#Convention on Consent to Marriage

[slaveryabolitionday]

Eradicate Forced Marriage!

Marriage before the age of 18 is a fundamental violation of human rights. Many factors interact to place a child at risk of marriage, including poverty, the perception that marriage will provide ‘protection’, family honor, social norms, customary or religious laws that condone the practice, an inadequate legislative framework and the state of a country’s civil registration system. While the practice is more common among girls than boys, it is a violation of rights regardless of sex.

Child marriage often compromises a girl’s development by resulting in early pregnancy and social isolation, interrupting her schooling, limiting her opportunities for career and vocational advancement and placing her at risk of domestic violence. Although the impact on child grooms has not been extensively studied, marriage may similarly place boys in an adult role for which they are unprepared, and may place economic pressures on them and curtail their opportunities for further education or career advancement.

Cohabitation – when a couple lives ‘in union’, as if married – raises the same human rights concerns as marriage. When a couple cohabitates, the assumption is often that they are adults, even if one or both has not yet reached the age of 18. Additional concerns due to the informality of the relationship – in terms of inheritance, citizenship and social recognition, for example – may make children in informal unions vulnerable in different ways than those who are formally married.

The issue of child marriage is addressed in a number of international conventions and agreements. The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, for example, covers the right to protection from child marriage in article 16, which states: “The betrothal and the marriage of a child shall have no legal effect, and all necessary action, including legislation, shall be taken to specify a minimum age for marriage….” The right to ‘free and full’ consent to marriage is recognized in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which says that consent cannot be ‘free and full’ when one of the parties involved is not sufficiently mature to make an informed decision about a life partner. Although marriage is not mentioned directly in the Convention on the Rights of the Child, child marriage is linked to other rights – such as the right to freedom of expression, the right to protection from all forms of abuse, and the right to be protected from harmful traditional practices – and is frequently addressed by the Committee on the Rights of the Child. Other international agreements related to child marriage are the Convention on Consent to Marriage, Minimum Age for Marriage and Registration of Marriages, the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child and the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa.

[anonymousbardd]

Character Headcanons

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: How You Met

↳ Various x FemReader

- The following characters are: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, and Gongseob Ji.

ʚɞ ┊: Gun Park

↳ Gun isn't typically a lady's man, he prefers to get stronger and earn more money than ever, he'd do anything just for money, that's why he agreed to join forces in the first place.

Though when chairman Choi suggested marrying the young daughter of the alliance company, he wasn't exactly too thrilled.

When he first met (F/n), they didn't exactly get along, both had different views of the world and both had different priorities.

(F/n)'s priority was to give and to help, while Gun's were to kill just to get.

After some time, both alliances tried to set multiple dates for the two, though they weren't of consent, (F/n) and Gun were civil and handled it maturely.

Eventually, they grew quite fond of eachother, though they don't admit it.

(F/n) would constantly look out for Gun, she would treat his wounds and scold him for smoking and what not, Gun on the other hand brushed her off.

After all, their engagement were just of convenience, there was no point in trying to get attached.

Although, the changes in Gun was slightly noticeable, when confronted about it, he denies all accusations and gets frustrated.

So what if he doesn't smoke as often as he used to? Everybody knows that smoking is a bad habit.

So what if he starts to take care of himself? He needs to do so in order to fight better.

So what if he bought himself a small keychain that reminded him of his Fiancé? It was just a reminder of the contract he has to respect.

And so what if he found himself thinking about the young woman every night before he goes to bed? Though their soon to be marriage is only of convenience, it doesn't mean that he should treat her less.

After all, (F/n) is his wife to be.

ʚɞ ┊: Goo Kim

↳ Much like Gun, he prefers money over women, he also has a bit of a habit of spending a shit tone when he's upset, he doesn't care, he's got more money than he could count.

In a spectacular day, he found himself roaming around in an anime convention, he only had one goal, and that is to get as much Katanas he could.

He looked around and enjoyed himself, taking pictures with a few cosplayers, getting a bit of keychains and what not.

The moment he laid eyes on a man cosplaying one of his favourite characters, he immediately went by to say hi, the man was handsome looking, pale skin, sharp eyes and tall.

He was surprised to learn that it was actually a woman.

Goo couldn't believe his eyes that a woman is able to pull such a masculine cosplay, when the cosplayer asked him about the huge Katana haul, he excitedly explained that it was one of his favourite weapons.

The two talked for a bit and took a picture together, the cosplayer left Goo a small custom keychain and headed off.

A few days later, Goo found himself saving a young woman who was dresses up as a video game character from a group of perverts.

He was surprised when the cosplayer recognised him, and he was even more surprised when he found out that it was the same cosplayer he met a few days ago.

The cosplayer wanted to thank Goo so she ended up showing him her collections of swords, katanas and other weapons, Goo was over the moon and kept on drooling over the displays.

The cosplayer was kind enough to give Goo two weapons.

Goo never forget about it and has those two weapons displayed in his home, he also kept in contact with the cosplayer and goes out for coffee whenever he's free.

ʚɞ ┊: Samuel Seo

↳ It was a long night, Samuel's original plan was to drink the night away, he wasn't at all expecting to meet a talented woman.

He met (F/n) at a bar, she was singing a song, she was a stage performer.

After her performance, she tumbled upon Samuel, they noticed each other's presence but didn't speak.

What lead to them was the bartender, both of them had ordered the same drink and when the bartender placed down the fixated alcohol, Samuel and (F/n) reached out to grab it.

(F/n) was first to apologize, she claimed that she didn't know it was his, Samuel was already a bit tipsy by that point and thought about having a bit of fun.

The two of them ended up sharing the drink, they ordered a couple more as they continued to speak to each other.

It was the typical "fuck I fell in love in a one night stand".

Now Samuel bothers (F/n) in any chance he could.

ʚɞ ┊: Jake Kim

↳ Sinu tried to set up his dear Jake and his dear sister in law, Jake was of course not ideally please with the idea.

Although, he did end up agreeing due to Sinu's persistent PESTERING.

They ended up talking in a café, it went smoothly, it was a slow burn trope for the two, it took them a year and a half to actually admit they had feelings for eachother. — (Speaking from soon to be experience hehe).

Sinu was proud of himself being the source of the newly blossomed relationship.

ʚɞ ┊: Gongseob Ji

↳ (F/n) was unfortunate enough to found herself in a club with Gongseob Ji, she was only there because of her friends, Gongseob was there to pickup girls.

And sadly, (F/n) was the one he took interest in the most.

Once he found out that the two of them went to the same highschool, he began to attend school just to see her everyday.

Gongseob didn't really want anything else other than a sweet relief, but as he continued to appear any place (F/n) was, his friends started to tease him.

That's when he slowly questioned his feelings, and that's when he found out he actually liked her.

He wasn't discreet about it, he told her as soon as he found out.

It took a while but he was able to take her out to dinner after saving her from a group of delinquents.

༝༚༝༚𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚍

[saintsenara]

Do you think the wizarding world even has a concept of rape? I don't think this was JKR's intent but love potions are considered perfectly legal, Romilda Vane doesn't get in trouble, Dumbledore doesn't seem to think Merope did anything wrong to Tom Riddle Sr., and despite a member of Magical Law Enforcement witnessing lots of sketchy stuff at the Gaunts' no one steps in to help Merope. Plus we know their society is archaic and lacks modern values - ie. quills, slavery, lack of democracy

it's a great question pal.

the answer for which is under the cut, for the obvious reason that it comes with a trigger warning for rape.

when the statute of secrecy was signed in 1689, rape - defined as "the carnal knowledge of a woman forcibly and against her will" - had been illegal under english law since the middle ages.

however, the "against her will" bit is important here. in the seventeenth century, it was a legal requirement for a victim of rape to prove that she had maintained a continuous state of physical resistance during her assault. in cases where a victim could not prove this, her consent was presumed - even if she had been incapacitated in some way. unsurprisingly, consent was always assumed between husbands and wives.

men could not be raped under the letter of seventeenth-century english law - but the rape and sexual assault of men was illegal under buggery [sodomy] laws, and was often taken much more seriously by the state...

and i think we can plausibly say - should we want to - that, on the basis of what we find in canon, the wizarding world might retain this legal requirement for rape to be indisputably resisted, and that this explains why love potions seem to have no repercussions attached to them.

because, of course, love potions essentially function like date rape drugs, even if they leave their victims appearing to be of sound mind [the officiant who married tom and merope wasn't suspicious of anything, for example - and the only reason ron is so badly affected by the love potion he takes is because it was out of date] . they incapacitate a person to the extent that they cannot offer legitimate consent to sexual acts, and they also incapacitate them to the extent that they cannot physically resist their attacker - in their case, by compelling the person dosed with the potion to regard their attacker as someone they want to have near them.

therefore, if wizarding law only considers rape to be something which is accompanied by evidence of resistance... then using a love potion on somebody would not be rape.

the cultural implications of this are fascinating - especially since [no matter what jkr thinks] the wizarding world appears to be restrictive [by the standards of muggle britain in the 1990s and 2000s - although, unfortunately for those of us on our high horses about coming from a superior nation, not by the standards of muggle ireland...] in terms of conventions surrounding sexual behaviour and gendered expectations placed upon women.

the marriage age for women is extremely low [any woman whose wedding date we can pin-point in canon - molly weasley, andromeda tonks, lily potter, fleur delacour - gets married as a teenager]; the age for having children is also much lower than it was in the muggle world - and even than it was in the muggle world of the 1940s-1980s [all four of the women above fall pregnant before they're twenty-one, for example]; unmarried couples don't seem to live together, and there's clearly a social taboo against premarital sex [molly weasley gets a lot of flack from the fandom for making bill and fleur sleep in separate bedrooms, but nobody in the story regards this as prudish or old-fashioned]; divorce doesn't seem to be common [and blaise zabini's mother killing her husbands certainly takes on a new flavour if we assume that divorce is extremely difficult... or even illegal]; and married women - at least in the middle- and upper-classes - don't seem to work.

i also think that it's canonically plausible that arranged marriage, including between cousins, is a common cultural practice [sirius' comment in order of the phoenix about parents "letting" their children marry basically confirms this, i think] - which means we can also imagine, if we'd like, that there's perhaps little legal distinction between arranged and forced marriage.

obviously - obviously - i don't think that any of these are things the doylist text intended. the reason the story says very little about sex - both consensual and otherwise - or law or gender norms is because the harry potter series is a story about a boy-wizard who goes to a cool magic school and fights a good-versus-evil battle to the death which was written for children. i don't begrudge the publishers for not fancying a hundred pages on harry learning how to put on a condom...

