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cassaloopa · 3 months

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A Night to Forget

Reposting this scene, updated and with dialogue between Astarion and my Paladin, Zoia (she/they). Set after Raphael reveals the truth of Astarion’s scars, he shares the memory of how he got them with Zoia via tadpole.

CW/TW for torture, knife work, blood, compulsion, and some degradation. Happy ending to the scene.

He never called any of them into his chambers. It was a space that was sacred, private, barred to lowly spawn such as himself. So when the command came down to him, Astarion was justifiably terrified. And well he should be for what transpired that dreadful evening.

Cazador was in his study, waiting with eerie serenity. Almost… happy. It made Astarion’s skin crawl and his instincts screamed run run run. He entered the room, bowing low and keeping his eyes cast downward, never looking at his master directly. “You wanted to see me, lord,” he said as a statement, knowing no questions would be answered for him.

“My child, come to me, let me see you,” Cazador beckoned gently, a hand extending in welcome. Astarion’s feet dragged a moment as his body wrestled with the urge to flee, stepping in close and willing himself to remain calm. Cazador took his chin in a firm grip, turning his head this way and that, inspecting him like a prized hog at fair.

“My my, you are such a pretty thing. Such a waste, really, but there is time yet.” The look in his gaze was full of intent Astarion could not begin to comprehend, so he simply forced his face to stay neutral, allowing Cazador to fawn over him before he switched his grip to the back of Astarion’s neck and led him towards a stone table at the far end of the room.

“Get onto the table and take off your shirt, pet.” A wave of panic washed over Astarion, and he hesitated. The grip on his neck tightened painfully, sharp talon nails biting into him and forcing him to obey. He pulled away and climbed atop the table, removing his shirt with shaking fingers.

“Lie down, child, face down.” Another wave of fear hit him as he complied, cold cheek against colder stone. Cazador grazed his nails down his spine, sending a shiver through him, before seizing and binding his wrists and ankles to the slab. Astarion bit back a whimper and his whole body shook with adrenaline as he waited in dread for what would come next. He couldn’t see Cazador from where he lay, but he heard movement and the sound of implements being prepared. He craned his neck to get a glimpse of the room, trying to see anything that would give him a clue as to what misfortune was to befall him, but just then Cazador was beside him, a jagged blade in hand and a smile so malicious it would have stopped Astarion’s heart were it yet beating. “And now we begin,” he said easily as the knife came down to meet flesh.

Cazador began the first incision slowly, like drawing a hand through water; the pull of it achingly careful in its precision. Astarion arched reflexively away from the blade, crying out at the shock of sharp steel to skin, but there was nowhere to run from the knife where he was pinned against the table.

“Hold still, boy. Do not disrupt my lovely poetry with your writhing.” His words were sharp, annoyed; a clear and decisive compulsion Astarion was helpless to resist. His body stilled instantly even as he shrieked through another slice into his back, the muscles unnaturally loosened while his nerves felt the fullness of the pain. It was acute and excruciating, like fire burning through his delicate skin as each new cut shredded him to ribbons. Rivulets of his precious, vermin-stolen blood pooled on the tabletop and dripped to the floor, and all the while Cazador composed with delight and single-minded focus.

The carving seemed to carry on a lifetime as his master sliced circle and runes into his back, taking his time to savour the torture, make it right for his purposes. Astarion remained statuesque throughout, gasping and wailing like a wounded animal caught in a snare, desperate to flee but unable to for how his body betrayed him. Cazador mocked and praised him as he screamed: “what a voice you have, my boy. Such sweet music you make as I rend you. Your cries are the loveliest of all your brethren, you know. They make my soul revive with the anguish of your body beneath my hand. How pathetic you are, truly.”

Eventually, when the night was all but spent, the deed was done and the blade was removed from his flesh. Astarion whimpered pitifully, delirious from the pain and weak from so much blood lost. He was unbound and without care Cazador compelled, “begone now my vile creature, my sundered spawn. Back where you belong.”

