#and variation two where she's just younger than him and i don't know how that works | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haljathefangirlcat · 7 months ago

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What's your ideal age range for the Volsung-Nibelung-Dietrich cycle characters? In the Scandinavian sources, Brynhild claims to have been adopted by Agnar and Aud at 12 to be their mascot valkyrie (which is what got her in hot water with Odin) and was put to sleep for any number of years, with sources differing on if her old retainer Heimir was her foster father or brother-in-law. Sigurd himself claims to be barely a man, that is, the legal adult age of 16, when Regin packs him off to slay Fafnir. Altogether it seems the two of them are rather young (16-19 physically?) and Gudrun is also in their age group. Later on Gothorm is too young to swear brotherhood with Sigurd and is thus used to kill him, making him younger than Sigurd and younger than 16 when they met.

In the Continental materials, Giselher is also called young, but there's no mention of Gernot and by extension Giselher being under 16 when they meet Siegfried. Gunther seems a fair bit older than them, being the first born and succeeding to the throne (as a sub-king, presumably, in versions where Gibich is still alive) shortly before Walther's escape from Etzel. However, he doesn't seem to have had a wife in either Continental or Scandinavian versions before his mother suggests Brynhild, which might indicate he's still fairly young. Historically he was active during 411-436, which gives him a 20+ year reign.

Hagen's age definitely has the greatest variation across sources. In the Nibelungenlied proper he's much older than the Nibelung siblings, but in the Walther stories he doesn't seem that much older than Walther, Hildegund, and Gunther, and the first two might be preteens at oldest. And of course in the Scandinavian materials, he's definitely younger than Gunther, being one of the Nibelung brothers. Classically, he's brother #2, slotting between Gunnar and Gothorm, with his father being Andvari/Alberich/Aldrian the elf. Wagner makes him presumably the youngest sibling. (Of course there's also the possibility that Grimhild/Ute just brought him along when she married Gibich, which would make him the oldest sibling. And also explain why Gibich would just pawn him off to Etzel.) Dankwart is also in the older adult range, but if Hagen was illegitimate, he could just have had a different mother, because who knows how long elves live, except it being very long. Hagen's unnamed sister (Gullrond?) would have to be much older to give Hagen two nephews, one of which is an adult during the Nibelungenlied.

Dietrich's age is also funky. He's presumably the same age as Wudga and Heime, his two closest companions until the exile. They don't seem to be too much older than Siegfried, Gunther, and Kriemhild. Dietrich gets tutored by Hildebrand when he's seven, acquires Hildigrim and Nagelring at fifteen, and has his Virginal/Wunderer adventure (the plots are so similar I suspect them to be the same story) at sixteen. He goes into exile sometime between the Rosengarten tournament and Kriemhild's marriage to Etzel. By then he's definitely a fair bit older than the young adults Alphart, Wolfhart, and Dietlieb, but Hildebrand is just ready to welcome the birth of Hadubrand. Historically, the Burgundian Nibelungs died in 436, the Visigothic Dietrich died in 451, Attila died in 454, and if Dietrich was also Theodoric the Great, he would've lived into 526. Then again, his family is known for ridiculously long lifespans, with the stories from his cycle claiming his father, grandfather, and uncle all lived into at least their 100s.

Hildebrand, Ilsan, Eckart, and Regin are all consistently portrayed as old guys. So is Sigmund in the Scandinavian material, where he actually featured prominently. Sigurd's two Volsung brothers are presumably dead during the main adventures, because Brynhild and Gudrun mention Hamund and Haki, his nephews via Hamund, usurping the Swedish throne and feuding with the pirate King Sigar. Helgi died in the prime of his life, while Hamund never appears on screen (but the movie adaptation of Hagbard and Signy mentions he was killed by Sigar a few years before, when his sons were children).

Etzel is definitely older than Walther, Hagen, and Dietrich, but strangely, there's no particular mention of him being old. Then again, there's no mention of Gibich and Ute being old in the Rosengarten story either. Nor is there any mention of how much Hjordis and Prince Alf might have aged in the Volsung Saga. In the Scandinavian stuff, Atli's sister Oddrun gets sneaky with Gunnar, but that version doesn't include Etzel's past with Walther, so who knows how old either of the Hun siblings are.

That's a great rundown of all the different traditions, and you make some great points.

As for me, I don't have really have age headcanons for anyone, going more for The Vibes and the "okay, what do I need for this concept to work?", but at the same time, age is one of those things where I tend to compartmentalize pretty heavily, for both practical reasons (I'm pretty sure I'd have a harder time than you keeping track of everything going on and gathering it all up into something coherent!) and thematic ones. (Simply put: different things work better for me, or have a stronger hold on me, in different contexts because I feel I can make more out of them on a narrative level.)

So, here's how things (generally) go in my head:

Norse sources: I tend to see Sigurd as rather young, because as you mentioned, he describes himself as such around the time he's sent off to kill Fafnir. I also tend to see his first adventures, from finding Grani to falling for Sigrdrifa/Brynhild and meeting Gjuki's children, as happening in rather quick succession, sort of a whirlwind of violence and drama and revenge and romance... so, yeah, still a teen (older teen at most) when he ends up meeting married to Gudrun. I imagine Gjuki's children to be all pretty close in age (except maybe Gothorm, a fair bit younger than the rest, and Gullrond, who reads sort of like a wise oldest sister to me, tho she doesn't feature a lot in my headcanons) and in the same age range as Sigurd, but I don't otherwise have a fixed birth order for in my head besides Gunnar being the oldest.

Brynhild is... complicated. You've got the enchanted sleep, and the question of how long it lasted and how fast or slow she aged, physically and mentally, in it. You've got all her wisdom and knowledge that, to me, makes her read a little older than Siegfried in her brief stint as his teacher, but then again, also the fact that she used to be a Valkyrie rather than just a mortal woman, so all that might be more supernatural knowledge and wisdom than anything else. And then, you have her foster father, Heimer (who's also her brother-in-law through her sister Bekkhild), and her brother Atli, and ofc Agnar. The timeline can get kind of messy, if you try to make it all fit in, because there's just so much stuff. The one thing I always stick by is Atli being considerably older than her (by a decade or more) and them not being particularly close, due to the "Atli didn't give much of a damn about getting compensation for her death, it was just a pretext to get the gold" interpretation, which is the one I tend to favor.

Nibelungenlied/Waltharius/continental sources: Here, I tend to see everyone as a bit older then their Norse counterparts. Siegfried, after all, has already conquered something like twelve kingdoms and gained his fair share of fame through distant lands by the time he comes to Worms -- and while dragon-blood-enhanced strength must certainly come in handy with all that, all in all, it must still have taken him some time. Still, I do seem him as kind of younger than you'd expect with his curriculum. A little older than yet still a good fit for Kriemhild, a maiden who's definitely able to fall in love and fall hard yet doesn't seem to have ever felt that kind of feeling for anyone before meeting him, to the point she used to see the whole thing as something foreign and that she could totally just choose to avoid.

My birth order for her and her brothers is generally Gunther > Gernot > Kriemhild > Giselher. With the eternal "youth" Giselher, who gets stuck with that title even in later parts of the poems being kind of the baby of the family. Not literally, ofc, but in the sense that, even if the poem counts him as one of the three kings of Burgundy and protectors of Kriemhild, it's his brothers who handle most of the harder work even while kind of "mentoring" him on kingship through the rather hands-on method of having him rule alongside them. Anyway, I see this whole set of siblings as pretty close in age, too, just to avoid overcomplicating my life, but with a couple of years separating Gunther & Gernot and Kriemhild & Giselher, something that also influences their dynamics as siblings.

When it comes to Hagen, I'm very influenced by the Waltharius, where he's presumably the same age as Walther and Hildegund and somewhat older than Gunther. I still don't see him as that much older than his kings, tho, as I interpret Gunther being too young to be sent away as a hostage to the Huns as him really being very young. Think Hagen being in his early teens and Gunther still being a child at the time. I tend to assume something like an at least five years difference between them, and then Gunther ascending to the throne a bit younger than he should probably be due to Gibich's very sudden and premature death, with Ute being his counselor (or trying to be, at least -- Wasgenstein wasn't exactly the most brilliant idea and I do think she opposed it but also that in the end it was still his choice) for the first few years and then him naming Gernot (and finally Giselher) as his co-kings as soon as possible due to feeling the pressure of being the only ruler as soon as he got started on the job. (Which, in my head, also contributes to him only setting his eyes on a bride rather late, despite the court muttering a bit about it at times... too much stuff on his mind already, and for a good while, too.)

