DVD Commentary -- the Kali series
Title: Want may press thee down
I still adore this title with a mad and passionate love.
Summary: It's dangerous to catch the attention of Lady Shiva's protégé.
And this *summary* still brings me joy. Because it does several things: one, that summary sets up the AU. Two, it sets up the *point* of Tim Is A Scary Kid. Three, it makes Really Clear that this won't be a happy sweet fluffy AU.
Author's Notes: ... I talked to Marcelo and Chevauchee. Look, we know how it ends when something like that happens. Scariness below the cut, of the AU Timmish variety. Rated PG-18.
Content some readers may find disturbing.
For sockich, who is having a lousy week.
I don't remember what precisely was going on with La Sock at the time, but I do remember that she got cheered up. Which was yay.
I also know that Marcelo and Chevauchee are *totally* to blame.
He has been trained to respect artistry. Movement. Beauty, in some senses of the word.
Lady Shiva? *Also* an artist.
He had not thought to find something worthy of awe in a circus, even in an act as famed as the world-renowned Flying Graysons.
He vaguely remembers that they had been scheduled to appear in Gotham a few years before Tim had begun his research on assassins.
La la la, setting up timeline and alternate events, la la la...
The twist between trapezes is one Tim could not perform. Even Shiva herself would have difficulty with several of the moves this Dick Grayson makes look effortless as breathing, as the nervestrikes Tim could do in his sleep. He very nearly forgets to keep an eye on the target, staring up into the air at the moving, laughing man.
Tim has always admired skill.
Tim? Is *distracted*. Tim has *lost focus*.
Tim is thinking Thoughts.
Tim kills the target as they're leaving after the show, and he dreams of Dick Grayson's eyes and smile and laugh and strong, lithe body for the next week.
***
The second time in three months he almost fails a contract, Shiva breaks both his legs and demands an explanation. When he gives one, almost managing not to stutter on the words 'wet dream,' she blinks. And laughs.
Man, if I had to tell Lady Shiva that I was messing up because I wanted to have sex with a guy I'd seen *once*, I would probably go off and commit hara-kiri.
"The security is poor on that circus. What have I taught you, Kali?"
If it were anyone else, Tim would object to that name more strenuously. Lady Shiva has made him everything he is and has the right to refer to him by any name she chooses. "If I want something, take it. If I don't, don't. If I can't, deal with that failure, or alter the situation so that I can."
It still bugs him that he gets called by a goddess' name. He'd much rather be Shakti.
I have yet to decide if Shiva and Kali have ever had sex. I know she had him taught about sex, and he's not a virgin.
His *first* wet dream? Shiva.
"You have earned a gift, Tim."
He blinks. She smiles.
Tim Sez: I... what?
"When your legs heal, take your circus boy." The look in her eyes is a clear dismissal.
Tim nods. "Thank you." As she is walking away, he calls after her, "I will not be so distracted on a contract again."
She pauses. "Of course. You are my apprentice."
And also because Shiva would kill him. Which she didn't need to say.
***
The breaks heal cleanly, of course. Tim is impatient enough that he almost fidgets before Shiva agrees that he is healed enough to go and permits him to leave. He heads immediately for Haly's Circus, performing this month in Vienna.
He had spent his recuperation planning his entrance, mode of attack, and exit. Their security is terrible.
It takes two minutes to find Dick Grayson, walking carelessly near the tiger cages. Tim smiles, watches him smile back, and knocks him out with a strike to his jaw. The fracture is minimal and will not damage his face greatly.
"Tiger cages" is because I am a sad, sad person and have to insert Slade *everywhere*. Ny wrote a trilogy once about conciliating the tiger.
*draws hearts on Ny*
If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have had Tim use a nervestrike to the cluster of nerves at the juncture of neck and shoulder. But I didn't know that existed, so instead Tim is using the strike Cass has been known to use on Steph.
He is heavy, of course. Fortunately, no one is nearby to see Tim half-dragging the body to his car, or buckling an unconscious man into the passenger seat.