Astarion slid slowly and gracelessly off the table, crumpling to the floor in a bloody heap. He paused only a moment before pushing himself to his feet with a groan, inhuman strength born of a long cultivated terror forcing him upright even through his wretched sobs. Every movement gave a fresh shot of pain to his nerve endings as he staggered his way out of his master’s chambers, collapsing to the floor of the hallway as the door swung magically shut behind him. How long he lay there, he could not say. Eventually he was aware of hands on him, of torches flickering and his own feet dragging across the floor, of a straw pillow beneath his head and the smell of blood in his nostrils, on his lips, down his throat. He swallowed desperately, nearly choking on the acrid liquid, feeling it course through his dry veins once more. It returned some of his vigour and with it sensation, the pain coming back to him in agonizing clarity.

That night, like many others before and after it, he wished he would have chosen death instead of accepting this cursed existence. But such choices had never been his to make then. And perhaps it was meant this way, to lead him to this moment for redemption. For revenge. A chance to choose, to see vengeance done, finally. And maybe not, maybe it is all folly. But he has to at least try.

He opens his eyes again, looking at Zoia as the connection severs between them, gauging their reaction. The vision is a risk, a vulnerability much deeper than the talk they had so many weeks ago in the wood, but it’s necessary if he is to convince them to aid him in this.

She looks pained, angry, in grief. Their hand twitches toward his own but doesn’t grasp it, and a small part of him wishes for the touch even though he knows he would spurn it in this moment. Perhaps she senses this too, their minds still tethered with delicate strings.

“So, now you know the whole sordid thing. And more of why I need to stop him. If what Raphael said is true, a vampire like Cazador can’t be allowed to wield the kind of power he seeks. I won’t let him have that glory after all the centuries of torture and depravity he inflicted on me. I have to kill him, I will kill him. I’m just… not sure I can do it alone, much as I’m loath to admit it.” He looks away from them, conflicted and bitter, smaller than his words would have him seem.

The impulse finally wins out, an opening sensed despite the thorny exterior he exudes, and Zoia steps carefully closer into his space, a hand tentatively settling on his arm. He tenses but doesn’t flinch away, brows furrowing deeper and eyes clouding with an aura of wetness that never fully materializes. He looks up again, meets her eyes with a challenging defiance, daring them to mock him for his plea for help in this grave matter. But she doesn’t, only holds up a hand for him to take, and when he does they pull it to their lips with a reverent kiss. “You have me and will never be alone so long as you let me stay with you. You will kill Cazador and I will be there by your side when you do it. That is my promise to you.”

His defensive front breaks then, crumbling away to leave only awe and relief in his crimson eyes. He falters, at a loss to reply to such an oath given when none before have ever thought to swear anything to him in kindness or loyalty. “You are astonishing to me, truly. I… thank you. Thank you.” He lays his free hand on their face and leans in, resting his cool cheek to hers in a simple act of intimacy, of gratitude. He whispers, “I don’t… I’m afraid I am not worthy of the faith you have in me…”

“You are worth everything to me,” Zoia whispers back as she pulls away to smile at him, their faces still close in confidence. “I had hoped you would know that by now. Just let me remain with you, Star, that’s all I want.” His breath shudders quietly, emotion swelling before he reigns in it, keeps that mask on still, but Zoia knows their words have found a home in his heart.

He nods lightly, acknowledging without words, and plants a gentle kiss to their cheek. Then he turns away with a final squeeze of hands to rejoin the group once more. He coughs to get their attention and dons a roguish grin. “Well! I suppose you all best prepare yourselves then. It would seem on top of everything else transpiring, we’ve got a vampire lord to slay for Baldur’s Gate, too. And I don’t know about you, but I would really like a new set of knives for the occasion.”

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magic-is-something-we-create · 1 year

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Goddess-Touched Snippet - (6/?)

Word count: 640

Content warnings: First-person depiction of compulsions/behavioral tics; food mention; brash discussion of death/murder; implied drug use and excessive swearing.

POV: Nimbus

In which Nimbus struggles to adjust to the ways of the Lell.

Jett spins idly back and forth in their chair while they twist a toothpick between their fangs, eyes glued to the holoscreens thrown haphazardly across the wall as I find myself once again tapping the long-gone passcode to Beta’s workshop into the door of a cabinet before I open it. A brief glance inside yields none of the things I was hoping for--maple candies, jerky, dried fruits, anything to chew over and over--and my fingers, again, slip into the locking code when I close the door, and dance across the next in the same pattern.

Goddesses, why can’t I open anything without a reminder?