Dankwart is an interesting case, as in the latter half of the poem, he claims to have also been just a youth when Siegfried was murdered. Granted, I've seen interpretations dismissing that info as a mere messed-up timeline or as Dankwart just lying through his teeth, due to his role in the court of Worms, but I personally find more interesting/funnier to take it as face value. The idea of him being about as cunning as his older brother Hagen and proving himself as an asset to the kingdom from an early age (perhaps in part to live up to Hagen himself and his deeds) yet playing the "I am/was only a regular youth" card when it suits him is higly entertaining to me. As for their sister, the mother of Patravid and/or Ortwin, I see her as the oldest of the trio, and definitely already out of the house by the time Aldrian volunteers Hagen as a substitute hostage.

(I'm not very fond of the "Hagen as Gunther's uncle/family friend so dear he might as well be a blood-related uncle" thing, tbh. Does it have some backing? Yeah. Do I see it in the way the characters interact? Not really, and that's what matters the most to me.)

Etzel/Attila was already a considerable threat for the Burgundians at the beginning of the Waltharius, and married, too. And yet, apparently still childless... unless his children with Helche, who iirc get killed by Witege at some point, have already died by then. (But that does involve Dietrich, after all, and... er, I'm talking about him in a moment, let's leave it at that for now.) So, he's a bit of a question mark to me. Tho I like to think he and his wife ended up treating Hagen, Walther, and Hildegung almost like their children, whatever void in their life they're trying to fill by doing that... but ofc, that was a whole mess in it's own way, when everyone was perfectly aware that a broken treaty could spell death for any of those three. (Hi and welcome to a new episode of: Waltharius Manu Fortis Absolutely Obliterates Halja's Feels, I suppose.) I do see his later marriage to Kriemhild as a kind of May-December romance. Or, well, "romance."

Dietrich is... Dietrich. If Brynhild's complicated and Etzel a question mark, he is a headache. I'll admit I've never even tried to build a timeline for him that could possibly make sense in my head. Stephan Grundy has a bit of a running joke about him looking like he never gets old/no one being able to figure out his age for sure, and, tbh, I totally get him. Drag him.

Bonus Wagner's Ring Cycle: I'm pretty sure Gunther mentions being the firstborn... tho I've only ever read the libretti/subtitles to the operas in Italian and English, so for all I know, he might as well be just saying that he has the right of primogeniture, as the one legitimate male son. Still, I see Gutrune as the middle child and Hagen as the youngest. This is another canon that skews very young in my head, with Siegfried, the Gibichungs, Wotan's eternally-maidenly Valkyries, as well as Siegmund and Sieglinde in Die Walkure, all being some subset of Troubled Teen Who Needs Therapy (As Well As Better Parents), Not This Shit. Based on the implied timeline in Die Walkure, I think of Hagen as just a little older (a few months to a year, no more) than Siegfired. I love to joke about the former being a cynical goth/emo teen (Hagen's Night Watch scene and its endless -- if objectively kind of justified -- bitching, my beloved) and the latter being your typical meathead teen jock. I also joke about Gutrune being the stereotypical middle child with no self-esteem and Gunther being the young adult who should probably be at least a little more mature and responsible than everyone else, given his age, but is really just a mess on every level, but alas, I do that mostly just in my head, because sometimes I get the impression it's mostly just me seeing (or being interested in seeing) them this way.

#ask #fate-magical-girls #norse mythology #volsunga saga #nibelungenlied #ring cycle

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veliseraptor · 2 years ago

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Inspired by 'it's not love, it's obsession': what are your thoughts on the parallels between Luo Binghe and Xue Yang?

oooh this is a fascinating one.

One of my favorite things about looking at MXTX's books as a corpus of work taken together is the ways in which you can see her evolving as a writer. I don't necessarily mean stylistically (I don't feel like I can speak to that, since I can't read the original), or even necessarily narratively (though I do think TGCF is the strongest narratively, for all it's probably longer than it needs to be). What I really mean is how you can see her coming back to the same themes over and over and exploring them with variations and shades of difference. There are very clearly things that are MXTX Concerns, as it were, that she revisits and echoes and plays with in all of her works; questions about justice and the cycle of violence are one big one that I've thought a lot about personally.

And when you're looking at the three books together, there are places where you can draw throughlines - for instance, from Yi City > Black Water Arc, or from (arguably) Xiao Xingchen > Xie Lian. In light of the trivia that Yi City comes at least in part from an older, abandoned story MXTX worked on when she was younger (per an interview with her, I believe), I feel like you can draw the line from Xue Yang > Luo Binghe as far as some of the tropes being played with. Xue Yang is (in some ways) an echo of Luo Binghe is an echo of an older story that had a character who may or may not have been named Xue Yang.

In obvious ways Xue Yang takes a different position in the story he ends up in than Luo Binghe does in his (he ends up an antagonist), but while one could look at the Song Lan/Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen trio and posit Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan as the intended pair of whatever original story they came from, that doesn't, in my eyes, fit with the other relationships MXTX chooses to write. Xue Yang lives at a nexus of a lot of the things MXTX pokes at with Luo Binghe and, yes, Wei Wuxian, but also (to a lesser degree) Hua Cheng - the legacy of childhood violence, the importance and weight of small kindnesses in changing a person, the probing at the idea of people as irredeemable or incapable of change (and finding it lacking).

He comes from a disadvantaged, marginalized background (as do the other two protagonists) and, despite perpetrating atrocious acts of violence (Wei Wuxian actually, Luo Binghe less so in SVSSS canon but explicitly so in PIDW, which is the way Shen Qingqiu relates to him initially), kind treatment from a single person having a deep impact on their behavior. There's also the quality of deep, obsessive devotion, notably beyond death, that Xue Yang shares with Luo Binghe, Lan Wangji, and Hua Cheng (portrayed in the latter two cases as clearly and explicitly romantic and to be valued). Xue Yang doesn't occupy a protagonist role in MDZS (obviously), but he has some of those thematic qualities that tend to pop up in MXTX protagonists and/or love interests.

(Hua Cheng might stand out here, and he is different, certainly, but I would point to the very, very early identification of him as inherently ill-fortuned and bad to be around. Xue Yang has TGCF echoes, I'd say, to a lesser extent in Hua Cheng than in Jun Wu, but I don't think the echoes are absent from Hua Cheng, either.).

This positions Xue Yang, potentially, as (if we're using a crude metaphor) a little bit the Luo Binghe to Xiao Xingchen's Shen Qingqiu, with Song Lan potentially occupying more of a Yue Qingyuan place (but of course that's just speculation and we'll probably never know).

This is a lot of tl;dr but I guess the main thing I'm thinking about here is that while it's I think shallow to describe Xue Yang as a proto-Luo Binghe (or rather, ur-Xue Yang from that older story as), I think it's fair to see that relationship between the two characters as part and parcel of MXTX's revisiting, revising, and reconsidering the same themes over and over again in her work - in the same way, I think, that within the same story Wei Wuxian's parallels with both Xue Yang illustrate that same impulse. (And not, to be clear, as a simple "this one good, this one bad" morality tale; what MXTX is doing with her parallels is, I daresay, more interesting than that.)

anyway, there you have it. I feel like this went maybe a little left of what you were asking (maybe you wanted me to talk about the actual parallels in terms of character?) but this is a sub-category of that subject I personally find very fun to think about.

#conversating #glacia main #good lord there are so many parentheses in this post #lise does meta #dysfunctional gods and ghost kinks #the sad queer cultivators show #i don't have a custom svsss tag whoops #svsss #xue yang #luo binghe

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meoproject · 8 months ago

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Yeah. Well. Val knows Beriith is tall compared to her, but she lacked context as to how tall Beriith is compared other members of his race. And. Hm. Yeah. Beriith is tall, even compared to his own kind. Not, like, unnaturally so? but tall enough for other goets to note it as a significant feature of his.

