#like shuffling cards or stitching a wound

[thedeal-if]

How would the ROs comfort an MC who is having a moment of inadequacy and feels that they've failed their departed parents.

Hurt/comfort scenarios 😭💕

I've been forced to take some liberties 👁️ there are quite a few chances for MC to express (if they do feel that way) this kind of worry to the ROs so—

Oh, you can tell the guy is struggling. Do Demons have parents? Parental figures? Where do Demons come from? Dante’s face scrunched up when you mentioned your own parents— the implication is clear, he has no clue what you’re talking about.

“Hm— I don’t get it, no,” and Dante adds “I don’t get why you’re worried. But I wanna help.”

Dante bites his lip, thinking hard.

“I don’t get it. But you’re amazing!” he says passionately, he waves a hand in your direction “And we’re going out to do something right now!”

“Oh, love,” Lilith pouts a little, fiddles with her hands. She opens her arms and wraps them around you, hugging you as if she could squeeze your worries away “I know it’s not the same, but I’m very proud of you.”

Lilith smiles, she presses a chaste kiss to your cheek and wipes the lipstick stain with her thumb.

“Do you know what will make you feel better?” the Succubus grins with an airy chuckle “I can make you some comfort (favorite food)! Or, well, I can try for you.”

Josh, who lived and grieved your parents’ passing right by your side, looks like a wounded man whose stitches have ripped open.

You probably provide a similar picture.

Maybe this is a thought that you’ve shared with him before, or maybe you’ve never really bothered to put that pain into words. Josh reaches out towards you mid-tirade, he intertwines your fingers together and squeezes lightly.

“Tell me how you feel, okay? Vent a little,” Josh suggests.

You barely get the words out, Villanelle listens attentively, hugs you tight and says:

“We should ask the cards.”

Villanelle gives you virtually no time to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, she’s already found a flat surface and is pulling the tarot deck out of her bag. Her excitement at the prospect of being of help is endearing at best, whether the cards work or not.

The witch shuffles, shuffles, cards fall and are flipped over, Villanelle hums in acknowledgment, nodding sagely until she apparently sees a message laid in front of her.

“You are loved and you are trying your best,” she says kindly, barely gazing at the cards, eyes locked into yours “I don’t think you could ever do them wrong. It’s sad that you’re not confident about that.”

Victor listens to all you need to vent, nods along until you have nothing left to say, and you can practically see the moment discomfort tenses his entire figure like he’s a mannequin.

“Were your parents that kind of people?”

You shrug a little. To seek the practicality of a situation you’re already fairly sure is majorly irrational seems a little unfair.

You acknowledge that fact to him, “There’s no logic to it, I just— It sucks.”

Victor frowns, clearly not understanding, but still displeased at seeing you upset about it. One of his big hands falls on your shoulder, he pats it once, then twice, and then Victor’s fingers squeeze lightly, fondly.

Aliyah, the epitome and physical manifestation of the definition of tough love, looks at you with a little snort.

“It seems to me that you’re disappointed in yourself, am I right?” she smirks a little like being right means more to Aliyah than the actual content of her words “Blaming them is much easier than admitting it. So? That’s it? You’re doing nothing with your life and expect it all to get better by being a crybaby about it?”

You glare at Aliyah. Her lack of filter… it’s always been quite annoying. Maybe you’re wrong— calling her the epitome of ‘tough love’ puts the concept of ‘tough’ to shame, and turns ‘love’ into flagellation.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Aliyah snorts “Tell me what’s really wrong, we can fix it.”

Nathan’s initial reaction to your problems is to offer a little—forced—laugh, restlessly pointing from himself to you, then to himself and to you again.

“You and I— We should make a club,” Nathan says. You frown a little at his words. He explains, “The old guy upstairs, y’know. And I’m— Well. Me. C’mon, as comparisons go, you have nothing to worry about.”

Perhaps you’re not a celestial being losing divinity, but your very human problems have a very human way of consuming your brain. Nathan doesn’t seem to understand that, but he sees you’re still sad, he tries again.

“We should do something,” he says with a cheeky smile “I bet I can cheer you up.”

A sharp intake of breath on your part has Eden tilting her head, “What is it this time?” she asks. Her inflection is neutral, but not mean, filled with measured curiosity.

“The usual,” you shrug, self-deprecating smile speaking louder than you could “You know.”

Eden hums quietly, eyes flickering away, she thinks for a few seconds, and she looks at you.

“Let’s go do something,” she says simply, already setting in motion, almost impulsively “It’ll get your mind off of things.”

