are farrr from her mind, but occasionally a servant will come across her staring into a newly-built, unlit fireplace, james' last letter in her hand, cheeks stained with tears, and assume she's just missing them, rather than that she's being overcome by a bone-deep sense of impending doom mixed with some guilt about the fact that she doesn't even feel properly guilty bc she's just so disconnected from that whole life now. it doesn't feel quite real.

and it still doesn't feel real when she gets the news that they've died, that james and harry have drowned, just off the coast of the island, on a boat coming to meet her. what feels real is the way that sybill has shut herself away from her. i think there's again guilt about not feeling more guilty. guilt, like i said another time, about the fact that, before the shipwreck, she had wished they didn't exist and now they're not in her life anymore but they're more present than ever bc they're coming between her and sybill in a way that they probably wouldn't have done even if they had made it to the island and she can't help thinking that they died wrong.

there's a kind of irrational anger about the way that she would never have met sybill if it weren't for james, if it weren't for the potter summer house on the island, and the kind of horrible cyclicality in how her and sybill's relationship started and ended because of james. and more irrational anger at j&h for making sybill feel guilty for not being in the lighthouse. and the things she feels are all about what's happened to her and sybill rather than like, her husband and son dying. the tears she sheds are all for her and sybill, grieving that relationship rather than her marriage or motherhood. maybe she's a bit like 'i could've told them not to come, i should've told them not to come' but it would all be bc of what that would mean for her and sybill if they hadn't. if that makes any sense. what i think i'm trying to say is that the whole jily part of lily's life in this fic is kinda eclipsed by the major impact that sybill has on her, like she kinda shakes it off like a bad dream and ignores the fact that the island and sybill, despite how real it feels, isn't her real life at all. i imagine her entirely dry-eyed when she's like identifying their dead bodies or whatever, but like full-on sobbing, weeping, falling to pieces as sybill continues to refuse to let her in to the lighthouse.

anyway oh my god i'm so sorry this is so absurdly long!!!!!! i am physically incapable of shutting the fuck up!!!!!!! whoops!!!!!!!!

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hello. Your top 10 (or whatever) of Bella's favorite ridiculous decisions or actions?

I'm not sure I have a particular order so I suppose I'll list out ten things off the top of my head.

Bella's Motivation to Move to Forks

Now, this is mostly just sad, and offers some very key insight into Bella's relationship with her mother and her general childhood, however, the decision making in and of itself is delightfully ridiculous.

Bella's going to stop being a burden to her mother by moving to Forks right after her mother got married. She will give no one a reasonable response of why she suddenly up and moved, with little warning, and will badly lie through her teeth that she loves Forks when she's hated it for years.

To Renee, this undoubtedly looks like a) Bella is mad at her for remarrying b) Bella hates Phil c) Potentially... Phil did something very bad to Bella.

Bella, however, has no idea.

It never crosses her mind in the narration that this is what people assumed happen.

She realizes her decision is a bit odd but she doesn't think it's utterly bizarre and is more wallowing in her completely self-imposed misery.

Hallucination Edward

Granted, Bella's severely depressed here, but the whole Hallucination Edward arc is a ride.

First, when making a blatantly poor decision, Bella actually hallucinates Edward telling her not to do it. Rather than be mildly concerned that she hallucinated her boyfriend, Bella doubles down, and purposefully puts herself in as much peril as possible so as to keep hallucinating Edward.

She then never tells anyone she was doing any of this to hallucinate Edward and, again, doesn't seem to realize any of this was strange or concerning.

You don't hallucinate your ex-boyfriend?

I Will Stab Myself to Save the Day

Bella gets invited to a tribal meeting and Billy tells a story. The moral of the story is very clearly that vampires are man-eating demons who are the stuff of horror stories with no hint of humanity or compassion.

Bella skips that part and zeroes in on the third wife stabbing herself so as to distract the vampire.

"I can do that," Bella says.

Or rather, what she says is in a Troy Maclure voice, "It's the part I was born to play, baby."

Bella then proceeds to try to do this and gets Edward asking, "What the fuck, Bella?!"

And Bella's response is that she thought she was being helpful!

We Should Hide in the Place No One Will Ever Look: My Hometown

When Bella's on the run in Twilight from James she proposes that they go to Phoenix. Why?

