WHO WILL SURVIVE

...and what will be left of them?

[drunivers]

DRUNIVERS is an independent and private multimuse roleplay blog. established 2021 + remade 2024 by dru (she/her, lesbian, 21+). PERSONAL BLOGS PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG MY POSTS.  

RULES. MUSE LIST. MEME TAG. STARTER CALL. INTEREST TRACKER.

credit: psd used is by supersources.

jester's court: if you like this multi, you might also enjoy @sordidery and @whimsyckal!

current blogroll:

horror

@claudevil: the vampire claudia, interview with the vampire (2022)

@ftzie: ginger fitzgerald, ginger snaps

@outshur: miles upshur, outlast

@quistley: misty quigley, yellowjackets

@reseviled: resident evil multi muse, sideblog to this blog

@taiate: taissa turner, yellowjackets

@uristidious: stanley uris, IT (canon-div), sideblog to this blog

comics

@const4ntine: john constantine, hellblazer

@domineena: neena thurman, x-men

@hellsputina : illyana rasputina, x-men

@intangibl : kitty pryde, x-men

misc

@avernach: karlach cliffgate, baldur's gate iii

@hellfirechris: christina yoo, stranger things original character

@ichtgod: jason dean, heathers

@poppydraught: hypnos, hades video game series

@rikoasakawa: riko asakawa, affiliated original music producer/vampire

[drunivers]

i know marvel is trying to bait me back with the doomsday trailer but it won’t work bc i simply shan’t watch it

[drunivers]

riko has been moved to @rikoasakawa btw

[maybefranky]

the unfortunate thing about being scott summers is that if it were anybody else his obsessive preparedness would probably be a sign of mental illness but he’s literally not even wrong to be worried. he IS always in a situation. like fuck, the white pharaoh is after him and one of his brothers is evil now and all of the members of his polyamorous situationship are lost in the tunnels

[drunivers]

the desert sun is unforgiving, sweat gathering on clarke's forehead and the back of her neck. she's not far enough from the group that she can't hear bellamy's little pack discussing what they've found, what they wish it'd been instead. they seem fine, and she knows -- she knows it had just been another shoot-out to them. just another skirmish with death that they'd got out on the other side on. they're not heartless. they just didn't have a reason to care about the town the way she did.

still, it's hard not to resent them for their carefree attitudes, their shoulders unbowed with grief. they'd lost nothing. meanwhile, everything she'd built, every connection she'd made, gone in the space of an afternoon.

it had been easier before, when she had wound cleaning and bandaging to distract herself with; not everyone in their little group had gotten out of the shootout unscathed. would have been worse if they'd been in town when the enemy raiders arrived, rather than approaching when the takeover had almost been finished. they'd almost assuredly have had casualties then.

but if clarke had just been there at the start -- she could've helped. maybe she could've stopped finn from bleeding out, if she'd made it in time. at least so he wouldn't have to be alone when he died. that would have been the least she could've done for him, after everything --

it's bellamy's fault just as much as it is clarke's. she wouldn't have been so far away if he hadn't offered to escort her to a series of caves she'd been wanting to scout for any kind of helpful fungi. not that he seems any more upset about the massacre they'd left behind than any of his moronic cronies.

clarke looks up -- bellamy's crouching like she's a wounded animal he's about to put down, and she still has to look up at him. "i'm sorry, are you actually trying to give me advice?" she's angry and grieving and boiling alive in this heat -- her voice comes out too loud, and acidic enough to eat through body armor. "haven't you done enough, bellamy?"

[sordidery]

"the fuck have i done?" anger lights up in his chest, quick, brewing fast like the thunderstorms that appear in the middle of the desert. clarke is such a fucking princess. haughty bitch. how is it that anyone in this mess of a world could be so used to getting their way? bellamy squints. his thighs burn. "what, you're mad at me for all that? you think anybody coulda done any more to stop that shit show?"

bellamy knows she lost somebody. that finn guy, pain in the ass that he was, mattered to her. the people she surrounded herself with mattered. but that's just the way the world works. people die. good people, bad people. you keep moving. you scratch and you claw and you do everything in your power to appreciate the fact you lived to see the next sunrise. she shouldn't be projecting anything but confidence and strength. bellamy huffs out a breath; he works to keep his voice from booming. his people don't need to hear this. they aren't alone. there's no room for this. "we were outgunned, clarke. with your experience, you're lucky to have made it out at all. you're welcome for that, by the way."

