May 29, 2022
Life on the shelf
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Life on the shelf
Tasha's finally working on her black series display
I love this picrew so much I just had to make my boy Helian.
Create a tiefling or any sort of demon character! Feel free to make edits to your creation or upload them online as long as you give me cred
Drew the boi ☺️
Whumptober day 15
“Bees” & “Alt prompt: comfort”
Mistress was wondering how the fairies would respond to bees. Luckily, instead of the normal torture that comes of her experiments, it turns out bees are friendly to the fairies. The fuzzy insect did its best to comfort the fairies, and Aster formed a friendship with it. Eventually the bee was released by Mistress, but the little thing flies in the open window sometimes, bumping against the glass jars in an attempt to say hi to its friends. You might see this little bee in future drabbles 😏
Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror
Whumptober day 18
“Now smile for the camera”
Drabble below ⬇️
“We’ll be trying something a little different today. With all of my focus on research, my art has suffered.”
Mistress picked up the jar, shaking it slightly and watching as Aster was thrown against the sides.
“Come on pet, let’s get you all done up.”
The jar opened, and Mistress reached in to pull Aster out, her fingers clamped around his waist.
“Anastasia!”
The fairy emerged from her box on the desk, crawling on her knees to squeeze out of the door hole in the upside-down wooden box. She stood, walking over to the piece of parchment spread flat on the desk.
Two nails were stuck into the parchment, pinning it to the desk. They stuck up slightly, and a third was between the two. The third nail was upside down, seemingly having been hammered in from the bottom of the desk.
The pointy end stuck up through the paper. It was at a slight angle, and Aster frowned at the sharp edge.
“Collar him.”
Anastasia picked up a small, thick strip of cloth.
Mistress sat Aster down on the paper, holding him still by the shoulders. Anastasia stepped forward, wrapping the strip of fabric around Aster’s neck, tying it in the back.
It was tight, and Aster tried to speak, but found it was far more important to conserve his air.
“Thank you.” Mistress smiled, and Anastasia stepped back, falling into a kneel.
Next, Aster’s limbs were tied with thread, the lavender string wrapping around his body like a spiderweb, before being wrapped around a nail.
Aster was jerked forward, forced to stand with his right leg up, and his neck bent back, thread tied to the makeshift collar. The collar pressed on his windpipe as his head was pulled back by it, and the fairy coughed violently.
Another thread was wrapped around his wrists, and Aster’s arms were pulled behind his head, the string tied to the other nail.
He cried out, feeling his left foot sinking into the third nail as he lost his balance. The fairy quickly righted himself, wings flared out in an attempt to stay upright. Forced to stand on his tiptoes in order to keep from impaling his foot, Aster was held in position.
“Now smile!” Mistress laughed gently. “You want my painting to look good, don’t you?”
She pulled out her paints and sketchbook, and sat back.
It was painful and draining. Horribly draining. Half and hour passed, but it felt like longer. He could feel every breath through the thread wrapped around his middle, could feel every heartbeat throbbing underneath his collar.
Aster shook with exhaustion, tear-shining eyes squeezed shut. The skin under the thread was raw and hot, friction burns blazing pink and red. Blood dripped from the sole of his foot, the nail having long since broken the delicate skin.
Meanwhile, Mistress continued painting. She had moved on from the skin and hair, now doing her best to replicate the otherworldly shine of Aster’s wings. She dipped her brush into white, painting highlights in fractal patterns.
She looked up, noticing Aster’s discomfort. She frowned. “Smile, dear.”
Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror
Her specimens
Fandom: original work
Characters: Aster, Helian, Perren, Anastasia, Mistress
Tw: Dehumanization, restraints (including gagging), non-consensual touching and stripping (non-s3xual!)
Summary: Aster is introduced to the rules of his new life. Sequel to “her collection”
The thud of a door opening and closing jerked Aster out of his fitful sleep.
The sound of boots on the hardwood floor, and Aster jumped to his feet, wings flaring out as the last traces of sleep were blinked from his eyes.
He looked over to Helian, finding the sand fairy curled against the glass of the jar, eyes pressed closed.
Aster knocked on the glass, and Helian opened one eye, shaking his head, before closing his eyes again in a perfect mimicry of sleep. His breathing slowed until Aster could only just make out the rise and fall of his chest.
“What?…” Aster murmured, pressing his wings close against his back as the sound of footsteps grew closer.
A shadow fell over the jar, and Aster gasped as it was lifted.
He tumbled to his knees, crashing against the sides of the jar. The glass container shook as it was carried, and Aster curled into a ball, tucking his head to try and avoid injury.
Finally, still dizzy from the movement, Aster realized the jar had been set down.
He stood, hands pressed against the sides, wings still folded firmly against his back.
“Interesting.” A voice boomed from above Aster.
The fairy squeaked in terror, stumbling back. His pointed ears shifted downward to try and block out the noise, flattening against his head.
“Hey there darling.” The voice murmured, slightly quieter, but still far too loud against Aster’s sensitive eardrums. It was thick and sweet, syrupy and artificial.