The legs of the stool beyond the nearest archway scrape against the floor as Beta returns from his venture into the foyer of the bunker, a pipe in hand. Somewhere beyond that, the door to the canyon hisses open for the twelfth time today, a gust of wind sending a pitter-patter of sand over the floor as Xiv shakes her helmet out and cusses just low enough for me to get the gist without understanding a word.

Nothing here, either. Tap again, swipe the invisible dismissal. Drum out the shape of a crow in flight, forget that there’s no knobs on the door, drum it again just to be sure. Open it, greet my own disappointment in the reflections of metal cans.

“Councillor Andor’s dead,” Jett tosses over their shoulder, still spinning, the toothpick abandoned on the desk before them.

Beta coughs. “That fuck was still on the Consul?”

“His kid,” Jett corrects, rubbing a knuckle into their gums from over their lips. “Got challenged, got cocky, got a hole in their head.”

“They find who did it?” I ask, finally reaping the reward of my impulse-led fingers in the form of a tree-gum candy from the first cabinet I searched and that I knew I hadn’t put the code into quite right.

“Hm?” Jett lets their chair’s momentum spin them around to face me as I finally tuck the little distraction between my teeth and as Xiv tracks red dust in on her shoes. “Find who?”

“The killer.”

Xiv snorts, blue-lensed goggles still obscuring her eyes as she shakes the dust out of her dual-toned hair. “Why? Andor lost. That’s that.”

My gaze drifts back to Jett, who’s also now looking at me like I’ve grown a second head or blurted an obviously wrong answer in front of the class or dared to entertain the thought of turning a rebel in for a bounty and suddenly I’m wondering what, exactly, has gone wrong. Where the disconnect happened, where the comma was misplaced in the code, where I switched the order of operations.

But Beta butts in, hand waving towards the other two with a dismissive laziness. “Senator Andor was challenged to a duel. If they didn’t agree, it’d be murder, but they did. They knew they could die, and some sort of honor made that worth it to them. Nothing to persecute in there.”

My mind stutters, blinking back to his story of adultery and vengeance. “But... didn’t you do the same thing and get banished?”

Jett cackles. “Fuck, no! Murder wouldn’t get ‘im banished, either, but he dug up the shit list for every goddamn senator on Gyr’s Consul and aired it across the city on hijacked speakers. We had to elect a whole new fuckin’ Consul from scratch after it hit the air, and their first action was gettin’ his ass as far away as possible so he couldn’t do it again. Kickin’ him out was easier ‘n keeping him locked up.”

“... Oh.”

Xiv smirks, and with a flourish of her floating prosthetic wrist, tosses her helmet onto the table behind me. “Told you. Ol’ Prick’s an off-flavor madman.”

“I still don’t know what that means.”

“Sucks to suck.”

#writeblr #writblr #am writing #original fiction #writing excerpt #scifi #the millennium saga #goddess-touched #snip #q #death mention #cw compulsion

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ruinestagehouse · 2 years

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I'm getting a little sick of my brain randomly generating medical emergencies.

"You are having a stroke."

"I think this is pneumothorax!"

"You have a cyst on your ovary."

No, you utter cunt. I heard something rip close to my head. I'm having a panic attack. I'm ovulating because I'm two weeks late on my T Shot.

For the love of Saints, I'm getting my brain checked for OCD because this thing comes up with a new medical emergency every 2-3 business days and I'm getting tired of the intrusive "your mother is going to kill you, your father, and your brother" thoughts that come if I don't spin around in my little office chair or suck my thumb.

I don't mean to self diagnose, but at some point you have to hear wings flapping and wonder if there's a flock of seagulls in your general vicinity.

#OpenDistrict #Mental Health #cw homicide mention #cw obsession #cw compulsion #I don't know what my brain is doing but I frankly cannot stand it.

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leftski-art · 5 months

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Finally getting around to sharing my character for a Pathfinder campaign I'm currently part of!

He's a Gargoyle Bloodrager who drowned at sea and was later resurrected by the goddess who resides within it to act as her emissary

#body horrow cw #gargoyle #dungeons and dragons #d&d #pathfinder #original character #finished #leftski art #now he's got cool ocean powers #and coral formations to fill in the parts of him that eroded while underwater #also a compulsion to do the goddess's bidding even when it involves bullshit he don't wanna do

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mossymandibles · 17 hours

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I’m very frustrated with myself.