She said she was going to Phoenix.

See, because she said it, James will never look there.

Nevermind that's the first place he's going to look because a) she said it, b) she has family there.

Nevertheless Bella, Edward, and Emmett consider this to be a tricksy, brilliant, plan.

James finds her less than twenty-four hours later.

He Swam to France?!

Bella gets the weirdest things out of stories. She actually generally doesn't care what people say much if at all.

Edward goes on this long, rambly, monologue of how Carlisle was turned into a vampire. Bella's not uninterested, it sounds like an exciting story in theory, but what she zeroes in on is the idea of Carlisle swimming to France.

Edward stops and stares at her.

"Yes, Bella, humans do that too."

She stares back.

"Right, I knew that, it just sounded strange in context."

It didn't sound strange in context.

(Bella has a few other moments like this such as hyper focusing on Edward's human eyes being green when Carlisle's trying to tell her that Edward believes he has no soul and that if she became a vampire she'd become a soulless husk. Rosalie's story is a similar moment, though there it's more that Bella decides "well, I never wanted a baby, so I'm good" and not thinking anything else about what Rosalie said.)

Bella's Reaction to Edward's Everything

Edward says he planned to meticulously murder the entire Biology class, to murder Bella, so he could have her sweet sweet blood be warm for long enough to devour.

This is right after confessing that he is, in fact, a vampire.

Bella says essentially, "Cool story, bro" and thinks it proves his love to her that he likes her so much he overcame his burning desire to eat her all the time.

In the next sentence, he confesses to having at first despised her because her scent ruined his existence as well as the fact that his family voted on her assassination.

He then runs around a meadow, purposefully being terrifying (honestly, I imagine Jack Nicholson in the Shining here but with more glitter) and Bella thinks it's all wonderful.

Everybody Hates Me

This is a more normal, teenage, thing but Bella not only has the world's lowest self-esteem but she assumes everyone hates her. Someone didn't talk to her at lunch: they hate her. Jasper doesn't talk to her? He hates her too (even though he does this so as not to eat her).

Bella generally assumes people have strong negative feelings about her when they probably generally don't care in the least.

The Vote to Turn Bella into a Vampire

Right when Bella gets back to Forks she goes to the Cullen house and makes them, who barely know her, awkwardly vote to her face if she should join their family forever or not while Edward seethes in the background.

Granted, it was the only way to get it done and she'd lost all faith in Edward doing it, but despite losing all faith in Edward wanting to be with her forever... she tries to fix that by forcing his family to make her be with him forever...

And doesn't see this as a glaring red flag for their relationship...

I can't even imagine being a Cullen in that moment.

Conclusion

I could keep going, but honestly, it's every time Bella opens her mouth or thinks about anything.

I do feel for Edward in the sense that, if the novels weren't from Bella's point of view, we would have no idea what the fuck she's on about.

[neon-in-the-night-time]

on may 12th, 2019, season 3 episode 3 of miraculous ladybug bakerix was released. a high schooler, i watched it as soon as the english sub was out. at the time, knowing nothing about bread, i questioned nothing of what the show told us of what's traditional in bread baking. 5 years, a full academic year's worth of classes in breads and viennoiserie, and partway through an internship at a bread bakery later, i am returning to the episode to see how badly astruc fucked up. let's do this.

ok u know what? i’m turning on the french dub with english sub... i don't want to hear any "cat noir"s here it's chat noir

ok i know i’m watching this for the bread but she KNITS her dad a WHOLE ASS SWEATER evERY YEAR for his birthday? holy fuckingn shit marinette where do u find the time... his birthday is TODAY and she has like a tenth of one panel done? holy shit marinette ur cooked

"he's a little old fashioned in his ways" ...he was racist, wasn't he? i feel like i remember the reason mari's grandpa became a hermit was bc tom married sabine

what the fuck is tom doing to that loaf of bread dough... the tiniest of folds lmao

bro* gets a flour delivery of a single bag of flour lmao... looks like a 50 lb but idk. no way that mailman is just casually hauling that over his shoulder. idk. i don't know how strong mailmen are

*bro being rolland dupain

ok but why is marinette struggling to carry the bag of flour... does she not help her parents in the bakery? i couldve sworn that was a plot point... or maybe it was fanfiction.