[and the low marriage/childbearing ages genuinely seem to be because jkr is functionally innumerate and didn't realise how young she was suggesting everyone was...]

but from a watsonian perspective, they're really interesting - especially for the extremely disturbing paths they can lead us down as authors when we're trying to flesh out the worldbuilding of magical britain.

what - for example - is the wizarding age of consent? and how would this impact how wizards understand sexual maturity, adult-child power relations, and child abuse?

[after all, if the age of consent is unchanged from 1689... it could be as low as ten. which goes some way towards explaining why nobody thinks of tom riddle as grooming ginny...]

and does the law consider it possible for a wizard to rape his wife? and if it doesn't, what does it think about him beating her?

what legal rights do sex workers have in the wizarding world?

is abortion legal? is contraception? is homosexuality? does gay sex have a higher age of consent?

is divorce legal? can women initiate a divorce? how are single mothers treated [and, therefore, what was lupin willing to do to tonks by walking out on her]? how are the children of unmarried parents treated? what property and inheritance rights do women have? are marriages performed by muggles - or dissolved by them - recognised by the wizarding state? what position does this put a witch [like eileen snape] who marries a muggle man in? would a wizard who marries a muggle woman and then abandons her be committing bigamy if he married a witch?

would wizards ever be punished for sexual offences against muggle women? does merope get away with attacking tom sr. in the eyes of the wizarding state because of her gender or because he's a muggle or both? could a muggle raped by a wizard even report the crime?

what modesty standards are there in terms of dress and behaviour? what would wizarding feminism look like? what is it like to be muggleborn [especially from the 1960s onwards] and enter this world?

i think i'm inclined to take the grimmest possible view of all of these questions, to be quite honest...

the wizarding world is fucked up.

[enbycrip]

I was discussing with a mate what actively makes a piece of media Queer as opposed to just featuring same-gender attraction.

I am a big fan of Queer being a verb as well as an adjective.

I wouldn’t call Romeo and Juliet queer because while it’s transgressive within the frame of the narrative, it’s *not* transgressive within the wider cultural framing? A young hetero couple from different sides of a conflict being married was so incredibly acceptable that it was a long-established practice for establishing peace - to the extent that the Friar even mentions that within the text as part of his reason for facilitating the marriage outside the strict norms of parental consent and acceptance?

Plus the whole framing of choice-led marriage as a force for societal harmony was such an influential trope at that particular period, particularly within Elizabethan England’s newly Protestant culture? Virginity was no longer prized the way it had been in a more Catholic culture, nor was the remote idealisation of courtly love. Instead you get a young different-gender couple who choose *married love*. In the context this was written, this was almost the *opposite* of Queer.

I’d say that, for a text to be Queer, it needs to not only transgress both norms internal and external to the text, but also flip those norms in a way that actively invites the reader to reconsider those norms in a new light? It’s why I’d call so many of Shakespeare’s comedies queer in a way Romeo and Juliet isn’t, because, even though everything goes hetero at the end to fit theatrical conventions about comedies ending with a marriage, they are this space where gender becomes fluid and playful, and *that’s* what you walk away with the impression of from the play? The hetero endings are so enforced it’s kind of deliberately ridiculous?

It’s why I feel Queerness includes readings and depictions of disability that aren’t any of the standard boxes that it is so often shoved into in media. If a disabled character isn’t “inspiring”, or “pitiable”; if they’re not artificially helpless, or completely unaffected by their disability, and, more than anything, if *they* are the centre of the text, with genuine agency, and the text is about *them*, not about their effect on abled characters, that definitely queers a text to me.

And *more* so if it centres their desires and their desirability as a character. Not that they can’t be asexual; asexuality is *very* queer, but if they are not *artificially* desexualised, as disabled characters so often are.

[st-juliet]

Prompt because your work is aMAZing: when it’s before Sherlock and y/n’s wedding day, and he’s being an insufferable gentleman but she bats her eyes going “do you not want me” and he absolutely loses it 😏😏

Your Only Warning

Character: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes

Summary: Alone in the library with his betrothed, the Reader, Sherlock fights to remain a gentleman…with limited success.

Content: 18+ for incredibly filthy language, explicit description of future sexual intimacy, dominant, angsty “I AM A GENTLEMAN” Sherlock, with a side of mild “look what you’ve made me do” rhetoric from our dear detective, but for the benefit of the very eagerly consenting Reader who absolutely intended to make him do precisely what he’s done.

Notes: Thank you so much for the prompt; I loved it, and hope you like the story, Anon!

It is a rare occasion that your future husband allows you to be alone with him.

Ever the gentleman, ever possessed by the fine arts of propriety, justice, compassion, and self-discipline…all the qualities for which you find yourself more deeply in love by the day…Sherlock has become increasingly distracted, sometimes even dismissive, of your endeavors to cultivate closeness, as the day of your wedding draws near. You do not know what precisely has caused his detachment; never once has he expressed any regret for his proposal, nor suggested he does not wish to proceed with the marriage, but something has changed.

You cannot recall the last time he was tender—if ever he truly was. No soft words, nothing of your beauty, certainly, rise to your memory, even as you entertain the recollections of shared laughter, discussions of books or music, your eager interest in his cases and his equal enthusiasm to share his work with you. Meanwhile, you long to pour out your heart on the subject of his handsome face, his gorgeous eyes, how much you long for his touch, his kiss, his…

Well.

Sherlock’s true feelings for you are a mystery that only he could solve, and finding the time alone to ask him to unravel his secrets has been nigh impossible. But tonight, at another interminable dinner party for your family and his, a challenge from Enola to discover the secret passages of the Holmes estate has led you to the library, opening a hidden door behind a bookshelf to your delight…and the surprise of Sherlock, whom you discover pensively staring out the wide window behind his desk. He looks back over his shoulder, slightly startled, but smiles when he recognizes your familiar form emerging from the shadows.

“Very well done, Miss —,” he praises you, and your heart flutters happily at the accolade. “My sister will be most pleased to have such a companion as yourself with whom to roam these halls. When we can coax her back home, that is.”

“I hope you will find me a fine companion, too,” you offer, stepping out from the passageway and into the library proper. You look about you: no one else is there. Good.

“Naturally,” he replies, leaving the sanctuary of his desk, but still keeping a polite distance. “It will be entirely pleasant to share a home with you, here or in London. I have too long breakfasted alone, beginning the day in sullen silence, only to let supper grow cold, too, for want of more companionable nourishment.”

“Yes, I quite look forward to that, too,” you reply politely, a few tears of disappointment pooling in the corners of your eyes. His once ardent interest truly does seem to have waned into a wish for company over meals. Still, your hope preservers; perhaps this is only a gentlemanly demurring from more intimate matters? You have had some success in delving into his captivating mind. What line of inquiry might unlock his heart?

“And you must never hesitate to make use of this library.”

“Thank you. But…Mr. Holmes…”

“Yes?”

“I mean…certainly we shall share other…other rooms, too?”

“Of course. You must be honest with me in the correction of my bachelor habits.”

“Yes, and you must similarly address the conventions of my customary solitude.”

 These mirrored platitudes are maddening. You steel your courage and make a bolder proposition.

“But is it not true that, as is only proper, to my understanding, that when we marry, we will be…as one?”

At this, he meets your eyes for a brief, flickering moment, then turns away from you entirely, and begins to meticulously examine the books on the shelves, uttering a monosyllabic: “Ah.”

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

At long last, he clears his throat slightly and says, “I hope that if you should have any concerns of that nature, you might seek out the counsel of a recently married woman of your own age—Mrs. Watson, for example, is a lady of faultless virtue and excellent education, and might allay your fears—“

“I have no fears!” you exclaim. “I have…great anticipation. Longing, for a closeness I thought you equally desired. Sherlock, please I long to know and be known as a wife, to share with you every facet of my life, including—my…our—“

“Please, Miss —“

“But of late you scarcely look at me—“

“Dear girl,” he interrupts again. “I beg you to cease this line of inquiry!”

Your frustration bubbles over. Determinedly, you cross the room to where he stands, and slip around his hulking frame, insinuating yourself betwixt him and the bookcase, demanding his attention whether he will or no.

“What is it, Sherlock?” you ask, gazing up at him through your eyelashes, feeling your pulse quicken at his nearness. “Do you not want me?”

“Do I,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Not want you?”

In an instant, he has you restrained against the bookshelves, one hand pinned above your head and the other left to grasp frantically at his lapel, feeling the hard muscle and pounding heart beneath his fine coat, like an ember burning beneath your fingertips.

“Every moment I am plagued with wanting you! Do you not understand why I have withdrawn from you, why I must keep my distance from the woman I love?”

Sherlock lays his palm against your cheek, then slides his fingers down your neck, across your collarbones, coming to rest against the heaving swell of your breast over your gown.

“This is why. To prevent this.”

Hands over hearts, you are more closely entwined than you have ever been, and you can see with perfect clarity that his eyes burn with deep, profound emotion as well as increasingly unbridled yearning. Pinioned there by his full weight and bulk, you are completely helpless to his whims, and nothing has ever felt so freeing in your entire life. Finally, finally, finally, you exalt in your mind, and you sigh his name, unable to suppress a slight moan, which only seems to afflict him further.

“Oh, Sherlock…”

“I am a gentleman of unimpeachable conduct, but you would turn me into a brute. The more time I spend in your presence, the closer the day draws near when you will be mine, the more I find my resolve tested,” he despairs, drawing in a deep breath, and shuddering as the scent of your hair, your skin, permeates his senses. “Look at us, look what you have done! All this time I have resisted, but you undo it in a mere minute…”

His lips are practically touching yours, his grip on your wrist grown tighter, the press of his unmistakable hardness against you firm and unyielding.

“This,” he explains, his voice gone ragged and low. “Is your only warning, my dear sweet bride. If you speak another word of wanting before I may lawfully, licitly show you every way a man may possess his wife, if you touch me—or, or, you perfect minx, my gorgeous tormentor, if you with all your whiles force my hand…if you insist I kiss your glove in public, or ask for my arm to cross the street…I will make you pay for it the minute we are wed. I will turn you over my knee and spank your backside bruised. I will have you in every room of the house; damn who might see us. I will hunt you down across the estate and take you in the fields or the forest like an animal, for so you make me, darling. I will bind your hands to my bed and make you come for me over and over again until you have not a single thought left in this brilliant little mind, and then I will fuck your pretty weeping cunt until I’m sated and you are dripping with my seed. And that for a start.”

