thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

OC-Swap Ask Game

1 Tell me what you'd do to one of my OCs if you had them for a day!

2 Tell me a little about one of your OCs and I'll respond with what I'd do to them in return!

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Day 6 of inktober

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

🗡That will depend on the manner of your return 🏹

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

yes please run that character into the ground. they need to be swaying and staggering by the climax of the book/movie/episode

BUT

they have to get to collapse after. they need to fold into a heap while their friends/team scramble to break their fall. deprive them of that rest until the very end but then they need to actually get it.

bonus points if they’re delirious/drifting/only half-aware the comfort is happening

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

you can dislike smut and nsfw art without shaming smut writers/readers and nsfw artists. <3

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

such a profound sense of delight when I realize that a piece of media is matching my freak to the very letter. there are creators out there who are my exact kind of sicko and we are reaching out to each other as if across the cosmos.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

we’ll we’ll we’ll if it isn’t autocorrect

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

"It's okay," she wheezed through her tears, "It's okay, you're okay."

The room she'd been given was inside one of the trees; its ceramic walls were warm to the touch, and it was dark inside, with only one small window not even big enough for her to put a hand through.

A makeshift bed - more like a nest - made of scrap fabric, an old copper thimble upturned to be a seat at a table carved roughly out of an old chunk of strangely smooth wood. Percy had set out more food on it, but Ariadne couldn't bear the thought of eating.

A foreign place full of foreign items. Items that belonged to that human, just like her now.

It was all terrible.

As soon as the men had left her alone in the room, she came unravelled. In a fit of manic rage, she up-ended the table and sent it crashing to the floor.

The food scattered and she kicked at it, kicked at the thimble, hurting her feet. She tore away the fabric from the bed, pulling it apart until all that was left was the pile of leaves that had been underneath.

Only then, finally, did her legs give out and send her to the floor in a heap.

The tears burned in her eyes, boiling over her cheeks. She clutched her head through a tangle of hair as the trembling in her hands spread violently, and set her entire body to shaking.

Part of her still refused to believe it was true.

How could she be trapped here?

It must just be a nightmare.

She squeezed her eyes closed, but even there in the darkness, she could see the greasy face of the human staring down at her with glassy, wet eyes. His bulbous tongue licking his teeth as he laughed at her pain. She could hear it, she could feel it rumbling in her chest.

"Please," she groaned, her body tense, and turned her head into her arm, "please, please -"

It couldn't be real.

Soon, her Nessa would come to get her, shake her awake from this nightmare. She would smile down at Ariadne, with her pretty pink eyes, and hold her until the terrible visions faded.

Another part of her, another vicious, cruel part of her was screaming.

You are here and no one will protect you!

The bow Briar had given her was resting against the wall, the quiver of arrows spilled across the floor where she'd dropped it. Both of the men had been so kind...so far. But she couldn't trust them, no matter how honest they were with her.

It wasn't her mind at risk, it was her body they wanted.

Ariadne tried to catch her breath, which came in sharp, painful gasps and loud sobs that were dampened by the earthen walls.

"It's okay," she wheezed through her tears, "It's okay, you're okay."

She repeated it again and again, whispered like a prayer.

Maybe, if she said it enough times, it would be true.

『 Previous / Next 』 [Tag List]: @blood-and-regrets, @swisscheesethethird, @chaotic-orphan, @inhurtandincomfort, @re-whump, @scumashling, @whumpsday

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

"You stay the hell away from me! Both of you! I swear to the gods I'll kill you before I let you touch me!"

"Ah - I - I understand your worry, but please, we aren't here to hurt you. We brought clothes, and something to eat."

Ariadne couldn't quite steady her shaking breaths. She glared up at the two new faeries, feeling panicked and wild as adrenaline burned cold inside her.

She knew they must be from other faerie rings, from somewhere else nearby, because she didn't recognise either of their faces. Did she have to go out and face them, naked and unarmed?

The jar that the human had put her in wasn't a very sturdy means of defense, but she knew they only had one way inside - through the open top - and more importantly she only had one way out.

"Just - just put them down there!" She called out of the jar, her hands balled into fists to stop them trembling, "And don't look!"