Tim keeps one hand on a warm, muscled thigh throughout the drive back to rendezvous.
Tim is still thinking Thoughts. Tim is *hungry*.
***
Nudity suits Dick Grayson far better than the gaudy outfits he had worn for the circus. Tim spends far too long simply looking at him, trying to keep his breathing even.
His legs are long and slightly hairy. His abdomen is firm and muscled. His thighs are scarred. His groin… Tim licks his dry lips and continues to observe. His wrists are powerful, and his shoulders are broad. His chest is well-formed, and Tim wants to bite his nipples.
This is where I hit y'all over the *head* with Tim's hunger.
He is beautiful.
And fearless, and effusive, and full of grace...
The cuffs click on satisfyingly quietly, as does the collar. Tim sits by the edge of the bed and waits for his gift to wake up.
The 'collar and cuffs' was a note to Petra and Ny. Also to emphasize CREEPY, Y'ALL.
And, yes, okay, hot. In that creepy and wrong way.
-- Finis
Title: Tasted of desire
Mmmmm, Frost. Worlds ending in flame and want, and behind that fire is ice.
Summary: There are always consequences.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Want may press thee down.
*hums the No, Really, Tim is in Love song*
She dodges the punch and breaks two ribs with her response, knocking the boy to the ground. Then she frowns. "That blow should have been blocked."
"My apologies, sensei." He rises gracefully, but does not slip into any defensive position.
It is not Kali's place to argue with Lady Shiva.
Neither does she attack. "You have not sparred with your usual attention in two weeks, Tim."
"Once again, my humble apologies. I have been… " His face remains even. "Distracted."
"Yes. Your circus boy."
And Shiva starts doubting.
No trace of a smile, but his mouth tightens and his shoulders tense slightly. "He is somewhat addictive."
Beautiful, and terrifying, and (now) terrifyingly *needed*.
One quick nod. "Could you kill him?"
There is no hesitation. "Yes."
What Tim isn't saying here is 'I watch him sleep and wonder what he dreams. I know the number of his eyelashes and the different tastes of his sweat. He is grace personified.
I could kill him. Please don't ask me to.'
"You would make it swift. Painless." It isn't a question.
"If possible. Are you testing me, Lady Shiva?"
Tim is.... very desperate, and Shiva knows it. But she also knows that Kali both could and would kill the circus boy at her request.
Which is why she isn't asking.
Now she smiles. "No. If I thought that necessary, you would be fighting me for your life."
He bows first and leaves the room silently, moving to watch his pet.
I still don't like using pet here. I just couldn't think of any better word.
-- Finis
Title: To know what conscience is
Love is too young to know what conscience is,
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,
But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her 'love,' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
Never let it be said that I am not a *dork*.
Mmm, Shakespeare's sonnets.
Summary: Tim is in love.
And all's fair.
Author's Notes: For nokomis305, who was talking to me about Kali-verse and got ficspammed.
Part of my Themed Week Of Ficlets: AU Dick/Tim. Except for how RL *hates me* and thus Week might not be exactly the right word.
*winces* I'm still feeling a tad guilty about not doing this Themed Week correctly, even though I had... rather a lot of things going on at the time.
But someday I will write the stories people suggested. I *swear*.
Tim knows this is, by any number of moralities, wrong.
Like... mine.
And yet.
He also knows, because one of the first things he ever learned was the necessity of knowing oneself, that he does not care. "All's fair in love and war" is a very common proverb for a reason.
The reason I chose the summary I did is that, once upon a time, Te wrote a story about Jason being resurrected with the summary "Bruce is in love, and all's fair."
That story -- and that summary -- proceeded to rewrite my brain. I have yet to get over that story.
Possibly this fact is why I also have yet to *reread* it.
And I couldn't simply quote that summary, for one thing because it would evoke too many things I *wasn't* saying here, about doomed love and devotion and history and sacrificing one beloved thing for another. But I could certainly reference.