I also never draw Val's and Beriith's actual height difference unless it's a full body picture :') she's just lunking around several Scully boxes so she can fit in the frame better.

(the map also isn't a representation of any region in the story/world, i haven't made any maps for the world so i had to whip up something map-like for this piece.)

(also Goet language isnt like. a real conlang and not even a real cipher, its just nonsense, i should redo the font too.)

BONUS!

One significant Beriith feature that I can't really convey well is that he speaks with a noticeable accent. I've thought about phonetic accents a lot (thanks to another of my projects which has a character with severe speech impediment of not having lips) and since the balance of fun and annoying is quite delicate, I don't really write them out unless I really have to, and even then I'd downplay it. Beriith's accent isn't meant to be to thick anyway.

More accent talk under cut for those interested.

If we take "middle common" (the language Val and Beriith speak with each other) to be non-diegetic "English", Beriith has, in comparison, fairly flat intonation, and he trills his Rs and has some trouble with "ng" sounds and Ws, which he generally pronounces more like Vs. He also pronounces "th" sounds leaning towards Zs, which sorta runs into the slight logic bomb of "wait, doesn't his name end in 'th', but the watsonian explanation is, of course, that transliteration of his name from Goet to middle common isn't perfect and the h just implies a sightly softened t sound :) (the doylist explanation is, of course, that I decided the name before figuring out how accents work, but if you explain it away, it's not a mistake, just worldbuilding!)

As mentioned before, Beriith's accent isn't thick or anything, definitely not Hollywood-thick, but everyone who hears him speak either knows where he's from or wants to guess where he's from (though you can know but looking at him, Goets are distinct enough, but you know what I mean.)

Val, by the way, speaks the most generic middle common imaginable, like only a step or two below news casters; that's by design (of her parents). They sent her (and her siblings) to a school that specifically taught middle-common without any strong regional accents to give her the most easily-understood accent imaginable. Her family are big into business, mostly in export/import, so her parents figured out having children with neutral, easy to understand, "trustworthy" way of speaking would be the best. Yes, this means Val's parents have a completely different accent than she does, and Val speaks their variation of Elvish with a middle common accent. It does cause some bitterness, Val is kinda... not okay with it, but since her studies are all in middle common anyway it's kinda... whatever, not good but could be worse, but her younger sister is especially upset with not really knowing Elvish that well.

Val is fluent in three languages, middle common, high common (it's occasionally used as a language of magic studies, it's kind of an older version of middle common, or rather a version that has more in common with the older version of the language and branched out a bit differently) and Elvish. Beriith is fluent in like five languages and conversational in several more and "can sort of understand" in many more.

(this wasnt the vignette i was talking about earlier but i needed to get this out of my system.)

#youre free to guess or just ask how beriiths accent sounds :) i know but im not sure if i should actually spell it out #original character #project:a fantasy setting #comic #demon #elf #fantasy #art

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addictedtostorytelling · 4 years ago

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Why does no one call him "Bert" or "Bertie" ?

(I don't know where my brain went)

hey, @coping-via-clint-eastwood!

honestly, i think the answer here is “just because they don’t.”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

however, i’ve got some more general thoughts about why grissom primarily goes by the names that he does under the “keep reading,” if you’re interested.

______

name-shortenings are idiosyncratic things.

some people whose given names have multiple natural shortenings are fine being called by any one of them; others prefer one or two particular shortenings but are annoyed by the others; others have no preference between their full given name or a shortening; others go by one shortening exclusively (and never by their full given name); still others always go by their full given name and disdain all shortenings altogether; still others go by a nickname that has little or nothing to do with their full given name or its natural shortenings; etc.

further, while some people choose to go by a name-shortening of their own selection, others have a name-shortening “thrust upon them” by their family members and/or friends.

there are even those who are called by a particular name-shortening by only one person or group in their wider social circle, plus a handful of folks who switch between various shortenings as they move among different groups within their social circle, perhaps having their friends call them one thing, their siblings another, and their parents another.

for example, someone may be robert at work, bob to his brother, and bobberino to his drinking buddies.

it all depends on the person’s preferences and the habits of their friends and family members.

on the show, we know that grissom typically goes by his surname, which is available to everyone to call him. however, his peer-aged coworkers and/or those who are equal to or above him in rank (including brass, catherine, doc robbins, and ecklie) also sometimes call him gil, and his younger team family members (including nick, warrick, and greg) may also call him griss. sara, as first his girlfriend and later his wife, gets to call him both gil and gilbert, despite being younger than he is and his subordinate; she typically uses the latter name in a flirtatious manner.

in terms of his self-references, he typically calls himself either gil or grissom, depending on the situation at hand. however, he also uses his full name (“dr. gilbert grissom”) in his professional work.

while grissom does show some preference in terms of whom among his coworkers calls him what variation of his name—for instance, as sara tells nick in episode 11x03 “blood moon,” he likely would not appreciate nick casually referring to him as “gil”—he nevertheless doesn’t seem to either like or dislike any one variation of his name more than another; he’ll happily respond to gilbert, gil, grissom, and griss all equally, as long as it’s the right person using the right name.

never on the show does anyone call him bert or bertie, which would also be natural shortenings of his full given name.

since no one does ever call him by these names, we don’t know how he would react to them—which is to say, we can’t be sure if he’s not called these names because he is actually averse to them or simply because nobody chooses to call him them (even though he would accept it if they did).

obviously, we don’t get to see grissom’s first introductions to the main members of team graveyard (catherine, warrick, nick, sara, and greg), so we can’t know what preferences or proclivities he expressed to them specifically with regards to his name upon meeting their first acquaintances.

however, since grissom typically introduces himself as “gil grissom” throughout the course of the show both to numerous persons-of-interest in his cases AND to other new coworkers, such holly gribbs in the the pilot and riley adams in episode 09x03 “art imitates life,”* my sense is that that’s probably what he does when meeting his main teammates back in the day, as well.

* thanks to @bartramcat for the reminder.

given that that’s most likely what he introduces himself to them as, that his coworkers then stay within the general realm of the name “gil grissom” in terms of how they refer to him isn’t at all surprising, and particularly not given etiquette conventions in the modern american workplace, especially in the law enforcement community.

(for example, calling one’s coworker by their surname is a fairly common practice in a workplace team setting, and especially at a police department, as is referring to one’s boss or superior by their surname as opposed to their given name.)

to my mind, then, “bert” and “bertie” are never really on the table largely because grissom doesn’t offer them up and they’re fairly far-afield from “gil grissom.”

conversely, “griss” is on the table because it’s already contained in his original given name.

still.

we are left with the questions “why not ‘bert’ or ‘bertie’? how did grissom decide on ‘gil’ in the first place? what is his history with his name?”

in terms of that first question:

it may be the case that grissom has just always seemed more like a gilbert or a gil than a bert or bertie, to others and/or himself.

it may also be the case that the natural alliteration of “gil grissom” made “bert or bertie grissom” unappealing by comparison.

it may be that grissom shares his name with someone in his family who themselves goes by bert or bertie (like his father or grandfather), so he goes by gil to differentiate.

it may also be that he or his parents had a bad association with someone named bert or bertie and so weren’t keen on the name just in general.

it may also be for some reason that is completely unknowable to us (particularly as we know so little about his life prior to the start of the show).

honestly, there could be myriad reasons why he doesn’t go by bert or bertie.

as a totally tangential aside, i’ve always liked that both grissom and sara have initials that follow the same consonant-vowel-consonant pattern: gilbert arthur grissom and sara ann sidle (at least as per their old cbs character biographies).

so why is it that of all the name-shortenings or nicknames he could have, he chooses (mostly) to go by gil or grissom?

personally, i think the fact that grissom is a coda may play into his preferred name(s).

here’s how i figure:

based on the few descriptions grissom offers of his own childhood and adolescence, he seems not to have had many friends while he was going through school (see episode 02x04 “bully for you”).

i therefore consider it unlikely that he would have been given a name-shortening or nickname by his peers.

if anything, any kind of alternate name for him beyond his given one would have likely come from his parents (particularly considering that, in canon, he is an only child).

in canon, we don’t know if grissom’s father was hearing or deaf.

if grissom’s father was hearing, then he and grissom may have communicated using spoken english to supplement the asl they also used to communicate with and around betty.

if so, then certainly it’s possible that grissom’s father referred to grissom using any one of several natural name-shortenings for gilbert (gil, gilly, bert, bertie) and/or even a nickname which had nothing to do with his given name (cf. nick’s dad calling him “pancho”).

however, even if it were the case that grissom’s father had called him by a name-shortening or nickname, the primary language in the grissom household still would have been asl, and so grissom’s mother would have always referred to him in asl, while his father would have also referred to him in asl IN ADDITION to using his spoken english name-shortening or nickname, meaning that by and large, grissom probably would have been addressed in asl far more often than he was with his spoken english name-shortening or nickname.

of course, after grissom’s father’s death when grissom was nine, asl would have become the only language used in the home, with grissom referred to by his mother solely in asl from that time forward.