Sherlock, eyes glittering with his barely leashed lust, presses a light, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Are we understood, Miss —?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasp, and, with the final indulgence of skimming the pad of his thumb across your trembling bottom lip, he very gently, courteously releases you, and then promptly flees to the opposite side of the room to pour himself a substantial drink. He downs it in one gulp, then takes several very deep breaths, and though he keeps his back to you, you can tell, with a secret thrill down your spine, that he is adjusting his clothes in a futile attempt to disguise his arousal.

“You were best return to the drawing room at once,” he instructs, almost bashful at his body’s insistence against his mind’s prudence. It is incredibly endearing. “I must compose myself.”

“Of course. Forgive me, sir, that I have discomposed you so.”

“No, no, it is I who must apologize. Can you forgive me, dearest girl, that I have not made clear to you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? I was never a man of sentiment until now, and feared that to linger too long on the object of my desire, might make me lose all control. But I will tell you every day, ten times a day—from now until the end of my life, that your loveliness of body and soul is to me as vital as the air I breathe.”

“Are you becoming a poet, Sherlock?” you tease, melting all the more at his rush of tenderness, so looked for and longed for.

“Only for you,” he sighs, and you almost faint away as his hand drops to palm the outline of his cock through his trousers. Realizing the nature of his reflexive gesture, he gives  a frustrated groan and points at you accusingly.  “Only a romantic fool, and only a devious, seducing scoundrel, because of you.”

You laugh together, and, sneaking one last fervent look over your shoulder as he sinks into his chair and begins to unfasten his trousers, you close the door behind you depart, practically skipping through the halls of the home that will soon be yours, too, to rejoin both sides of the family in the parlor.

About ten minutes later, Sherlock rejoins the party, too, and no one seems to suspect anything untoward, clearly a relief to you both as your eyes meet across the table with a shared, secret glow. Once all parting pleasantries are exchanged, Sherlock follows you and your family out to the carriage, keeping a painfully respectful distance all the while. He offers only a formal bow and a stern, “Good evening” by means of farewell, but you have other designs.

“Good evening to you, too, Mr. Holmes,” you reply with a cheerful smile, and then, in front of the whole company, you elegantly present your hand to your fiancé to be kissed…

 I am so, so honored by all your kind replies and reblogs! Thanks to those who commented on my other prompt fic, Pulse Point:

@fluffycutecevans @madeanaccounttoreadfanfics @nana1000night @writing-for-marvel @raccoon-eyed-rebel @sarcastic-coffeedrinker-reads @holmesbunny @peachyvulpixie @sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @inlovewithhisblueeyes @kingjuli3n 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

[thefrogdalorian]

Hello and welcome to my masterlist!

You can find most of my fics on my AO3, if you prefer to read over there, and I reblog all new fics on @thefrogdalorianfics if you want to be notified here on tumblr when I post something new!

Ongoing Works:

Modern AU!Din x F!Reader: The Best of Both Worlds

Newest Work:

The Bake Sale: When Grogu brings news of an upcoming Bake Sale hosted by the little school he attends between missions with the New Republic on Nevarro, his father enthusiastically throws himself into baking the the sweetest treats to impress his classmates. Even though Din's devotion to the task makes you feel like there is a third person in your marriage, you are charmed by his determination. While the fruits of his labour are delicious, but you discover that Din Djarin's love is the sweetest treat of them all...

Requests:

Currently open, here. No guarantees but if you have anything you'd like to see, feel free to let me know!

I write: Din x Reader, Din x Bo-Katan (but as long as it's Mando related I'm open to giving it a shot!)

I don't write: smut (on request) some ships (ask if unsure!)

Note:

Most of my fics are for general audiences and GN!Reader

I tag my fics thoroughly, please look at the specific warnings for each fic before you read!

I do not own any of these characters (I wish I did). However, this writing is my work and I do not give permission for any part of it to be reposted without prior consent from me.

All headers/dividers are created by me, I do not give permission for them to be reused.

The Best of Both Worlds [ongoing]

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature ✯ 84k+ ✯

Modern!AU Din x Female Reader: To maintain his privacy and his son Grogu's well-being, Din Djarin agreed to the role of The Mandalorian on one condition: complete anonymity. He has never engaged with fans of the hit Star Wars show... until the day he visits a convention and crosses paths with you...

General:

Dincember 2023

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 54k ✯

Summary: Snapshots from your first chance-meeting with Din Djarin on your homeworld, to the life you are building together with Grogu in his cabin on Nevarro and ultimately your preparations to celebrate Life Day together for the first time, including a trip to a snowy mountain paradise.

Downpour

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1k ✯

Summary: Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.

My Pain Fits In The Palm Of Your Freezing Hand

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.2k ✯

Summary: When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

The Bake Sale

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 3.8k✯

Summary: When Grogu brings news of an upcoming Bake Sale hosted by the little school he attends between missions with the New Republic on Nevarro, his father enthusiastically throws himself into baking the the sweetest treats to impress his classmates. Even though Din's devotion to the task makes you feel like there is a third person in your marriage, you are charmed by his determination. While the fruits of his labour are delicious, but you discover that Din Djarin's love is the sweetest treat of them all...

Hold You in My Arms

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2k✯

Summary: Even with its outdated interior and the limitations that entails, The Razor Crest is your home. You find there is a certain charm about the old ship even if the bunk is a little uncomfortable. Though, it's even better when there is a Mandalorian to cuddle, armour and all.

Rest

✯ General ✯ 3.1k ✯

Summary: Despite how often you have pleaded with Din to stop and rest, your calls have gone unheeded. Your stubborn Mandalorian will not stop and take care of himself. So, when he arrives back from his latest job with the New Republic utterly exhausted, you take matters into your own hands and ensure he gets the rest he so desperately needs.

Sanctuary

✯ General ✯ 1.2k ✯

Summary: It's one of those days when your emotions threaten to overwhelm you. Despite the horrible day you're having, you try your best to keep it together. A feat you manage, until a certain Mandalorian arrives home and takes you into his arms.

Hold Me Close

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 3.4k ✯

Summary:  In the aftermath of Grogu's departure to be with his own kind, your riduur is nowhere to be found, with little indication - other than a message disk - as to his whereabouts. You anxiously await his return. Yet the man who eventually comes back to you is a broken, shadow of the man you fell in love with.

Always

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.5k ✯

Summary: You wake up from an incredibly distressing nightmare in which Din and Grogu had suddenly vanished from your life without a trace. Fortunately, Din is there to console you with his comforting embrace and soothing words. He leaves you feeling optimistic about the future, rather than dreading what lies ahead for the pair of you.

Such a Heavenly View

✯ General ✯ 2.3k ✯

Summary: For the past few months you've been babysitting the child of a mysterious Mandalorian who lives on Nevarro. One day, to your surprise, he wants to spend the day with you and hike to the top of a volcano. After an unfortunate mishap on the way, you discover that the man beneath the armour is surprisingly gentle and sentimental...

All The Nice Things In Life

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.5k ✯

Summary: During a weekly trip to your favourite Market on Nevarro, you get a little overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. Fortunately, you have an exceptionally caring and attentive Mandalorian for a partner, who manages to calm you down and make you see that you are not a burden to him, despite your worries.

Even Your Worst Days

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 4.3k ✯

Summary: After returning from a recent job with the New Republic, Din finds you feeling overwhelmed and burnt out due to his absence. Din had not realised how much you were struggling and when he realises how upset you are he moves to reassure you, lifting your spirit and boosting your confidence in the way that only he is capable of. You realise that Din loves you unconditionally... even on your worst days.

From Now Until The End

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 5.4k ✯

Summary: After being away from you as part of his job with the New Republic, your partner Din surprises you with a trip to the Boonta Eve Classic on Tatooine to make up for it. But instead of the fun-filled day he had planned, you are overwhelmed by the many sights, sounds and noises. It leads you to finally share a part of yourself with Din that you had been hiding from him until now.

Teen:

Candles

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3.8k ✯

Summary: Even though Din insists he doesn't want you to make a fuss over his birthday, you cannot resist spoiling him in your own special way. Although your perfect day does not go entirely to plan, you are determined to make the best of it...

Nowhere Else To Run

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3.4k ✯

Summary: Despite the fact that sharing a cabin with you and Grogu on Nevarro has given him the peaceful life he was searching for, Din cannot escape the nightmares of his past which haunt him most nights. Although he feels unworthy of your love, the only time things make sense is when you take him in your arms and dutifully put his pieces back together. Even on nights when he feels he does not deserve it.

Ner Aliit

✯ Read on AO3✯ Teen ✯ 5k✯

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian. Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.

A Crisis of Faith

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 6k ✯

Summary: Although travelling through the galaxy with a Mandalorian bounty hunter was a daunting prospect at first, you were pleasantly surprised by how swiftly the two of you bonded. However, despite your initial closeness, the man who you were thought enjoyed your presence in his life now seems disgusted by his every encounter with you. When you finally land on Nevarro after weeks of being confined to the Razor Crest together, you hope that perhaps, something might fix your fractured relationship...

A New Dawn

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 5.1k ✯

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy with a mysterious nameless and faceless Mandalorian with a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the parsec would probably terrify most people. Instead, over the months you have known Mando, you have discovered his gentler, more affectionate side. Living in such proximity to the man you have an enormous crush on threatens to suffocate you as you determine that he must never find out. But after a job seemingly goes badly wrong on a forest planet, the fear of losing him will perhaps finally be the tipping point for a new dawn in your relationship...

Pieces

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 3k ✯

Summary: Your worst fears are almost realised when Din returns from his latest job with the New Republic injured and distressed. Despite your emotions, you diligently tend to his wounds and put his pieces back together.

Mature:

Across The Stars

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature 18+ ✯ 5.8k ✯

Summary:  Your riduur, Din Djarin, whisks you away to Naboo to enjoy the Festival of Love celebrations on the bountiful planet. While there, you reflect on just how much the formidable man, who chose you to be his, truly means to you.