#im going to end up with a scabby unibrow #Ive plucked my eyebrows and the beginning roots of my eyebrows in front of every mirror in the house #not ALL of my eyebrows mind you I still have some sense of vanity #my brain is like hey it’s not healthy to spend the entirety of the day inside drawing #so it’s Compulsion Time™️#its either that or picking my shoulders till I bleed #again #and again #dermatillomania #cw dermatillomania #not art

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nagichi-boop · 1 year

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If you use “narcissist” as an adjective, I will immediately lose a degree of respect for you. The only use case that is acceptable for this word is to factually refer to someone who has NPD. Use a different word like egotistical, self-cantered, selfish, etc. instead of throwing around the name of a literal disorder to describe someone. This is especially annoying cuz people tend to exclusively use it to describe someone who has abused them in their lives. I’m very sorry if you have been abused, but it’s still no excuse. People can be abusive jerks regardless of whether they have NPD or any other disorder.

To me, it’s no different to someone saying “I’m very ocd about this” cuz they like things to be orderly. Another situation where you can very easily reword the sentence to avoid casually using a debilitating disorder as a quirky adjective. Though arguably calling someone a narcissist is worse because it pretty much exclusively is used as a way to negatively describe someone, often an abuser.

I could go on, but hopefully you get the point. Just…don’t use mental disorders as adjectives.

#npd #narcissistic personality disorder #cluster b #personality disorders #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #cw ableism #rant #nagichi talks

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lestatslestits · 5 months

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THIS is what I mean when I say that OCD is a fucking punchline to most people.

Monk felt fucking inescapable throughout the aughts. If you had OCD, you probably got called Monk. If someone you knew did something that they considered “OCD,” they probably compared themselves to Monk. It’s an incredibly narrow repetition of what OCD is but it was THE pop culture touchstone at the time. Sometimes it felt like a life raft and sometimes it felt like drowning, but it was always there. I’ll likely never work out all of my complex thoughts and feelings about it.

But it ended in 2009. Seeing these same jokes still being made fourteen years later (and, frankly, seeing hand sanitizer at a large public event get treated as some kind of haha funny overkill thing after years of surviving the COVID-19 pandemic) makes me feel so sick.

#ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #actually ocd #actually obsessive #monk #adrian monk #actuallyocd #actuallyobsessive #ableism cw #unsanitary cw #if you clown on this post i will block you so fast your head will spin

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seventh-district · 4 months

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OCD will literally remove your brain's ability to register when a task is Complete and then create 10,000 incredibly ridiculous and extremely specific rules for you to follow in every single aspect of your life (to keep you safe, of course, it tells you.) and then tells you that if you don’t do them Correctly and Completely every single time it tells you to (it tells you countless times per day) then the Entire Fucking World Will End and then it’ll do this fucked up thing where it makes you believe that nonsense.

and then people that don’t have it will make silly little jokes about being soooooo OCD and make t-shirts with fun little acronyms on them like Obsessive Coffee Disorder and tell you how much they like it when things are organized and clean, too!!

and then you’re supposed to just. laugh. like you haven’t been robbed of your entire being and potential and been taken over by a mind and life altering disability

#PSA: don’t fucking tell me to Seek Therapy or Try Medication. i am Aware. i have Tried. it isn’t that fucking simple #and this is my blog. i’ll complain about my illnesses all i want to. if you don’t like it i strongly encourage you to unfollow me #ocd #actually ocd #cw ocd #cw mental illness #mental health stuff #Seven.txt #Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is actually SO goddamn insidious. and only ppl that have lived with it will understand that #it’s a terrible terrible thing. to have something ruin your entire life under the guise of keeping you safe #it’s like being abused by your own mind and i don’t say that lightly #okay. stopped crying long enough to get this post out of my brain and onto my blog #gonna put Walking Disaster on loop and return to my Mental Illness Floor Time now #if no one hears from me for a little while it’s not personal i just. need to not be a Person right now. i’m so tired

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squidong · 8 months

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I saw someone insisting ADHD never impacts anyone’s dietary habits, and now I’m curious what people actually experience.

This is about things like skipping meals because you don’t realize you’re hungry, or snacking even though you’re stuffed because you hope the food will give you the boost you need to get this one task finished.