[turnandface]

bold what your muse can do. italicize for something they can do to some extent.— JEAN-HERON VICQUEMARE

bake a cake from scratch. ride a horse. drive a submarine. speak a second language. dance. catch a fish. play an instrument. throw a punch. build a deck. ice skate. unclog a drain. program a computer. change a flat tire. fire a gun. sew. juggle. play poker. paint. fly a kite. sculpt. write poetry. *change a diaper. *sing. shoot a bow and arrow. ride a bike. swim. sail a boat. do a backflip. play chess. give cpr. pitch a tent. flirt. stitch a wound. read palms. use chopsticks. write in cursive. calligraphy. use an electric drill. braid hair. make a campfire.

make a mixed drink. do sudoku puzzles. wrap a gift. give a good massage. jump start a car. roll their tongue. do magic tricks. do yoga. tie a tie. skip a rock. shuffle a deck of cards. read morse code. pick a lock. fly a plane. train animals. fix a car. apologize. write a business letter. write in a second language. say the alphabet backwards. read music. cook complex meals. change oil. paint nails. draw. socialize. march. take apart a gun. drive a rig. operate a tank. climb a tree. rock climb. tie a cherry stem. basic first aid. draw blood. put out a fire.

*verse dependent

tagged by @stqrlings tagging @coinquinatvs (Henry & Miller) @claochlu (Olive) @downs1de (Rust) @dutyworn & whoever else would like to! (tag me!)

[silverjetsystm]

WHAT CAN YOUR MUSE DO ?

BOLD what your muse can do. Italicize for something they can do to some extent. Repost!! Do not reblog!!

bake a cake from scratch / ride a horse / drive a submarine / speak a second language / dance / catch a fish / play an instrument / throw a punch / build a deck / ice skate [and ski] / unclog a drain / program a computer / change a flat tire / fire a gun / sew / juggle / play poker / paint / fly a kite / sculpt / write poetry / change a diaper [obvs in ATOM&S but likely nowhere else] / sing / shoot a bow and arrow / ride a bike / swim / sail a boat / do a backflip / play chess / give cpr / pitch a tent / flirt / stitch a wound / read palms / use chopsticks / write in cursive / calligraphy / use an electric drill / braid hair / make a campfire / make a mixed drink / do sudoku puzzles / wrap a gift / give a good massage / jump start a car / roll their tongue / do magic tricks / do yoga / tie a tie / skip a rock / shuffle a deck of cards / read morse code / pick a lock / fly a plane / train animals / fix a car / apologize / write a business letter / write in a second language / say the alphabet backwards / read music / cook complex meals / change oil / paint nails / draw / socialize / march / take apart a gun / drive a rig / operate a tank / climb a tree / rock climb / tie a cherry stem / basic first aid / draw blood / put out a fire

[darkestrellar]

BOLD what your muse can do. REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch *(1) | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain *(2) | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun *(3) | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a backflip | play chess | give cpr *(4) | pitch a tent *(4) | flirt | stitch a wound *(4) | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive/calligraphy | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink *(5) | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage *(5) | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks *(5) | yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

Tagged by @mirroredranger!

Any bolded skill is either something Svern can definitely do and has done repeatedly before, or is something that I'm confident that he is able to do even if it's something he hasn't done as frequently.

Additional notes (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) under the cut.

*(1) Idk if this means with or without a recipe, or if it means a full cake recipe VS a packet cake. At any rate, although his cooking skills are underdeveloped, Svern would be able to make some uncomplicated types of cakes if he has a recipe / instructions to follow. If he doesn't have a recipe, it would depend if he's ever tried to do it before. If he's done something once he can replicate it again, but if not, he can't.

*(2) Assuming it's just a regular amount of clogged and not so badly clogged that you'd need to call an entire plumber in to deal with it.

*(3) I didn't include this because I don't think he can (skilfully) do this in his Pokémon verses, but he can in verses like DtB and BSD.

*(4) For these, I think he either has learned how to do them or would be able to easily figure it out with little extra practise necessary (pitch a tent), but they are skills that he probably hasn't put to real use much yet / at all, so I'm not wholly confident in bolding them.

*(5) These are skills I can see him learning, or having had interest in trying to learn in the past, but I'm not sure to what extent he would be skilled at them so I'm not confident in outright bolding them.

[immolatiism]

repost, do not reblog.

bold what your muse can do. italicize for something they can do to some extent

bake a cake from scratch / ride a horse / drive a submarine / speak a second language / dance / catch a fish / play an instrument / throw a punch / build a deck / ice skate / unclog a drain / program a computer / change a flat tire / fire a gun / sew / juggle / play poker / paint / fly a kite / sculpt / write poetry / change a diaper / sing / shoot a bow and arrow / ride a bike / swim / sail a boat / do a backflip / play chess / give cpr / pitch a tent / flirt / stitch a wound / read palms / use chopsticks / write in cursive / calligraphy / use an electric drill / braid hair / make a campfire / make a mixed drink / do sudoku puzzles / wrap a gift / give a good massage / jump start a car / roll their tongue / do magic tricks / do yoga / tie a tie / skip a rock / shuffle a deck of cards / read morse code / pick a lock / fly a plane / train animals / fix a car / apologize / write a business letter / write in a second language / say the alphabet backwards / read music / cook complex meals / change oil / paint nails / draw / socialize / march / take apart a gun / drive a rig / operate a tank / climb a tree / rock climb / tie a cherry stem with tongue / basic first aid / draw blood / put out a fire

tagged: stolen from @thuganomxcs tagging: @goresugars (Lye), @thawingiceprincess, @divineslcyer, @theunknownmasks (Kurama), and anyone else who feels like it!