—and that means that if “bert” or “bertie” were ever a thing that grissom had been called at home, it was only an occasional thing between him and his father AND something that likely would not have persisted past the age of nine.

the bert/bertie nickname also may have been something that he associated with his father and which he would therefore perhaps be uncomfortable with other people calling him after his father’s death.

since in all probability he was most commonly referred to in asl even when his father was still alive AND since in all probability whatever name-shortenings or nicknames his father may have used for him (if any) likely were only used during the first nine years of his life anyway, i tend to think grissom associates more strongly with whatever he’s called in asl than anything else.

now.

members of the deaf community have their legal names in the spoken/written language that is used where they live or in their family culture; these are the names that appear printed on their birth certificates and which they use in written communication and when they interact with spoken language speakers.

however, in whatever sign language they use, they tend to be known by a name sign.

name signs are not directly equivalent to one’s legal name.

they are typically bestowed upon a member of the deaf community by other members of the community.

historically, it has not been common for hearing people to receive name signs; however, one group of hearing people who do often receive name signs are codas, or hearing children of deaf adults—like grissom—who can be considered members of the extended deaf community by way of their parent(s).

hearing people who can communicate in asl but have not been given name signs typically fingerspell their names.

a name sign is not something that one chooses for themselves. it is given to one by others in the community, including friends, family, members, and schoolmates. while both hearing and deaf people who grow up in deaf families may receive name signs at birth or at least at a young age, many deaf people from hearing families do not receive name signs until they start attending schools or camps for the deaf and are around other members of the deaf community for the first time in their lives.

in asl, name signs are usually formed in one of two ways: either by using the first initial of the person’s legal name signed in the neutral space in front or to the side of the body or on a particular body part such as the wrist, face, chest, or shoulders; OR by using a sign that is descriptive of the person’s behavior or physical characteristics signed around or on the body or in imitation of the behavior or characteristic itself.

for example, someone whose legal name started with the letter k might be given a name sign which was the asl letter k signed over the wrist. however, that same person could also be given a name sign that used a curled index finger signed near the hairline in recognition of their curly hair.

name signs that use letters and are more generic are called “arbitrary name signs;” they don’t reflect a person’s personality or characteristics. “descriptive name signs” are the opposite: they do reflect the person they’re given to, in terms of how that person looks or acts or even based on things they like. they may or may not use letters.

in asl, some descriptive name signs are based on characteristics that might be considered “rude” to take note of or mention among hearing english-speakers. for example, someone’s name sign might be based on the fact that they have a noticeable facial scar or are fat. to hearing people, it would be impolite to mention such traits. however, in deaf culture, these traits are considered obvious both to the person themselves and the people they encounter, which means that said traits may be discussed openly without embarrassment.

the same is true of descriptive name signs based on behaviors; for example, if a deaf child cried upon being dropped off by their parents for the first time at camp, their deaf campmates might give them a name sign that mimicked the sign for crying or crybaby. again, though in hearing culture such a name would be considered meanspirited, in deaf culture, it is just a matter of fact and does not carry negative connotations.

while there are rules within asl for how to form name signs using sign grammar conventions and who can grant name signs and when, there are no standard name signs themselves—meaning that not every person named “bob” would have the same name sign.

moreover, if one has an arbitrary name sign (like the letter d signed at the shoulder), then one may share that name sign with others who have completely different legal names than they do—so, for example, two people whose legal names were denise and deshawn both might use the letter d signed at the shoulder for their name signs.

typically, within local deaf communities, people try to avoid repeating name signs as much as possible—so if a child is being given a name sign for the first time, the giver will make sure that it’s something unique that doesn’t already belong to a friend, family member, or neighbor.

obviously, we don’t know what grissom’s name sign is or if he even has one at all.

since he’s hearing, it’s possible that he doesn’t and just fingerspells his name as necessary. if so, then he may primarily go by “gil” because its the quickest and easiest version of his name to fingerspell.

however, if he does have one, it was almost certainly given to him by betty, and she probably gave it to him when he was very young—perhaps even at birth.

while it’s possible his name sign is descriptive and has nothing to do with his given name, it’s also highly possible that whether his name sign is arbitrary OR descriptive, it makes use of the first initial of his name, g.

if so, then i suspect grissom grows up associating himself with the letter g and linking his name sign to his spoken english name gilbert or at least to its most common shortening gil.

this identification with the g in his name is likely reinforced when his teachers at school, reading off of the roll, call him “gilbert” or “gil”—and particularly as, after the death of his father, grissom likely has no one in his life who would call him by a spoken english name-shortening or nickname and so would be unlikely to volunteer an alternate name (like bert or bertie), even if he were to be asked.

in his mind, he would either be called by his name sign or by his legal name.

the only other real alternative would be his surname (which, of course, also starts with g).

in any case, i think that if grissom were ever going to be called “bert” or “bertie” as an adult, it would have had to be a thing that started in childhood for him.

however, for the reasons outlined above, i don’t believe that it’s likely that even in childhood grissom was ever called bert/bertie—or at least if he was, i don’t think that particular name-shortening lasted for long with him; certainly not much past the death of his father or into his adolescence.

i think it’s much more likely that in terms of what he is called in spoken english, he has always associated with gilbert, gil, grissom, and/or griss much more strongly than anything else.

that’s just my take, though.

like i said up top, the only thing we can really say for certain about why he doesn’t go by ��bert” or “bertie” is just that he doesn’t.

his teammates all have other names for him, and bert/bertie don’t make the cut.

anyway, sorry i can’t be more definitive.

thanks for the question! feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #asks: csi #**#my meta #meta: csi #meta: grissom #csi #gil grissom #let's talk shop #csiverse #coping via clint eastwood

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go-diane-winchester · 6 years ago

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Cockles vs J2 Tinhats

Someone tagged me in a post with a gif of Jensen smacking Misha in the crotchel region in last year's gag reel. You know the one. Apparently, it is supposed to be proof of Cockles. The person who tagged me ships destiel and cockles. She put a smiley face next to the tag, and she followed me, which might mean she is trying to be friends. Not sure. Well hello hun. Thanks for tagging me. I don't know what the purpose is. Maybe you want me to see what you see. Hunny, I know what cockles is. I am familiar with tinhatting and I am fairly thick-skinned about it. So unless you take the hatty stuff to the actors, I have problem with you...the cockles tinhats actually do tweet hatty things to the actors. Hmm, not cool.

This will be a good opportunity to examine both Cockles and J2 tinhat theories. And why that clip is not proof of cockles for me. Just for fun.

Jensen and Misha

As a lead, Jensen is contracted to be in every episode. Misha, a guest star, is only in a few episodes per season. This means that these two actors don't get to spend a massive amount of time with each other unless they are working. Misha lives, to the best of my knowledge, in Bellingham. Jensen used to live in California, but moved to Austin. Jensen usually does only one panel per year with Misha. Jibcon. If it weren't for conventions, they would spend even less time with each other. If you love some one and you are a lead, wont you ask for more panels with that person. Yes, I know someone will that they don't do more than one panel because the evil bronlies will complain. Hunny, if they cared about fans throwing a tantrum, Misha would have been off the show the minute Jensen received a death threat from hellers.