#I’m the ‘compulsive snacker because I’m self medicating’ category #it’s ruined my relationship with food. m&ms feel like medicine now.#adhd #actuallyadhd #actually adhd #diet culture cw #food cw #polls

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neurosky · 7 months

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I had a small win over ARFID and OCD today!!

So, a little backstory for this to make sense, ARFID causes me to be extremely picky with foods out of fear of throwing up, to the point where I eat the same things every day, and have been my whole life. My OCD makes me worry about throwing up as well, but that makes me do or avoid certain things in order to not throw up.

I really wanted caesar salad earlier, and the only salad kit we had had a "guaranteed fresh" date for about a week ago. Usually, I just wouldn't eat it, but this time I decided that I really wanted this salad, and the lettuce still looked fine. So, I pushed past the thoughts of "What if I throw up? What if it's bad?" and I ate it anyway! And it was a really fucking good salad!!

#kinda proud of myself ngl #in my mind any dates on any food = I WILL throw up if I eat this #it doesn't matter if it's a sell by date or an expiration date #or if it's on crackers or milk #it's all the same to me #but i pushed through it!!#cw ed mention #tw throwing up #arfid #avoidant restrictive food intake disorder #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #chronic illness #actually chronically ill #emetophobia

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hamartia-grander · 10 months

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So funny to me when I'm explaining to my parents the habits I have that are a result of my spiralling anxiety and paranoia and my father goes "yeah I do that too, that's normal" as if we're not literally both diagnosed with OCD and our actions are very much not normal

#He's so fucking stupid #'you're so much like your dad' gee I wonder why???#Surely we don't both have a mental disorder that influences our thoughts and behaviours????#Ocd #cw ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder

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transandrophobiatruther · 2 years

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"if you think bad thoughts youre going to hell" should be considered child abuse

#op hates trans men and transmascs so my post now babes #abuse #abuse tw #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #<- truly believe this contributed to me having ocd now 😔#child abuse #child abuse cw #mental illness #intrusive thoughts

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dyspunktional-revan · 1 month

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Stop fucking lying to folx about what intrusive thoughts are. They do not have to be about “harming oneself or others” (in ways that *you* think are Objectively Harmful, not what might be harm to oneself to the individual experiencing them, of course, yea). They do not even have to be about actions at all.

Intrusive thoughts are your brain picking a theme that distresses you the most and bombarding you with thoughts about it because it thinks it’s protecting you from it that way (basically like an allergic reaction). That can be anything for anyone. And you don’t fucking get to decide what is distressing or non-distressing for others.

#leviathan yells at folkel #leviathan.txt #intrusive thoughts #disabilityposting #ocd #actually ocd #mental illness #intra disabled ableism #swearing cw #obsessive compulsive disorder #obsessive compulsive spectrum

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8bityinyang · 6 months

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How to Avoid Reblog Bait on Tumblr (as someone who is distressed by it)

(cw: discussion of reblog bait, demonstrative use of compulsive language)

Reblog bait is Tumblr's main form of share-bait, which is content online that pressures users into sharing post content to avoid harm to themselves, to avoid harm to those they care about, or to avoid being seen as a bad person.

Post content to filter out or be aware of if you are also distressed by reblog bait include but are not limited to:

reblogs > likes

follows > likes

I know you see this

keep reblogging

please reblog

please share

must reblog

obligated to reblog

sample size

reblog if

obligated to reblog

ignore for

Tumblr posts will often tag reblog bait with the tag "#reblog bait" or similar tags like "#tw reblog bait", "cw reblog bait", "reblog bait tw", and more.

Reblog bait content is unfortunately most common on awareness posts, which often have important information to share but unfortunately end up inaccessible to those distressed by reblog bait due to the moral pressures put onto these users to avoid being a bad person.

With this, and especially as someone who's all too familiar with what it's like to feel pressured by share-bait (which I've had to manage since my first exposure to share-bait when I was 12 years old), I would say these messages to those who are also affected by share-bait:

You are not a bad person for not sharing reblog bait.

You will not get harmed in any way for not sharing reblog bait, nor will anyone you care about get harmed either.

You do not have to share online posts of any kind if you do not want to, this post included.

I hope that this post can help users with this because I know that a post like this would have helped me if I came across it when I first started using Tumblr.

#8bityinyang #important #cw compulsive language #tw compulsive language #awareness post #not reblog bait #anti reblog bait #compulsive language

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