#blackfiddle

[dizzy-izzy-in-a-tizzy]

"ned low as a silly guy who says memes" "ned low as a psycho threatening the crew"

yes, respect, go off besties, but also:

ned as the narrative's perspective on edward

ned as edward's violence

ned as a piece of edward that edward needs to reconcile with himself

ned as the part of edward that edward won't reconcile until it kills him/those he cares about

[perpendicularpotatoes]

The After-Image of a Myth [fic]

Chapter 4: A Clusterfuck of Tedium

The one thing Edward hadn't reckoned with was that it would be this fucking boring.

Ned has theories.

Edward has ADHD.

Vincent has nightmares.

John Russell wishes he still had his rosary.

And Izzy has to admit he lost Blackbeard.

[You can find optional details on this chapter's consent dynamics breakdown in an expandable details tag in the chapter notes.]

[perpendicularpotatoes]

The After-Image of a Myth [fic]

Chapter 3: The Monstrosity

Ned has come up with the perfect punishment for being ignored way to break Blackbeard.

Edward has a realization and an orgasm, in that order.

Hellkat Maggie regrets learning how to read.

[You can find details on this chapters consent dynamics breakdown in an expandable details tag in the chapter notes.]

[perpendicularpotatoes]

The After-Image of a Myth [fic]

Chapter 2: The Thing in the Corner

Just posted the second chapter of my Edward/Ned Low fic that ended up coinciding perfectly with Ned Low week...

Chapter Summary: Ned thinks the "Breaking of Blackbeard" is imminent. Edward realizes with dismay that he can't even remember the last time he got to suck dick. Consent being muddled would an understatement—the power dynamics might somehow be even less clear.

[perpendicularpotatoes]

The After-Image of a Myth [fic]

Can't believe I was finally getting ready to post the first chapter of my 7 chapter Edward/Ned Low fic and now it's apparently Ned Low week... so here we go:

What happens if someone tries to violently strip away what you have desperately tried and failed to shed for years? And what does it mean if after the mask shatters, still all they can see are their own projections?

Chapter 1: The Looming Threat of Mold

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Eighty-nine raids! So much that could go wrong there, so many stray bullets, so many opponents—their sheer number meant one might get lucky after all. And if all else failed, well, there was still the deranged sadist that had set the original record… “You know, uh, we've never met.” Low was slowly pacing around Edward. “But there's a reason for that.” Oh fuck me. Low had barely said two sentences and Edward was already getting tired. He was too hung-over for this…

This fic deconstructs dub-con captivity tropes to explore the tragic futility of just trying to be Edward—while the world just won't stop projecting all their fucked up shit onto you.

More consensual and hornier than you'd expect—but no Stockholm Syndrome, no “oh no, what if I like it?!” nonsense.

[optional consent dynamics breakdowns will be included in chapter descriptions]