Veth and Fjord make a really entertaining duo because of the way that they butt heads and argue most of the time, but I’m also so interested in all the compelling ways that they are very similar people. Obviously, their personalities are fairly different on the surface level, but many of their underlying issues are the same, as they were formed by bizarrely similar backstories. They were both severely bullied in their childhoods, causing serious self-worth/self-esteem issues that have lasted their whole lives, and they specifically both grew up being told they were ugly and strange by the kids (and adults) around them. They then escaped those damaging environments in the best ways they could—Fjord by ending up on the Tide’s Breath, coming into his own under Vandran's guidance, and Veth by marrying Yeza and having Luc, presumably establishing her own household and getting her out of her childhood home, where her brothers were a main source of the bullying she suffered from. Both instances have them reaching for independence from those who had harmed them, struggling to step into a semblance of better futures, though neither quite manage it in its entirety.
Then tragedy to strikes them both (Sabian’s betrayal; the goblin incursion). And though the circumstances of these tragedies were quite different, they both end the same way: water in their lungs. Both of them utterly changed in the act of drowning, neither of them in control of the outcome. They both become something new and other, something more dangerous than they once were. For Fjord, this is something of a gift, an opportunity to remake himself as he searches for answers. Veth, in a roundabout way, wants the same thing he does. But she doesn't want to remake herself into something new--she wants to remake herself into what she used to be.
This renders Veth and Fjord as something of mirrors to each other. Two people who should not have so much in common, but can see those similarities in the other anyway. Their backgrounds leave them with such similar issues that it's practically inevitable that they butt heads and argue and don't get along half the time, even though they do care about each other. We're talking about two people raised on self-hatred--they probably have some mixed feelings about seeing so much of themselves in each other. And I just think the way their stories are so symmetrical really deepens both of their narratives once you zoom out enough to see the way that their lives reflect each others'
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My english lyrics for Triage woo! (They're written out under the cut, I just wanted to share my lil chart lol)
Though I'm too indecisive to officially label this as my favorite song, it's had the strongest emotional impact on me by far. It holds a special place in my heart, I definitely wanted to write lyrics for it first! I'll leave all my rambling process commentary in the tags, but I was so happy with how it came out!!
All of those cards of promise thrown down carelessly,
This must be retribution for all I've taken endlessly.
If that were the case, it should have been fate for me to die.
That's the truth, given my crime, so why--?
No, I can't take it, to this cruel joke I'll submit. You
don't know, you can't know, but I'm ready to admit:
Killing for them, extracting for them, won't change the fact they're dead.
I need someone to tag me as RED.
It makes me sick (sick), it's too unpleasant. Sick (sick)
Is this punishment? What do you mean I'm INNOCENT?
I see, the world is cruel and leaves you on your own.
(I can't die) to atone. (I can't love) alone.
I can't be saved (saved), you've nothing to give. Saved (saved)
But what if I lived? Why else would you choose to forgive?
I see, there's lives to save so let's be sensible.
Right now, you need me, (I can be) indispensable.
Tilt to and fro, I know the scales should land on GUILTY for me.
Tilt fro and to, it's INNOCENT that they choose.
They cry (x4) out in pain, I can hear them. There's no one else, to guard their health,
My mission is offering help.
All of those cards of promise thrown down carelessly,
This must be retribution for all I've taken endlessly.
So if that's the case, then it must be fate to make amends,
Extract that fang before we meet the end.
It makes me sick (sick), it's too unpleasant. Sick (sick)
Is this punishment? What do you mean I'm INNOCENT?
I see, the world is cruel, but what I've realized is
(Now I want) to be INNOCENT. (Now I want) to live.
It makes me sick (sick), This wasn't my plan, hostages at my command.
Their future resting in my hands
I see, there's lives to save so let's be sensible.
Right now, please save me, (I will be) indispensable.
Maybe this was meant to be -- oh -- or maybe neither of us can know
There's lives to save so let's be sensible.
Right now, please save me, (I will be) indispensable.
---
I mentioned earlier that I always get annoyed with myself when people post translyrics and I can't figure out the rhythm they were going for, so here's a recording of me singing, but I'm bad at it! It's just for fun! Like a rough draft for music! Because the only thing worse than people hearing my voice is people thinking I can't count syllables!
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Hey hey adoring battleship move incoming, so how about: 16 for that Spotify prompt? Hope life (the move? There was talk about a move I think?) Is treating you well!
can you tell I’ve been posing / this way alone for hours / waiting for your affection / waiting for you
Steve had still been feeling pretty stupid until maybe five or ten minutes ago. He’s not sure exactly what happened, but something had shifted right around the time he’d realized it was too late to get everything untied and put away before Eddie was due back. Even if he changes his mind right now, he won’t have enough time to hide the evidence. There’s no backing out of this anymore.