Aster didn’t like it one bit.
The jar lid began to open, and Aster tensed, readying himself to fly.
He didn’t get the chance.
A hand grabbed Aster, fingers curling around his tiny body, pinning his arms and wings to his sides. His bones creaked, ribs aching as Aster gasped for breath.
Abruptly, the fairy was dropped onto a flat surface. He struggled to get up, the smell of parchment and ink heavy in his nose, but a single finger on his middle pinned Aster down.
Flat on his back, iridescent wings splayed out under him, Aster thrashed.
The human’s other hand pulled out a strip of something sticky, tearing it into four tiny pieces. She pressed it down on Aster’s wrists, then his ankles, fingers light and careful even as she restrained him.
“There we go.”
Aster’s struggling stopped as his vision went spotty from panic.
His breathing slowly evened out as Aster closed his eyes.
He lay there, eyes closed, petrified.
The human’s breath warmed his face, rustling his blond hair as she leaned over him.
The sound of shifting parchment, the smell of an ink well by his head. The faint rustling of a quill.
Aster opened his eyes.
“Male. Forest fairy.”
Two fingers combed over his bare chest, feeling from his head to his toes, running up and down the base of his wings. Her touch was soft and feather-light, tracing his collarbone, tapping over each tiny rib as if counting.
“It appears to be in good health.”
Aster keened, eyes squeezing shut again as the wrongness of the touch settled heavy in his mind.
A finger pressed on his eyelid, peeling it open with a precision only gained from years of working with small objects.
A finger on his other eyelid, peeling it open as well.
“Heterochromatic. Blue and gold.”
The scratching of a quill on parchment as her fingers left his face.
Moments later, her finger returned. Just one this time, peeling back his lips to expose his teeth.
Aster opened his mouth, before closing it again, biting down on her finger hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood.
The human yelped, finger flicking Aster’s nose hard enough to whip his head to the side. Aster’s cheek crashed into the wooden table, the thud reverberating through his skull along with the sickening crunch of his nose breaking.
Blinding pain radiated from Aster’s crooked nose, hot blood flowing in crimson rivulets down his too-pale face. His lips, stained red with blood, parted in a pained gasp.
The human’s voice rattled in the fairy’s skull, overwhelming his already assaulted senses.
“You little pest! You-you little-!”
She cut herself off with a sigh that Aster could just barely hear over the ringing in his ears.
“Anastasia! Come here!”
A female fairy, a forest fairy by the looks of it, walked over. She moved quickly but stiffly, as if every movement was carefully planned.
As she came closer, Aster slowly felt a pit of horror settling in his stomach.
Anastasia’s eyes were vacant, chestnut brown irises glazed over. Short, curly black hair framed her face, the skin littered with pink scars, and as she knelt on the table, Aster caught a glimpse of her wings, laying limp behind her.
Now, he could have been wrong, blinking through blood and tears, but he was sure Anastasia’s wings were ragged and torn at the ends.
No wonder she wasn’t flying.
The desk shook as the human opened a drawer.
She pulled out a small strip of off-white cloth, laying it on the table next to Anastasia’s still form.
“Gag it.”
Anastasia whispered a “Yes Mistress,” and picked up the cloth in surprisingly steady hands.
Aster tried to fight against the restraints, but he remained pinned like a butterfly. Anastasia kneeled by Aster’s head, wedging the cloth between his teeth, before wrapping the cloth around aster’s head, tying it in the back.
The human smiled. “Good pet.”
Anastasia did not acknowledge the statement, instead staying in a kneeling position, hands on her knees.
Aster panted, struggling to breathe through his broken nose and the blood-saturated gag.
The human reached down, fingers grasping Aster’s skirt of leaves and plant fibers.
“Let’s get this off of you.”
She tore it away, exposing Asters bare pelvis.
He cried out in protest, shouts muffled by the blood-saturated gag.
The human reached in to the drawer again, producing a fairy sized pair of shorts.
She set them inside of the jar, and Aster absentmindedly wondered how she had managed to get the stitching so neat with her hands so big.
Her fingers grabbed him again, this time around his middle, and Aster felt his vision go spotty again as the restraints were peeled off. She lifted Aster, dropping him in the jar again and screwing the lid shut.
“Get dressed. I know you can understand me.”
Aster whimpered, shuffling back into the corner.
The jar was picked up and returned to its shelf, where Helian was waiting, one golden eye open.
The jar was set down, and the human stepped out of sight, before returning with something in her hand.
“You were going to get water, but I don’t suppose you’ll be able to drink it. As for the rest of you…”
She opened the lid of Helian’s jar just a crack, slipping in a small piece of dew-speckled lettuce. Helian didn’t move until the lid was closed gain, but as soon as it was sealed, he lunged forward to grab the lettuce.
He drank greedily, water droplet cupped in his hand, before taking a bite out of the lettuce.
Aster closed his eyes to the sound of Perren’s jar opening, crying silently.
Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror