bakerstreet | (no subject)

The HURT ME Meme
For kinks of pain: physical and emotional.

WARNING: Prompts will contain sexual and violent content and triggers. Click with caution!

THE PHYSICAL:
1 - Slapping. Bare-handed: including spanking, face-slapping.
2 - Flogging. With a leather flog, as soft or hard as you want.
3 - Breathplay. Cut off their oxygen.
4 - Beating (soft). Leaving bruises and marks.
5 - Waxplay. Feels like a burn, but isn't.
6 - Biting. Use your teeth.
7 - Gunplay. It might be the hurt, or the threat of it.
8 - Bloodplay (soft). Just a few cuts…
9 - Sexual exhaustion. Forcing them just a little too far, until it hurts more than it feels good.
10 - Suspension. Bind them so they can't (or can only barely) touch the ground, and wait for it to do its trick.
11 - Dubious consent. Don't know if they want it or not.
12 - OTHER.

THE EMOTIONAL:
1 - Loss. You've taken away something they care about deeply, perhaps destroyed it - or killed someone close to them.
2 - Rejection. All they want is you. Best to crush their feelings into the dust.
3 - Humiliation. Take away their pride.
4 - Punishment. They've done wrong. Time to let them know exactly how.
5 - Revenge. They've hurt you personally, and you want to hurt them back.
6 - Deception. Use the truth, or a lie, to make them hurt.
7 - OTHER.

THE HEAVY:
1 - Beating (hard). Draw blood, leave scars.
2 - Whipping. As hard as you want.
3 - Choking. The hard side of breathplay.
4 - Burning/Branding. Leave your marks.
5 - Fisting. The whole hand.
6 - Oversize Penetration. Double, triple, or just larger than they can take.
7 - Mutilation.
8 - Amputation.
9 - Vore.
10 - Guro.
11 - Non-con. They don't want it, but you'll force the issue.
12 - OTHER.

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"Yes," he rasps, even as he brings a hand up to try and pry the other's fingers away from his throat. "I do."

Perhaps he shouldn't -- he should save the beatings for Thor, but those words spark a hatred in him, a fire that burns ever hotter, that it's entirely too much to resist drawing back his other hand to land a merciless punch to Loki's face.

And then another for good measure, of course.

"You are not. You have never been nor will you ever be."

"Oh, look. Now you have become Laufey, have become Asgard, lashing out when Loki says something that you don't like."

His voice is a little distorted by blood and pain that he cannot hide from himself. Loki grins anyway, wide and nasty, and bloodstained.

Loki collects himself, chuckles even at those words. Did Loki think they would hurt?

"And what are you, younger-self? You are me. What I am lurks beneath your skin, waits for the day that you will simply give in." He smiles.

"You will, you know. One day, Thor will curse your name, all of Asgard will turn on you yet again... No amount of sacrifice that our child self made will be enough to redeem our name."

Loki snarls.

"I despise the very idea."

"You can despise it all you want... you can torture yourself, make yourself ache and cry. It still seems to be that it would be so much easier to embrace it, to love it." Because they wasted so very long on trying to change when there could have been so much chaos made in its stead.

"So that I might more quickly become you? No."

No, no, no, no, no.

"Or so that you may stop being miserable. Aren't you tired of it, little Loki? The fighting, the hopelessness..."

"For the first time in aeons, I'm not miserable," he counters. "And you would have me return to that endless, hopeless drudgery."

"Do I look miserable, little Loki?" He laughs. "I'm quite the opposite. I'm content in my role. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Yes, I see something has convinced you to be happy in the mould Asgard has poured you into," Loki snarls back.

"You seem to think you can hurt me with your insults, Loki... the most you can do is annoy me until I decide it would be preferable to break your jaw than listen to your self-righteous jabs." And oh, he is tempted, if only to see the twist of pain upon his face.

"I think I have hurt you," Loki counters. "That the Silvertongue resorts to fisticuffs like any common brawler rather than cutting with his words."

"Hurt isn't what I would call it." He tilts his head, looking over Loki. "But I did forget how insufferable I was as a child. How very foolish and arrogant..."

"So you see nothing in me but what the rest of Asgard sees in you."

"Do you deny the truth in it? Everyone knows what you are, Loki, and they accept it in ways you are unable to. They see the villain in you... only you swear there is anything resembling good in you."

"Not only me," Loki argues.

"Are you talking of Verity?" He tilts his head, smirking slightly. "She can't even begin to fathom all of what you've done, what you are."

"But she knows that. And she's still my friend."

For now.

"For how long, younger self? And what will you do when you lose her?"

He opens his mouth to answer--

--and finds he can't.

"You haven't thought that far ahead, have you? Even if you don't chase her away by being you, she is mortal and she will die. They always do, little Loki."

"That doesn't mean I cannot care while they still remain," Loki replies.

"Of course not... as much as you can care. And Verity is rather useful, isn't she? And so forgiving... admit it, you keep her around because you know you can use her again. Maybe a couple more times before she's finally tired of you. You can lie to yourself as much as you want, tell yourself you actually care, but we know the truth, don't we?"

Those words strike him to the core, making his stomach lurch with sudden doubt. He cares about Verity, about their friendship-- doesn't he? He has to. She's. Too important not to. She makes him feel light and happy, she likes his stories, she helps him, even though she should know better...

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