It’s not his usual kind of thing. None of this is. He doesn’t do any of this, normally.
But someone had donated a bag of VHS tapes to the library, and Steve got assigned to go through them, and there had been one—
It hadn’t looked that difficult, and he’d told himself he was just curious. He’s always been good with his hands, so how tough could some knots be?
Pretty tough, as it turns out, but manageable. He works through the basic ties pretty quickly, and he’s still flexible enough to do a lot of it himself, even though the video is very clearly meant for someone to do on someone else.
The idea is…not unappealing. As he works through securing his ankles in a messy double-column tie, it’s easy to start thinking about what it might be like to loop the rope around someone’s wrists and pull it snug. Yeah, he could see why people might like that kind of thing. It takes a lot of trust, right? There’s no way to laugh it off, when someone hands you that kind of control. It’d be exactly like saying I can take it, I want to take it. Whatever you want to give me.
And that’s when he gets the idea.
It takes a little more preparation and a shopping trip, because he can already tell that the random stuff he’s been using to try different knots isn’t going to be comfortable enough for what he’s planning. Plus, he likes the idea of getting something that’ll look good on his skin. Something that makes people want to touch.
By this point, he’s stopped pretending that this is anything other than what it is: a hail-mary, last-ditch attempt to get Eddie Munson’s hands on him again.
He doesn’t try for anything too advanced, just the easiest harness on the tape and a frog tie holding his legs into a kneeling position. He practices the whole thing all together a couple times and it seems to go okay. He wastes some rope early on when he fucks up a knot so bad he has to shuffle all the way to the kitchen and grab some scissors to cut it, but it’s fine, he’d bought enough silky blue rope to tie a dozen harnesses at once. It had been way too expensive for freaking rope, but it had looked so much better than the hemp that he’d handed over the cash without a second thought.
He doesn’t try cuffs or a collar. It’s not—the cuffs feel okay, actually; the rope is soft and snug, and he can glance down any time and see how good the blue looks looped around his wrists. But he struggles to get them tied evenly when he’s one-handed, and he doesn’t want it to look sloppy.
Eddie likes effort. It’s a weird thing to notice about a friend, even a friend you might’ve hooked up with a couple times. It’s pretty obvious, though; Steve watched him run a game for the kids once, and promptly decided never to watch again.
Eddie throws all of himself into the game, all the time. It’s so much work. Steve’s seen the pages and pages of notes he keeps in his ragged binders, the way he commits to acting out all the different characters even when he sounds objectively dumb, how he gets so caught up in the moment that he’ll climb up on the goddamn table. Eddie never holds back.
He demands a lot from his players, too. They can fail. But even in that one game that Steve watched, it was obvious that Eddie doesn’t want them to fail; he just wants them to win while struggling against the toughest possible challenge. He wants to find their limits, and then push just a little to find their real limits.
Nothing’s happened with Eddie since before Steve saw that stupid game, but now it’s all mixed up in his head. He keeps thinking about how Eddie had crowded close, hands hovering and light, darting in and then away again; he keeps thinking about what it would be like to hear Eddie’s voice sound the way it does when he’s telling his players off, firm and deep, as he put his hands wherever he wanted on Steve.
So that’s what Steve’s been thinking about lately.
And it’s why he’s here on Eddie’s bed, frog-tied and wearing a rope harness that he wishes he’d done a little fancier, because he thinks Eddie would appreciate that. Every time he’s tried a fancier harness it’s gone wrong or looked weird, though, so this will have to do. He hopes it’s enough.
He’s not worried about it, exactly, because all of that stuff seems far away and smoothed over right now. He can remember worrying about a bunch of stuff, like whether he should be wearing clothes or not. He’d settled on just underwear because it had seemed a little too vulnerable to go without, but now that he’s all settled and feeling pretty good, he thinks that was a dumb thing to worry about.
Despite the weird way Eddie’s been avoiding him lately, Eddie had really seemed to like his dick at least twice before, so even if it’s not anything more for Eddie—even if dick is the only thing Eddie wants from Steve—he should get to have it. Eddie should get whatever he wants.
Steve shuts his eyes. He fills his lungs all the way, feeling the harness grip him a little tighter, and he exhales slowly.
He waits for the door to open.
Send me a number between 1-100 and I'll write a ficlet based on the corresponding song from my Spotify Wrapped! It will definitely be gay and may possibly be musical theater
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