Explicit:

The Arrangement

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ 18+ MDNI ✯ 7.1k ✯

Summary: You entered into an arrangement with Mando find some physical relief from the monotony of hyperspace as you travel through the galaxy together as a formidable team of bounty hunters. When you did so, there were three clear rules: that it would not impact your professional relationship, that there were no strings attached and most importantly of all: that Mando would never, ever remove his helmet. When you carelessly let your emotions get the better of you and undermine those rules, you fear you have lost the man who means everything to you and discover that you miss much more than merely the physical encounters…

Din Djarin Headcanons/Imagines

Din Djarin + Falling In Love

Flowers for My Mandalorian (Valentine's Day imagines)

Booping Din Djarin

Only The Father You'll Be

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.7k ✯

Summary: As he sits on the porch of his new cabin, looking on proudly as Grogu entertains himself with frogs outside their new home on Nevarro, the moment awakens old memories in Din Djarin. He reflects back to a moment when he watched The Child playing with other children in the idyllic village on Sorgan. Back then, Din wanted something very different for him and The Child… it was an occasion when their fates could so easily have diverged from their destiny. But now Din has the one thing that had always eluded him, that he never imagined for himself: a family.

Welcome Home, Son

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 4.1k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin finds himself back on a mysterious planet that is strangely familiar to him, despite the years that have passed since he last stepped foot on it. A visit to the cabin he once shared with his family brings Din face-to-face with someone he never imagined he would again encounter for the rest of his days. Content Warnings: Grief, PTSD, survivor's guilt, grieving for parents.

Soon, I Will Be Back With You

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 1.2k ✯

Summary: Centuries after the last time he saw his buir, Grogu reflects on memories of the life they shared together until it ended in devastating circumstances. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

You Are Eternal

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 1.4k ✯

Summary: When devastating news that High Magistrate Karga has become one with the Force reaches Din in his cabin on Nevarro, he reflects on the complicated nature of their relationship. Din pays his own tribute to the man who witnessed firsthand his shift from bounty hunter to father. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.

Some of these fics are explicit so no minors, please.

Carry Your Throne

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Explicit ✯ 182k ✯

Summary: Set one year post-Mando season 3. Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze is struggling to contend with the pressure of living up to the Kryze name and her dark past, while also bearing the responsibility of leading her planet and overseeing its continued stability. Plagued with feelings of guilt and unworthiness - and a suspicion that not everyone supports her claim to the throne - she is haunted by nightmares as she relives her past mistakes. Those around her are concerned for her wellbeing, including Bo-Katan's loyal friend and advisor, Koska Reeves. News of Din Djarin and Grogu's return to Mandalore sets off a chain of events that will change both the course of Bo-Katan's reign and possibly her life, too.

With Every Atom of His Being

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 1.6k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin's increasing closeness to Bo-Katan Kryze causes an accidental slip of his tongue during a picnic the two share with Grogu during one of Bo-Katan's visits to Nevarro. Din's choice of language has profound consequences, not just for the two of them but also the child they love so much.

Written In The Stars

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature✯ 11k ✯

Summary: Din Djarin hoped that by pledging to serve Bo-Katan Kryze until her song was written, he had clued her into the depths of his feelings for her. As the months pass after Din left to train his new apprentice with still no word from the Mand'alor, he begins to accept that his feelings are unrequited. Din wishes he could stop dwelling on his feelings, but at night visions of red hair and shimmering green eyes haunt him. His aversion to returning to Mandalore continues until one day, his son takes matters into his own tiny hands and forces Din to confront his fears...

To Being Together Again

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Mature✯ 10k ✯

Summary: When Din Djarin returns to his cabin on Nevarro after some time away he finds something he would never have expected, that will change his life forever. It seems that the woman he pledged to serve until her song was written has finally acknowledged her feelings and found her way back home to him. He can't even be too angry that it cost him a bottle of expensive wine. Or: Peli Motto and Bo-Katan Kryze get wine drunk and overshare... fluff and smut ensues.

The Worm Conundrum

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General✯ 2k ✯

Summary: When Mand'alor Bo-Katan Kryze hears about a recent conversation Koska Reeves had with her new girlfriend one night, instead of finding its premise cringeworthy, she instead finds that the ridiculous question will not leave her mind no matter how hard she tries. There is just one thought, turning in her mind, over and over...: Would Din Djarin still love her if she was a worm?

Red Hair, White Cake and Nite Owl Blue

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General✯ 27k ✯

Summary: After retaking Mandalore, Din Djarin abruptly leaves the Mandalorian homeworld with his new apprentice and throws himself into his work with the New Republic in order to avoid dwelling on the nature of his relationship to Bo-Katan Kryze. But a job several months after Mandalore was retaken changes everything for him. When Din is sent to Plazir-15 to track down an old troublemaker, his return to the planet brings back fond memories of time spent with Bo-Katan and causes Din to reflect on his lingering feelings for the woman who he once shared such a special bond with. But before he has a chance to act, a surprise feast thrown in honour of Bo-Katan's recently-announced engagement destroys not only Din's heart but an extravagant white cake too. Has Din left it too late to claim the heart of the red-haired woman he loves? Or will the Mandalorian foundling and the Nite Owl finally find their way to each other?

A New Year on Mandalore

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 2.2k ✯

Summary: It's almost the start of a new year on Mandalore and Bo-Katan Kryze is feeling the absence of a certain Mandalorian, despite the elaborate celebrations that have been planned. The Mand'alor is feeling lonely... until Koska Reeves brings news that a familiar starship has landed at the spaceport.

Dinbo Week 2024

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ Teen ✯ 14k ✯

At The Water's Edge ✯ Teen ✯ 4k ✯

Take My Whole Life, Too ✯ Teen ✯ 2.7k ✯

A More Noble Calling ✯ Teen ✯ 2.4k✯

A Sense Of Belonging ✯ Teen ✯ 3k ✯

The Meiloorun Fiasco ✯ General ✯ 2.5k ✯

Dinbo Drabbles

✯ Read on AO3 ✯ General ✯ 0.4k ✯

Summary: Series of drabbles based on specfic episodes from Season three.

Hello again!

Thanks so much if you made it this far, happy reading! I really hope you find enjoyment somewhere in something I've written.

I would love to know if you did, you can always come and chat to me about anything I've written, I would love to know your thoughts!

[daenystheedreamer]

Valyrian Pantheon Headcanons

We know the names of 5 of the Valyrian gods and that's it. We don't know anything about the practices or even what those gods were patrons of. Here is my headcanon reconstruction of the pantheon ^_^

I think the Fourteen Flames (the volcanoes) are named for fourteen gods who constitute the main pantheon, similar to the 12 Greek Olympians or the 12 Roman Dei Consentes. There are many minor gods, usually personifications of concepts like seasons/emotions.

I imagine them like Egyptian gods, who are personified sometimes as humans, sometimes as animals, sometimes as animal-headed humanoids. I imagine the main fourteen as dragons, though idk how silly that would look lol.

I think they were also androgynous gods. Why? That's fun. That's so fun. Dragons are theorised to be hermaphroditic/intersex who can change their sex at will, but also are referred to as she-dragons if they are confirmed to lay clutches of eggs. So some of these gods are gods, and some are goddesses, despite being a-gender

Canonical Gods

BALERION: I believe Balerion's name is at least a little inspired by Ba'al, an ancient Semitic god who was very important to the religions of the region (Canaan, Babylon, etc) and features as a false god in the Hebrew bible. I think he's the King of the gods, like Zeus. God of war or fire or conquest or all of the above. Many ancient gods shifted their patronage and powers.

VHAGAR: Consort of Balerion, similar to Hera. Goddess of war/wisdom, similar to Athena. I think this fits a person like Visenya.

MERAXES: Perhaps a concubine of Balerion? Like how Zeus had thousands of lovers. Metis, Leto, Demeter, etcetera. Goddess of love, because Rhaenys seems like a woman who enjoyed love and life. Perhaps also a goddess of marriage?

SYRAX: It's gotta be someone Rhaenyra would think is cool. Perhaps a goddess of the sun/moon? Another war goddess? A queen? Actually, perhaps Syrax is the Hera of the pantheon, while Vhagar is not necessarily virginal like Athena but 'unmarried' so to speak. Goddess of beauty/wealth would also fit Rhaenyra. Goddess of the sun or moon would be fun in opposition to Sunfyre.

BOASH: called 'The Blind God' Mentioned as the god the Lorathi worship, whose religious followers (dissidents of the Valyrian Freehold) founded the city of Lorath. The name doesn't follow the typical Valyrian naming traditions, perhaps he was originally Boax/Boaxes? Would be fun. He's a very esoteric god connected to 'higher truths', the priests are eunuchs and the followers are vegetarian teetotalers and a main tenant is that everyone is equal. They also wear hair shirts which is an old Christian practice. I think he's a version of a Valyrian death god

the BLACK GOAT: Whose followers founded Qohor. I think he's a minor god, perhaps of magic or agriculture even, agricultural deities tend to be very important to common folk. However the goat imagery evokes Satan and Baphomet, so I think a villainous or death deity would be fun.

Non-canonical gods

A lot of the Targ dragons are given names with similar naming style to the canonical god dragons.

VERMITHOR & VERMAX: The naming conventions of Vermax and Vermithor intrigue me... I think one is the name of the God and one is a theophoric name in reference to the god. Perhaps a god of justice, law, order, etc, since they were the dragons of Jaehaerys and Jacaerys and I can see them picking that kind of God.

ARRAX: Lucerys names his dragon this, so I think a coming-of-age god or god of youths would be fun since he, yknow, got eated at 14.

CARAXES: This is Daemon's dragon so I'm saying Caraxes is the Dionysus/Hermes trickster god. Daemon picking the bacchanalian drunk sex god for his dragon is real to me.

MELEYS: Rhaenys TQWNW's dragon. Rhaenys gives off SUCH demeter vibes idk so agricultural god would be fun but idk i don't think she'd pick something like that. Perhaps its based off of Meraxes since Rhaenys is her namesake. Perhaps an oceanic or weather-based god.

MORGHUL: Morghul is simply the word for death in High Valyrian e.g. 'Valar Morghulis', but I like it as a euphemistic name for a God of death. Like his name is so tabboo that you just refer to him as death, or he's just named death in relation to afterlife, like how Hades refers to both the god and the underworld. I think perhaps Boash and the Black Goat are actually interpretations/aspects of the same deity, perhaps a death - morghul - god.

SHRYKOS: Sick name sorry just had to say that. He's Jaehaerys (son of Helaegon)'s dragon. got no clue what he could be a god of cos jaehaerys is a plot device character. I think he's just a cool Valyrian word, like Morghul, since Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are twins. Be fun if they picked life/death dichotomy for their dragons :p

TERRAX: ridden by the pre-doom character Jaenara Belaerys, who flew further south in Sothoryos than anyone else. God(dess) of travel/wisdom/conquest/oceans would be fun since she's a traveller who flew across oceans and sort of exemplifies the Valyrian conquest/adventurer spirit.

