bakerstreet | (no subject)

(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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Mmm. [He grimaces, but refrains from further complaint, taking a few deep breaths to force himself to relax again. He's not sure, in point of fact, how the bones would react if they just broke the circle. Normally if a bone on his vessel snaps (a rare occurrence), setting it is a non-issue simply because of the speed it heals. Almost as if a mix of angelic Grace and human body memory pushes things back into their proper places.

This venture has left flesh and bone time to swell and become inflamed, though. They might very well heal crooked without this intervention, and he doesn't want to take that chance. Not when Loki's being so generous with caring for him.

He hisses and swears under his breath as the other bones are set, but manages to stay still.]

What you see isn't technically my body. [He explains slowly after Loki speaks.] It's a human vessel I inhabit. Taken with permission, and...regrettably, the soul that was once within it went on to the afterlife after Cas--

[He pauses, clears his throat. It's still a sore point and probably always will be.] After I was stabbed. I kept a sliver of my Grace hidden in another human's soul and was able to rebuild, but this still isn't completely me.

Angels can't walk about on this plane in our own bodies without searing the eyes out of humans, or even killing them, along with wildlife and plant species. Everything is so delicate. Or we're just clumsy, maybe.

What I am, here and now, is a weird blend of flesh and celestial energy. I can feel pain and pleasure through this body, but when my Grace isn't dampened like this, it's...less sensitive, I suppose. And I'm stronger.

So, I've been sliced and diced, had things broken and even blown to bits on the field at War, but compared to this it was more like an echo of pain coming down a long tunnel, with plenty of interference along the way. I didn't know.

I hope that doesn't sound insufferably smug to you. I don't mean it that way, and of course you're no more human, or mortal, than I am. But you're all here. Everything that happens here is high stakes. I knew that in an academic sense, but I never understood it before. Not from experience.

I'm sorry. [He tries to meet his eyes, still calm, but utterly sincere in the apology.] I truly did not understand the physical suffering you went through. And I...suppose I still don't, but I have a better inkling now.

[Loki sits back to listen to Balthazar's explanation. He has the dim sense that he probably knew some of this already. When you were one another's only company in the face of unholy torment, it was easy to plumb at least some previously sensitive topics of conversation. But it's still better, hearing it again, hearing it now. Here he can be certain that it's the entire truth, and that he's being trusted with this knowledge for reasons beyond carelessness.

He doesn't say it out loud, but Loki is privately relieved to hear that whatever soul previously occupied Balthazar's body is safely elsewhere. Even if he has no way to really confirm as much, it's a more pleasant reality.

Loki draws back a little, blinking in surprise at the apology, especially for how sincere it is. His first impulse is to brush it aside, entirely because he doesn't quite understand what Balthazar is apologizing for. So what if he doesn't "understand" pain? Honestly, Loki can certainly think of worse fates.

Yet it's clear that the apology means a great deal and costs a fair bit for Balthazar to give. And then Loki realizes that his feelings were previously being discounted, brushed aside - innocently, thoughtlessly, but discounted all the same. Even if Loki had ignored as much, Balthazar had apparently still realized it and considered it worth apology.

That...means a great deal, all of a sudden.

So he meets Balthazar's gaze levelly, and replies:] I accept your apology. [And even if the words sound stiff and somewhat formal in his mouth, Loki means them, too.

From there, he'll go to work setting the rest of Balthazar's fingers safely back into place. Maybe they would heal just fine after he broke hte circle, but maybe they wouldn't, and then he'd have to rebreak them in the first place.

Best to be safe.]

Thank you, love. [Balthazar thinks sometimes when Loki's words come out stilted and formal rather than with the usual silvery-sweetness, it's a sign. Emotion, sincerity, startlement. Maybe a little of all the above. At any rate, it's clear his own admission has been understood and accepted--icing on the cake of what they've accomplished tonight--so he smiles, and says no more.

He stays still even after all the bones are set, not sure what will happen if he tries to move, but judging that they've all been well repaired. That says something about Loki's experiences with this sort of thing, and Balthazar's not sure he wants to probe into that too closely. The idea of him having to perform these repairs on himself is painful, but likely.

Patiently, he waits for Loki to decide when to break the circle, bracing himself for the influx of power.] I may glow a bit, when you smudge the lines. You might not want to look too closely.

[Not that he anticipates enough of a rush of energy to actually hurt Loki, or even the surroundings (maybe a bit of scuffing on the nice hardwood floor), but better to warn him than cause him undue distress.]

