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lady-of-tearshed · 6 months ago

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Awwwww. Okay, now this... this is something right there. Something really amazing. I loved it. 💕 Made me tear up a little 🥲

Azriel X Fem Human Reader

Summary: Azriel finds your journal and reads your depictions of the life the two of you have spent so far...

Content Warning: Memory loss, Death of a character, grief, someone on their death bed. Mention of Poison

Word Count: 2.9K

Tags: @milswrites @berryzxx @lady-of-tearshed @simple-fan2 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @riddlesb1tch

ACOTAR Masterlist

There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.

After the war when borders had blurred, a young human woman traveled to Prythian the land of the fae. Not aware that some still held hatred in their heart for her kind. The woman cornered by fae males twice her size, looking at her as if she were their next meal. Slamming her eyes shut the woman began to tremble and wishing she would have stayed in her safe little hut.

Yet no one had laid a hand on her. Not a hair out of place. She only opened her eyes when the shrieks and snarls of males overwhelmed her ears. Flashes of cobalt lit the alley. The males scurrying with their tails between their legs, no longer fierce predators, but the fearful prey.

Swirls of shadows slithered around the woman’s body, their touch soft kisses against her skin. They wrapped around her neck and back down before slithering away, one lone tendril remaining and resting against the woman’s wrist. Despite her life being threatened moments before she laughed. This sentient magical being was not scary, but playful and cute.

Then she heard the clearing of a throat and her head slid up, no longer paying attention to the shadow, but the person who wielded them. Whispers of the male and his friends were the talk of the village.

“Shadowsinger.” The male blinked in surprised at her knowledge of who he was.

The male spoke, and the woman, never heard a more lovely sound. “Most people call me Azriel.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Are you alright?”

The woman slid her hand into his and a spark erupted from his touch and the woman panicked as a gold thread wrapped tightly around her heart, she couldn’t see it. She felt it. Something in her mind told her that the other end led to the person in front of her. “You’re my mate.” He whispered. The woman didn’t know what he meant by that. She didn’t have to know. Two things she knew was true:

This Male’s name was Azriel, and this male named Azriel made her feel safe.

A few years went by and the woman absolutely adored her mate.

She had a mate! Someone who was her equal in every way. Someone who promised the day she accepted the bond to love and cherish her until the day air left his lungs for good. Only to promise that in case, he would simply find her in the next life.

The young woman now had a family to call her own and a loving partner to walk through life with. New adventures awaited them.

But she will always be grateful for making the trip to Prythian, the beginning of her Happily Ever After.

The end

Azriel closed the journal, his gaze eyes meeting your cloudy ones. “That was a lovely story, young man.” He smiled and gripped your now elderly hand. In the Spymaster’s eyes, you had only grown more beautiful with age. Your smile lines grew deeper from the years of laughing with Cassian. Forehead creases from playing too many games with Rhysand focusing on your shields so he couldn’t cheat. Every wrinkle, every crease, every spot told a story. Your story. As your body grew more wrinkles and your hair began to gray, the shadowsinger somehow fell deeper in love with you, your beauty knew no bounds and he thanked the mother that she chose you as his mate.

“You wrote it, my love.” Azriel gave you a rare smile and you returned it with one of your own. “It’s about how we met. About our bond. You wrote it to tell Nyx someday, to tell our children someday.” Children the two of you were never destined to have, your body too fragile to carry an Illyrian babe to term. You were devastated when Madja revealed that to you. You thought you were broken; Az recalled the numerous times you apologized to him simply for the human body you possessed. Your apologies met with arms around you and Azriel rocking you murmuring how you had nothing to apologize for.

You looked upon the fae male whom in the last 50 years had not aged. His hazel eyes felt familiar to you though you couldn’t place how. One thing you knew for certain was that this male was in love. “You have a woman in your life.” There was a flicker of sadness in the male’s eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. “An old woman can tell these things.”

The male gave you a smile, you felt inclined to reach for his hand, he immediately grips your hand in his own, the raised skin of his scars colliding with the frail now thin skin of your own. “I do. Would you like to hear about her?”

“Please.” The handsome male squeezed your hand. “She must be special, your eyes light up, just asking to talk about her.”