TESSARION: Okay the blue queen has to be a goddess of the ocean or the sky<3

TYRAXES: Joffrey's dragon :) I think a god of animals would be cute also cos he sounds like T-rex. I would name my dragon T-rex. Possibly a bastardisation of Terrax though...

URRAX: This is the name of a legendary/fairytale dragon from the story of Serwyn and Daeryssa from the Age of Heroes. By Daeryssa's naming convention and the fact she is mentioned only in AGOT, I think she was perhaps supposed to be a Targaryen before GRRM had established a full history. I think he's just a bastardisation of perhaps a Valyrian god like Arrax.

So my vision of the Valyrian pantheon includes Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Syrax, Vermithor, Arrax, Caraxes, Terrax, Tessarion, which is 9 gods

plus Meleys and Tyraxes who I'm not sure if I want to be referring to above gods or just the name of a god entirely, which makes 11

Adding a death god (Boash, Black Goat, Moghul) makes 12,

which leaves another two unnamed for my personal idea of a Valyrian pantheon :)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Now I’m Covered In You [Chapter 2: Dusk]

Series summary: Aemond is a prince of England. You are married to his brother. The Wars of the Roses are about to begin, and you have failed to fulfill your one crucial responsibility: to give the Greens a line of legitimate heirs. Will you survive the demands of your family back in Navarre, the schemes of the Duke of Hightower, the scandals of your dissolute husband, the growing animosity of Daemon Targaryen…and your own realization of a forbidden love?

Series title is a lyric from: Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), dubious consent, miscarriage, pregnancy, childbirth, violence, warfare, murder, alcoholism, sexism, infidelity, illness, death, only vaguely historically accurate, lots of horses!

Word count: 4.0k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @ipostwhatifeel​ @teenagecriminalmastermind​ @quartzs-posts​ @tclegane​ @poohxlove​ @narwhal-swimmingintheocean​ @chainsawsangel​ @itsabby15​ @serrhaewin​ @padfooteyes​ @arcielee​ @travelingmypassion​ @what-is-originality​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @blackdreamspeaks​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @jvpit3rs​ @sarcastic-halfling-princess​ @flowerpotmage​ @ladylannisterxo​ @thelittleswanao3​ @elsolario​ @tinykryptonitewerewolf​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @minttea07​​

Let me know if you’d like to be added! 💜

The girl is from Milan, and Daeron is enamored with her: bright-eyed, beaming, blood rosy in his cheeks. Her name is Nicolosa, though she is adamant that everyone should call her Nico. She is one of those effortlessly informal people. She laughs too loudly and says all the wrong things, too-honest observations that would be offensive if the person breathing life into them was anyone but her. She spins around the hall as violins and lutes play, swinging from the willing arms of chuckling noblemen, an aisle of light in a goldenrod gown, the sun made flesh. She has the luxury of dancing until breathless, until she glows with the sheen of exertion. She could not possibly be carrying a child; she will not be wedded and bedded for another year.

This is a great triumph for Otto the Duke of Hightower. Milan under the House of Sforza is an enviable ally, wealthy and sophisticated, and eager for friends who will one day be willing to assist them in resisting French encroachment. This is the deal that the Duke of Hightower has struck. True, Daeron is still rather young to take a bride. True, Nico’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Milan, were insistent that they would concede to the match only if the marriage and consummation was postponed until next August. True, this does not resolve the immediate concern of Aegon’s lack of an heir. But it is another tile of a mosaic, another thread in the patchwork of the Greens’ objectives, another brick in a castle wall from which boiling oil could be poured down upon invaders.

The Duke of Hightower is accepting warm congratulations from the nobility of Southern England: Norfolk, Gloucester, Somerset, Buckingham, Suffolk, Clarence, Exeter. Those of the North—Lancaster, York, Stark—shun him. They stand instead with Rhaenyra, admiring her two eldest sons, pretending not to notice how little they resemble the late Laenor Velaryon. The Crown Princess is wearing black accented with maroon, as she almost always is. She sends a small, reassurance-seeking smile to where Daemon sits at the high table, and he raises his cup to her, his face sly, arrogant, proud. They love each other, this is clear; it may not be an especially conventional love, and it may be a love that emboldens rather than tames, but it is love nonetheless. This does not make your resignation to your own fate any easier. Queen Alicent, laughing as she joins Daeron and Nico dancing, is dressed in dark green to match her father and her children. You often wear purple, the color of royalty…just to remind people that you still deserve to be here.

You are at the high table too, albeit on the opposite side from Daemon; the Blacks are always seated to King Viserys’ right, while the Greens are on his left. Aemond doesn’t dance, you aren’t permitted to, Aegon is too drunk. He’s apparently not too drunk to leer, however; his bleary storm-blue eyes follow Lady Joanna Montford as she glides across the floor like a shark through surf, flashing luring eyes and flirtatious simpers. You’re a better dancer than she is, but of course that doesn’t matter, because no one ever gets to see you do it. Aegon won’t go so far as to touch her in public—he would consider that discourteous, you think—but he’s sleeping with her, and everyone knows he’s sleeping with her, and you can’t even truly wish he’d stop because you don’t want him in your bed anyway. But the humiliation of it…the hopelessness…that is more difficult to come to terms with.

“Portugal,” Daemon tells Aegon nonchalantly. “You could have married some princess from Portugal.”

Aegon guzzles his wine and says nothing. Aemond—scribbling messy lines of black ink onto parchment at the end of the table—glances up at you and then back down again.

Daemon continues: “The Infanta Maria was wed around the same time you were, and she’s produced a more than satisfactory son for her husband. Hugely fat, practically hoglike, I’ve seen portraits.”

“Daemon, please,” King Viserys scolds mildly, smiling as he watches Rhaenyra mingle with nobles who wouldn’t mind burning you alive if it meant the Blacks would ascend more seamlessly to the throne. The king has her son Joffrey in the chair next to him and has enthralled the boy with stories of jousts, hunts, feasts, Christmases and May Days. You wonder if he’s ever shown such interest in any of his children with Alicent. If he has, you aren’t aware of it.

“Or Savoy,” Daemon says. “Not as cultured as Milan, this cannot be denied, but of great strategic significance geographically. One foot in France, the other in Italy. I’ve heard wonderful things about Princess Louise. Very athletic, very…” He smirks, biting into a pomegranate. Ruptured seeds spurt juice like the gleam of rubies. “Flexible.”

“Oh, look, Prince Daemon.” You point into the crowded hall. “I think your wife is beckoning you to join her. Your third wife, I mean, the most recent one. The one who also happens to be your niece.”

“Or Naples!” Daemon exclaims, as if it has just occurred to him, as if he hasn’t been waiting to torment you like a wolf shadows a wounded stag, saliva filling up its mouth, fangs bared and dripping. Southerners detest Daemon because they fear he is mad; but that’s exactly what the North likes about him. “Or perhaps even—would we dare to hope?—a princess of France! Think of it! The poor Duke of Hightower would not know what to do with himself, he would be so delighted. At his age, the shock might just kill him.”

“Daemon,” King Viserys warns again.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be giving us so many ideas,” Aegon says, slurping his wine. “Aemond is still unspoken for, and now we have a tidy list of candidates to consider. How thoughtful of you.”

“Or you simply could have made the same arrangement that you did but in reverse,” Daemon goes on as if no one else has spoken at all. “You could have taken a Castilian bride, and Helaena could have been shipped off to the Pyrenees, and your circumstances would be wildly different than they are now. Princess Lucia would have been the right age for you. Do you want to know what she gave to her new husband this past Christmas?”

“I surely don’t,” Aegon replies.

Daemon grins beneath glinting eyes. “Twins.”

“Enough,” Aemond says, dark and quiet like midnight.

Now Daemon addresses you, resting his elbows on the table. “How many more chances do you think they’ll give you, Navarre, before some providential technicality that voids your marriage contract is discovered and you are discarded of in a nunnery?” Another bite of the pomegranate; another freckling of bloodlike red across the tablecloth. “The globe is crawling with royal women, they’re fish in a barrel, why would anyone jeopardize their dynastic ambitions for you?”

“My wife belongs where I am,” Aegon says: a fact, a dare. “And I will hear no more of it.”

You look at him, grateful but a little stunned. He does this sometimes. He will choose a seemingly arbitrary moment to make a show of loyalty, and then he will never mention it again. He doesn’t return your glance. Instead, he picks apart a roasted chicken carcass with his fingers and resumes staring at Lady Joanna Montford with his dazed, watery eyes. Aemond, engrossed in his writing, hasn’t eaten much tonight. Neither have you; but there’s a reason for that.

“Where you are,” Daemon muses, raising his strange white eyebrows. “Well, I hope she enjoys brothels.”

You fling back: “Like the one you fondled the Crown Princess in?”

“A baseless rumor,” Daemon replies, but he can’t smother the flare of wicked pride in his eyes.

“Will you stop it?!” the king roars at both of you. Joffrey gazes up at him with awe, like he’s seen a falling star or a dragon or the face of God. “This is supposed to be a joyous occasion, a royal betrothal, and you can’t conduct yourselves appropriately for one night—?!”

“What are they squabbling about?” the Duke of Hightower asks as he approaches the table. He can summon nothing more condemnatory than half-serious annoyance; his mood is too lofty, his victory too fresh. Behind him in the festive ruckus, Queen Alicent and Rhaenyra are exchanging awkward compliments and trying to ignore all the enmity that has stacked up between them since the king married his daughter’s lifelong companion and started producing white-haired children with her. Jace is dancing with Baela, Luke with Rhaena; Daeron and Nico have found themselves alone in a corner, giggling as candlelight glows hot and golden on their flushed cheeks.

Rather than answering, the king merely rolls his eyes and sighs, exasperated.

“You must be overjoyed, Otto,” Daemon says. “Another friend on the Continent. And yet, they are awfully far away, don’t you think?”

The Duke of Hightower smiles tightly. “Ships travel fast.”

“Ah, perhaps, though not faster than word from here to the Scottish border.”

“The Milanese girl will make a lovely bride for young Daeron, Otto,” King Viserys praises. He has either successfully deluded himself into believing that the whole of the realm will miraculously coalesce behind Rhaenyra upon his death, or he is determined to ignore the catastrophe that will ensue once he slips, gleefully ignorant, off into the afterlife.

Daemon nods. “Yes. Buxom, vivacious, amiable, she will be a fine mother someday. Unlike certain other people among us.”

Aegon says around a mouthful of chicken: “Grandsire, Prince Daemon was kind enough to point out all the other advantageous matches still at our disposal. Since we haven’t monopolized our bloodline by marrying exclusively immediate relatives.”