also the animation is waaaaaay higher quality than i remember... perks of not watching it on youtube i guess

what the fuck is rolland doing... only folding half the dough. why is he sprinkling salt onto it. more importantly why is he fucking with these mice

ok i mean like. you definitely want elasticity and developing gluten... but that's in the mixing stage. this is clearly after the dividing... that dough is hella overworked

bro doesn't like vegetables and cheese in bread.... so he's one of Those people. got it

"my son and his wife who thought adding rice to the dough would make the inside of the bread lighter" ...i’m sorry THAT'S what it was about? also wtf? rolland's right! why would you want the inside to be LIGHTER? you WANT a nicely developed crust! also i sure as hell hope tom and sabine aren't doing that to their baguettes because then it's not legally a baguette (i forget if it's in paris specifically or france broadly but either way if you're baguettes have anything except flour water salt and yeast it's not legally a baguette). also adding rice flour... wouldn't reeeeeeally lighten the inside?

damn rolland is so immature

so he puts the bread in the oven, then gets akumatized... damn this akuma fight's on a timer lmao don't wanna come back from fighting ur grandpa only to realize your bread is burnt

also love how they didn't even say what kinda bread it is (/s) like come on. is it pain au levain? sourdough? based on the shape, color, and way it's loaded i assume it's not any kind of sandwich bread. but no. everyone knows there are two types of bread: Round and Baguette

ooooh the akuma's name in the french dub is boulangerix... that's way better than bakerix. bakerix is a stupid name

watching this i think it mightve actually came out in a dub that wasn't french first. idk tho

most likely the akuma fight won't have a lot of bread shit i can critique

lmao the minute rolland deakumatizes he's worrying about the bread in the oven 😂 me too bro

that bread was not floured or scored before they loaded it into the oven lmao

not chat noir trying to get out of picking a favorite lmao

moral of the story: rolland was right except for when he was wrong and astruc knows nothing about bread

[panlight]

Any possible headcanons about the Cullens' human relatives? Looks, names, personalities, futures, etc. I kinda imagine Rosalie has French-English ancestry (her name is a possible hint at that) while her mother's family came from old money in France instead of that odd social climber backstory we got...

I had always assumed Esme had some French roots at least on one side of her family. 'Esme' just reads as a very French name to me, although more likely spelled Esmée. Maybe she's simplified it over the years? I wondered if maybe one side of her family was French-Canadian and immigrated to Ohio.

I still love the idea that one of Rosalie's little brothers was named Edward. It would just feed into her complicated relationship with 'our' Edward. I imagine he was called maybe Ted or Teddy (which can be a nickname for Edward as well as Theodore) or something but just Rosalie resenting Edward for trying to be her new brother AND having the same name as Teddy, rude! But it also weirdly endears him to her in a way she'd never admit out loud. And the few times she's slipped up and called him 'Teddy' he didn't call her out on it (at least in the moment, possibly later during a fight).

I've also always liked the idea that Rosalie's youngest brother is still alive; as we get further and further away from 1915 that becomes less likely, but if he were several years younger than Rose then he could be 100 or so and still alive. Love the idea that she found out which nursing home he's in and she visits him sometimes and he tells the staff, "she's my sister" and they're all like "sure, Mr. Hale," and think he's senile but he's right.

I feel like Carlisle inherited his height from his father (as well as stubbornness), but otherwise he's much more like his mother, in looks and personality. His height in his time period would be unusual but I can see his father commanding respect with, not only as a pastor but as a literally towering figure in the local community. I think Pastor Cullen was probably always A Lot but after the death of his wife he got Worse. She was a calming, moderating influence on him. And then she died and he was all like "well God saw that she was distracting me for my Work and so He called her home" or whatever.

I think Edward's mom probably had some lowkey latent psychic ability as well and that was part of why she knew to ask Carlisle to do 'what others cannot do,' for Edward. I don't know that she 100% knew/understood, but she had some idea. I also get Irish Catholic vibes from her, but that could be because my grandmother was Irish Catholic.