“She’s wonderful.” The male’s timbre shook slightly, you patted his hand encouraging him to continue. “When she reads, she always crinkles her nose, and her face always flushes when she reaches a smutty scene.” You chuckled, “When I return home from a mission, without fail she is the first one to greet me. Leaping into my arms, her scent consuming me entirely.” His thumb idly stroked the top of yours. “My favorite thing about her, is late at night before she goes to bed, she would sit at her desk and write in her journal.”

You blinked and you smiled at the sight of your best friend, your husband, your mate. “You always scolded me to come to bed.” Azriel let a sob lose as he pressed his forehead to yours. “No fair.” He sniffled as his shadows came to greet you, as if you had been gone for ages, “You haven’t aged in 50 years.”

Azriel pressed his lips to yours, “You have only gotten more beautiful with time, my love.” He pulled away and you were able to see every emotion in his hazel eyes. Most people had a hard time figuring out what Azriel was feeling. You always knew he held every emotion in his beautiful eyes.

You lifted a hand to his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, you swiped away his tears, “We agreed,” You whispered, “No tears. No goodbyes.”

Azriel whimpered and it was the first time you ever saw the spy master look defeated, broken, lost. “We were younger when we agreed to that. You can’t ask this of me.” His palm pressed over yours. “Not when we have such little time.”

“Az, look at me, baby.” His watery gaze met yours, “We were running on borrowed time. I’ve made peace with that years ago.” Another broken sob escaped him, and you began to feel your own tears coming to the surface. “I don’t want this to be how I remember you. This isn’t how I want us to part.”

“This life isn’t worth living, if you’re not here.” His shadows kissed your cheeks, drying your tears. “I can’t live without you, Angel.”

You pressed your forehead to his once more, your arms barely able to lift you up anymore. “You can, and you will. Nyx needs to see how you are not just serious. That you’re funny, and kind, he needs to know that Auntie loved him so much and will watch over him. Just like I will with you.” Your vision blurred as the tears trickled down your aged cheeks. “Maybe we’ll be lucky, and the Cauldron will turn me into one of your shadows.” A strangled sound came out of Azriel. “I love you, Azriel and I will love you in every lifetime.”

Azriel brought your lips to his once more. “I Love you too. Wait for me in the next life.”

“Hold me. One last time.” You moved to make room for your mate. He slid his boots off and tucked his wings tightly to make room on the cramped bed. He scooped you in his arms, his shadows resting comfortably around your waist. Your whole world holding you close to his chest. “Az?”

“Angel?”

“Will you sing me to sleep?” You whispered, your eyes growing heavy, your body feeling so weak.

Azriel’s wing came over as if knowing you had caught a sudden chill. “For you, my love. Of course.” Azriel’s melodic voice singing words of love and devotion. Before unconscious held a grip on you, you felt his lips on the top of your head, “Until we meet again, My Angel.”

Azriel awoke at the sound of feet pattering on the hard wood floor down the hall. He looked over at you, your skin paled, lips a slight shade of blue, Azriel couldn’t hear your heartbeat and the bond had faded to a dim light sending his love down only to feel hollowness at the other end. Tears slid down his cheeks as his shadows confirmed what he already knew:

Gone

She has left.

A little dark head of hair wandered in and Azriel jolted as the heir of the Night Court climbed on the bed. “Auntie!” His little jovial voice echoing through the room. Azriel moved and covered his mouth as he shut his eyes fighting the sob. “Auntie, it’s time to wake up.” The Shadowsinger opened his eyes to find Nyx brows furrowed. “Auntie?” He shakes your lifeless form before he places his head against your chest, as Rhys and Feyre reached the room. Nyx lifted his head, his lip wobbled, as he met Azriel’s eyes. “Uncle Azzy, why can’t I hear Auntie’s heartbeat anymore?”

Feyre’s cries broke the silence as she also realized how still you had become. Rhys looked at his brother as he held Feyre close. Azriel didn’t miss that he held her closer than normal, not that he faulted his brother. Rhys’ throat bobbed as though he was trying to contain his emotions, for his mate, and his son. “How long?” The High Lord’s voice cracked.