Misha and Jensen have no common interest. Jensen loves watching sports, playing golf, listening to rock music, playing the guitar and singing. Misha likes, cycling, carpentry and Tibetan throat singing. They have nothing in common. If you like someone who has different interests than you, wouldn't you try to learn more about their interests and join them in pursuing their interests. Jensen and Misha also don't have complimentary personalities. Jensen doesn't swear on stage. Misha is foul mouthed. Jensen doesn't make overtly sexual remarks. Misha is very vulgar on stage. They outlook on the art of acting is also starkly different. Jensen has a love for his craft, whilst Misha has confessed to not having a particular knack or passion for acting.

According to tinhats, Cockles are happily marreid to their respective wives but all four of them have orgies together. Of course, there are variations to this theory. When cockles tinhats are asked what proof they have for how they feel, they say:

Jensen laughs at Misha's jokes [and its a unicorn laugh apparently]

They mention Jibcon, where they claim Jensen got drunk and flirted with Misha on stage.

Jensen and Misha are flirty with each other, caressing each other's cheeks.

Jared Padalecki is proof of cockles because he ships it the most and gives clues to what is going on between Jensen and Misha.

They share shirts.

The crux of Misha's first impression of Jensen [from an earlier con]:

‘He actually seemed standoffish, when I first met him. As I got to know him, however, I realized that he really is standoffish.’

Jared and Jensen

Jared and Jensen are the leads. They spend nine months out of the year working with each other. They have worked together nonstop for the past 13 years and counting. They also live down the road from each other in Austin. They used to live together and were best men at each other's weddings. Their children go to the same school and call dad's friend ''uncle''. Tom is Jensen's greatest fan and Jared regrets not being there for the birth of ''Birdie'' [JJ]. They have an extended family situation. Despite spending all their time together, they also go on holidays together. They are both middle children, both have an older brother and younger sister, grew up in Texas, love country music and sports. Jared plays the guitar in his trailer everyday and, according to Jensen, he is very good. Jared joins Jensen to play golf although he admits he is not very good at it.

Jared doesn't swear on stage. He did once, by accident, but he was mortified and apologized. He makes goofy jokes, not vulgar ones. Jensen admires Jared's rendition of white suit luci but to date hasn't really said anything truly about Casifer. He did laugh at the Empty!Cas voice though. So Jensen admires Jared's acting efforts. It wasn't the first compliment he paid to Jared's acting abilities. He hasn't done the same for Misha's work as Castiel. Jared helped Jensen with the construction work for the FBBC. When Jared got sick at Jib a few years ago, Jensen took to the stage and sang a song because being Jared's emotional support. The next year or so, he sang the song again on Saturday night, with Jared watching teary eyed. That same year Jensen hugged Jared in the closing ceremony. The year after that, Jensen hugged and sang Wayward to Jared in the hallway after the closing ceremony. When he broke down, he hugged Jared many times, but when Misha tried hugging him, Jensen said ''don't''.

According to J2 tinhats, J2 have been married to each other since season four ish. Genevieve signed a contract to be Jared's wife, and Danneel was just helping out her friend Jensen. J2 are the parents of six children. There are variations to this theory too. When asked for proof of their feelings, J2 tinhats say the following:

Jared wiped his snotty nose on Jensen's sleeve.

Jared called his drink and dinner with Jensen #datenight on Twitter.

When someone called Sandy [Jared's ex-girlfriend] his beard, she liked the comment.

When Travis spent his entire panel talking about how in love J2 are, he got pulled out of the next con.

For Jared's honeymoon, he went on a group trek up Machu Pichu and slept in a tent, and for Jensen's honeymoon, Danneel's brother Gino went with them. Both were delayed honeymoons.

Jared wore Jensen's underwear.

The crux of Jared's first impression of Jensen [from a recent afternoon panel]:

'He and I had so much in common. It didn't feel like a blind date.'

I don't tinhat, but I don't blame the J2 tinhat. The Cockles tinhats don't seem to have compelling info, and they take the hatting to the stars. That is not cool.

As far as the gag reel goes, smacking someone in the crotch area is not a sign of affection. It is horseplay. Its pranking. Jared fondles Misha in the crotch area. Misha barreled into Richard, landing on top of him. Its not a big deal, and its certainly not sound evidence of anything other than boys being boys. Enjoy your hatting, but leave the actors alone and don't go out of your way to pull people into your circle. But the J2 tinhats don't do that? As far as I know.

Forgive all typos. Insomnia sucks!

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supersizemeplz · 6 years ago

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The Ultimate Treat

Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic one shot. A continuation of this post. Enjoy!

Street light lined the black suburb styled neighborhood, lighting the path for the young children running around in their costumes. Variations of ghosts, ghouls, historic figures, and monsters roamed the streets with their parents. Armani and Kavari walked a bit ahead of you, excited about getting some candy. Your arms were wrapped around one of Erik's, massaging his skin with your thumb.

"Mama can we go to this one?" Armani stopped, the fabric of her Egyptian princess outfit swaying in the light breeze. You were glad you'd made her put leggings on beneath it. You matched matched her costume since she'd begged you to be a queen. You nodded and they raced to the door, ringing the doorbell twice.

"You look really good, princess.." Erik licked his lips, admiring the cleavage that peeked from the top of your flowy dress. "Or should I call you my queen?" You rolled your eyes with a smile.

"I like the sound of queen better when you say it.. Makes me feel in charge." You laughed, adjusting your tall crown for extra effect. He laughed as he kissed your hand, stopping to pull you against him. Chest to Breasts.

He pecked you matte colored lips, chuckling. "I have no problem with that.." His forehead rested against yours. "Use me however you desire, my queen.."

The clearing of two throats stopped your intense eye undressing. "Erik can you come with us? Armani is scared to walk up to the Anderson's house.." Kavari sounded a bit annoyed, but he continued to hold his younger sister's hand. Protective and comforting.

"There's a clown on the porch.." Her voice was small as she looked up to Erik, slowly letting go of her brother's hand. Armani was terrified of clowns ever since she'd watched IT. You both glanced over to see the life sized terrifying clown, it creeped you out a bit too. Her big eyes looked glossy, sparkling the reflection of the street light you all were under. Erik released your hand to bend down to her height. He grinned as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"Don't cry, baby girl. He can't do anything to you, especially while me and Kavari are here. I'll be your knight in shining armor to protect you.." He held her hand. "How does that sound?" She nodded at that, letting Jabari told her other hand. You smiled at the trio as they headed to the door. Erik separated Armani and the lifeless clown prop. He'd make such a good dad.

A great dad.. Your kids could have a male figure in their life. Kavari could have a role model. They adored Erik, from the first time they met him. Armani had told you many times that she liked how Erik always made you laugh, saying 'Grandma says your man should have a good sense of humor so you'll be more relaxed'. That had made you chuckle.. Kavari confessed his liking for Erik as well, you'd remembered his hoping that Erik stayed around. And you hoped that too because he seemed like the one.

"You ready to head back to your place, babe?" Erik's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, nodding as you looked down at your babies. They talked to each other about which candies they'd trade. "You good?" Erik grabbed your hand as you all began the journey back to your house.

Looking at him for the hundredth time tonight, you took in his full lips and brown eyes. His dimples deepened as he gave a goofy grin. "I've never been better.." You kissed his cheek, laughing when the kids 'oooh la la'd at the affection.

The clock was going on 9:30 as Erik locked the door behind him. You slipped off your crown and sighed. "Ok, y'all. Three pieces of candy then it's a bath before you go to bed. You have school tomorrow.."

They groaned at the reminder to school the next morning. You laughed as they sat their full buckets of candy on the table. They chose three pieces as they were told before heading for the stairs. "We'll be up to say goodnight when your done." You looked in the direction they left before hearing a unified yes ma'am.

Slipping off the sandals you wore, you could feel Erik's eyes on you. He rested in a chair, licking his lips as he watched you. That fuzzy feeling fell over you again. "May I help you, sir?" You grinned, taking off the bracelets and choker you'd worn.

"C'mere.." He motioned you to him with a single finger. You fought to stop your smile from widening as you made your way to him. Your dress dragged against the floor with your steps, like a wedding gown on a bride.