If he strikes here at the bend of the knee, palm tense and fingers curved just enough, he will shatter the joint. If he kicks the hip with a surprising amount of laxness in his thigh, he will shatter that joint. Dick will never walk again.
Dick will never *leave*.
Tim reaches out and fingers a lock of his hair instead.
Dick? Still wearing a collar. And cuffs.
And, sometimes, *chains*.
Tim's had to work to make sure the constant friction didn't give him sores.
He wishes, with an abruptly shocking ferocity, that Dick would wake and smile at him.
Tim is also still very much in love. And trying very hard to deal.
He's failing like *whoa*.
Tim has not actively *attempted* to create Stockholm's Syndrome. He has merely glutted himself, sated a hunger he had never wanted and had not braced himself for.
That would be a lead-in to one of the ways this universe will go. I have two endings, both of which I believe with equal and terrified fervor.
The taste of Dick's sweat differs when he is afraid as opposed to when he is both afraid and aroused, or afraid and angry. Or all three. The precise quality of his voice changes if he is begging for freedom as opposed to trying not to beg for climax.
Tim, at heart, is still a creepy little stalker boy.
And that is as close to porn as I will get here, because the porn scares the *crap* out of me.
Tim has been too fascinated -- too *needy* -- to... to do all manner of things.
If he presses here with his thumb, he will cut off blood flow through the carotid artery. Dick will die in moments. He will not wake up.
Tim has thought of lots of ways he could kill Dick. If he had to.
Shiva knows that perfectly well.
It would be merciful. To let him go.
Kali has not been trained in mercy. Tim shifts to press his ear against the fragile ribcage and listens, closing his eyes, to the steady pound of Dick's heart.
Kali has *really* not been trained in mercy. (Tim's as trapped as Dick is.)
"Fragile" was to emphasize just how easily Tim could kill Dick. Tim's been training with Shiva for, oh, about a decade. Dick has acrobatic skills out the wazoo and basic fighting skills for dealing with townies who decide to get rowdy.
It's nothing even close to enough.
-- Finis
I still adore this title with a mad and passionate love.
Summary: It's dangerous to catch the attention of Lady Shiva's protégé.
And this *summary* still brings me joy. Because it does several things: one, that summary sets up the AU. Two, it sets up the *point* of Tim Is A Scary Kid. Three, it makes Really Clear that this won't be a happy sweet fluffy AU.
Author's Notes: ... I talked to Marcelo and Chevauchee. Look, we know how it ends when something like that happens. Scariness below the cut, of the AU Timmish variety. Rated PG-18.
Content some readers may find disturbing.
For sockich, who is having a lousy week.
I don't remember what precisely was going on with La Sock at the time, but I do remember that she got cheered up. Which was yay.
I also know that Marcelo and Chevauchee are *totally* to blame.
He has been trained to respect artistry. Movement. Beauty, in some senses of the word.
Lady Shiva? *Also* an artist.
He had not thought to find something worthy of awe in a circus, even in an act as famed as the world-renowned Flying Graysons.
He vaguely remembers that they had been scheduled to appear in Gotham a few years before Tim had begun his research on assassins.
La la la, setting up timeline and alternate events, la la la...
The twist between trapezes is one Tim could not perform. Even Shiva herself would have difficulty with several of the moves this Dick Grayson makes look effortless as breathing, as the nervestrikes Tim could do in his sleep. He very nearly forgets to keep an eye on the target, staring up into the air at the moving, laughing man.
Tim has always admired skill.
Tim? Is *distracted*. Tim has *lost focus*.
Tim is thinking Thoughts.
Tim kills the target as they're leaving after the show, and he dreams of Dick Grayson's eyes and smile and laugh and strong, lithe body for the next week.
***
The second time in three months he almost fails a contract, Shiva breaks both his legs and demands an explanation. When he gives one, almost managing not to stutter on the words 'wet dream,' she blinks. And laughs.
Man, if I had to tell Lady Shiva that I was messing up because I wanted to have sex with a guy I'd seen *once*, I would probably go off and commit hara-kiri.