[monterraverde]

BOLD what your muse can do. REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language* | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate** | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a backflip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive/calligraphy | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

* = Can speak three actually

** = Has never done it but would take to it like a fish

[liecoris]

repost,  do  not  reblog.

bold  what  your  muse  can  do.      italicize  for  something  they  can  do  to  some  extent. ㅤ 

bake  a  cake  from  scratch  /  ride  a  horse  /  drive  a  submarine  /  speak  a  second  language  /  dance  /  catch  a  fish  /  play  an  instrument  /  throw  a  punch  /  build  a  deck  /  ice  skate  /  unclog  a  drain  /  program  a  computer  /  change  a  flat  tire  /  fire  a  gun  /  sew  /  juggle  /  play  poker  /  paint  /  fly  a  kite  /  sculpt  /  write  poetry  /  change  a  diaper  /  sing  /  shoot  a  bow  and  arrow  /  ride  a  bike  /  swim  /  sail  a  boat  /  do  a  backflip  /  play  chess  /  give  cpr  /  pitch  a  tent  /  flirt  /  stitch / heal  a  wound  /  read  palms  /  use  chopsticks  /  write  in  cursive  /  calligraphy  /  use  an  electric  drill  /  braid  hair  /  make  a  campfire  /  make  a  mixed  drink  /  do  sudoku  puzzles  /  wrap  a  gift  /  give  a  good  massage  /  jump  start  a  car  /  roll  their  tongue  /  do  magic  tricks  /  do  yoga  /  tie  a  tie  /  skip  a  rock  /  shuffle  a  deck  of  cards  /  read  morse  code  /  pick  break a  lock  /  fly  a  plane  /  train  animals  /  fix  a  car  /  apologize  /  write  a  business  letter  /  write  in  a  second  language  /  say  the  alphabet  backwards  /  read  music  /  cook  complex  meals  /  change  oil  /  paint  nails  /  draw  /  socialize  /  march  /  take  apart  a  gun  /  drive  a  rig  /  operate  a  tank  /  climb  a  tree  /  rock  climb  /  tie  a  cherry  stem with tongue  /  basic  first  aid  /  draw  blood  /  put  out  a  fire

tagged by: @darksonofsparda ( thank you! ) tagging: whoever would like to do this/feel free to yoink this from me <3

[troublewithvampires]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent.

REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

tagged by: @swxpped

tagging (with no pressure to any of y'all): @bdybag (for prox), @modestmuses (for akali), @rejectshumanity, @bxtsence (for viridian), @nefariuus (for yves), aaaaaaaaand @smokes-and-bullets! and anyone else who'd like to steal this <3

[savedpeople]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent. strikeout what they can't at all.

REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

Tagged by: @wexarethewalkingxdead like... a year ago Tagging: whoever would like to do this

[lostintra]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent. strikeout what they can't at all. **REPOST, don’t reblog**

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks| write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

TAGGED BY: @thefvrious TAGGING: @somethingscft for elise, @wutheringdevotion for neesh, @fadinglights for yuna, @turkishdclights for yasmin, @bluejeanbaby for ben, @ofginjxints for abigail, and anyone else who would like to

[letsbenditlikebennett]

TIMING: Beginning of September PARTIES: @kadavernagh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: When Regan finds out that Alex was shot and refuses to go to a hospital, the medical examiner finally, and after much exasperation, tells her to come by the morgue to get her wound checked out. CONTENT: Self harm

The whole way over to the morgue, Alex reasoned with herself that this was a better call than going to a hospital. She was pretty sure that hospitals had to report gunshot wounds and the new additions would likely raise more questions than she truly wanted to answer. She’d toyed around with the idea of not going to the morgue at all, but after the full moon hit, that wasn’t really an option unless she wanted to tell Kaden she’d all but beat herself up in the bunker and opened her own stitches. 

Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. The restless energy that had coursed through the werewolf the previous night was There had been no sitting still after she’d gone through all of her prey and was left with a suffocating, empty bunker. Somehow that energy manifested in the form of an itch she couldn’t quite scratch and an inability to sit still. The scrapes, scratches, and bruises that painted her limbs had been evidence last night’s full moon had been anything but normal. She wasn’t sure what Dr. Kavanagh would make of it, but what was important was that Kaden was none the wiser. Alex knew her cousin would find a way to blame himself for it somehow. 

The morgue had that clean chemical smell to it as she made her way toward Regan’s office. Even the chill in the air felt pretty standard for what the facility was meant for. Alex didn’t think keeping dead bodies in a hot building would be fun for anyone involved. Something about the death made her a little uneasy considering the role it had been playing in her life lately, but this was a doctor’s visit… which somehow was not any better. She waved uncertainly toward the receptionist. “I’m here to see a Dr. Kavanagh?” 