"Yes?" Your raised an eyebrow, allowing him to take your hand in his. He pressed a kiss against your knuckles before trailing them up your arm. A giggle slipped from you as you sat on his lap, feeling the kisses end at the back of your shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist as he took in the addictive scent of your hair.

"You know I love you, right?" He announced out of nowhere. You chuckled, nodding. He'd told you before.

"I am very aware since you tell me all the time.." You kissed his lips, massaging your nails against his scalp at the nape of his neck. "I love you too, baby." He fought a grin of his own as he looked up at you. Your thumb massaged his cheek as your held his face in your hands.

A shaky sigh left his lips as he stared at you. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Why was he nervous? What was he about to tell you? You furrowed your eyebrows with a concerned smile. "What is it, Erik? Is everything ok?" You watched as he ran a hand through his tamed dreads.

He lifted your from his lap, "Yeah, uh, everything's fine baby... It's just.." You watched him glance at your before taking a deep breath. He was scaring you.

"Erik..." You took a step towards him, voice soft.

"I was trying to figure out what I could do, you know. I mean.." His voice shook a bit, barely noticeable. You're heartbeat had to be loud as hell right now. "There's so many ways this could go. And I thought about how the kids would feel. I've thought about where I could do this. And the best time to do it.. but" He finally stopped his shuttle pacing. "This moment is better than any other.." A grin parted his lips before he dropped to one knee.

"Princess, I know this isn't the fanciest setting but I'll make it up to you..." He held out the velvet ring box. Your phone hit the floor as you stared at him in a daze, tears threatening to spill. A hushed Erik left your trembling lips. "That is.. if you'd be my queen forever.."

"Say yes, mama!" Armani appeared from around the corner, grinning widely at the scene before her. Kavari stood behind her, holding smile of his own as he watched you. You looked back to Erik's nervous smile before grinning.

Nodding as tears fell from your eyes, ruining your makeup that you'd worked hard on. He slipped the ring onto your finger and you admired the large diamond. You felt like a princess in a fairytale. "Yes, Erik. I'll be your queen.."

_______________________

Taglist: @sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @elaindeereads @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @unholyxcumbucket @purple-apricots @marvelpotterlove @madamslayyy @onyxvixen-writer @chaneajoyyy @disneysdarlingdiva @wakanda-inspired @justanotherloveaffair @cmonkillmonger @slimmiyagi @princesskillmonger @theblulife @airis-paris14 @romanceoftheeveryday @fonville-designs

#black panther #erik stevens #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik x reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #black reader #oneshot

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karenhikari · 7 years ago

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A Vouch Sealed With Blood

Summary:

"I will get you out of here," Jay whispered, a murmur worth more than Jafar's ambitioned treasures. "I don't care at what cost, but I will get you out of here." And he would, giving up his life if it became necessary, at the price of a soul that wasn't even his anymore, even if it was the last thing he did. He would get Carlos out. It was a vouch sealed with his own blood.

Alright! This is terribly overdue, but here I am!

Last month, on August 23, it was my sister's birthday, and for the third year in a row I decided to give her a fanfic as her present, but this is the first time I wrote her a story in English, so this little something is very especial for me. Furthermore, during the last two years I wrote Solangelo stories, from the Percy Jackson fandom, and this was the first time I wrote her a Jaylos story.

The last thing I want to say before leaving you to read is that I owe a huge thank you to geminalupus, who was kind enough to beta read (and fix a whole lot of) this story!

So... this turned darker than I had originally planned it ti, but... I still hope you enjoy it!

A Vouch Sealed With Blood

Of all the things Jay had learned in the Isle, probably the most important one, the one that had been carved into his mind and skin from his birth was that he shouldn't need anyone, and should be fond of the same number of people.

There's no team in I, like his father would say.

Jay smirked. It was easier, he had to hand that to his father—it kept things simple, manageable. If you didn't have to worry about someone else's well-being you had more time to focus on yourself.

It was cheaper and it saved trouble as well, and it kept things balanced. Furthermore, this was how things worked in the Isle of the Lost, different variations of There's no team in I carved into everyone's mind, and that train of thought, more often than not, lead to disagreements and conflicts.

Truth be told, Jay didn't get into fights because he was argumentative. Not most of the time, anyway, but because he had a reputation to keep. In the Isle, that meant that he had to begin skirmishes, to fight back and never run away, to never step back when someone threatened him, to never let anyone insult him without an answer.

Still, Jay had to admit something, even if just to himself—he didn't like it.

He was good, that was for sure. He had strong muscles, lighting quick reflexes and calloused hands, hardened by delivering punches, yet light as a feather when he used them for the family trade.

Even then, there was something about washing the blood of a broken nose from his hands that Jay didn't necessarily… enjoy, even for the Isle's standards.

He did, however, recognize the importance of ratifying his worth and place, which meant that he had to break some noses to be left alone.

It was a cycle, like everything else—the first few weeks after he'd won a fight, his fellow islanders would be too terrified of him to even look his way for long. Afterwards, once his opponent's wounds started to heal, the memory was washed away, and one or two daring punks would go to him and challenge him, sometimes even trying to take him by surprise and ambush him.

It never worked.

If he tried very hard Jay could understand the appeal of it—if, by chance, one of those idiots had won against him, they would have become the strongest of the Isle, the most skilled in the noble art of fighting.

As if, Jay chuckled.

Once and only once had he been defeated, and it hadn't been by one of those idiots�� far from it.

Mal, the daughter of Maleficent, had proven she was more competent than him. Perhaps not as strong, no stronger at least, but she was certainly more cunning. She had an intimidating gaze and made decisions rapidly. She was unfazed by danger.

Jay, who, unlike the idiots that tried to fight him, was smart enough to recognize that someone who bested him was better off as an ally than as an enemy. After their first fight, Jay had promptly stopped competing against Mal, offering the daughter of Maleficent a chance to steal with him. Every once in a while, just to prove to her that he felt no animosity towards her, Jay would participate in a friendly stealing contest. Mal won most of times, but it was still something he... took a pleasure in, for lack of a better way to put it.

The second best fighter of the Isle after Jay —which made her the third on the Isle— was Harriet Hook. The pseudo-pirate was fine, Jay had decided long in the past, mostly because she had enough problems of her own to mind and left him to his own devices, which in return made her a good acquaintance.

Once every two weeks or so, Jay would schedule a friendly fencing combat against Harriet, just to establish to everyone else where they still stood.

Other than that, Jay supposed that Mal didn't have to worry about idiots coming to challenge her, because they always tried to get a step up by beating Jay first. Lucky bitch she was.

—*—*—

The first time Jay saw him, it was an accident.

Now, of course he'd heard about Carlos de Vil, the son of the Dalmatian thief, but this was the Isle of the Lost, and Jay was only interested in rubbing shoulders with the people who presented a threat to him, people like Mal or Harriet, while Carlos de Vil was just... riff-raff, a runt who wasn't strong enough to look after himself, much less pose a threat.

However, it was hard to ignore someone who pushed you out of their way.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" he called after Carlos, though it was mostly to let the other boy know that he wouldn't take the offense lightly.

Carlos, instead of answering to the challenge, refused to let the Jay's words intimidate him and didn't even turn around to acknowledge his presence.

Soon, the son of Jafar found out why—a few seconds after Carlos had crossed the alley, a second person, much slower and out of breath than the son of Cruella, appeared. He wore an apron that was stained with both blood and flour, so Jay wasn't very sure about his profession.

What Jay knew with certainty, though, was that the man in front of him was furious.

"Stupid thief, I'll catch you! And when I do, you'll regret ever having stolen from me!" the man roared, taking off his cap and throwing it to the ground. In doing so, Jay recognized the old baker, husband of Anastasia Tremaine.

Really, he thought, all this boy had stolen was bread, Jay questioned, giving a huff to his cigarette. Bread, out of all things? Jay couldn't have cared less, and in the Isle of the Lost everyone was free to take whatever they wanted, but... bread seemed like something too simple at such risk of getting caught.

To be honest, Jay didn't praise himself in being a busybody. For the most part, he limited himself to mind his own business and that was it.

However, the son of Jafar was curious, and there was something so odd in the scene that had just unfolded in front of him that he couldn't help being... interested by it.

