bakerstreet | The HURT ME Meme

The HURT ME Meme

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.

Suggested Posting Form: (Optional)

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Owe you. He likes that. The thought of being owed. It's a difficult concept for him to grasp; he tends to assume that actions in the past are the past, forgotten, that each future moment is fresh.

"I'm tired of being a weapon," he tells Arkin. "But, for you, I wouldn't mind." He says it easily, even though the admission is terrifying. He wouldn't mind giving because Arkin wouldn't have assumed to take. "If you need me, I want you to find me."

So, Arkin leaves and unless Zane checks or follows him. He isn't seen again for a week.

When he returns he has a brand new red truck(he called in a favor for it.) a duffel bag and supplies in the bed of the truck covered in a tarp. He drops his bag inside then starts bringing in other stuff. The other supplies.

When he gets back, Zane is gone. The house is empty.

It's nighttime before Zane returns, heralded by an uncharacteristic thump on the rooftop. Zane never thumps when he lands; he has exquisite skill in Steelpushing. But this time he does.

Stumbles in through the skylight, breathing heavily, and gropes for the store of pewter that he keeps in a safe in his room. His fingers smear blood on the combination key, which he turns to 1616 and fumbles open. He swallows two whole beads of pewter, without even bothering to get water first, and sinks to the ground.

He has been shot. In the arm, and again in the torso. An ordinary man wouldn't have survived at all. A Mistborn has a fighting chance.

Zane not being there when arrived gave him time to put things away. After that he started working on odd jobs. When he wasn't a thief he got his living in construction.

The thump gets his attention and the sounds that follow. He's cautious when he heads toward the source in case it isn't who he thinks it is. He sees the trail of blood first then Zane. He rushes over, his hands hover for a second like he's not sure if he should touch him.

He doesn't ask what happened. Instead he strips off his own over shirt and presses it to wound in his torso. "How bad is it?"

He focuses up on Arkin, at first not comprehending what he sees. It's been a week of he's not coming back, he's betrayed you, whispers right into the root of his mind. He hasn't been able to sleep. Has barely been able to eat. He went out on a contract just to shut it all up for a few minutes.

That's why he made a mistake. He was distracted.

But Arkin is here. His faith paid off. He reaches out and rests his hand on Arkin's arm. Arkin, who is real, whose heartbeat Zane can feel through tin-enhanced fingertips.

"Said you wouldn't come back," he mumbles.

"I said I was coming back, remember?"

It sadly isn't new to Arkin to come back to find people he knows hurt or dying. He's still concerned and it shows but he doesn't have the kind of panic most people would get. Hell, even before people kept dying on him he didn't panic.

"Hey," he says firmly, "I need you to focus." He keeps eye contact with him. "How bad is it? Can you heal from this? I need you to answer me, all right?"

"I've healed from worse." Possibly the first time he's even alluded to the spike that's speared through him.

Kill him, says God. He's betrayed you. Kill him before he kills you.

"He's not like that," says Zane, tightly. "He came back."

Kill him.

"I won't," hisses Zane, and he looks up to Arkin. "Bandages. Slow down the bleeding. And don't let me run out of pewter."

"Pewter," Arkin repeats. He just ignores what Zane says that doesn't make sense. He babbles his share of insane shit when he's fucked up.

"Okay. All right. Put pressure on this. Right here," he says and takes one of Zane's hands and presses it to the spot. "I will be right back. Don't move from that spot. Do you hear me?"

He leaves him again but only long enough to get what he needs. He comes back and dumps the supplies on the bed. A familiar box cutter is in his hand and he raises it to cut open Zane's shirt.

His hand moves, presses. Pain swells, but he's flaring pewter hard enough that he can't bring himself to care.

His eyes close, and his head falls to the side, his cheek resting against the wall below the safe, where he's fallen.

When the box cutter makes an appearance, there's a brief flare of energy. The cutter twitches in Arkin's hand, but Zane doesn't actually try to push or pull it out of his grip. He just can't turn his suspicious side off.

"Jesus!"

In other words, he got his shirt open. It's not just the wound he's reacting to its the freaking metal spike through his chest. How the fuck can somebody be still alive after that. He swallows once then starts working on him. The most important thing is to get the bleeding stopped before he's moved.

A few minutes later he's got the bandages in place. "Do think you can stand? Gonna move you to the bed, all right? Come on," he says then tries to get him up.

Zane is puzzled at the reaction, at first. Glances down, and follows Arkin's gaze, and it actually takes him a moment to remember the spike. Oh. The flat of it makes a lump above his rib cages, and the point protrudes less than a centimeter from between his shoulderblades. A tiny point. It went through where his heart was supposed to be.

But his heart still beats. It beats strong.

Flares pewter, even though he knows the more he pushes the pewter the worse the drag will be when he has to come off of it. The crash might be enough to kill him. He doesn't know. He's never pushed that far. Moves to his feet, and makes it to the bed, where he settles mostly on his uninjured side. He doesn't like the way the spike sometimes catches on the sheets when he sleeps on his back.