The call from Marcy was expected though not entirely welcome. “There’s a young lady here to see you. She limped in. I’m pretty sure she’s not dead yet, so I don’t know why she’s asking for you. You ever going to explain that to me? While you’re at it, if you’re seeing live patients, can you check out a mole on my shoulder?” Regan shuffled through the list of possibilities in her head and landed on precisely who this must have been. Kaden’s child cousin. Alex. Possibly with a bullet in her body. The thought was a wave of ice and reminded her to steel herself. She had seen far worse in the living and especially in the dead, and her equanimity could not waver.

In the lobby, there was once again only one possibility of who was there to see her. Regan wished for not the first time that she could shed this cinniúint-thréigean coat. “Come.” She didn’t look at the child beyond the flash of red hair she’d caught in the corner of her eye, though she wanted to observe her. The chilly reception (or at least chillier than usual) was petty, she knew, but the morgue was not a hospital, and it was maddening that the Langley family seemed to treat it like one. Kaden was putain enough. Now there were two. 

“Cad tá mé ag dul a dhéanamh leat?” Regan found herself muttering a question Cliodhna had muttered herself on a near daily basis, regarding her granddaughter with worn resignation. Regan had understood the question to really mean, “what good are you?” when it had been directed at her. Outside her office, she finally turned to meet the child’s eyes. She was young, but the tight expression on her face – masking pain, Regan thought – and dotting of scrapes and contusions across her skin suggested she was older than her years. Regan’s eyes narrowed, though not unkindly. She carded the door open. “Sit down, explain everything to me, and give me a very good reason why I should not be sending you to the hospital.”

The medical examiner was not a particularly large woman, but the way she moved around and commanded respect made her seem larger than life. It made Alex feel smaller than she already was, which was pretty damn small considering she’d been the same height since she was like eleven years old. She supposed she also shouldn’t have been thrown off by the cold way the doctor addressed her either, but something about it still made her wince and hold on tighter to the edges of the flannel she had all but wrapped around herself at that point. Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t even overly harsh. Her eyes definitely weren’t cruel, the werewolf just already felt exposed. Ashamed. Because hadn’t she been taught to tend to her own wounds like Andy and Kaden had? 

“Hospitals are for humans,” Alex answered as if it was obvious. It was a show, but not a very good one. Her fingers fumbled over the hem of the green plaid and she knew she’d need to give a better answer than that. This had been a bad idea, but the full moon had only made things worse. “Kaden mentioned the mutated animal thing. When I was shot, I didn’t look like a person. I look like one now… but I’m still not.” 

The word monster was practically at the tip of her tongue, but Alex wasn’t sure that one wouldn’t get her carted right off to the hospital. She wasn’t entirely sure how much Regan knew, but some of her oddities seemed to indicate she should know something. Especially considering she probably saw some pretty strange deaths. She shifted nervously on her feet and only slightly cringed when the movement caused pain. “Uh,” she started, “Everything… well, I was… mutated. And someone shot me. Then the full moon happened and I lock myself in a bunker so mutated me doesn’t…” 

She looked down at her feet. Alex couldn’t even speak what she knew she was capable of. “Think I had a bit of a panic attack while mutated,” she mumbled, not quite meeting Dr. Kavanagh’s eyes as she rolled up her sleeves to show various bruises, scrapes, and scratches, “My cla– nails get really long. That’s the uh… scratches.” 

What were the odds the doctor would buy that one? It was the truth, but the truth was often harder to believe than a really good lie. 

“They are, yes, and I’m not about to do any procedures that couldn’t be done on a human.” Regan rolled her eyes. Why did everyone think they were some exception to going to the hospital? Why people thought they weren’t human was another question, but one Regan knew she wasn’t going to move the needle on. “Just as morgues are for humans, by the way. But for whatever reason you find this more palatable, and I just want you examined by someone.”

But with some recent context, Alex’s explanation made Regan’s thoughts immediately turn to Gael. This sounded like… what was it he’d called it? Wolfitis? No, lycanthropy. Did the two of them know each other? That question made her brow crease. Regan wasn’t sure she liked that, especially if this child was one of the people trying to spoon feed him all of this strange terminology, all of these lies. Gael had mentioned precisely this, though – someone who had locked themselves in a bunker and injured themselves in there.

Other questions cascaded from there. If Alex was shot because of this… mutation, and she had the same illness as Gael, could this have been the individual Gael was warned about, the one targeting people with this specific health condition? That was a sobering thought.