“We fell asleep. Her memory came back last night.” Azriel picked up Nyx. “I woke up, she was gone.”

“She’s right there.” Nyx argued. “Auntie, didn’t leave.”

Feyre sniffled as Azriel pressed his cheek to his nephew’s head, “Her soul is gone, Little one. Her body was not meant to live as long as us. She aged and yesterday her soul left this plane of existence.”

Nyx’s eyes, so much like his father’s, lined with silver. “Will she be lonely? I don’t want her to be lonely.”

Azriel held the boy close not noticing Cassian rushing in, pain lacing the General’s face as he walked over to your body. Grabbing your limp hand Azriel whispered, “No she’s not alone, sweet prince. She’ll be busy.” Cassian kissed the top of your hand and Azriel tried to keep his composure.

“With what?”

Feyre answered, “Watching over us. She’ll want to see her favorite nephew grow up.” She walked over, opening her arms so that Azriel would hand Nyx. “Uncle Az needs a minute let’s go down and grab you something to eat.”

The small child simply nodded as he cried into his mother’s sweater. Rhys and Cassian lingered, “I’m sorry, Azriel.” Cassian was the first to speak. “She was a wonderful person.”

“A better friend,” Rhys interjected.

Azriel climbed back into the bed and pressed your lifeless corpse to his chest, allowing the tears to fall. “My perfect mate.” A shadow slithered from your ankle and swirled wildly until spotting its master. The lone shadow lingered by his ear whispering.

I’m Here

I’m With You.

Forever.

🌟🌟🌟

A century had passed without you though Azriel never felt alone. Not when one shadow would remind him you were near. Especially as he lay in the same bed you once did after a mission had gone terribly wrong leaving the spymaster fatally wounded. Sweat coated his brow as Nyx now a grown fae male held his hand, “Uncle Az, I’m sorry I should have listened.”

“Your stubborn, like your father, I’m used to it.” Azriel coughed and blood sputtered from his mouth just as said brother walked in, Cassian in tow.

Nyx rose, “Father, I.”

Fury laced Rhysand’s eyes, “Go see your mother, Uncle Cass and I will be having an at length discussion with you about following orders.” Guilt laced the young males’ features but to Azriel’s surprise, the prince puffed his chest out and walked out of the room, not sparing his brothers a second glance. Azriel smirked.

You would have been so proud of the male he has grown to be.

“He’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?” Your voice carried and Azriel’s head snapped toward the door. His shadows scurried away and began swirling around your body. Not the older woman you were when you left this world, no you were the young woman who braved the fae lands alone. The fierce youthful woman, Azriel had fallen in love with, the only difference was your skin had an ethereal glow and your dress of tool, sleeves draping off your shoulders and down your feet.

“Angel,” Azriel whispered smiling, as Rhysand and Cassian sat at either side of him.

“Madja, said that the wound was laced with poison, she said he might hallucinate.” Rhys spoke holding onto his brother’s hand as if the grip alone could keep him from disappearing.

“We have spent over 600 years together,” Cassian’s tears falling. Azriel’s eyes remained on you as you walked deeper into the room. “I was supposed to go first.” Cassian’s sobs were thunderous but were muffled to Az as he watched you place a hand on Rhys. The High Lord briefly looked over his shoulder as if he felt your touch.

“You noticed my shadow huh?” You giggled as your eyes met Azriel’s hazel ones “I promised you I would be with you. I kept it.” Azriel wanted to speak but you held up your hand, “Baby, save your words.” You looked over at your friends. “They need them more than me right now.” You moved and Azriel thought you glided from one spot to the other where you pressed a kiss to Cassian’s cheek. A gesture the general always returned. Cassian’s hand slid there tentatively as if remembering your sweet gesture from years ago.

“Cass,” Azriel’s lips chapped throat tight, “You are my dearest friend. Thank you, for being kind to me and showing me what a brother really looks like,” Cassian’s voice broke as he kissed Azriel’s knuckles.

“Fuck you, you prick. You can’t leave. Please don’t leave.” He choked out, Azriel’s gaze turned to Rhysand.