He watches Arkin. Wordless, now.

With the bleeding apparently stopped he moves on to cleaning him up. He steps away long enough to get water and clean towels.

"What the hell happened?" he asks as he starts wiping away the blood on his chest.

"There was someone I had to kill. It went wrong." But he got the contract money. He got the atium.

"Or..." His hand moves to the spike. "Do you mean...?" He looks uncertain, now, almost childlike.

"That doesn't look like it'll kill you," Arkin says, meaning the spike. So, yes, he was asking about the more present injuries.

Arkin is having a little trouble dealing with this. Mostly because he feels so fucking useless. "Where you trying to get yourself killed?" he asked, annoyed.

"I'm sorry," says Zane, sincerely. Surprising himself at the sincerity. "It usually goes better." He digs in his pocket, then, and pulls out a little nugget of metal. It's the size of a large bead, or a very small marble, and made of a dull silvery metal.

Don't show him that, hisses the voice, but Zane holds it out, between thumb and forefinger. "For you," he says. Arkin can't burn it, but he can sell it. "Be careful. That much is about thirty thousand dollars." Just that little amount. Well, closer to twenty thousand, if he's selling it to someone who's not a Mistborn.

The voice hisses in the back of his mind, but he relaxes, now. It's all right. He didn't give his complete trust. After all, he got two of the nuggets for doing the job that almost killed him, that he'll survive now.

"I thought," he murmurs, "for your family."

Edited 2013-04-08 04:42 (UTC)

Arkin almost says he can't take it and it really looks like he's about to refuse but in the end he does take it and put it in his pocket.

"Thanks but-- they're fine. They kinda have a guardian angel now. I don't know how long it was before you found me but I helped a girl out of there before he caught me again. She uh, well, it turns out her dad's loaded. He's looking after them."

He sits there an awkward moment, staring seemingly at nothing. "You need a better safe," he says. His eyes are on the safe. "Would take me about ten minutes to crack that one." He considers it a second. "Maybe less."

Now that the giving is done, he's not really sure why he did it. Something about how forcing Arkin back means it doesn't count -- means he didn't come back of his own will. Means that Zane owes him something.

Now Zane doesn't owe him anything. The scales are even.

So why doesn't it feel that way?

He shifts, hisses in pain, his hand coming to the hole in his side. What if he does die? What if it comes on him suddenly?

"Maybe it should be sewn up," he admits. "Are you glad they're safe?"

Confusion crosses Arkin's face. It is a strange question to him. Of course he is. "Yeah. I had to know for sure."

He gets up and rubs a hand over his face. Part of him really doesn't understand why he came back here. He could have just stayed with Lisa and tried to repair what's left between them.

"How's the pain?" he asks at length.

"Agony."

He's not entirely sure how he's conscious, or concentrating. Oh, he's flaring pewter again. He experimentally tries burning it slower, and the wash of pain is so intense that he feels a surge of nausea.

"Do you have a steady hand?" he asks. "I can tell you how to stitch it up."

Arkin moves back over to the bed. "Yeah," he confirms. He always needed it for his line of work.

"You sure you wanna sew it up? Could still get infected." Well, maybe not. He has no idea if those powers of his help prevent infection. Either way, he already has the stuff in the room to do it. The lays the stuff out on a towel next to Zane.

He hesitates, his expression very hard to read. "I got some pain killers. Do you need them?"

A shake of his head. No; the painkillers will either burn out of his system too fast to do any good, or they'll build up and hit him at the same time as the pewter drag. Which might kill him anyway.

"Now is a good time to ask," he says. "Things you want to know. Keep me thinking about something that isn't pain." A hissed breath. "String the needle."

Arkin frowns for the lack of answer about infection. He threads the needle and starts to prepare the area.

As for questions, he doesn't ask anything. Some of his questions he just doesn't want answers to. Others... well, they don't seem that important right now.

"Bite on this," he says, holding a piece of wood up to his mouth.

Zane lets Arkin slide the wood between his teeth. And he reduces his burning of pewter, letting the pain slide on in -- as long as he's burning it, it's possible he could be strong enough to break and shatter the wood in his mouth, and he does not want to be picking splinters out of his gums. Been there. Done that. Never again.

He watches Arkin with wary, tentative trust. He wants to trust.

Sadly, Arkin doesn't need instruction on how to sew up injuries. The Collector enjoyed showing Arkin his creations and making him watch as he sewed them up just to see Arkin worked into a rage. The Collector also treated some of Arkin's wounds from time to time. It wasn't often but he clearly remembers the pull of the thread through his skin.

His expression changes as he starts. The act bringing up a lot of memories he'd rather keep buried but still, he lets out a shaky breath and does it. His hands are steady, and he does do a good job but he winces like it hurts him.

He doesn't have any brass or zinc. If he did, then he would ease Arkin's worries. He would try and push on certain emotions, and make his companion breathe easier.

Perhaps it's better that he doesn't. His teeth dig into the wood, and he breathes in low groans, his entire body clenched in pain.

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Doing a little timeskip!

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