Regan realized she had been silent for some time. She gave the child a nod and stretched her gloves over her hands. The girl was nervous, almost trembling, and she had never been great at putting people at ease. Though Regan suspected some of it was that Alex was talking to a doctor about any of this at all. Perhaps she could help ameliorate that fear. “I might be familiar with your condition.” Regan looked down at her then took a seat across from the girl. She knew she’d need to be on her feet shortly, but she had learned in interacting with next of kin and patients that they felt more comfortable on the same level. “My condolences that you are afflicted. I am close to someone who–” With a jolt, she comprehended what had come out of her mouth, and she cleared her throat, wiggled uncomfortably in her coat. “I have an acquaintance who may have the same ailment. He handles it differently than you.” Regan waved a hand as if to dismiss any talk of Gael. Her stomach felt like a hot pit. Acquaintance was correct. Fearg an chinniúint, why had she not said that first?

As Alex rolled up her sleeves, it at least gave Regan something else to focus on. Something comfortable, something she knew. Something that wouldn’t dip into the unfamiliar territory of acquaintance-plus relationships. Regan surveyed the girl’s skin. Alex was pretty scraped up, pretty bruised, but Regan didn’t see anything demanding her attention. She spoke after a moment, not rudely, but also not dancing around the point. “We both know I’m not interested in seeing minor incised wounds on your extremities. Will you show me the gunshot wound?”

“Palatable,” Alex murmured, “Right…” She wasn’t exactly sure she considered this trip to the morgue palatable. If it hadn’t been for the way she chewed at her wound during the full moon, she wouldn’t be here at all despite the fact Dr. Kavanagh had practically demanded she come get checked out if she wasn’t going to a hospital. There was also no way in hell that Alex was willingly going to a hospital, so here she was at the morgue, letting Regan in all her tame exasperation check out the re-opened stitches that she refused to show Kaden. She wondered if doctor-patient confidentiality applied here because she’d really rather this not get back to Kaden, but Alex wasn’t so sure she should be pushing her luck here. 

Nerves made it hard for Alex to look up and meet the medical examiner’s eyes. Instead, her gaze wandered over the half packed boxes that were strewn across the office. She remembered Regan vaguely speaking of leaving when she had offered up those books, but that had felt like a whole lifetime ago. 

“You are familiar with it,” Alex perked up. It was hardly an admission that the doctor believed in the supernatural, but at least she thought it was plausible. Maybe that meant she didn’t think Alex was completely insane. “How does he handle it,” she asked, genuinely curious. Given her own debacle with the bunker this month, she knew she had to be open to ideas even if she wasn’t sure they’d actually be good ideas. 

It wasn’t surprising to Alex that the medical examiner wanted her to get right to showing her the worst of her injuries. The gunshot wound was why she was here and why Regan was frustrated with her for not seeing a doctor at a hospital. Still, she swallowed nervously as she pulled down the hem of the cargo pants she was wearing to reveal where the bullet had grazed her left hip. The stitches looked about as chewed through as they were and fresh blood had dried up around it. Even looking at it made her feel light-headed and she cursed herself. “Uh, this is it. Do I…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t recall ever having gone to an actual medical professional. 

“I’ll tell you about it shortly,” Regan said, knowing what lay ahead better than Alex, and knowing she’d be grateful for the distraction. “For now, just stay still.” She gave the site a careful look, as one might assess the virtues of a renowned painting in an art museum. To her, there was beauty in such an ugly thing. But the fact it was on a live human being tainted such a lovely show of anatomy. It was immediately clear that Alex should have gone to a hospital. But the wound could have been much worse, all things considered; the bullet had grazed her, not hitting bone or even really leaving a full entry wound. But any bullet at any distance could be lethal, or disfiguring at a minimum, and Regan was sure this one had caused great pain. 

And then there was the attempt to fix this. The sutures were chewed up, mangled, almost as bloodied a sight as the wound they were poorly tethering closed. They couldn’t have started off that way (even if they were poorly-applied then, too). It looked like an animal had done this. She was sure Alex wouldn’t give her the truth as to how this happened, even if perhaps she thought she was giving it. There was one other remarkable thing: the bubbling blisters surrounding the margins of the wound, as if the bullet that struck her had also burned her skin. It was true bullets were heated as they were fired, this appeared to be something more. Like her skin had rejected the material of the bullet. She thought of her own hands, scarred with iron discipline, and a connection was sparked only to be swiftly rejected. Alex was not fae.

Regan hissed a breath of air through her teeth and finally turned up and away from the wound, looking Alex in the face. “The good news is that there’s no sign of an infection. But… well, first of all, you need new stitches, which means removing the current ones, which will hurt considerably. I apologize in advance.” Alex wouldn’t want to be standing for that. And her wiggling would make things harder. Regan sighed, her eyes flicking over the table. At what point did it make sense for her to invest in a procedure chair for her office? That would be a fun one to explain to the higher ups. For now, she made due with pushing the table directly up against one of the chairs. It was a sturdy thing. It would hold. “Can you lie down on there? I’m going to apply new ones after I remove the old. Do you think you can keep still?”