[Loki nods his acknowledgement of the warning, and turns his back for the sake of breaking the circle. The returning force of Balthazar's grace probably won't be enough to cause harm, not when it's only been suppressed rather than lost. On the other hand, Loki has been on the wrong side of the angel's essence before, and is not remotely eager to repeat the experience. Better safe than sorry. Better to do everything they can to avoid unpleasant flashbacks, after ending this little escapade on more-or-less a high note.

He reaches out a foot towards the chalk lines, pauses, and counts down for both of them:] One, two, three.

[With that, he smudges a segment of the circle into illegibility, and Loki can feel the circle break like an almost tangible thing. He can certainly feel the rush of power swell and build back into life, embers whipped back into burning, and even now he shudders a little on an instinctive level at the memory of that heat.

But, leaving Balthazar to finish pulling himself back together, Loki gets to his feet and steps outside the circle, only glancing back after he's sure it's over to check on the other man.]

[That fire is another thing they may have to deal with, in time, at least in the sense of examining, discussing, and possibly screaming at one another. Balthazar can't change what he's made of any more than Loki can, of course, but they'll have to build a bridge, or find somewhere to meet in the middle.

But not tonight. He's definitely ready to end this on an upnote.

The power surges back in with a rustling sound and a distant ring, like an echo of Balthazar's true voice. Still, it's all over quite quickly, and the angel is rising gingerly when Loki looks back, prodding the place on his leg where the stab wound was, but is no longer.

Everything is in working order, if still a bit smudged with blood. Interestingly, the edges of chalk behind the angel look like they've been gone over with a giant broom--or a pair of wings.

He glances up to meet Loki's eyes, and pads closer, offering his now-healed hands.] Can I make you tea? I want to do something for you.

...And then rest.

[Loki's eyes widen in visible surprise as Balthazar rises, visibly healed and unharmed. He's less surprised at the sign of the wings - Loki knows they're there, has even come up with a few theories on how to "reach" them on whatever alternative plane they currently occupy. But he knows for a fact that he's good at hurting people, even if it's a skill he doesn't always enjoy making use of.

You wouldn't know it to look at the angel now.

His surprise is such that it takes him a second to realize what's just been said. Then he's forced to give himself a little shake to return to reality. But after that, Loki takes Balthazar's hands - somewhat hesitantly, as he's not entirely convinced they're as healed as they look - and allows himself to be helped up to his feet.]

I'm all right. [He is, mostly. Just not entirely sure he's ready to dial back enough to let Balthazar do anything for him. In fact, the sense of finality, of done, leaves Loki feeling almost a little shaky.] I would rather rest, if you don't mind.

["Together" goes unspoken, but hopefully implied.]

[For what it's worth, Balthazar's body language is still suggestive of weariness and delicacy. He's not sore exactly, but part of him still feels he should be, so he'll be a bit cautious for a few hours. He's not sure what to make of Loki's surprise, so he stills, giving him a moment to recover and think it over before clasping his hands gently, and pulling him up as much as he'll allow.]

No tea? [He gives a faint mock-pout, but that's all the needling he'll be doing. It's actually a challenge for him, interacting with Loki like this: he's given to extravagant gestures to show his affection. Doing things. Giving things. Pushing.

That doesn't work so well with Loki, particularly not when he needs space. So Balthazar worries his lip a moment, pushing his own impulses aside, and concludes tea is unnecessary, anyway.] Actually...so would I, I think. Bed or couch?

[And he gently brushes Loki's hair with the backs of his fingers.]

Bed. [Loki answers without hesitation, as he lets his eyes half-close and his head tilt, slightly but visibly, into Balthazar's touch. He is...very tired, if not necessarily physically, then certainly emotionally. More than he's let himself be in a while. He feels a stab of guilt at being difficult, at refusing the angel, but not quite enough to outweigh the tiredness.

Once they're both settled in bed together, curled up close and comfortable, he might try reading something quietly, just to settle his mind. It works, maybe a little too well, to the point that Loki drifts off quietly into a rare bout of peaceful sleep.

Though having Balthazar close by has helped bring such occasions about more and more, over the past few weeks. Either way, they're probably due for a few days of quiet, of what's come to pass for "business as usual", before taking the next steps of turning the tables.]

[Guilt isn't necessary. If time to wind down is what Loki really needs, Balthazar can hardly fault him for it. And once they're settled under the covers, with Balthazar sneakily tucking an arm around his lover, he's got nothing to complain about.

Balthazar theoretically shouldn't need to sleep as often as he does. That he does at all is a testament to how their captivity affected him. Tonight, he's just staring meditatively at the ceiling for long after Loki drifts off, but before dawn, he, too, is out. It's more than refreshing.

Over the next few days, he's eager to please, if slightly more circumspect than usual about treading on Loki's personal space. He makes efforts to coax him into activities they both like--books, parks, museums, and the luxury of touch and lovemaking--and privately turns over the event in his mind, as well as the conversation regarding Loki's desires to experience something similar.

He also makes a point of telling Loki he has no wish to restrict his comings and goings, despite Balthazar's own insecurities. He's free to step out, and if the angel frets a bit while he's alone, he'll get over it as soon as his friend returns.

It's about a week before he broaches the topic of catharsis again, this time as they lie in bed once more, Balthazar with his romance novel, Loki with something presumably more cerebral.]

I could get candles easily enough, and rope. [He murmurs as he flips a page, deceptively casual.] It seems to me a circle on the floor wouldn't be necessary for you. The bed might be more comfortable, or at least the dining table with a blanket thrown over it. What do you think?

[Over the next few days, Loki has the sense of something uncoiling that had previously been knotted a little too tight, of some rough edges smoothing down. He lets himself be coaxed, usually with a smile and a tease. Yet he also finds it easier in the meantime to permit himself to take pleasure once more in the simple act of company, of going out, of touch. There is one day where he finds himself seized with the urge to go elsewhere once more, but more for the sake of proving to himself that he'll come back. And he does.

Yet all the while, in the back of his mind he turns over the possibility of where to go from here, of what it might be like to be the one willingly bound and helpless.

So when Balthazar does finally broach the subject, it's more an inevitability than a surprise. Loki only looks up for a moment from his book before looking down to finish his page.]

I would hate to have to replace the table if we got out of hand.

The floor will be fine. On the rug, perhaps.

[The angel gives a faint sputter of amusement, setting his novel aside on the nightstand.] Well, now I'm intimidated. I wasn't planning on hitting you hard enough to break the table. I think it's solid oak.

[He leans back, sobering only a little. It's not that he's not taking this venture seriously, but at the moment they're warm and comfortable and relaxed, and can afford a gentle tease.] But, certainly, if the rug suits you, it wouldn't be as far to fall in the event of a disaster.

I was going to leave out the ritual circle, but do you want your own powers at all dampened? Or is that too much? [The right letters painted or cut into the restraints would do it, he thinks, although he's not an expert on Loki's abilities. But if Loki does want that kind of restriction, he'll probably collaborate anyway.]

And...I was thinking tomorrow. After breakfast?

[With a long-suffering sort of air that's just a little too deliberate to be entirely serious, Loki marks his place in his book and sets it on top of Balthazar. Then, meeting his expression with one of carefully practiced innocence, he replies:] What we plan for and what occur don't always align, now do they?

[They're warm and comfortable and relaxed, and he enjoys bantering back and forth with the angel even under circumstances much worse than this.

Then, with the air of a cat comandeering a sunbeam, he presses nearer to Balthazar, draping an arm with affectionate possessiveness over his waist and hooking a leg over his. But despite his languid air, his tone is perfectly serious as he replies, without hesitation:] Too much. I assure you, I feel pain almost as well as any mortal. [His illusions certainly won't do a bit to help with that.]

And tomorrow will be fine. I suppose this isn't something that should be attempted on an empty stomach, after all.

[Balthazar watches, lips quirked and half parted, as if he's treading the line between laughter and preparing for a witty retort. And it strikes him, suddenly, how weirdly, pleasantly domestic and natural this feels, as if they were actually created to spend quiet time reading in bed like this, at least part of the time.

The slide into smug, possessive cuddling just enhances that impression, and despite the serious undertone creeping in, the angel gives a contented little sigh and curls around Loki lightly in return.] Duly noted. We'll skip it, then. Yes, I think a light breakfast would do wonders for both my endurance and yours. And I'll pick up the last things we'll need afterward.

[It will give them time, once more, to mentally prepare and calm themselves.

Bur for now...toying with the ends of the other man's hair, he smiles.] Mmm. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably... Other than binding and gagging and heat, what is it you'd like from me?

[Loki opens one eye to regard Balthazar almost incredulously, before replying:] It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself. [Shakespeare is one element of human culture that he embraced with remarkable swiftness.