I don't really have much in the way of headcanons for anyone else's families, other than Emmett's being sort of like the Weasleys in that they were a big family, didn't have a lot of money, but had a lot of love and laughter. And mostly boys. Jasper's family is a big ??? but in the personal correspondence on the Twilight Lexicon SM mentioned he had a younger sister, but she didn't make it into the guide. Alice's family gets the most description in the guide although weirdly no names? They were invented for one of the short films. Found it funny they named Alice's mom "Lillian" when that was Rosalie's middle name. Like if I had to bet, I'd have guessed that was Rose's mom's name rather than Alice's mom.

[abybweisse]

I had a question about something I had always thought of as odd is in Kuroshitsuji. Ciel and Elizabeth had been betrothed since childhood, and that on its own isn’t that weird. But then I remember that Vincent married Rachel (who is not related to him like Ciel and Lizzie are) for love and they didn’t even meet until they were older, and the same is presumed for Frances and Alexis. Do you think that there might be any plot related reasons for why the Phantomhive family (particularly Vincent and Frances who likely arranged for this) would have chosen to have those two marry? Perhaps anything related to their lineage?

Reasons for marriages

Well, let's back up... slightly... about why Vincent and Rachel get married. I'm not saying they don't love each other, because they definitely do. It's just that I'm not exactly sold on the idea that's the only reason he proposes and she accepts. At the time, and particularly among the nobility and royalty, marriages are pretty much never just for love; they are nearly always strategic... and it's just wonderful if there's also a love connection.

Someone like Vincent Phantomhive, the queen's watchdog, has to choose a wife wisely. She doesn't necessarily have to be in the best physical health, but she must have certain qualities, especially regarding personality and intelligence. They meet in the first place through her father, who probably counts among the "evil nobles" already. I've said this... somewhere, quite some time ago... that Vincent probably makes it known he's looking for a wife, and everyone in his network makes suggestions. He agrees to meet the ones that sound the most promising. Of course, his associates with young maiden relatives are going to try to get them married into the Phantomhive family, unless it would be too much of a peerage downgrade.

That said, Rachel's father probably would have been okay with Vincent choosing either of his daughters. It's just that it was definitely customary to marry off the oldest daughter first. Besides, I think Angelina is about 15 when Rachel is 17/18. Vincent canonically (because Yana-san says so) is already self conscious about the age gap between himself and Rachel -- about 6 years. So, it really puts things into perspective how unrealistic Angelina is to ever think she might have a chance with Vincent. He is nice to her but probably sees her as a kid, and he speaks to her in third person just like Rachel does. Like "Angelina's hair is lovely...", etc. to her, not to someone else about her.

Anyway, Vincent meets with Rachel a few times, where they get to know each other better, and they decide they are a good match. More importantly, Vincent must decide that she fits all his criteria... whatever that might entail. Then, given the formalities of the time, Vincent asks Rachel's father for his permission to propose.

For Francis/Frances and Alexis, it seems they meet during a fencing challenge... where she clearly prevails. And he falls madly in love with her, not just for her skill but also presumably because she's beautiful. After that, I have to assume he woos her until she accepts his proposal. Her mother is dead by then, and her father is... well... I think Alexis is led to believe that her father is also dead. They likely don't ask for anyone's approval... besides perhaps Vincent, with him being official head of the family by then, and he has no particular reason to say no. She gets bumped up in the peerage, too, so it's a bonus.

With Ciel and Lizzie, yes. I think there is a strategic reason for betrothing them... which probably happens as soon as the twins are born, if not before. It strengthens family ties, financially, etc... but it could also be a matter of special lineage -- say, a known reaper in the direct line of both kids. And Lizzie, from a very young age, is being trained to be the perfect wife of the queen's watchdog; that's something else her mom and Vincent might have planned as early as possible.

Notice that we've never heard about a betrothal for Edward. It could be that he's also betrothed and we've simply never heard, since it's not important to the story. Or it could be they didn't bother to arrange a marriage for him, since the Phantomhives don't have any daughters -- this would strengthen the idea that Ciel and Lizzie's betrothal is strategic. Personally, I hope he gets to marry for love... and I hope he ends up with Paula, despite the fact she's not in the peerage. He could raise her status, and that would be nice. Honestly, I hope that... after all this is over... Lizzie gets to find someone for herself and marry for love.

[banjo-snail-punchy]

I'm curious about Rose's husband and what happened to him. Who was he? What brought him to Rose? Why did he cause her to miscarry? Where is he now?

There have been some details about him that were redacted from Rose's document, mainly to wipe away any trace of his abuse.