The Duke of Hightower chuckles. “Yes, I do sincerely hope that Jace and Luke’s offspring don’t all end up with fifteen fingers or gills or some such thing.”

“Fortunately, Harwin Strong’s blood should dilute the lineage,” you say.

Daemon turns towards you, twisting in his chair, grinning cruelly. “Gills or not, at least they’ll have children.”

You can’t think of anything to say back. Perhaps there is nothing to say. The Duke of Hightower and Aegon both avert their eyes. King Viserys has returned his attention to young Joffrey and is teaching him a prayer to invoke the protection of Saint George. Only Daemon looks at you; and Aemond watches him, quill hovering in midair, his sole blue eye a blaze of cold fire. You push out your chair and rise from the table, fleeing to one of the rooms adjacent to the exuberant, cheerful hall. You’re happy for Daeron and Nico, truly you are. But pain has a way of feeling heavier than joy, doesn’t it? It grips onto your ankles and drags you down into depths that nobody else can see.

The room is small and empty, the music muffled by the walls. Through the stained glass windows trickle in beams of pink-lavender light as dusk falls over Westminster Palace. And you stand there alone in the twilight, thinking of the past and the future and time itself, a ghost that will always be made of more secrets than answers.

You hear the door open behind you. “I’ll return to the festivities in a moment,” you say to the intruder, trying to keep the emotion from your voice.

“No need,” Aemond replies softly.

You wheel, and there he is, walking to meet you in the vanishing daylight. He takes your left hand in his and settles his right lightly, modestly, on your waist. “What—?” And then you understand.

Dancing. Here, where no one can see to forbid or ridicule. He’s come to take me dancing.

You smile up at him. “I’m not supposed to be doing this.”

“We’ll go very slowly.”

And slowly would be an understatement: you and Aemond move together in dawdling, careful steps, rotating like seasons, like the phases of the moon. He smells like he always does, of work and effort: smoke, leather, that scent he wears that is dark and woodsy and with an edge like a knife. His hands are calloused from sword sparring. Yours feel soft and helpless in his; they weren’t always so fragile, but they are now. “I thought you hated me,” you tell him.

“I’ve never hated you.”

“But you ignored me. For an entire year after I arrived in England, you ignored me.”

“I kept my distance. That’s very different from ignoring.”

“Alright, but why keep your distance at all?”

Aemond hesitates. “I am not in the habit of allowing myself to be noticed.”

“Because you fear people will see through the armor you’re wearing?” And when he abruptly stops dancing, you add: “I don’t mean that unkindly. I’m the same way. I wear all sorts of masks.”

He studies you in the lilac light. His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips to your throat. And then he resumes the unhurried dance. “There’s nothing about you worth hiding.”

You spin away from him and then return to be caught. “And you think you are a trove of scandalous secrets, Prince Aemond? Is that what’s in all those poems you won’t let me read?”

“If they were any good, I’d let you read them.”

“But you have the disposition of a genuine poet. Enigmatic, perceptive…” Alluring. Beautiful. You cast those thoughts away like coins into a wishing well. “Graceful.”

“So the dancing isn’t too terrible. I don’t do it often, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t do it ever to my knowledge. And no, not terrible at all.”

“I move best when holding a sword, not a princess.”

“I used to have callouses like yours, you know,” you say. “My palms and fingers were covered in them.”

“Because you sparred with your brothers,” Aemond remembers.

“For hours and hours. Especially with Alonzo. He’s the exact opposite of you, short and stocky and loud, with dark curls and heavy feet. And his poetry would send a lady sprinting in the other direction.”

“Do you miss it? Terrorizing men with swords?”

“Of course. I was almost somewhat good at that, unlike everything I’m tasked with here.”

Aemond grins, broad and mischievous. “Let’s have a demonstration then.” He releases your hand, goes to the door that leads to a stairwell, and waits patiently for you to join him.

This is improper. This is disobedient. But what has being obedient gotten you lately?

You follow Aemond through the doorway, down the stone steps, and out into the courtyard illuminated by dusk like amber, tiger’s eye, amethyst, rose quartz. It is empty except for the two of you; the rest of the palace is thoroughly occupied with drinking, dancing, and murderous scheming. It is a wonder with as lethal as the world is that women are meant to be so powerless. Aemond trots across the grass towards the blacksmith’s forge at the far end of the courtyard, then returns with two swords. He passes you the lighter one.

“How does it feel?” he asks you.

You twirl the sword a few times, admittedly rather inexpertly. “Wonderful. But I’m very out of practice.”

“Fear not. We’ll take this slow as well.” He taps his blade against yours, so tenderly it’s laughable; the sound it makes is blunt and low. Still, you’re both smiling as you circle each other, striking out with intentionally ineffectual thrusts and lunges, blocking, parrying. “Your footwork is excellent,” Aemond notes.

“It used to be better. But I appreciate your compliment. You’re more talented than Alonzo. Then again, you probably spend much less time skipping lessons to chase women around.”

“Undoubtedly,” Aemond says in a tone you can’t decipher. Then he asks, interest piqued: “What sorts of masks do you wear?”

You shrug, your blade skating down the length of his. “All sorts.”

Aemond parries. “I’d be interested to know.”

“A genuine poet would be astute enough to sift out the truth from the lies.”

“So lie to me,” Aemond says, his stare direct and bold, his sword balanced in one hand and pointed at your ribs, your heart. “And we shall find out if I can tell.”

You side-step him, thinking of frivolous diversions. “I love English ale and drink it all the time.”

“Lie. Apple cider.”

The blades clang. “My favorite color is, dutifully, green.”

“Lie. Red, like the flag of Navarre.”

And like blood. “It’s beginning to lose its charm,” you confide in Aemond.

“Don’t do that,” he says severely. “Don’t let them take something you’re proud of away from you.”

You consider him as stars rise in a violet sky. “Why are you encouraging my rebellious inclinations? You don’t give the impression of being much of a rule breaker.”

“I don’t see what good can come from you being denied any source of happiness,” he says simply. “Go on. Let’s have another attempt at a lie.”

You block Aemond’s benign, cautious swing as you circle him. “I’m pregnant again.”

Aemond halts; every muscle in his body goes still and inflexible. And he knows immediately that you’re telling the truth. “I’m…I’m very glad to hear that,” he manages at last.

You laugh fleetingly, cynically. “You can’t even properly congratulate me. No one can. Because everything’s gone so horribly thus far, people don’t want to get their hopes up.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Not yet. But I can recognize the first signs by now.” Constant low-level nausea, difficulty waking in the morning, dull cramping. You force a thin smile. “At least your brother won’t need to visit my bed for a while.”

“You don’t find pleasure with him? Is Aegon not…” Aemond searches for the right word, nervous, bashful. Hot blooms of blood appear in his cheeks. “Attentive to you?”

“It’s not his fault. He tries, really. He’s never been selfish or rough. It is entirely my own deficiency. I’m just not…at ease with him, I suppose. I can’t relax enough. I can’t reach…well…” Euphoria? A climax? A peak? You know what euphemisms others use, but it’s difficult to describe something you’ve never experienced before.

Aemond nods, meaning that he understands, that you don’t have to wrench the words out of you like entrails from a slaughtered animal.

“I know that other women can,” you say, tapping your blade against his. “That their husbands are well-matched with them and that they enjoy great pleasure. It’s difficult for me to accept that isn’t something I’ll ever get to have myself. At least…I don’t believe I’ve ever had it.”

“I think you’d know if you had.”

“Oh, and you’re an expert in a woman’s pleasure, are you? As an unmarried prince?” Your voice is casual and teasing; but the thought of him with a lover is like a bolt of lightning. It pains you, it paralyzes you, it hits you without any warning.

“Years ago, Aegon paid for a woman to…initiate me,” he explains. “Several times. He meant it as an act of compassion, I think. I was speechless around anyone I found desirable.”

Your nausea swells from a ripple to a wave. “Oh. I see.”

“It’s not something that I especially wanted at the time, and it’s not something that I have cared to repeat since. But it was very…informative.”

He gives you an infinitesimal little half-smile, and something passes between you as the last threads of dusk are unwoven from the sky and night engulfs Westminster Palace, something like a promise, a note, a whisper. The queasiness in your belly vanishes and is replaced by something else: a sensation like falling, like wanting. You are overcome by an ache to say something, though you don’t know what.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the Duke of Hightower bellows, striding out into the courtyard. Aemond takes several swift steps away from you and hurls his sword to the ground. You toss yours away as well.

“Grandsire, the princess and I were just—”

“You!” the Duke of Hightower shouts, turning on you first. “You should be in a chair or in bed, you should be resting, you should be thinking only of your health and of the wellbeing of the heirs you will produce with Aegon, not gallivanting around in the darkness and playing with swords, of all things! What would your husband say? What would your parents say?! Are you what we were promised when we signed that godforsaken contract?! Surely, princess, at this very moment you are not.”

Aemond begins: “Grandsire, it wasn’t her idea—”

“And you,” the Duke of Hightower growls at him. “You will immediately rid yourself of your baffling aversion to marriage, because you’re next, Aemond. Be prepared to discuss the candidates tomorrow and decide upon your preferred bride. Your brothers and sister are spoken for. We have one last card to play, and it cannot wait any longer. Not with this enduring…” He glances bitterly at you. “Uncertainty.”

Since you arrived in England, there have been innumerable discussions of who Aemond will marry, and he has staunchly evaded every proposed match. His rationale has wavered from needing to focus on his studies to committing himself to training as a warrior to interrogating the strategic wisdom of each potential alliance. This is strange for a man who is otherwise so constrained by familial loyalty, so devoted to the advancement of the Greens. “I won’t even get to meet her first?”

“You’ll learn to like her. Daeron met his betrothed today and he is happy.”

“Daeron is lucky,” Aemond objects. “I might just as easily not be.”

“You will marry,” the Duke of Hightower insists. “Without protest and without further delay.”

Aemond looks down at his empty hands—lines and callouses, fresh scars and ancient heritage—and he says quietly: “Do you care nothing for love?”

“Have you ever wondered why the old put so little stock in love, Aemond?” the Duke replies. “It’s not because we don’t believe it’s real. It’s because we know it doesn’t last. Women die in childbirth. Men die at war. Thousands die of Plague or the bloody flux. People who once would have killed for you grow to hate you, or worse, feel nothing for you at all. Love is transient and painful and changeable and destructive. Best to skip over such things and think of legacy instead. That’s all any of us are left with in the end.”