The men did as she said, and placed a pile of clothes, and a small leaf with food on it at the entrance of the jar. They both turned their backs to her, and Ariadne scrambled up quickly to snatch the clothes up.

A too-long blouse, and slightly ill-fitting leggings. Had they made these themselves? Her stomach turned at the thought that maybe it was the human who made them. They were made from some kind of cloth that felt itchy and rough against her skin - she was so used to wearing smooth leaves and silky petals.

She'd hoped that being dressed again would make her feel less vulnerable, but the pounding of her anxious heart refused to calm.

Glancing at the men through the opening of the jar, she realised with an inadvertent gasp that neither of them had wings.

Rather, they must have had wings at some point - because the pale and pretty one had two jagged scars up his back where his shirt fell low enough to show them.

No need for breeding males to fly, she thought bitterly.

"Are you - are you decent?" The pale and pretty one asked. He had long blond hair that brushed his back, and wide shoulders.

"Yeah..." Ariadne muttered, though even with clothes on, she didn't feel that way, "but can you...stay turned around for a while?"

The one with dark, shaggy hair huffed a sigh, but both of them remained still, with their backs to her.

Ariadne looked up, up and out, through the foliage and through the glass panes of her new prison - out into the large room beyond, where the human was keeping them in some kind of terrible box.

All the walls were glass, but the roof...the roof was an iron grate. Small enough that she might be able to stick her arms through, but one touch of the iron on her bare skin would burn into her like a hot coal.

She shuddered at the thought, and then turned back to the men; "You two...have you...been here a long time?"

"Long enough," the pale and pretty one said. His voice was gentle, and pained. The one with dark, shaggy hair just nodded in agreement.

"Is it just the two of you?" Ariadne asked, slowly, carefully stepping out of the jar.

"There are four of us - well, five now, including you."

"And are all of you -" she hesitated to finish the sentence, feeling nauseous both from not having eaten, and from the implications of her question, "- are all of you men?"

The two fairies exchanged a glance. Instead of answering, the one with dark, shaggy hair posed a question back to her:

"You know why he put you in this tank, don't you?"

Ariadne swallowed hard, against the tears, and against the bile building in the back of her throat. This was no time to crumble to panic - surely there must be some way to escape!

"The human said none of his....attempts ever took. What did he mean? I can't imagine any woman willing letting herself get..." she hesitated, then changed her mind, "So, what, does that mean you never -."

"We did." It was the pale and pretty one who answered.

Ariadne's jaw set, and her teeth clenched.

"You did." She repeated stiffly, "All of you...?"

"All of us," he said.

She leaned a hand against the jar to help steady herself.

These two seemingly normal, harmless, gentle faeries - who had offered her clothes, and food, and approached so innocently - they had forced themselves on an unwilling woman at the orders of a human.

The thought of it threatened to bring her to her knees.

"You're making us sound like animals, Percy..." The one with dark, shaggy hair muttered in a sigh of frustration, "it's not like we had a choice in the matter either..."

"Briar, I told you - that doesn't matter," the pale and pretty one - Percy - said miserably, "what does the mouse care why the owl preys on it?"

Ariadne felt the growing pressure of fear in her chest.

She wanted to turn and run, to flee into the trees, to keep running until her heart burst from the strain.

But she could feel it.

Most of the trees in the tank were fake, made of painted ceramic filled with harmless potted plants.

And she wouldn't get very far before hitting a glass wall.

So instead, she brushed away the cold sweat of fear from her face, and stood up straight to give off at least the semblance of control.

"You can turn around now," she said, and when they did, she met each of their eyes one at a time.

Percy had languid, lidded blue eyes that spoke his emotions as loudly as if he were shouting them. But Briar's dark grey eyes were harder to read, guarded, on edge.

"I wish we could have met on better -"

"- Tell me what he does to you," Ariadne interrupted, "Tell me what he does, when you don't obey."

Percy hesitated. He glanced at Briar, who gave him an almost imperceptible shake of his head. The colour had gone out of both of their faces.