He decided to follow the boy, as only a few seconds had passed and Carlos must have been close still.

It turned out that the son of Cruella was faster on his feet that Jay had originally thought he'd be, and for a moment Jay thought he'd lost him, before he caught glimpse of the washed out red of Carlos' vest.

It was definitely a bad idea to wear such an attractive color when you supposedly wanted to go unnoticed, Jay huffed. Stupid boy.

"Hey, street rat, where do you think you're going?" he yelled, not expecting Carlos to actually stop dead in his tracks, the loaf of bread escaping from his trembling fingers as he stepped back, trying to become one with the wall of the dead-end alley.

It looks like someone's 'fight-or-flight' instincts aren't working very well, Jay concluded as, yet again, those two words flocked to his mind with the purpose of describing the son of Cruella: stupid boy.

"You're fast," Jay said, giving a huff to his cigarette butt, his words not a compliment but a mere statement.

"You're not… you're not him…" Carlos let out, his eyes having barely been raised up to inspect his interlocutor before they were focused on the filthy ground once again.

"Him? The one you just stole from?" Jay laughed loudly, taking a step closer, chortling even harder when he saw a tremor run over Carlos figure. "This?" the son of Jafar inquired, tossing the bread away with the tip of his boots. "Oh, you're free to steal whatever fills your eye, you know? If you like it, take it!"

"What do you want?" the younger boy inquired, pressing himself harder into the wall, until the sharp ends of the bricks dug into his back.

"Oh, why must it always be about 'wanting' something?" Jay laughed. "Where's the fun in that? If I want something, I take it, no need to ask for anything or 'want' it for long," he continued to explain as he put his cigarette out on the wall acting as Carlos' pitiful attempt of a shelter. Instead of fighting against him, instead of fleeing, all Carlos did was set his jaw tighter, eyes forcefully closed. "In that case, Carlos, why don't you tell me what you want?"

As all answer, the son of Cruella let out something akin to a whimper, his hands clenched into small fists which, even if he had decided to use against Jay, wouldn't have represented a real threat.

"C'mon, Carlos, you started this awkward conversation, why don't you tell me what you desire the most?"

"I don't… there's nothing that I want," Carlos stuttered in a puff of shaky air and hollow breathing.

"Is that so?" the son of Jafar inquired, leaning closer as he tossed the spent cigarette away, the sudden movement forcing a shiver down Carlos' body.

Another pseudo-snivel left his dry lips, but, Jay noticed, for the first time, Carlos had actually done something to step aside from him, small as the movement was.

"Listen, wishing for something is alright… so long as you don't think your wishes will come true," the son of Jafar continued, his voice not as harsh, not as loud as it had been until then. "You know, you could be better than this, Carlos," he purred, raising his left hand to gently tuck one of Carlos' disheveled locks behind his ear, chuckling at the younger boy's incremented tremors.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carlos said, attempting to step back even though there was nowhere else to go.

"You know, Carlos?" he continued, his velvety voice curving into Carlos' ears. "You're fast, very fast. I saw how you got away with that bread, huh? But… if you tried harder, I think you could be so much more, you know, steal better, more… substantial things, wouldn't you… want that?"

"I didn't really get away with it, did I?" Carlos let out. "I mean, you… you're so much better than me… or… or everyone."

"Um… you think?" Jay said in an undertone, his long lashes fluttering close enough to caress the beginning of his cheeks, even though Carlos refused to raise his eyes from the floor to actually appreciate it. "I think you could be so much more, Carlos."

Instead, of answering, the son of Cruella only denied with his head, forcefully, his eyes shut as his teeth dug into his lower lip.

It was interesting, Jay decided with a contemptuous snicker, how Carlos shivered whenever Jay called him by his name, the fakest, faintest trace of fondness rolling off the son of Jafar's tongue.

"If you want it, Carlos, I could help you become that," Jay murmured, leaning closer. "I could always use someone as fast on their feet as you."

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, street rat, if you ever want to find out… you know where to find me," he continued, purposely bending closer to Carlos, and when he noticed that the boy neither tried to squirm away nor whimpered, he decided to continue his little experiment, fully leaning down until his lips were touching Carlos' in a violent contact, his tongue thrusting into Carlos' parted lips before the younger boy had time to yelp in surprise.

There was nothing syrupy about the collision, nothing soft or comforting in the touch—there were edges and Carlos' clumsy movements that alternatively tried to get away and respond to the gesture. Above everything, there was need.

"Ha! We'll see, Carlos, we'll see," Jay let out throatily, restless, when he finally pulled away, having decided to go a step further and bite Carlos' lower lip—gently, the most considerate caress he'd given someone.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Carlos panting, shaking and more confused than he would have been if Jay had only beaten him senseless.

Jay hadn't taken a single one of his belongings.

—*—*—

It was a few weeks later when Jay finally heard of Carlos again.

Truth be told, the son of Jafar hadn't been actively keeping an eye the other boy, but the Isle of the Lost was a small place, and rumors traveled fast. He knew what the son of Cruella was up to, he was aware that he had been stealing from small booths at the bazaar, with a tiny bit of luck sometimes, with empty hands most of them.

He knew Carlos would eventually need him. He was the greatest thief in the Isle, only bested by Mal, if that even counted, as they ended up in a tie most of times.

In all honesty, Jay wasn't sure why the flimsy son of Cruella de Vil had caused such a strong impression on him. It was odd, very odd that he had gone as far as to offer an alliance with him when Carlos was so glaringly nothing more than a weakling, a silly runt that was no better —and no worse— when compared to the countless other children in the Isle who swiped food instead of jewels.

He supposed —he wanted to suppose— that the reason behind his heedless actions was that Carlos was in fact fast on his feet. He wasn't a prodigy, of course he wasn't, but his obvious weakness and the self-evident need of attention that boy gave away was enough to convince Jay that, despite his lack of strength —perhaps even due to it—, Carlos would also be incapable of betraying him, which was also a good thing to take into account when it came to the inhabitants of the Isle of the Lost.

What was true, though, was that flirting had always gotten him what he wanted, therefore, that was what he'd done. And, just like when one of the evil step-granddaughters' bracelets caught his attention, Jay had fluttered his eyelashes and shot a disarming smile in his target's direction.

—*—*—

When Carlos finally showed at Jafar's disregarded shop, Jay was sure to welcome the young boy with a lopsided smirk and a glimmer in his eyes that could have competed against one of Jafar's coveted rubies.

Carlos, once again, kept his eyes glued to the floor, fists clenched and arms holding tightly to himself.

"My, my, I see you're back," Jay laughed, pulling the son of Cruella closer so he could both close the door and throw his arms around Carlos' figure, chuckling when the other boy's shaky breath reached his neck.

"What you... what you said… about… about helping me," Carlos tried.

"Yeah? What about it?" the son of Jafar purred into Carlos' ears.

"Can you… can you help me?"

"Well, that depends," Jay said in an undertone, raising his right hand to caress Carlos' cheekbone. "What do you want?"

"You said you could… you said you could teach me… help me…"

"And I can, but you have to tell me what you want, don't you? And you have to tell me what I'll get in return, right, Carlos?"

"I'll give you… I'll give you anything I have… anything, please,"

"Anything, huh? You're reckless too, I like that," Jay continued. "You see, I want to work with you, form an alliance."

"Why would you do that? I'm not… strong like the Gastons or intimidating like Ginny or…"

"But you're fast and you're reckless, I thought we'd covered that already," the son of Jafar replied in a velvety voice. "The Gastons don't have half a brain between the two of them and Ginny is a little viper."

"I still don't see-"

"I don't need you to fight against anyone, Carlos, don't you see? I can do that by myself," he cut the son of Cruella rather abruptly. "I saw how you got away with that bread. You're light on your feet and have a quick mind, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"But me saying it is enough, Carlos," Jay brushed off. "I need you to distract the vendors, only that. I'll do all the dirty work, I think it sounds pretty good, doesn't it?"

Before Carlos had time to answer, Jay leaned down, his dry lips meeting Carlos' in a tempestuous touch.

—*—*—

After that, their collaboration began.