“Appreciate it,” Alex responded kindly, “And I can manage that.” It might make her light-headed and nauseated, but she could sit still through the pain. Her parents had made certain of that even if she had never been graced with the accelerated healing to go along with the hunter training. It didn’t change the way her heart felt like it was pounding in her ears rather than her chest. She almost wished Dr. Kavanagh would explain now and put off the inevitable, but the wound the silver bullet left behind was the reason she was here. With how she chewed through the stitches, she wasn’t even sure it was in a state Kaden could deal with and she didn’t want him to. He’d only worry and that protective streak he had would only grow. 

Alex chewed at her bottom lip nervously as she watched Regan move one of the tables up to a chair. The office wasn’t set up for patients of the living variety which made sense considering it was a morgue. Somehow, that still seemed better than a hospital and the inevitable questions they would ask. Not that Regan didn’t have questions, but she seemed to consider the possibilities of mutants. Werewolves were kind of mutants, just not the superhero kind like Phoenix and Cyclops.

“Kind of figured,” she nodded, “Both on the new stitches and the pain. It’s fine.” It was not fine. As she sat down in the chair, she already felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms and across her brow. If her lip hadn’t gone right back to its place between her teeth she was fairly certain it would also be quivering. Even if she wore a brave face, Regan was a doctor. Physiological evidence would tell her everything she needed to know and it brought the werewolf a great deal of shame. If it wasn’t so damn sad, it’d almost be laughable that a monster was shaking in her boots over a medical examination. She laid down on the table and something about the fluorescents shining down made her want to crawl out of her skin again, but she was sure to stay still as a log. “Ok, I’m ready when you are,” she breathed out through gritted teeth. 

Regan worked swiftly and adeptly. And though Alex was shaking, she did eventually seem to calm herself down. It was easier once the worst was over – removing what remains of the old stitches. Putting the new ones in was easy by comparison, though Alex still wouldn’t appreciate the feel of the needle on what was still a rather raw wound. She wasn’t great at distracting patients during procedures – usually any distraction would fall on dead ears – but she would try. “That acquaintance I mentioned. He… camps.” That hardly sounded like a solution at all, saying it aloud. She wondered if it would sound just as foolish to Alex. “It might not be precisely the same ailment you’re dealing with. I don’t know if you sleepwalk. But he seems to think that things are better when he camps, rather than being confined to his bedroom.” Either way, though, Gael seemed to wake up with blood under his fingernails and a dead animal carcass or two nearby. 

As she finished up the last of the stitches, she seemed to grow heavier. Camping was helping. She wasn’t sure she could say the same anymore, given that Gael was attacked by some animal last time. Almost fatal. The maddening man thought he was lucky that the creature had just missed clamping down on his spine, but Regan didn’t believe in luck, and even if she did, what was lucky about almost dying? “I’m not suggesting you camp in the woods,” Regan clarified, “It didn’t go so well for him last time. There are too many dangerous animals lurking about. Bears. Coyotes. Screaming moose.”

While the explanation did little to clarify anything for Alex, listening to the medical examiner talk was a welcome distraction to the increasingly unbearable pain in her hip as the wound was tended to. Some of it sounded vaguely familiar. If asked, she would probably tell those who weren’t in the know about werewolves that she was going to be camping that night. It was close enough to the truth, hiking out deep into the woods to turn into wolf-monster and eat dinner/sleep was basically camping, was it not? The sleepwalking bit was curious and made her wonder if Gael was her acquaintance. “Camping,” she said through gritted teeth, “Wanted to give that a try myself.”

There were more questions, but none came to mind as Alex made a concentrated effort to remain still and keep her limbs from trembling. It worked well enough for her legs, but her hands were shaking under the sleeves of her jacket ever so slightly. So she let the thought of further questioning go until Regan finished up the last of the stitches. Even then, she needed a moment to recover and only barely caught the doctor saying that she didn’t recommend camping. 

“Not worried about coyotes and bears,” Alex explained, “Could live without the screaming moose, though I’ve never actually seen one scream.” It didn’t seem like the point. She knew Dr. Kavanagh was pointing out the dangers that lurked in the woods, but even with the context of her having some sort of mutation, she didn’t think the doctor realized that she was one of the dangers in the woods if she was out there. “Mutation kind of,” she trailed off, unsure of how to explain it, “Gives me some protection there. And me being deep out in the woods is a lot safer for everyone else. Mutation is… weird.” 

It’d be a lot easier to just say werewolf, but Alex wasn’t too sure how well that one would fly. “But you mentioned sleep-walking… the person you know doesn’t happen to be a chemistry professor, does he?” 

“Do you know who else thought they could deal with the coyotes and bears?” Alex probably saw where this was going but Regan continued anyway. “At least a hundred of my decedents, probably more. And I haven’t even worked here a full year yet.” Regan sometimes needed to remind herself that she had nothing to fear from anything, that no wild animal could harm her, but most people were the opposite; they held more confidence than they had the right. “Whatever capabilities you have were not enough to protect you from your assailant, nor whatever chewed you up after.” Nor Gael, from the animal that almost took his life last time he went camping. Speaking of… did Alex know?