“Rhys.” Azriel wheezed, “It was an honor to serve as…your spymaster…” Rhysand silently cried as he rested his forehead against the shadowsinger’s knuckles. His shadows are still swirling and kissing you. Azriel continued, “Being your brother, and Nyx’s uncle…has…been my greatest…honor…go…easy… on him…” Rhys nodded not being able to form words.

You approached your mate, “My love.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. “I have been granted the greatest gift.” You pressed your lips to his head, “I get to bring you home with me. We can be together again.”

Azriel hummed as another fit of cough erupted from his mouth jolting his two brothers’ alert. “Az, stay with us.” Rhysand’s voice grew panicked. “Azriel, please we still need you. Nyx needs you.”

Azriel’s eyes creaked open, and Cassian noticed life fading from them. “I love you both. Take care of each other.”

“Az-

Azriel cut the general off, “She…” both Cassian and Rhysand stilled, “is calling…me home…”

Rhysand and Cassian then looked to where his shadows were swirling, as if they could see you there. Cassian squeezed his hand fighting the tears. “Tell that little spitfire, hello for me.”

Azriel’s eyes began to droop. “I understand,” His violet eyes looked to where yours would be though he couldn’t see you, “I know you’ll take good care of him, like you did when you were here.”

You leaned down your breath lingering over Azriel’s lips, “It’s time to come back to me.” You kissed his lips and as you did, Azriel’s grip loosened from his brothers’. The roar of Cassian deafening. You pulled away from Azriel’s lifeless body only for hands to grip your waist hoisting you up, there was a glow to the now tanned arms, though his hands, no longer scarred, they were how he had always wished them to be, unharmed, undamaged. His nose grazed your skin, “I missed you too, Azriel.” He hummed.

“My Little Angel.” He pressed his lips to your cheek, “Take me home.”

You led him away, your hand adjusting to the now smooth skin of his own. He looked down at his hands and grinned, and your heart soared “No phantom pains, no ugliness.”

“They were never ugly, Azriel.” You scowled and kissed his knuckles. “Come now we must go.” You led Azriel away from his lifeless body, only to pause and turned to his shadows that were following the two of you, “Take care of them. You hear me.” The shadows nodded and swirled around Rhys and Cassian as if wrapping them in a snug blanket.

As they walked down the hall, glancing at Feyre holding a sobbing Nyx tear of her own, Azriel’s voice broke your concentration. “Tell me the story.” He didn’t need to elaborate.

You paused causing him to stop too, you pressed your lips to his, and he cupped your cheek. You put a hand to his chest and lightly pushed, “There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.” Azriel smiled as you led him to the afterlife.

His Perfect Little Angel.

~Fin

#angst queen #sara💕#moots #moots fic #awesome writer #writers on tumblr #azriel

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deoidesign · 5 months ago

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I'm so mad that post was misinformation because there is actually an EXTREMELY important conversation to have about the production schedules artists are forced into. There's no need for exaggeration, the conditions are bad.

I work for webtoon. My publication schedule is weekly. While publishing I'm required 10-15 pages a week. Fully colored.

This means I'm finishing a 150 page fully colored graphic novel every 10-15 weeks.

When my comic is not updating, I am not getting paid. Any time writing, editing, or off is out of my own pocket. I don't get healthcare. They do not provide any assistants. They expect me to promote myself; they chose to deprioritize me before I even launched and gave me an end date half a year in. I never had a chance.

And this is the industry standard! Every company has artists forced into crunch hours, overtime, and burnout. Artists are literally dying early due to it. So many of my friends can't afford to go to the doctor.

It's unsustainable and untenable, and it's also the expectation our audiences have.

If we want to have this conversation, there's plenty of conversation to be had with the realities of the situation. It's bad as is.