At least once a week they'd go down to the bazaar, never together, no, but always with a plan under their sleeves. Fidgeting, Carlos would call a vendor's attention to himself while Jay filled his pockets with rotten fruit, sparkling ringlets and, often times, disregarded lamps.

At Jay's signal, Carlos would flee, taking the salesperson behind him, ignorant to the fact that the real thief was still in his booth. Later on, Carlos would meet Jay in Jafar's shop, where they would divide the plunder. Certainly, Carlos was not receiving half of the loot, sometimes not even a quarter of it, but the son of Cruella didn't seem to mind, as three apples was much more than he'd ever had to call his own.

There was something else, Jay supposed, a more vigorous, more vehement reason that kept pulling Carlos closer to him. Perhaps it was the simplicity of not having a real reason to stand by each other, perhaps it was the fact that Carlos had decided to cling on to a warm touch that, despite its fierceness, did not hurt for as long he could.

For Jay it was simply a deal, an alliance between acquaintances that was common in the Isle. You could always use someone else to your advantage and betray their trust later, after all.

What wasn't common among mere 'acquaintances', however, was the fact that he allowed Carlos to stay at his father's shop on the nights Cruella was too drunk to stand on her feet.

Perhaps it was something else, a voice kept whispering into Jay's mind. Perhaps it was the relieved sigh that escaped his lips whenever he found someone in his way that wasn't there to challenge him. Perhaps it was the appeal of not having to pull off an act in front of someone, of being able to relax his muscles and lean into someone else's warmth.

—*—*—

It was two months into the arrangement when something went wrong.

Looking back, Jay couldn't point out what had caused their collapse, he couldn't think of how things had gotten out of hand.

To be honest, the word 'failure' did not exist in Jay's vocabulary, thus he had no way of expecting things to ever go wrong when he was in charge.

Although, to be fair this was the Isle of the Lost, nothing ever changed for the best, oh no, things here, bad already, could only ever worsen.

—*—*—

Usually, after a robbery, Jay would return to his father's shop to find Carlos anxiously waiting for him, his melting-into-the-wall habit still too present for Jay's liking.

That day, Carlos wasn't there.

This time, it was Jay who apprehensively waited, resting against the crumbling door of the shop.

He stood by the shop's godforsaken door for ten minutes, his breathing becoming harder with every passing second, an uneasy feeling to his stomach, agitation making his hands shake in restlessness.

It was when he was just barely holding himself back from throwing a punch strong enough to bust a hole into the weakened concrete that he decided he couldn't take it anymore and strode right back to the bazaar.

Now, the Isle of the Lost was never quiet, not by any means. Be it a quarrel, crashing, a full-blown fight, crazed vendors trying to sell something or just simple, domestic noises, there was always something not quite peaceful in the place.

What was out of place, Jay realized, was the laughter, the fits of clapping and the expectant silence that welcomed him when he entered to the agora. At the time, Jay had to admit that he didn't notice the taunting gazes shot his way or that, for once, the multitude around him actually stood aside and allowed him to pass through them instead of him having to push and elbow his way into them.

What he did notice, however, was a flimsy, powerless snivel that he knew all too well.

"Carlos!" he called, his head whipping around in an attempt to recognize the origin of noise, which became even harder when another roar of laughter erupted around him. "Carlos!"

After that, things happened too fast for Jay to remember them clearly.

He knew his frustration had become so unbearable once he realized that he was unable to get Carlos back that he had simply… flamed up. He was aware that he'd turned around, hooking the first unfortunate idiot he'd found with an iron fist before smashing his head against the boxes of rotten vegetables from a fruit store.

"I won't ask again," Jay calmly said, not even bothering to turn to see if the poor fool had risen to his feet again.

Finally, as if suddenly pulled by magic the mob in front of him parted, the screams not silenced, even when Jay was incapable of hearing them, stone eyes following the suddenly empty expansion ahead of him.

That was when he saw him—in front of the old bakery, the place where he'd seen Carlos for the first time, Trystram, Anastasia's husband, standing proudly, one of his filthy boots planted on Carlos' unconscious chest.

"What are you sayin' now, stupid thief? Did I not warn you not to mess with me, you idiot?" he chortled, delivering a kick to Carlos' side, which made the boy's body roll until he was facing Jay, which allowed the son of Jafar to flash on the depth of Carlos' wound, his face covered in the blood that was profusely coming out from a cut across his forehead.

Jay's fingers ached with the need to return the favor.

Trystam didn't seem to have noticed Jay's presence. Good.

For a split second, the son of Jafar allowed himself fear, intimidated by the fire that had ignited in the pit of his stomach. He had fought before, certainly, he had inflected pain on others, heard bones crack under his fingers. Yes, he had maimed before and he had washed the blood off his hands with no second thoughts before, but this was different.

For the first time, his fists twitched with the need to beat that jerk's smirk out of his face. For the first time he wanted to cause pain, to disfigure, to dismember. He absently wondered if this was what his father felt whenever he thought of Aladdin, this burning need of revenge, this contempt so humongous that it was not even loathing.

His first blow, quick and skilled, was for Trystam's nose, the blood, almost black under the deficient light, running soon enough. The old baker didn't even have time to yelp before Jay struck again, unfeeling to the numb ache of the skin peeling off his knuckles

Yes, Jay had fought in the past, but never had the son of Jafar entered the battlefield in an attempt to defend a third person.

—*—*—

It was after that incident that Jay fully realized how far things had gone, surpassing the barrier of the Isle, uncaring to Cruella's cawings and Jafar's drunken threats.

Subsequent to the… incident Jay had refused to let Carlos accompany him to the bazaar, even when all left as witness of the event was a faint scar and the limp on his right leg that never really went away. No, he wouldn't say it out-loud, not even to Carlos himself, but he would have to be as crazy as Madame Mim to risk Carlos like that again.

The son of Cruella, bless his heart, refused to believe that it had been Jay's fault. "It's alright as long as I'm with you. It's alright," that was what he'd let out in a pained voice the day after the incident, when he'd finally come to his senses, but Jay knew better—he was to blame, his egotism and his stupid greed was what had hurt Carlos to the point of nearly killing him.

He'd known Carlos was not a fighter, it was clear as the barrier that impeded them from ever escaping the Isle, so painfully obvious that Jay… Jay just knew it was his fault.

It had taken months before Carlos could actually walk again, and even then sometimes he needed to lean on Jay a little. The son of Jafar didn't mind, as this was the least he could do for him.

—*—*—

It was a week after the incident when it happened.

Jay was tending to Carlos' wounds as best as he could, trying to make the bandages tight enough to force the wounds to sew themselves together again. He had contacted Evie, the daughter of the Evil Queen and one of Mal's allies the day before. It was rumored she was a good healer, having gone a long way from her mother's magic to use the feeble plants that grew in the Isle as curing methods.

Ointment or not, Jay did not see any improvement in his… friend's condition.

"Sta… stay," Carlos managed, one of the few nonsense things he'd muttered in the last few febrile days.

"What?"

"Don't… don't leave. Don't leave me…"

Grimacing, Jay sat down again, careful when he raised his right hand to caress Carlos' bruised cheek.

Numbly, Jay leaned down to press his lips against Carlos', tenderly for the first time, mindful of were he put his hands, thoughtful not to hurt him.

There were no teeth, no tongue either, but rather, a butterfly-like caress, the soft contact they'd been denied for so long, the comforting feeling of a well-known touch.

"I will get you out of here," Jay whispered into Carlos' ear when they finally broke apart, a murmur that was worth more than his father's ambitioned treasures. "I don't care at what cost, but I will get you out of here."

And he would, giving up his life if it became necessary, at the price of a soul that wasn't even his anymore, even if it was the last thing he did.

He would get Carlos out. It was a pledge, an oath, a vouch sealed with his own blood.

And... this was it.

Please let me know what you think about it, because I'm ridiculously fond of it, even when it turned out so different from the usual fluffy stories I'd write for these two.

Also, if you liked the way geminalupus and I work together, please consider checking out our other story, "The Ones Who Wander," where you will be able to read more Jaylos.

This is it for now, thanks for reading and... read you soon!

#Descendants #Disney Descendants #Descendants 2015 #Jaylos #Jay #Carlos de Vil #Drama #Romance #Angst #Abuse

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