Yes, she knew Gael. And now Regan couldn’t help but wonder if the mutated child in front of her was one of the scores of individuals who had been trying to convince Gael he was a werewolf. Something clenched in her chest, and she itched with discomfort. Caring was such a bothersome thing. She kept her voice stoic so as not to betray that Alex was correct. “Rather inappropriate to try and figure out which individual I’m referring to, don’t you think?” She raised a brow as sharply as the needle and finished up the last of the sutures. “Fortunately for you, I will not fault nosiness, as I exhibit plenty of my own. But you won’t get your answer from me.” If she wanted to ask Gael, that was her prerogative. For a second – a second too long – she entertained how Gael might refer to her as something other than an acquaintance, and the thought made bile bloom in her stomach. 

“There. You are done.” Regan rose to her feet and gave Alex a self-satisfied look. “Now, are you going to tell me why you allowed an animal to chew on your first set of stitches? Because I don’t want a repeat of that. You will not enjoy that, either.” Regan had a feeling Alex would either tell her nothing at all, or make up some outlandish story involving werewolves and vampires and ghosts. She had to wonder if a doctor in the ED would have been able to coax out the truth, or at least more of the truth than Regan could get. The dead were more honest, every time.

When it came to Wicked’s Rest, coyotes and bears were the least of her worries. Even though most bears had considerable size on Alex they still didn’t stand much of a chance against a werewolf. Maybe if grizzlies were in the area, she’d be slightly more concerned, but as it stood, the standard wildlife of Maine seemed safer than literally ripping herself apart in the bunker. It seemed like the extent of her ‘mutation’ wasn’t exactly clicking with the medical examiner though and she wasn’t even sure how to explain her choice to camp in a way that would make sense. “Well, still safer than the alternative,” she shrugged, “And that was different. Someone like him would have found me anywhere… and nothing chewed through my stitches.”

Not that she was sure that Regan would believe her. Alex was a bit more on the monstrous canine side when she had in fact chewed through her stitches. That wasn’t nothing, that was just herself having a little werewolf panic attack in a bunker. Even if she had the energy to explain following having her stitches removed and replaced, it wasn’t like there was an explanation that most would find reasonable… hence, why she hadn’t gone to a hospital. 

Though she was quickly reminded of the medical nature of her visit when Regan shut down her question about Gael. When most of the patients were dead, Alex thought it was easy enough to forget about the whole patient/doctor confidentiality thing… but she was alive. Gael was also alive. “Right,” she stammered, looking down in embarrassment, “Forgot the whole doctor patient confidentiality thing… Only heard of it in theory, never in practice.” 

Given, Alex hadn’t actually ever been to a normal doctor. At least Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t going to hold her question against her. The delivery was still cold, but there was something of understanding in it too. Even though cold sweat still clung to her skin, she smiled, “It’s scientific curiosity. We both like to understand things… and okay, maybe a little bit of it is nosiness.” 

Of course, the question of what happened to her stitches came and the truth was Alex didn’t have a good explanation. Even if she hadn’t done it to herself, the state of her injury did in fact imply she let something do this to her. But Regan talked about mutations… maybe she could hint at the truth. She ran a sweaty palm through her tangled hair and looked down at her lap. “I didn’t let anything chew through them,” she answered nervously, “I was locked in a bunker alone. I did this to me… while I was sleepwalking.” 

“And I’ll grant you the same privacy… mostly.” Regan had already decided she’d make an exception and tell Kaden about this. They were cousins. And from where she was standing, Kaden was the responsible adult, the one who should have insisted that Alex be placed in front of an emergency room physician. But the man was too stuck in his own phobia to help her. Oh, yes, she certainly had some words for him. Náireach bórd.

Sleepwalking. There it was. Her thoughts turned to Gael once more, and an exhausted sigh swelled in her lungs. At this point, both Alex and Gael were viewing reality through such distorted lenses she wasn’t sure which of them was correct about any aspect of this illness. “Lycanthropy,” she could rule out. But short of that, anything else was on the table. And unfortunately, it wasn’t an autopsy table. That would be too easy. Regan rolled her gloves off and discarded them, keeping her eyes on Alex. “That isn’t physically possible. You can’t chew through something on your hip. I have never known anyone to be that flexible. If you’re going to argue otherwise, then I ask that you show me right now.” But that would not happen, she was sure of it. “And if you were asleep, how do you know what happened?” Regan raised a brow, a moment of triumph settling over her face before she realized the unknown still loomed.

She also realized that, sometimes, there was no winning. Regan sighed, her shoulders tensing. Briefly, she considered extending a hand to Alex to help her off the chair, but she had already removed her gloves. “How does it feel? Is your movement alright?” She gave Alex a sharp look. The commanding eye of a doctor who knows patients will almost always act against medical advice. “Be good to your hip. No vigorous exercise for at least eight weeks. Light exercise is acceptable after four. Keep the site clean. Tell me if it begins to smell like an infection or leak fluids.” Her gaze softened, only slightly. “I do not have lollipops. They would have given you one at the hospital. Go there, next time.”