"The security is poor on that circus. What have I taught you, Kali?"
If it were anyone else, Tim would object to that name more strenuously. Lady Shiva has made him everything he is and has the right to refer to him by any name she chooses. "If I want something, take it. If I don't, don't. If I can't, deal with that failure, or alter the situation so that I can."
It still bugs him that he gets called by a goddess' name. He'd much rather be Shakti.
I have yet to decide if Shiva and Kali have ever had sex. I know she had him taught about sex, and he's not a virgin.
His *first* wet dream? Shiva.
"You have earned a gift, Tim."
He blinks. She smiles.
Tim Sez: I... what?
"When your legs heal, take your circus boy." The look in her eyes is a clear dismissal.
Tim nods. "Thank you." As she is walking away, he calls after her, "I will not be so distracted on a contract again."
She pauses. "Of course. You are my apprentice."
And also because Shiva would kill him. Which she didn't need to say.
***
The breaks heal cleanly, of course. Tim is impatient enough that he almost fidgets before Shiva agrees that he is healed enough to go and permits him to leave. He heads immediately for Haly's Circus, performing this month in Vienna.
He had spent his recuperation planning his entrance, mode of attack, and exit. Their security is terrible.
It takes two minutes to find Dick Grayson, walking carelessly near the tiger cages. Tim smiles, watches him smile back, and knocks him out with a strike to his jaw. The fracture is minimal and will not damage his face greatly.
"Tiger cages" is because I am a sad, sad person and have to insert Slade *everywhere*. Ny wrote a trilogy once about conciliating the tiger.
*draws hearts on Ny*
If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have had Tim use a nervestrike to the cluster of nerves at the juncture of neck and shoulder. But I didn't know that existed, so instead Tim is using the strike Cass has been known to use on Steph.
He is heavy, of course. Fortunately, no one is nearby to see Tim half-dragging the body to his car, or buckling an unconscious man into the passenger seat.
Tim keeps one hand on a warm, muscled thigh throughout the drive back to rendezvous.
Tim is still thinking Thoughts. Tim is *hungry*.
***
Nudity suits Dick Grayson far better than the gaudy outfits he had worn for the circus. Tim spends far too long simply looking at him, trying to keep his breathing even.
His legs are long and slightly hairy. His abdomen is firm and muscled. His thighs are scarred. His groin… Tim licks his dry lips and continues to observe. His wrists are powerful, and his shoulders are broad. His chest is well-formed, and Tim wants to bite his nipples.
This is where I hit y'all over the *head* with Tim's hunger.
He is beautiful.
And fearless, and effusive, and full of grace...
The cuffs click on satisfyingly quietly, as does the collar. Tim sits by the edge of the bed and waits for his gift to wake up.
The 'collar and cuffs' was a note to Petra and Ny. Also to emphasize CREEPY, Y'ALL.
And, yes, okay, hot. In that creepy and wrong way.
-- Finis
Title: Tasted of desire
Mmmmm, Frost. Worlds ending in flame and want, and behind that fire is ice.
Summary: There are always consequences.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Want may press thee down.
*hums the No, Really, Tim is in Love song*
She dodges the punch and breaks two ribs with her response, knocking the boy to the ground. Then she frowns. "That blow should have been blocked."
"My apologies, sensei." He rises gracefully, but does not slip into any defensive position.
It is not Kali's place to argue with Lady Shiva.
Neither does she attack. "You have not sparred with your usual attention in two weeks, Tim."
"Once again, my humble apologies. I have been… " His face remains even. "Distracted."
"Yes. Your circus boy."
And Shiva starts doubting.
No trace of a smile, but his mouth tightens and his shoulders tense slightly. "He is somewhat addictive."
Beautiful, and terrifying, and (now) terrifyingly *needed*.
One quick nod. "Could you kill him?"
There is no hesitation. "Yes."
What Tim isn't saying here is 'I watch him sleep and wonder what he dreams. I know the number of his eyelashes and the different tastes of his sweat. He is grace personified.