Before he met Rose, Joshua was a man who held higher regard for his own joy rather than for a woman. He was wealthy, a successful businessman, and had enough to travel. This gave him the idea that he could find a new wife outside of America. He wasn't fond of the Women's Suffrage Movement at all, not understanding why women couldn't be subservient and happy. And so, he assumed he could swindle a starry-eyed foreigner into his arms and be his good little wife who didn't understand the changes America was experiencing.

But Rose was not typical. She had grown up in severe poverty along with other abandoned children that their parents couldn't care for. She was smart and could see through a facade, and yet she still wished for her dream to visit America to come true. She had grown tired of the slums of France and wanted to see New York.

The relationship was nothing but transactional. Joshua did bring in a beautiful Frenchwoman from another country, and yet he was surprised by how swift and steady she was with keeping him in his place. She bit back, she didn't like his attitude and she didn't like being tied down. It frustrated him that he might've brought home a harlot. They didn't get along at all, but the game of pretend had to go on. He wanted to have a wife to show off and Rose wanted one thing from him.

A child.

For so long she wanted to be a mother, even if she knew she wasn't in the best situation, she wanted nothing more than to be a mother. But no matter how many times they tried, or how many times they failed to stay aroused with each other, Rose couldn't get pregnant. That is until she decided to screw Joshua over and sleep with his friend. She hated Joshua enough to pinch a nerve.

Being frisky with his friend behind his back, Rose was happy to announce she was pregnant. But this news was odd to Joshua because he knew they were struggling for a long time. So, he investigated what his 'wife' did while he was none the wiser.

He found out about the affair and it flew him into a rage. Scaring off his friend from their home, Rose and Joshua got into a verbal fight that became physical. Rose felt no sympathy for what she did, sneering that she was ready to leave now that she finally had the child she'd been wanting.

"You'll leave with nothing." Joshua lastly said before he shoved Rose down the flight of stairs. She landed at the bottom of the steps, bruised and blistered with blood. When her hand went to feel her extended stomach, she felt nothing move.

Joshua had taken back what Rose wanted, and it made her silently snap.

In the old place in France where the children robbed, killed, and ate flesh to survive, Rose decided she was going to bring back those old talents of hers and make sure not one piece of skin or flesh of Joshua was left behind.

[jestersdlc]

PLEASE tell me more about your little insect guys (gn) i love them dearly 🙏🙏🙏 /nf

this is about that thing. about the asks about the ocs. by the way :3

-🐜 (person you definitely do not know /silly)

I can tell you more about their project AND them all as a whole! :D

Congratulations, you have triggered an unskippable cutscene dearest friend :3 /silly

Because it will no doubt be a long ramble it will be under the cut along with some lil doods of the few drawings I have of the beans in question (I need to redo them and make proper designs for.....most of them still but theres some! And a spider one, so....) Cw insect and spider character along with WALL of text.

My lil insect beans are for a lil project I call 'Butterflies and Monarchs'

Which is....as you can assume about butterflies (and other insects) and BOTH meanings of the word monarchs as in European royal hierarchy and monarch butterflies :3

I have a lil summary for it here (A benefit of an old film class even if I plan to either write it like a novel or make it a graphic novel once I dont suffer doing backgrounds....as much)

A duchess to be, discontented with her duty to marry her betrothed. Getting off on the wrong foot with her betrothed she meets a mystery man at a masquerade ball and slowly becomes closer to both trying to unravel who they really are and her feelings to decide if she’ll follow her heart or her responsibilities before it's too late.

The project leans into history for 1700's europe (specifically france but with ties to england and italy as well for history and aesthetics) along with heavy flower motifs, formal prose and COLOR is a big thing! :D (.....boy doesn't this sound familiar Ahem....Pink ....niche special interests, themes and motifs will be used again and again)

But the main character is a hybrid moth/butterfly Marquise Montella Noelle Dubois from the Marigold kingdom

(These are....very old drawings but you get an idea from them....) Montella is based on a Monarch butterfly and a white satin moth, her wings are very muted during the day but glow in the pattern of a monarchs at night or in dim/dark settings ^-^

Her kingdom is themed after marigolds, old england(mixed with france), and orange, gold and white colors. She also has a few additional monikers she goes by (tho its very blatanly stated its still her....unlike with others under pseudonyms :3)