Mostly. Alex wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what that meant, but she hoped it meant that Kaden wasn’t going to find out about her stitches being chewed through. He knew something was up and realistically she knew she could only avoid it for so long. Kaden was a stubborn pain in the ass like that. No matter how hard she tried to push, he kept being there. Almost annoyingly so, but that was more her frustration than anything else. So instead of getting clarification, she simply shrugged. She couldn’t get an answer she didn’t like if she didn’t ask the question. It was a sound philosophy as far as she was concerned. 

“Some people call it that, yeah,” Alex mumbled. It wasn’t like she could exactly prove her point. Even if she had mastered shifting outside the moon, it wasn’t like she was going to turn into a large wolf monster in the middle of the damn morgue. With how seriously Regan took her job, she was pretty sure the doctor would not be even remotely chill about an animal in her otherwise pristine office. Part of her wished Regan could understand, she wanted the doctor to believe her, but she wasn’t going to push. Instead, she shrugged. “Like this jacket too much to ruin it.” 

Alex stood up from the chair and grimaced slightly. Even if she wanted to, vigorous activity was definitely not on the table. She let out a pained laugh. “Think I can manage skipping the heavy physical activity. But noted on all of the above,” she paused, “I appreciate you taking the time to fix the stitches back up.” Then, there was something a little less cold in Dr. Kavanagh’s gaze, but she was fairly certain that was wishful thinking. Still, the ‘not joke’ was humorous. “Yeah, yeah,” she shook her head as she headed toward the door, “Think I’m a little old to bribe with lollipops… but sentiment is noted and appreciated.”

Was she ever going to willingly go to a hospital? Not a chance. Alex figured if she had more than one conversation ever with Kaden, the doctor probably already knew as much. She figured she could at least try to keep herself out of trouble so that word of an injury didn’t get back to Regan again. 

[luckhissoul]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent. strikeout what they can't at all.

REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

Tagged by : @lunarruled Tagging : @caracarnn @agoldenlily @xradiant ( i feel like i've tagged you in this before lmao )

[vuulpecula]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent. strikeout what they can't at all. **REPOST, don’t reblog**

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

TAGGED BY: @vanbredevoort <3 <3 <3 TAGGING: @paramounticebound | @ssolessurvivor | @thefvrious (for luka!) | && anyone else who would like to do this one & hasn't already!

[silverjetsystm]

WHAT CAN YOUR MUSE DO ?

BOLD what your muse can do. Italicize for something they can do to some extent. Repost!! Do not reblog!!

bake a cake from scratch / ride a horse / drive a submarine / speak a second language / dance / catch a fish / play an instrument / throw a punch / build a deck / ice skate [and ski] / unclog a drain / program a computer / change a flat tire / fire a gun / sew / juggle / play poker / paint / fly a kite / sculpt / write poetry / change a diaper [obvs in ATOM&S but likely nowhere else] / sing / shoot a bow and arrow / ride a bike / swim / sail a boat / do a backflip / play chess / give cpr / pitch a tent / flirt / stitch a wound / read palms / use chopsticks / write in cursive calligraphy / use an electric drill / braid hair / make a campfire / make a mixed drink / do sudoku puzzles / wrap a gift / give a good massage / jump start a car / roll their tongue / do magic tricks / do yoga / tie a tie / skip a rock / shuffle a deck of cards / read morse code / pick a lock / fly a plane [Frenchie would debate if this should be bolded] / train animals / fix a car / apologize / write a business letter / write in a second language / say the alphabet backwards / read music / cook complex meals / change oil / paint nails / draw / socialize / march / take apart a gun / drive a rig / operate a tank / climb a tree / rock climb / tie a cherry stem / basic first aid / draw blood / put out a fire

stolen from @brooklynislandgirl

[julincantations]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent.

REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch But you shouldn't eat anything a witch gives you. Even if it's delicious. | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch my girl is a badass hellspawn with magic and totally useless in a fight without it | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire with magic | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks She is great. It looks like real magic!! | do yoga | tie a tie Probably watched a bunch of youtube tutorials just in case so she is ready to help Tristan any day. | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock Tagged by: @kingofthewebxxx Tagging: @lordofthestrix @fablewoven @kingmakercastle @ladamedemartel @ungraciousknight

[ofyorkshire]

BOLD what your muse can do. italicize what they can do to some extent. REPOST, don’t reblog.

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive a submarine | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | roller skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give cpr | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electrical drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump start a car | roll their tongue | magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read morse code | pick a lock

Tagged by: @heretoboogie Tagging: @parameddic, @caterva, @conduitandconjurer / @illusivexemissary, @mostincrediblechange / @griefgifted, @itsalltoobeautiful, @misstantabismuses (jinx? actually idr if we're mutuals here but hello!! it's spark!), and anyone else who'd like to!