I could kill him. Please don't ask me to.'
"You would make it swift. Painless." It isn't a question.
"If possible. Are you testing me, Lady Shiva?"
Tim is.... very desperate, and Shiva knows it. But she also knows that Kali both could and would kill the circus boy at her request.
Which is why she isn't asking.
Now she smiles. "No. If I thought that necessary, you would be fighting me for your life."
He bows first and leaves the room silently, moving to watch his pet.
I still don't like using pet here. I just couldn't think of any better word.
-- Finis
Title: To know what conscience is
Love is too young to know what conscience is,
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,
But rising at thy name doth point out thee,
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her 'love,' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
Never let it be said that I am not a *dork*.
Mmm, Shakespeare's sonnets.
Summary: Tim is in love.
And all's fair.
Author's Notes: For nokomis305, who was talking to me about Kali-verse and got ficspammed.
Part of my Themed Week Of Ficlets: AU Dick/Tim. Except for how RL *hates me* and thus Week might not be exactly the right word.
*winces* I'm still feeling a tad guilty about not doing this Themed Week correctly, even though I had... rather a lot of things going on at the time.
But someday I will write the stories people suggested. I *swear*.
Tim knows this is, by any number of moralities, wrong.
Like... mine.
And yet.
He also knows, because one of the first things he ever learned was the necessity of knowing oneself, that he does not care. "All's fair in love and war" is a very common proverb for a reason.
The reason I chose the summary I did is that, once upon a time, Te wrote a story about Jason being resurrected with the summary "Bruce is in love, and all's fair."
That story -- and that summary -- proceeded to rewrite my brain. I have yet to get over that story.
Possibly this fact is why I also have yet to *reread* it.
And I couldn't simply quote that summary, for one thing because it would evoke too many things I *wasn't* saying here, about doomed love and devotion and history and sacrificing one beloved thing for another. But I could certainly reference.
If he strikes here at the bend of the knee, palm tense and fingers curved just enough, he will shatter the joint. If he kicks the hip with a surprising amount of laxness in his thigh, he will shatter that joint. Dick will never walk again.
Dick will never *leave*.
Tim reaches out and fingers a lock of his hair instead.
Dick? Still wearing a collar. And cuffs.
And, sometimes, *chains*.
Tim's had to work to make sure the constant friction didn't give him sores.
He wishes, with an abruptly shocking ferocity, that Dick would wake and smile at him.
Tim is also still very much in love. And trying very hard to deal.
He's failing like *whoa*.
Tim has not actively *attempted* to create Stockholm's Syndrome. He has merely glutted himself, sated a hunger he had never wanted and had not braced himself for.
That would be a lead-in to one of the ways this universe will go. I have two endings, both of which I believe with equal and terrified fervor.
The taste of Dick's sweat differs when he is afraid as opposed to when he is both afraid and aroused, or afraid and angry. Or all three. The precise quality of his voice changes if he is begging for freedom as opposed to trying not to beg for climax.
Tim, at heart, is still a creepy little stalker boy.
And that is as close to porn as I will get here, because the porn scares the *crap* out of me.
Tim has been too fascinated -- too *needy* -- to... to do all manner of things.
If he presses here with his thumb, he will cut off blood flow through the carotid artery. Dick will die in moments. He will not wake up.
Tim has thought of lots of ways he could kill Dick. If he had to.
Shiva knows that perfectly well.
It would be merciful. To let him go.
Kali has not been trained in mercy. Tim shifts to press his ear against the fragile ribcage and listens, closing his eyes, to the steady pound of Dick's heart.
Kali has *really* not been trained in mercy. (Tim's as trapped as Dick is.)
"Fragile" was to emphasize just how easily Tim could kill Dick. Tim's been training with Shiva for, oh, about a decade. Dick has acrobatic skills out the wazoo and basic fighting skills for dealing with townies who decide to get rowdy.
It's nothing even close to enough.
-- Finis