#and people get mad at us about 'short updates' lmfao #the companies are absolutely abusing our passion and our desperate situations #but readers genuinely offer little to no grace #if I am going to be able to leave #then the conditions for me to be able to leave need to exist #and they just Dont right now #I'm not making nearly enough to pay my bills without webtoon #I NEED the job #I dont have a car #I cant fucking afford one #I can't drive anyway #I NEED TO WORK #THIS IS MY JOB #I want to leave I'm being mistreated but I CANT!!!#anyways. whatever #I'm so fucking upset that someone just idk spread misinformation #and now the conversation is about like nooo she was under the same shit conditions as everyone else #she's just a really good writer #like okay that's awesome and I'm really glad #but WOULDNT IT BE NICE IF SHE WASNT ALSO OVERWORKED?#AND ALSO IF GOOD WRITERS WERE ABLE TO WRITE WELL WITHOUT HAVING TO BE OUTLIERS???#god it makes me so so so mad!!!!#fucking ruining a really important conversation to have!!!#we're mistreated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! we just are!!!!!!!!!!1 #I'm not paid enough to build the savings to take risks!#this 6 month break was EVERYTHING #I NEED to start working to pay my bills now #like it's over I ran out of time #its heartbreaking #I hate it here

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lyselkatz · 1 year ago

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Xue MíngHúa 薛冥華

Character notes by @howling-harpy :

Born 四娘 (Sì-Níang lit. Fourth Daughter), since at the time it was common that girls were not named at all. Her childhood nickname was 小桑 (Xîao Sang) according to the berries she picked.

Born in a southern region to a poor rural family.

The family profession was silk weaving that includes raising silk worms, handling the cocoons into raw material by boiling them and taking the catepillar out, then weaving the material into thread.

She was married off unhappily, lost her first baby in childbirth, and ran away. According to gossip, she managed to curse and kill her husband in process.

After joining the Xue clan, she started cultivating relatively late in life, and thus looks older than cultivators usually do.

Her Master gave her the name MíngHúa, "the underworld flower", reminding her that even after tragedy and torment one can flourish.

Her main spiritual tool is her flute, but she also carries a red parasol she uses as a weapon if needed.

Eventually she inherited the clan leader's title, 蟄魅閣主 (ZhíMèi GéZhû), "Master of the hibernating demon pavilion".

She's Yáo's adopted mother, even though nowadays he adresses her formally as the clan leader like all other disciples. She's hurt about this, but chooses not to say it. The elders always said she babied him too much and became too attached.

She still enjoys all sorts of hand crafts, and sews all her own clothes. She also does embroidery, basket weaving and shoe-making.

In the cultivation society, she's known as a tricky, strong-willed and a bit brash woman who has a tendency to get her way. Continuing the Xue tradition of getting the clan over the class barrier is her responsibility and she's succeeded mostly with jokes, sheer gull and bribary with candy and cakes the Xue clan is famous for.

For additional notes and general CQL feelings: @journey-to-tiger-mountain

...☕?/commission

#mdzs #the untamed #cql #demonic cultivation #魔道祖师 #cdrama #inspired #original character #陳情令 #lyselkatzcreations #xue minghua #the tale of Tiger Mountain #journey to tiger mountain #please give our baby a read #harpy is an #awesome writer

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oooocleo · 3 months ago

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every single time i want to buy a physical book im crying on my knees over all the meaningless review blurbs and printed-on 'stickers' w other random ass text on them on the FRONT covers aaarghhghh no this is not the first or last time i will complain abt this

#cleo talks #put whatever u want on the back cover i dont give a shit #but o my god if i have to see another “wow this book is awesome (:” - some writer on otherwise beautiful cover art #im literally about to start editing that shit out and rebinding books w. clean cover versions

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wr8tur · 9 months ago

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YAS! Ready for another one y’all???!!!! Thanks author!!!!

Pandora, Chapter 2:

#wenclair #wenclair au #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday #shapeshifter wens x werewolf enid #idiots to lovers #ao3 #fanfiction #recognize #awesome writer

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randomalistic · 2 months ago

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Cool awesome reminder that you don’t need amazing technical skill to be a good artist/storyteller

#I still compare myself to other people but also like. Damn. What if I don’t need to #That’s literally what working with other people is for . so you can fill in for eachother and make an awesome thing :)#Reminder that Toby Fox is not a skilled visual artist LOL he makes concept art in mspaint #Ik He’s more of a composer / character writer but you know what I mean. He works with other people to bring those ideas to life #You don’t have to be good at everything !!#Txt #art #I say this because rendering pieces of art takes me dozens of hours and it’s literally so much work and I hate it sometimes #Ok then make a simple stylistic choice instead of doing a giant painting !! it will still carry the same or maybe even greater impact #I still want to make awesome giant beautiful pieces of art (illustration) but alas I don’t have infinite energy #I usually only make sketches instead and that doesn’t mean they’re unfinished. Maybe that’s just all they’re meant to be #Until I change my mind at least 🩷#Adhd #Honestly anything that gets your idea across is good enough. Depends on the idea

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absolute-hooligan · 1 year ago

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Fun fact: I found out David tennant has a podcast with a guest that cycles out each episode (it’s very good, you should go listen) and one of them has Neil in it!