And then the Duke of Hightower clasps your wrist and leads you back inside the palace, gently, as if you are made of glass.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is several hours later when Aegon staggers noisily into your bedchamber, knocking over a Florentine vase by the door. Shards of it tumble across the floorboards like wounded men littering a battlefield.

“Sorry,” he slurs, pulling off his tunic and then the plain white shirt underneath. “I’m very drunk, wife, I cannot deny it, but there’s only one part of me that you’re in need of and I think that I can still get it up—”

“Aegon.” You’re lying in bed and sipping a cup of apple cider. “You don’t need to stay. Your part is done.”

He stops cold and blinks at you, comprehending it sluggishly. His eyes flick down to your belly, covered by a blanket decorated with green roses. “Oh.”

“It’s alright. You can go now. You have other places to be, and I know that’s what you want.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? To make it easier?”

Be a different sort of man. Be more like Aemond. “No, I’m fine. But it’s very sweet of you to ask.”

“Okay.” He lurches away, stepping on pieces of the shattered vase. His bare feet leave stains of blood on the floor. And then he pauses under the doorframe, gripping it so he doesn’t fall over. “Wife?”

“Yes?”

“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you, you know,” he says. “It’s the pressure of it all. It’s the responsibility. I don’t have to feel that when I’m with anyone else.”

I don’t wish he was more like Aemond. I wish he WAS Aemond. “I understand, Aegon.”

He gives you a pitiful, off-kilter, childish smile. “Goodnight,” he says just before he leaves, clutching the doorframe with clawed hands. And then: “Goodnight to both of you.”

[haggishlyhagging]

"You have granted that woman may be hung," said Wendell Phillips to his fellowmen, and "therefore you must grant that woman may vote." It was as simple as that. Either women were the peers and equals of men, and in that case should enjoy all civil and political rights equally with them, or women were (as men repeatedly maintained) an inferior caste; and in that case, any woman tried by a jury of men was automatically deprived of the right to trial by a jury of her peers. Feminists argued that men simply could not have it both ways.

For the men the choice was no choice at all, for to concede either point was to lose ground and that would never do. The inconsistency of their position was rather embarrassing, but certainly not unbearably so considering what there was to lose to those implacable women so relentlessly consistent in their demands. The New York State Woman's Rights Committee laid out the agenda at the Tenth National Woman's Rights Convention in 1860: "We now demand the ballot, trial by jury of our peers, and an equal right to the joint earnings of the marriage copartnership. And, until the Constitution be so changed as to give us a voice in the government, we demand that man shall make all his laws on property, marriage, and divorce, to bear equally on man and woman." "A citizen can not be said to have a right to life," the feminists argued, "who may be deprived of it for the violation of laws to which she has never consented—who is denied the right of trial by a jury of her peers—who has no voice in the election of judges who are to decide her fate."

As things were, women could not get simple justice. "It is not to be denied," Elizabeth Cady Stanton argued to the New York legislature in 1854, "that the interests of man and woman in the present undeveloped state of the race, and under the existing social arrangements, are and must be antagonistic. The nobleman can not make just laws for the peasant; the slaveholder for the slave; neither can man make and execute just laws for woman, because in each case, the one in power fails to apply the immutable principles of right to any grade but his own." In the courts of law in particular, how could a woman receive just treatment from "men who, by their own admis-sion, are so coarse that women could not meet them even at the polls without contamination?" Feminists demanded "in criminal cases that most sacred of all rights, trial by jury of our own peers. The establishment of trial by jury is of so early a date," Cady Stanton explained with that reasonableness so maddening to her opponents, "that its beginning is lost in antiquity; but the right of trial by a jury of one's own peers is a great progressive step of advanced civilization... Hence, all along the pages of history, we find the king, the noble, the peasant, the cardinal, the priest, the layman, each in turn protesting against the authority of the tribunal before which they were summoned to appear. Charles the First refused to recognize the competency of the tribunal which condemned him: For how, said he, can subjects judge a king? The stern descendants of our Pilgrim Fathers refused to answer for their crimes before an English Parliament. For how, they said, can a king judge rebels? And shall woman here consent to be tried by her liege lord, who has dubbed himself law-maker, judge, juror, and sheriff too?—whose power, though sanctioned by Church and State, has no foundation in justice and equity, and is a bold assumption of our inalienable rights."

-Ann Jones, Women Who Kill

[unfortunatetheorist]

Is Klaus' legal logic of The Bad Beginning sensible?

* Joint Theory: @unfortunatetheorist with @snicketstrange *

Klaus's speech to the audience during the events of The Bad Beginning had a carefully thought-out structure, anchored in deeply rooted legal, but more so ethical, principles. In defence of his sister, who was forced into a marriage, Klaus appears to have adopted a multifaceted approach to challenge the marriage's validity.

Firstly, John Locke.

John Locke was one of the first people to suggest that humans have natural rights. He also wrote a book about this called the 'Two Treatises of Government'.

Klaus likely invoked John Locke's arguments on natural rights to contend that the marriage was not consensual and, therefore, violated his sister's fundamental rights to life and liberty. The idea that the bride must sign "with her own hand" is interpreted here not literally, but as an indicator of action "of her own free will," supported by Locke's principles.

Secondly, Thurgood Marshall.

Thurgood Marshall was the first black Supreme Court Justice of the USA, who fought for the rights of black citizens against Jim Crow's extremely racist ideologies.

His defence of the 14th Amendment may have been used by Klaus to argue that, in cases of ambiguity or doubt, the judge's decision should lean towards protecting the more vulnerable party. This point strengthens the point that, if there is doubt about the how valid Violet's consent is, the legal and ethical obligation is to invalidate the marriage. The 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution is crucial for establishing constitutional rights and consists of various clauses. The most relevant for Klaus's case is probably the Equal Protection Clause, which states that no state may "deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." Klaus may have leaned especially on this clause to argue that, in situations of uncertainty, i.e. his sister's forced marriage, the interpretation/application of the law should be done in a manner that protects (in this case) Violet. This would align with the principles of the 14th Amendment, using it for equal protection under the law to invalidate the marriage and protect his sister's rights.

Third, Ida B. Wells.

Ida B. Wells was, similar to Thurgood Marshall, an early civil rights campaigner, who campaigned for anti-lynching (a word which here means, opposing the brutally violent act known as lynching).

Klaus likely drew inspiration from Ida B. Wells to assert that everyone has the right to be heard and protected by authorities, regardless of their age or origin. This argument would serve to legitimize his own standing as his sister's defender in court, neutralizing any potential prejudice against him for being a child or, perhaps, belonging to a minority (he and his sisters are Jewish).

Moreover, the presence of a judge at the ceremony should not be viewed as merely a formality, but a control mechanism to ensure mutual consent, something that resonates strongly with Locke and Marshall's ideals about the role of government and law. Thus, if either of the spouses gave any evidence to the judge that the marriage was conducted under duress, the judge would be obligated to invalidate the marriage. Violet's chosen signal was to sign the document with her left hand instead of her right hand. As the judge explained, the marriage could be invalidated due to this discreet yet appropriate signal.

Lastly, the word "apocryphal" that Lemony uses to describe Klaus's argument suggests a non-conventional but insightful interpretation of the law, something that seems to echo Marshall's "doubtful insights" and Wells' "moral conviction." Instead of resorting to literalism ('literally' - with her own hand, i.e. Violet's dominant hand), Klaus's argument was much deeper and grounded, touching on the very essence of what legislation and the role of judges are. That's why Justice Strauss was so fascinated by the young boy's speech.

In summary, the historical references evidence that Klaus wove these diverse elements into a cohesive and compelling argument, utilising the legacy of these thinkers to question and, ideally, invalidate his sister Violet's forced marriage.

¬ Th3r3534rch1ngr4ph & @snicketstrange,

Unfortunate Theorists/Snicketologists

[empirearchives]

The Development of French Women’s Rights — according to Carla Hesse

Women’s status in relation to their husbands during the Revolutionary era:

“Legal reform, however, did not go so far as to render the civil status of married women equal to that of their husbands. This radical proposal, initiated by the legislator Jean-Jacques-Régis de Cambacérès, was definitively rejected by the Convention in 1793. So even at the revolutionary high water mark, the legal standing of married women still remained contingent to a certain extent on the will and consent of their husbands.”

Divorce and other rights in the New Regime:

“By abolishing in 1791 guild restrictions imposed by the former regime, revolutionary legislators opened all professions, including publishing and printing, to women, as long as their husbands (if they were married) consented. Prescriptive primogeniture was abolished and divorce legalized in September of 1792.”

***Divorce was legalized in September 1792, but abolished in 1816 during the Restoration after the fall of Napoleon.

Women’s status in relation to their husbands under the Old Regime:

“Under the Old Regime, in short, a married woman’s right to publish her work was contingent on her husband’s consent. She was not permitted to sign any contracts without her husband’s consent, she could not, on her own, make a legally binding arrangement with a publisher. And, if she did publish, the legal claim to her work belonged to him unless he explicitly authorized his wife to act on her own behalf.”

“Few women wrote and published under the Old Regime, and many of those who did were legally separated, unmarried, or widowed. Perhaps the two most widely read women writers of the eighteenth century, Mme de Gaffigny and Mme Riccoboni, for example, did not in fact begin their literary careers until after they were separated from their husbands.”

A conclusion from the author:

“They were denied the vote in 1789, prohibited from political mobilization during the Terror, denied civil equality within marriage.”

Source: Carla Hesse, The Other Enlightenment: How French Women Became Modern

[iconuk01]

[UK Home Secretary] James Cleverly has apologised for joking about spiking his wife’s drink with a date rape drug in comments made at a Downing Street reception.

The home secretary’s remarks came just hours after the Home Office announced plans to crack down on spiking, when someone puts drugs into another person’s drink or directly into their body without their knowledge or consent.

Cleverly told female guests at the reception that “a little bit of Rohypnol in her drink every night” was “not really illegal if it’s only a little bit”, the Sunday Mirror reported.

He also laughed that the secret to a long marriage was ensuring your spouse was “someone who is always mildly sedated so she can never realise there are better men out there”.

Conversations at Downing Street receptions are usually understood to be “off the record” but the Sunday Mirror decided to break that convention because of Cleverly’s position and the subject matter.

Words fail....