Beyond that, Loki lets out an equally contented hum at the feeling of the fingers in his hair, letting both eyes fall closed for a moment longer. He's started keeping his hair short again - one thing Balthazar might have noticed is that how long he lets his hair get is actually a reasonably good indication of how bad Loki's mental state is. But after a moment, moving carefully so as not to shift the angel's hand, he pushes himself up on his elbows just enough to look the other man in the eye.] Mm. Hit me, cut me, speak to me. [Because Balthazar has proven quite thoroughly how much damage his words can do.] Take me apart [Loki has a very definite idea what he wants the end result to be, but not quite enough self-awareness to have any definite idea of how to get there.

With an apologetic sort of half-smile, he adds:] I'm afraid I'm not entirely certain what I'd like. I have far less experience in these matters than you seem to. [Not to mention a few hangups about sex in general. It's probably only to be expected, when possessed of Loki's corrosive self-loathing. Balthazar is the exception that's proven the rule, so far.]

I can tell you what I don't want, and you can work from there. [Even now, maybe even especially now, he trusts the angel that much.]

[He can't help but laugh at the quick response. What's not to like about Shakespeare? Pretty words, terrible puns, and a nice mix of lowbrow comic relief tossed in to season the epic tragedy and high romance. It's very much to the angel's taste, as well.

He sort of regrets the reduction in the length of Loki's hair, but he has noticed the shorter it gets the more content his friend seems to be. So, well enough, and at any rate the outer layer, attractive as it is, is not the main thing that draws him to Loki. What that draw is, is something he's not quite able to put into words, but the past weeks have established it's more than shared suffering and similar brokenness.]

Speak to you, hm? That's probably where I need most to know what you don't want. [He meets the gaze, gently searching.] You know I'm capable of throwing tact to the winds. And you truly won't be able to defend yourself verbally with a gag on.

Which means we'll need signals, as well. I have ideas there.

[Loki replies in a drawl.] I'm aware. [Or at least, god, he hopes he's aware. He hopes some of their more biting exchanges in the past are at least close to the extent of Balthazar's abilities to verbally eviscerate him.

More gently, but just as seriously, he adds:] That's the point. [Loki is good at verbally defending himself. Maybe too good. He's started to wonder, especially after their last session, if he's even capable of not.

He's started to wonder if that's necessarily a good thing. It's unpleasant, hearing some of the things Balthazar can say to him. But sometimes it's unpleasant in the sense that bleeding out poison is unpleasant.] But if you have ideas, by all means share them. I'm listening.

[After a beat, he adds, in something of a rush:] Something else I forgot, by the way. No blindfolding. [Loki has definite hangups about the dark.]

[That remains to be seen. Balthazar likes to think of himself as a teller of difficult truths, but he's also aware he's kind of a dick. And yet, with only a couple incidents excepted, he's tried to be on good behavior with Loki.

But you really can't take someone apart while being on best behavior.]

I can get a cricket-clicker on a band. You can press it for 'red'. I'll have your hands in front of you anyway, so I can see if you drop it or can't reach it to make it sound. But with you gagged, it all feels a bit riskier to me. I'll touch your hands periodically, I think, and ask you to squeeze back if you're all right, or try to push me away if you're not.

And pushing away will mean I'll ease off, but not stop altogether. Does that sound reasonable?

[Since the last time they tried this, things got very intense, quite abruptly. Some minor adjustments in their approach can't hurt.

His fingertips curl against the shorter locks at the back of Loki's neck.] I don't like the idea of a blindfold with a gag, anyway. I need your expressions for feedback when you're not talking. But I do understand. No blindfold. No darkness.

[He gives him what's meant to be a reassuring caress, changing the subject for comfort's sake.] On that note, do you have a preference for gag type? Some of them just look silly to me. I was thinking a panel or a simple bit.

Yes, that sounds reasonable. [Very reasonable, in fact. Loki had been prepared to take risks, to leave some things to chance if need be. He usually is. But it's...good, in a way that's still a bit unfamiliar, to know that they might not necessarily need to. He relaxes just a bit, but it was a bit that he hadn't known until then that he needed.

With the discussion apparently going well, Loki rests his head against Balthazar's chest once more, with a soft exhale of relief.] No blindfolds. No darkness. ["Thank you." He does understand.]

And you're right. Some of them look desperately ridiculous, in fact. Panel will be fine.

[After a cautious pause during which Loki thinks on what he's about to say next very carefully, he ventures:] You're free to ease off as well, of course. On your own initiative. If there comes a point where you honestly think you need to. [It's a slight step, acknowledging that Balthazar does have limits, does have points that he might be unable to cross without actively harming himself. But it's progress, perhaps.]

[Not that things might not still go out of control, even with the additional precautions. Loki's previous observation was correct. What they plan for and what actually happens are two different things. At least this way, though, Balthazar can feel like he made an attempt not to run amok.

He gives a lazy little stretch as Loki settles back against his chest, feeling rewarded.] Good. Panel it is.

[It's an item he doesn't possess, but the same shop where he purchased the whip last time ought to have something he can use. After breakfast, then.]

I'll...try to remember that. [He's not sure what his own limits will be, in point of fact. Loki is infinitely more important to him than anyone he's ever done this type of thing with before, and that means he'll be afraid of going too far and losing him.] As far as what to say to you...is there anything off limits?

[Loki first answers without thinking.] No. [Because, for a moment, he genuinely can't think what could be off-limits, with what he's already invited.

And then...he does. He thinks of a few things that really could break him irreparably even to hear, whether or not they were true, and the thought makes him tighten his fingers in Balthazar's shirt in a gesture that's almost needy. Turning his face a little against the angel's chest, Loki amends:] ...yes.

Don't... [He takes a breath, and it catches painfully in his throat for a moment.] Don't say you hate me, or you're leaving, or...that you regret any of this. Not even to get a rise. Don't even lie about it.

...and lie to me anyway, if it is. Please. [Ordinarily, he might be able to disregard and dissociate that far, but if the goal is to make him vulnerable...Loki isn't at all sure, but that's one risk he finds that he's not quite willing to take.]

[Of all the things he could have put off limits, Balthazar wasn't expecting that. He's not looking at his face, but Loki might hear the little catch in the angel's breath, feel the flutter in his chest.

It's not that he doesn't know Loki genuinely cares for him, values his company, even loves him--they've said as much, after all. But somehow every time he comes out with something like this it shocks Balthazar, just a bit, but in the most pleasant of ways. He murmurs one of the Enochian endearments they've gotten so much mileage out of in the last few weeks, and gives him a little squeeze.]

I'm not going to lie to you about anything. I think...it's important that you know I'm speaking the truth when we do this, or at least the truth as I see it. So I won't be saying anything like that. No regrets, love always, and you're probably stuck with me until the stars themselves go cold, so no worries there.

I'm going to bring up things that will hurt. And I may very well give orders that damage your pride. But nothing like that. I promise.

...good.

[It's a promise he believes, that Loki can't help but believe. No one's heart beats like this when they're lying. Not even his.

It's still a strange feeling, that a promise of the truth could actually mean he's spared something he fears. But Loki nods his understanding and acceptance, settling a little against Balthazar once more.] Good.

[The rest, he can accept. Work with. Deserve. Honestly, there's still more than a bit that Balthazar doesn't know about him or how he got to this point, mostly because it's a very long story. That might change very soon, of course, but for now...]

That's fine, otherwise. Or...fine for this, I suppose. And if not... [He shrugs, trying for casual, composed.] "Red". [Hopefully, it's as simple as that, for both of them.]

[Something Loki fears. Balthazar can't imagine anyone so fiercely defensive and independent fearing abandonment, rejection, the way he himself does. And yet, judging from what just passed between them, Loki must. He's not sure whether that's heartbreaking or blessed reassurance, but hearing it only secures his own devotion. Until the stars go cold.]

We'll work it out as we go. [He sighs softly, promising.] But it might be wise to get some rest first. Do you expect to sleep tonight?

[That's a suggestion disguised as a question. Balthazar thinks he'll make the attempt himself, but he's more concerned about Loki, as whatever they end up doing will be harder on him physically.]

[Abandonment, rejection, being forgotten or left behind. There are few things that Loki fears more. It's to the point that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way. He prepares for the inevitable loss at the start, because if never being cared for means never being left behind...it's a worthwhile sacrifice. If he's fiercely defensive and independent enough, maybe he can bury that fear too deep down inside to matter.

Or it had worked, for a while. But this is...just that bit too nice to easily go back.]

Oh, I never expect to sleep. [He smiles, faintly playful, even though he doesn't lift his head or open his eyes again.] That way I can be pleasantly surprised when it does happen. [He knows that he should sleep, but it's something that it's always Loki's first instinct to avoid whenever possible.]

[Balthazar's answering laugh rumbles in his chest, and he threads his fingers through Loki's hair, stroking in a way calculated to relax him further.] I suppose I could say I expect you to try, but I'm not actually in charge yet. So I'll save that for tomorrow.

Still, if you're comfortable where you are, don't feel in any rush to move on my account. [Whatever their fears--and however surprisingly mutual they seem to be--no one's going anywhere tonight. The angel feels warm and content and very not-alone. At that rate, it's easy to enjoy the moment and forget any apprehension he might have in the light of their proposed activities for the next day.]