You can yell at me if this is old news now but this little bit about “have a nice doomsday” and episode threes cold open is so… agh, I love it

(hearing about Neil’s writing process in general is also incredibly neat)

#good omens #david tennant #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #the rest of the episode is also fantastic #the sheer about of information about their relationship from a writer perspective and actor perspective is awesome #I also adore the sandman talk lol #tags are showing me that everyone else flipped their shit at seeing all the guests too lmao #billie piper oliva colman catherine Tate and Michael are all also good ones #PS they’re all good #OH AND FUCKIN JUDI DENCH #hooligan uses words

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lemurianmaster · 2 months ago

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HOLY ANGEL BALLS, I need this like a pizza needs pepperoni 🫠

If this was something I could order for real, I'd be leaving a 150% tip and making a booking for most evenings.

Thank you so much for spoiling me

Good evening. Please may I make a reservation for one. I'd like to order a Simeon starter from the 'create your own menu', with "I want you in the most sinful ways..." for the main. If available, I would like a gentle femdom MC as a side dish.

For dessert... I'll defer to your recommendation ☺️

(thank you for at least considering this. If you decide to write this and have questions about gentle femdom, don't hesitate to ask ☺️)

Your reservation has been accepted. Hopefully you enjoy your meal. ☺️

Order 6

"I want you in the most sinful ways." Simeon x GentleFemDom!MC

A Journal Entry From One Of Simeon's Private Journals

I want you in the most sinful ways.

You probably know that already, but I don't think you realize the full extent of that statement. Some of that is by design, since I've only revealed parts of the truth to you.

I want to control you. But I also want you to control me.

It's weird, isn't it? That an angel is willing to relinquish power to a human? We're told that humans are too stupid to make their own decisions and so we must be there to guide them in the "right" direction. They are the sheep, and we their shepherds. The demons feel that way too, although they'll express these sentiments much differently than us. But it's the same concept.

Once upon a time, I wondered what it was about you that drove the brothers into submission. Some of them made sense, since they're easily swayed by whoever has the most power, but someone like Lucifer? The man that has historically despised being under another's control, even if they are a kind master? He should have never changed his mind, and yet he has, at least when it comes to you.

No mere mortal has ever had full control over a demon.

Then again, you are no mere mortal. Between your natural abilities and your ancestry, you've become something not quite human. But you're not quite an angel or a demon, either. You are something entirely different, something 100% of your own making.

You are MC.

And I've learned to not question it and instead simply embrace it and allow you to do what you will with that power.

Even though you probably won't ever read this, consider this a request to direct some of that power onto me. Make me submit to you.

I want you to bring me down to my knees. Tell me where to touch you, and how. I want to please you; use that knowledge to your heart's content.

Even if it means tearing me apart.

Not literally, of course, but I'm sure you know that already. What I mean is something much more pleasurable.

I want you to use me as one of your personal toys. Bend and shape me however you'd like. Push me to my limits, and then go a bit farther. Make it so that the only thing on my mind is you. The way you look, sound, smell, feel...

Reduce me to a whimpering mess. I know you can do it; I've seen the residual effects of your work on people you've had your way with. They walk around in a mindless daze, still consumed by the world you created for them, and they have a difficult time focusing on anything else while they're in that headspace.

I want you to make me feel that way. Destroy me and put me back together again. Hold me, love me, fuck me. Tell me that I'm your good boy and that I'm doing so well for you.

Please, MC. I'm begging you. Let me submit to you.