No surprise, only revulsion

[scenetocause]

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write

uhhhh probably lots. my biggest hard barrier is i won't write proper angst, definitely won't write death or injury. it's partly me being superstitious about the latter two (i am very aware how dangerous race cars are) and partly i just can't? i know it's cathartic for some people but i already suppress/nurse a lot of pain and i can't do what feels like, when i'm doing it, creating more. that's not what whump is and i 100% understand why people write it and read it but just built different (extremely traumatised)

i will sometimes write a/b/o but not within the conventional tropes, which i find pretty misogynist and weird and gender-enforcing and frankly a bit terfy. like if you want boys with a pussy you don't have to invent a whole werewolf bit lol.

i'd never write dubcon or non-consensual roughness/nastiness. explicit consent is very important to me and i'll actively nope out of fics that don't have it/have had to be the bad guy and be like 'yo can you tag this dubcon because i've just absolutely fucked my own head up reading it when i wasn't prepared' on stuff. i'll actually write quite toxic and unhealthy things (deep in the emptyhalf lore is this jev-fucks-his-way-out-of-suicidal-depression essay) but i have some really, really hard lines about consent and anything that verges towards abuse. i find a lot of the way possessiveness is portrayed very, very off-putting and without trying to be too judgemental... no, you know what, it's a fucked up kink. you shouldn't be trying to get your partner angry and if they are getting angry over nothing that's messed up. idk why this is supposed to be sexy or appealing, i understand people writing it as angst but not as a cute trope.

i surprised myself a little bit by writing girloscar and lando getting married bc i am quite rabidly anti-marriage for personal reasons (trauma lol) but apparently still think it's cute when other people do it.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

I couldn’t find the post I first saw sharing the minutes on coverture laws (it’s actually more dowery related it seems) but I managed to find the actual section! Along with Camille and Danton, I forgot Couthon also speaks on the proposal.

https://sul-philologic.stanford.edu/philologic/archparl/navigate/73/0/0/0/0/0/0/0/677/

(The proposal starts at the link but they start talking on page 674)

Thank you so much for sharing! Fun to know where these guys stood on the matter.

Thuriot — I believe that the husband alone should have right to the administration of property, and also be solely responsible for it. Very few women are going to be in a position to manage this administration. However, I would not like the right to be given explicitly by law to the husband; this law would cause discord between the spouses; and the property of women is sufficiently secured, by the mortgage of their dowry, and by the provision of the law which requires their consent for the sale of immoveables.

Lacroix — Citizens, I maintain on the contrary that the common administration must result from the community itself, and that in a free country one cannot keep women in slavery any longer. It is ridiculous that in the society of marriage a single member exclusively administers the family, and that a husband can squander at will the fortune he obtains from his wife

Merlin de Douai — If the Convention adopts the article presented to it by the committee, it would do an absurd and unjust thing, and would introduce perpetual disputes into families. I think that the woman is generally incapable of administering, and that the man has a superiority over her: nature must preserve it…

Danton — I ask that the committee above all tells us what it wants to say by its article.

Cambacérès — The committee means to say that the husband can not dispose of the property of the community without the consent of the wife.

Danton — Well, nothing is more natural.

Garnier — I ask that this proposal be enacted, and, if it has any disadvantages, that they are corrected by the law of divorce.

Camille Desmoulins — I agree. I do not want marital power, which is a creation of despotic governments, to be preserved any longer. In support of my opinion comes this political consideration: it is important to make women love the Revolution, and you will achieve this goal by making them get to enjoy their rights

Couthon — It suffices to have made a few reflections on the nature of man to be convinced that women is born with as much capacity as men; if until now that has been shown less, it is not the fault of nature, but that of our ancient institutions. I further observe that it is ridiculous to refuse the common administration of property to two spouses who can only sell it by common consent.

Thuriot — This law would be so contrary to principles, and so dangerous in its results, that foreigners would no longer wish, as long as it existed, to have commercial transactions with the French. This law would enslave and degrade the man by putting him under the guardianship of the woman. The administration of trust given to her by her husband honors her more than the right she would hold from this law. Moreover, it is important to deeply meditate upon this question. I therefore ask that it be adjourned for three days.

The adjournment is decreed.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Share some stalking heroes 👀

HAPPY TO.

Historical:

Obviously, Valentine Napier from Elizabeth Hoyt's Duke of Sin, He Who Lives in Walls.

Mick Trewlove does a bit of stalking when he's staking out how to steal Aslyn (in order to ruin his half-brother's life) in Beyond Scandal and Desire by Lorraine Heath.

Magnus literally hunts Melissa down like a dog in S.M. LaViolette's Melissa and The Vicar (after she leaves him).

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale has an EXTREMELY stalkery, villainous hero and I love the degree to which he's just a creep lol. Like, the heroine is all "... how does he know these things" and the answer is "baby girl, he's been watching you sleep probably". TW: the first encounter is noncon (forced marriage consummation). Kinsale is very true to 14th century approaches to consent, but Elena does very much take the reins in the rest of it.

In a different way, the preceding novel (set 10 years before) For My Lady's Heart is also a stalkery hero book. The hero is a knight whose wife left him to join a convent (lmao) and when he's dropping her off there he sees this beautiful (married) princess who notices that he's attracted to her and calls him out... but when he unexpectedly has to give up ALL his money in order to commit his wife to the order--a thing he doesn't want to do!--the princess does him a solid and gives him some cash to get on his feet. And as a result, he becomes obsessed with her, pledges himself to her, and serves from afar in her name for like. 13 years. Then they finally meet again and it turns out she's kind of a bitch! (In the best way.)

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway, of course, has Cull, who watches Pippa while she's out doing her vigilante shit and is like, ready to run interference and who knows maybe smell her hair.

Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt of course has the truly insane and stalkery Maximus. Like Valentine, he refuses to call his heroine by her actual name lmao.

The Wolf and The Widlflower by Stacy Reid. Wolf Duke Duke of Wolverton is obviously a duke who lived with wolves for years, and after he realizes that his new shrink, a young man, is actually a woman in disguise (a fact he realizes when he SMELLS. HER. WOMANLY. SCENT. IYKWIM.) he's determined to catch her out lol.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller has a hero who's admittedly a literal spy, but he does start lowkey stalking the heroine because he feels CRIME MAY BE AFOOT. And then he walks in on her... doing things alone.... and he goes "don't stop" and I lost my mind.

Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas gives me this vibe because McKenna is so focused on revenge against Aline that it basically turns into this obsession with everything about her and what it takes to break her down. Like, McKenna gives strong murder vibes and I do find it hot.

The Dragon and The Pearl by Jeannie Lin gives me this vibe because he's like... keeping her captive for political reasons but you can literally see on the page when it starts to shift from politics to obsession lol.

Contemporary-ish:

Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli. I mean, Enzo watches Gia through security cameras while keeping her in a cage after setting up a faked death by bombing a bar after he buys in an Aperol spritz. Peak stalking.

Mafia Target--the book after Mafia Madman, m/m assassin/target... Alessio is literally stalking Giulio for months before they actually meet and he's obsessed with him and it's AMAZING.

All of Kresley Cole's Gamemaker books involve stalking but The Player is maybe the most intensely stalkery book of all time. I can't even tell you how. That would give it away. Trust and believe. This is a STALKER.

Sierra Simone writes some very possessive heroes. Mark from her Lyonesse series, though (starting with Salt in the Wound) gives strong stalker vibes. Partly because he clearly knows way more about Tristan and Isolde than either of them realize and has known it for a while lol. Also, he literally skulks around ruining people's lives, so. That's just WHO HE IS. And I do love it.

Paranormal:

Just shouting out the fact that every single IAD hero is a stalker, but special notes for Lothaire of Lothaire (on EVERY LEVEL, follows Ellie around for years before the book even begins, turns invisible to follow her around in his apartment, watches her from the shadows, has to carry her lingerie around in his pocket so he can deeply inhale it to cope); Cade from Dark Desires after Dusk (followed Holly around for years before the book began... again lmao); Trehan from Shadow's Claim (the MISTS!!!!).

Dragon Bound by Thea Harrison has a heroine who steals a penny from a dragon shifter's lair, and he literally hunts her down like a dog lmao.

[510amy5]

Chapter 13

‘She doesn’t want me to kiss her, Caroline.’ Caroline sighed, slumping back into a pew, which — Leo squinted — was also a blue-upholstered seat inside a long metal carriage. ‘I don’t think she knows what she wants at this moment, but conventions of the medium mean that she’ll probably enjoy it. She just isn’t expecting to.’ ‘Not good enough.’

Leo recognizing Rosamund's discomfort during their wedding and being enough of a gentleman to not force a kiss? Swoon! I love how even though Caroline points out that, due to the genre, it will he enjoyed Leo doesn't want to pressure his new wife at all is perfection. Consent is hot and so is defending it!

So if it was practical I would use a solid 85% of this chapter as quotes but its not so let's just do a few basics shall we?

Robin is clearly having way too much fun at the expense of his friends but I love that already Leo will stand up to literally anyone on Rosamund's behalf. Its pretty presumptuous to stand up to her childhood best friend, but he sees that she is tired and overwhelmed and does not hesitate to look out for her.

‘Honestly, Rosy,’ Robin said fondly, ‘all that effort getting you a lawyer — well, half a lawyer — and a priest and a veil, and you don’t even indulge me with a proper kiss?’ He squeezed her shoulders. ‘You’re going to have to be more convincing than that.’ ‘Leave her alone, Robin,’ Leo said shortly — and Rosamund gave him a tired smile that made his stomach flip.

The happy couple then finally has a moment without Robin and realize that they need to look the part. I love how all in Rosamund is on everything in her life. She will do anything to protect her family and needs this marriage to be convincing. This means that while Leo just points out they need to look happy and be close to each other. Rosamund of course dives in and takes things a step further.

‘I need to be a bit more convincing,’ she said, and kissed him on the mouth.

I enjoy Leo's surprise at this. Like a lot. It also means that his reaction is genuine. He fully commits to the kiss and pulls her closer without really meaning too. I mean, who wouldn't react like this if someone they had feelings for kissed them unexpectedly? Ok, maybe not everyone, but I like to think I would have been a person to react to an opportunity like this.

We also get to hear Rosamund's thoughts including a particularly interesting one.

The hand kiss in the church had been sweet, and respectful. She might even have fallen a little bit in love with him at that moment when he’d looked into her eyes and understood.

This strikes me as her being a little flippant, even in her own mind. But I think its telling. The fact that she could even consider falling in love with him, even a little bit, even as a point of amusement, it shows the potential for genuine love there as well as the possibility that she might have feelings she doesn't realize yet.

Anyway, I'm stoked to keep reading. Here's to the next chapter!