"She deserves to -"

" - I'm telling you, Percy, don't do it -"

"- She deserves to know!" Percy insisted, raising his voice and causing Ariadne to flinch. Her eyes instinctively scanned the ground for a stone, or a stick, something she could grab as a weapon - just in case.

"Do what you want. You always do." Briar snarled, then turned and stormed off into the trees.

Ariadne watched him go, then glanced back at Percy, who was shaking his head with a sigh. The chill of dread had settled in her stomach, right behind the stinging scar where the pin had impaled her.

"How can it be that much worse than pulling your wings out?" She asked quietly, and Percy gave her a grimace.

"If he...if he doesn't see us...well, he calls it 'locking up'. If he doesn't see it within the first few months, he sprays the tank with a gas. I don't know what it is, but it...it drives us all mad. Like our bodies are on fire. The only thing we can think of is..."

He trailed off into silence, hugging his elbows and averting his eyes from her, as if even the thought of it was painful.

"Okay, I get it," Ariadne mumbled, then added; "Theres more?" when Percy met her eyes again, half apologetic, half frightened.

"Sometimes we're able to fight it," he said, "sometimes the...the young lady is able to avoid us, or fight us off long enough...but..."

He choked out a sob, and then held a hand up and turned away, "I apologise, just, just a moment - stupid, I shouldn't be -"

Ariadne watched him, and hesitated, pulling back the hand that had reached out - out of instinct - to comfort him when she saw his tears.

She didn't know him.

She didn't owe him any sympathy.

So what if they were both here against their will?

Why should she comfort a man who had...who would...

Conflicted, she clenched her fingers into a fist at her side, and waited in silence until Percy collected himself enough to continue:

"The pins," he finally said, with tears still shining in his eyes, "If the gas doesn't work, he'll take one of us, and the young lady. He'll pin us down again, and he'll - he uses - "

"He gets the guy off by force, into a tube, and then he shoves it right up your cunt."

Ariadne's head whipped around so fast she pulled a muscle in her neck.

Coming out of the treeline, the opposite direction from where Briar headed, was a muscular, bow-legged faerie. A man with auburn hair chopped short at the shoulders, and who still had both of his wings.

"Gale!" Percy snapped, taking a couple of immediate steps to get between her and this new man, and putting an arm out defensively.

"Gods, but you do just talk, Percy," Gale sighed, stopping easily a short distance away, "Why not just tell her how it is? Or better yet, why not throw her down and take her now? Save us all some trouble."

"Stop," Percy warned, his tone darkening, "stop it, Gale."

"Oh please, don't pretend you're some kind and gentle martyr. You didn't have any trouble getting on top of the last bitch that got thrown in here. At least that one was kind of good-looking."

He eyed Ariadne up with a raised brow, and a frown of disgust - and then let out a yelp as the rock she'd picked up from the ground clocked him right in between the eyes.

"Argh! You little -!"

He took a threatening step towards her, and she took the same kind of step towards him, but Percy refused to lower his arm, and held her back.

"You're not allowed to hurt her." Percy said, though Ariadne was sure she could hear a note of satisfaction in his voice.

Gale growled in frustration, an angry colour rising in his face as a thin trickle of blood rolled down his nose.

"Damn that bastard's rules!" He yelled, kicking at the dirt and sending grass and a group of isopods flying, "And damn you, you slut. You should be more afraid of your little blond guard dog than of me."

"You're the only dog I see here -" Ariadne shot back, another rock clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles had gone white, "-yapping away, looking for somewhere to bury his bone. Get out of here before I put you out of your misery."

The man glared death at her, but his eyes flickered up to Percy, and then just over Percy's shoulder at something she couldn't see. Begrudgingly, he turned.

"I'll come find you again some dark night. We'll see how tough you act then."

Ariadne watched him as he walked away. She watched until his silhouette had disappeared completely into the foliage. And she waited, watching, until she was sure he was gone.

Only then did she release her death grip on the rock, her hand aching, the stone's edges imprinted against her palm.

Percy turned to her, and then glanced past her over his shoulder to where Briar was sitting in the ceramic branches of the trees, with a makeshift bow now hanging casually in his hand, a quiver of arrows fletched with grass at his hip.