#hot shit #awesome writer #obey me simeon #Simeon #request

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mintreeea · 3 months ago

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Adrien stumbles back. The butterflies flutter around them, never touching but not afraid of their presence. Their wings are opalescent. “Plagg, what’s going on?” [a fight that you were born to lose by @captainkirkk]

Stumbled across this absolute masterpiece of a fic the other day and the visual for this scene just stuck with me so I had to draw it

#i really hope the writer doesn't mind me tagging them #the fic is from quite a while ago #but the writing and story is absolutely awesome #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #adrien agreste #adrien #miraculous adrien #mlb adrien #miraculous #ml art #mlb art #ml fanart #mlb fanart #my art

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spenglernot · 1 year ago

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STORIES TELLING: NED LOWE AND THE DEATH OF POOR REPRESENTATION IN OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

In history, Ned Lowe was one of the most sadistic and violent pirates in the early 18th century, so he’s an obvious choice for a villain for season 2, episode 6 – Calypso’s Birthday. What is interesting is what the OFMD writers chose to do with him.

Lowe announces himself to the crew of the Revenge with great fanfare (cannon ball attack) and gets right to the point.

Ed is thoroughly unimpressed.

Cut to Ed and Stede tied up while Ned attempts to set the mood so he can monologue about why he wants to kill Ed.

Ed knows what’s coming. He is going to suffer but he still can’t be arsed to meet Ned with anything but vaguely bored dismissiveness (and Stede is happy to play along).

Up on the deck, Ned prepares the crew for his big, dramatic moment of symphonic torture.

Note that the Revenge crew is tied down, braced by vices and generally unable to protect themselves from imminent torture and possible death, but their spirits are up. They don’t seem terribly fussed.

Then Stede uses his people positive management style to happily orchestrate a worker uprising in Ned’s crew.

Ned’s crew responds instantly; severing their allegiance to Lowe and telling him off.

The crew sails away and talks profit sharing while Ned dully threatens to hunt them down.

Ned is now a prisoner of the Revenge crew and seems entirely disinterested in his own survival.

And Ned sinks to the depths, without struggling at all.

There is a lot going on in this episode: pay and labor equity direct action, gay love engagement bliss, kink humor, Stede being a hero and saving his crew by playing to his strengths, then having to decide whether to kill in cold blood and feel the consequences of that choice. Ed having one more reason to be done with piracy (while being so impressed with and fond of Stede), and then watching his man make a fraught choice and having to deal with the fallout from that. (And, damn, I haven’t even mentioned the passionate sex bit.) Anyway, back to the point.

Now for the the meta part

The Ned Lowe sequences are perfectly in keeping with OFMD’s signature blend of madcap violence, humor, and big emotional gut punches. But something about Ned Lowe just strikes me as off for this show.

Ned is seriously threatening the crews’ lives, so why don’t they take him seriously?

Why does Ned have such a boring, throwaway backstory?

Why is Ned so nonchalant about his own death; like it’s a foregone conclusion?

Why does Ned have a silver violin and silver spurs on his slip-on dress shoes?

Why is Ned sartorially monochromatic?

And then I realized who Ned reminds me of.

This guy,

Earnst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond film Diamonds are Forever (1971)

And this guy,

Scar in Disney's The Lion King (1994).

And this guy,

Xerxes, 300 (2006).

And it sure seems like Ned Lowe isn’t just an episodic villain. He is an archetype of the one-dimensional, stereotypical queer-coded villain that has been endemic in film and television throughout history. The OFMD writers have a lot to say about what to do with this kind of character:

Don’t respect him.

Feel free to openly mock him.

Don’t let him take your joy, even though he will hurt you.

He won’t disappear on his own. You have to throw something at him (take action) to make him go away.

Once he’s in the water, he’s content to drown. He’s not into what he’s doing any more than you are.

Oh and, just to be clear,

The LGBTQIA+ community has a very long history of turning shit media into better stories. So, hey, big media, prepare to have your crap characters wrecked (improved).

Now, back to our transformative pirate show with rich, complex queer characters and a multi-layered plot that surprises me every week and makes me feel big feelings - most of all, joy.

Final thought: I do wonder if Ned Lowe is monochromatically silver as a tribute to/poke at, Hollywood and the silver screen.

This meta was written before OFMD season 2 has fully aired. No idea what’s going to happen in the finale (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after episode 8 airs.

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