fifty ➢ video ( cw bodyhorror )

[patheticvillain]

video

This is bullshit.

["This" being the black, silky ears he's sprouted in the wake of the flood. His long tail, equally black and twitching with irritation, pokes out from under his blanket, where he's curled up and sulking. The camera's at a skewed angle, balanced on the edge of his pillow.]

I just woke up like this. I didn't even do it. If it's gonna happen, I want to at least be the one to do it. I want . . .

[He trails off, his eyes distant and dull. When they snap back into focus, he sits up slowly, blankets falling around him, and narrows his eyes.]

It's supposed to hurt.

[And then he begins to change: skin rippling, body changing, limbs twisting. He grows a third arm, and then a fourth, the new ones vestigial, skinless, ugly. Growths emerge across his face, limning his high cheekbones. He curls up in the fetal position; you can hear bones crack, shift, curl, and break. All the while he's crying out in a dog's whine, an ugly helpless yet somehow angry noise. The blankets tangle around his shifting feet as they grow bark and tentacles and recede into stubs.]

[Eventually, endlessly, he is still. The ears and tail have gone completely.]

Comments

[mistconduct]

...I can't even tell what the fuck you are.

Jesus, Cassel. You okay?

[patheticvillain]

[He answers, sort of. Ragged breathing, a murmured syllable:] 's.

[mistconduct]

You want me to come over?

[patheticvillain]

's.

spam

[fridgetothefire]

[Oh, fucking hell. She doesn't bother answering when she sees the post, just shows up and lets herself in, with a lockpick if necessary, muttering under her breath, all gruff nervous gentleness as she comes to kneel beside him.

She's wearing a deep V-neck shirt, exposing bits of scar and tattoo and the slick, ruddy, beating heart that's grown on the outside of her chest.]

You'd better still have blood in there, because I'm going to need a little bit.

spam

[patheticvillain]

[His door was unlocked. No matter what he says, there is always a part of him that wants to leave his door open now; it's a sign of trust, unconscious sometimes, but always there. He trusts people on the Barge, and he knows they'll come looking for him.]

[Right this minute, though, he's a miserable ball of pain curled up on his bed, barely twitching when he feels Anya's breath on his hair.]

Dunno.

spam

[fridgetothefire]

This is probably going to hurt some more. It'll help if you can just hold on for me, I promise.

[The kind of gentleness that has no sweetness in it, hard and worn-smooth with necessity like a river stone. The knife in her hand is much larger than it needs to be, a long back stiletto the size of her forearm. She nicks him somewhere already raw, very lightly, and transfers the droplets of blood to her fingertips. She takes a deep breath and begins the recitation, the latin rolling off her tongue fast and sure.]

spam

[patheticvillain]

[It's the back of his neck, his spine half-showing, the skin growing back over it as he slowly uncurls. He winces, then leans against Anya bodily, his limbs trembling. He wants to interrupt, to tell her to stop, but he doesn't, he can't, does he even have lips? Does he have a tongue? Does he have teeth? Who or what is he, in the midst of all this pain, other than matter surrounding Anya's rock-solid voice?]

[thelastbullet]

Cassel? [He tries to keep the horrified tone out of his voice, because Cassel had done him that courtesy, a few weeks ago. Cassel sounds scared, but he's also capable of doing things Jimmy had no idea about. He's not sure how he could help, but he feels a little responsible, somehow, to at least try.]

Cassel, it ain't supposed to hurt. [He's quickly regaining his composure, his voice low and calm.]

[patheticvillain]

[His breath comes ragged. He's still curled up in a ball, his focus on the hot center of pain resting in his belly and spine.]

It is. It is. [He swears, he promises, it is.]

[thelastbullet]

No. [He sounds firm, certain of himself. Maybe, if he says it hard enough, Cassel will start to believe it.]

Whatever shit you went through, it's over now. It doesn't have to hurt anymore. [Christ, he hopes he's saying the right things.]

[patheticvillain]

It's always gonna hurt.

[Always, always, always, it's never stopped hurting, not when he graduated and not fucking now.]

audio

[darknessb4me]

That sounded interesting. I'm sorry I missed it.

audio

[patheticvillain]

[Some muffled gristly noises, then:] Fuck you.

fuck it I'm going with this

[americasdirtiest]

Cassel, what in the Animorph fuck--?

it's beautiful

[patheticvillain]

Shut up. What are you talking about? Shut up.

[americasdirtiest]

What the fuck did you do?

[patheticvillain]

I did work. It's just blowback. It doesn't matter.

[It hurts.]

[youwillgotohell]

This is bullshit.

[Except she sounds a little horrified, and looks it a little too.] What are you doing to yourself?

[patheticvillain]

It's just work.

cw reference to self harm

[youwillgotohell]

You're hurting yourself.

[The horror stays away from those words: there are a lot of reasons to hurt yourself, and Morgana knew her own. She wants to know his.]

cw reference to self harm

[patheticvillain]

It's just work, [he repeats, but there's no strength behind his declaration. She knows the truth, and he can't run away from her like that.]

[semifreakingnormal]

[Doubt has been choking him. He wants to say no, stop, but how can he keep anyone safe? Even from themselves?

But he can't stay silent, either, even though he sounds miserable when he speaks.]

You don't have to do that.

[patheticvillain]

You don't know what I have to do.

[semifreakingnormal]

Okay.

[Okay? It's not okay, none of this is okay, and Scott can't work his own internal chastising onto something useful. It's like he's only screaming in his own head.]