"We have a place where you can rest..." Percy offered, trying for a weary smile, "we...we can take turns guarding you."

Ariadne looked at the jar she'd been brought in. It had no lid, there was no way to protect herself inside it.

And she was so tired.

She glanced one last time back where Gale had disappeared.

Then threw her lot in with Percy and Briar.

"My name is Ariadne," she said, as Briar came up next to them, "and I want that bow."

Briar handed her the weapon without complaint, and nodded his head towards the tree line.

"Ariadne," Percy repeated. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and I'm so, so sorry that you're here."

『 Previous / Next 』 [Tag List]: @blood-and-regrets, @swisscheesethethird, @chaotic-orphan, @inhurtandincomfort

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Iska // Meres

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

"Hey, you're not dead, right?"

Her skin burned hot from the fresh bruises, painted in violent red and purple all over her arms, and further under her dress, "Well - maybe you wish you were. I would, if it was me."

He was awkwardly aware of how rough his hands were, touching her soft skin and holding her as gently as he could - like a fragile animal, a slender bird who could come apart any moment.

"But you're not, huh?" He muttered, "Gotta be made of stronger stuff than that, putting up such a fight...."

A shiver went up his spine. The echoes of her sobbing screams played on loop in the back of his head; it'd been a while since he saw someone take a cane so well.

"Why...?" he asked to the silent room, to the limp, pale figure in his arms, "why fight? It's so much easier...just to give in..."

The girl stirred, with a broken, hoarse moan, and he startled.

Would she be afraid of him? He should have just left her on the bed like he was supposed to. No other mage prisoner had ever made him...feel this way.

She slowly turned her head to look up at him, her whole body trembling with the effort.

Not a word, not one single word had she said to anyone since the day she'd been taken, but her pink lips - swollen at the corner where dried blood had stained them black - opened, and in a whisper, barely above a breath, she said:

"Please....no more...."

He blinked.

"No, no, I'm not - I won't - " He tried to say, but she was already gone again. Her head fell against his chest, and she was still.

Better that way, so that she couldn't hear the racing of his heart.

『 Previous / Next 』

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

"This could be much easier for you," the slender man sighed, levering her arm upwards with a yank that nearly dislocated it, "if you would only comply, I could make this as painless as possible. In fact, you might even enjoy it -"

The heavy metal door clicked as someone unlocked it, and a scruffy looking man she hadn't seen before stepped inside. He had a glass in his hands, which was filled with clear liquid.

"Oh my, is it time already?"

There was no response from the new man, he averted his eyes as the slender man heaved her up with shocking strength and - too exhausted to fight anymore - she let him cuff her to a nearby beam. He patted the scruffy man on the shoulder as he left; "Don't have too much fun, now."

He didn't respond. Just stood like an awkward statue until the two of them were alone. Then, finally, she met his eyes - dark, and nervous, but not dead and blank like the slender man's. She watched, hyper-alert, shoulders raised defensively, as he walked carefully towards her.

"You don't say much," he offered in a mutter, "we have that in common."

She eyed him, flinching violently as he held up the glass; "It's just water," he assured her, "here, drink -"

He pressed the glass to her lips, and tried to pour the liquid into her mouth, but she pressed her lips so tightly together she could have bitten them off. The liquid spilled down her chin and soaked the front of her dress, it was cold, it may have even been water like he said.

"Hey, come on - here, I'll show you -"

But she was looking away, shaking her head wildly; her loose hair slipped over her shoulders, falling into her eyes.

Coarse, strong fingers gripped her jaw - firm, but not cruel - and turned her back to face him. She must have looked exactly how she felt - like a wild animal, panting, feral and frightened - when she met his eyes once again.

The glow from the braziers in the basement hit them just so, and for a moment they shone warm, like honey, in the light.

He brought the glass to his lips and took a drink himself.

"There, see?" He said, in the barest of whispers, "It's safe." He let her face go, and nervously, haltingly, she parted her lips and clumsily drank what was left in the cup.

When it was finished, he didn't say anything else, just turned away from her and - with a brief glance over his shoulder - left her alone in the room.

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[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

inspecting fresh goods

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