....while she's the main character I don't have much to say about her (the side characters take the show at times, she just TECHNICALLY moves the plot along with her sappy attempts at romance and diplomatics with her betrothed) but she's meant to be very sweet (if oblivious....) character ^-^

And while I sadly don't have drawings for them I want to mention Montella's parents (who are barely seen but....I love the Earl he's a joy)

Duchess Genevieve Madeleine Dubois, a satin moth and main ruler of the Marigold kingdom (YES its equally ruled by both her and her husband, but she has the higher status and thus is mentioned first) She's a very posh lady, formal and polite, not the most outwardly affectionate (unlike her husband) (I imagine she's very fluffy and keeps her fluff kept silky smooth and neat at all times)

and Earl Montgomery Emmet Dubois a very exuberant (and frankly obnoxious) monarch butterfly, he's loud and jovial and very different from his wife XD (He's wonderful even if he's not seen much, I actually have a chunk of a draft for the first....chapterish of the script for the project if you'd want to see that, it's rough and from like....2 years ago but you get a better feel for the Montella, her parents, Anton and his courtship partner Whilemena :3)

Moving on! We of course have (possibly your favorite) Anton Alfred McKnight the golden ant and personal guard to Montella (who often escapes him much to his nerves dismay) who is sent off to the Cornflower kingdom with her!

And his courtship partner Wilhemena Hayden Elffire who is a sweet little firefly gal, she's a tad forgetful but makes up for it in spirit! She's Montella's personal maid/handmaiden in the Marigold kingdom (she unfortunately was NOT sent with as the Cornflower kingdom has someone to assist Montella while she stayed there) but her and Anton are a sweet lil background couple (She's strong enough to bowl over Anton it's hilarious to see.)

Moving on to the Cornflower kingdom! With main themes being old england/italy, Cornflowers, and the colors black, blue and silver!

We have Montella's betrothed! Marqui Dominic Azure D'Angeli He is a hybrid of a Black rustic moth and a Blue morpho butterfly. He has plain black wings like his father.

Duke Valentine Cosimo D’Angeli. Dominics father, a black rustic moth. A very diplomatic and courteous moth.

Lady Verity Bernadette D’Angeli. A blue morpho butterfly, she is very passive, she's sweet but a touch meek (she was once but a commoner)

Count Atticus Victor Dior. A blue morpho butterfly, and Dominic's elder half brother from Lady Verity's past marriage. (He is also a very big jerk, high and mighty yet never to be next in line because HE IS A JERK (that's literally the only reason, he wasn't chosen because he's a jerk XD)) He's very antagonistic to Montella

Lady Jezebel Ernestine Bellarosa, a frequent companion to Atticus. She's a blue wasp and from a seperate kingdom originally but moved here in her youth (I FORGET ITS NAME BUT ITS PURPLE THEMED) she's initially rather antagonistic as well (Atticus is a TERRIBLE influence...) but she warms up to Montella's kindness (and may not be as straight as she thought she was-)

MOVING ON! We have the mysterious mystery mothman (or he LOOKS like a moth....who's to say :3) that is Sir Azure with his glowing blue wings and ever present mask, a quick companion to Montella, of course SOME people know who he is, but he's a mystery to Montella and supposed to be to the reader (I do love me some mystery after all :3)

Pierre Armand Du’Bleu the head royal guard! And the beloved blue mantis man, cool and collected and unnervingly never seems to blink, only stare passively, constantly. And the one to constantly get on Ant's nerves <3

(I like this better then the ref dood of him so this one it is! :3)

Mrs. Lavinia Estelle Bazil, personaly maid/handmaiden of Montella while she stays in the cornflower kingdom. A blue bumblebee! She's quite the hardworker and always to the point (She also has a partner, but they are only ever mentioned to be a green scarab and a carpenter :3)

AND last but not leastttttttt Horatio André Clément (beloved bean....) personal butler/handservant to Dominic, he's a lil blue peacock spider and is intersex! (debating giving him he/they pronouns since he originally was just he/him...or they/he TBD!!)

I love Horatio, he's a lil silent sweetheart, very shy and very quiet.

Anddddd that's all summarizing everyone and the actual story summary without going toooooo indepth

Unskippable cutscene complete! /silly