[drunivers]

he’s instantly angry, and clarke’s glad. she shouldn’t be the only one that’s suffering. she shouldn’t be the only one that aches and seethes. if that makes her selfish, fine. they can all be selfish together out here in the wastelands, under the brutality of the southwestern sun. in her peripheral vision, the skinny one — murphy — makes a gesture with his hand, and the others laugh. clarke’s eyes sting. she squints up at bellamy hatefully, crouching before her with his sun’s halo.

“you didn’t even try,” she argues, face hot. her mouth is bone-dry. if she had more sense she wouldn’t be wasting water on talking. “you should have — we should have stayed. we could have done more if you weren’t a coward,” she snarls. it’s rough in her throat.

“and stop acting like you know anything about me.” the only person who knows clarke’s real background is her mother, and dr. abby griffin is almost assuredly dead in the time since her daughter fled the enclave. “you don’t. you never will.”

bellamy didn’t risk himself to save her because he cared, because he’d enjoyed their late night talks, or felt that they’d formed some kind of connection. she’s an idiot for thinking so. he saved her because he’s a pragmatist, because clarke is, for now, a useful tool. something else for him to collect and then discard. she shoves against his chest with the heel of her hand.

[drunivers]

i don't want to make a promo but i need you to know my 90s-2000s based kitty pryde blog just dropped. you should go follow.

[edekyll]

do u think he was tenured and do u think it was a twenty step process to fire him. how do u pull up to a hearing knowing damn well u just terrorized gotham

[zat4nna]

independent, private, selective & affiliated blogs for zatanna zatara & john constantine from dc comics. canon selective & multiverse.

[notmorbid]

widow's bay: season 1.

dialogue prompts from the first season of widow's bay.

don't act like you're better than everyone else.

i don't want any gossip. not today.

apparently there's no age limit on syphilis.

what town doesn't have a checkered past?

there are some people who want to be miserable.

i don't know how to get through to you.

you cannot keep sneaking out at night. do i have to put bars on the windows?

god, _____ used to make me laugh.

you were the best surprise of my life.

i just want to keep you safe.

you just cannot stand someone else being in charge, can you?

there's misogyny in the air. more than a whiff.

they'll drag you down with them, if you let them.

don't you raise your voice at me.

where are you headed? can i offer you a ride?

whatever weird tale you're about to tell me, i don't want to know.

i can't believe i let you into my head again.

i can't imagine what that must have been like, all on your own.

i shouldn't be asking you. it must be so hard to talk about.

i don't need your negativity today. just be supportive.

why are you always so nasty to me?

i know that you asked me to be supportive, but i have my qualms.

you can't just lock me in here.

i can see you calculating how much you think you can get away with in 30 minutes.

were you going to tell me?

you like to watch other people, see into their business.

you are our only hope against this darkness.

frightened men will do desperate things.

you know i've always been on your side.

it's what you promised.

fuck me? fuck you!

i will never understood how the fuck you got your job.

i wonder what my last words will be.

you old dog.

i seem so cold, but i have a heart.

things are gonna be different from now on.

i'm fine, i promise. it's just a flesh wound.

you need to learn to knock, cowboy.

you know what they say: the family that swims together, drowns together.

i thought you had forgotten about me.

i'm sorry, i didn't realize you went to medical school.

how about some tea?

i got a joint. let's smoke it.

it shouldn't be that way, but it is. there's no way around it.

you can't control the bad things that happen in life.

we live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it all the time is love.

life is a house of horrors. you should know that better than anyone.

i've always worried about you. you avoid the truth.

i don't understand why i didn't just listen.

you're a good person. you don't deserve this.

it feels so good to finally say all of this out loud.

the pull-out method just doesn't work.

you are always lying.

[dimitresca]

                           I WILL DEVOUR YOU.

independent lady dimitrescu roleplay blog. written by morgan.                             info.               mobile info.

[drunivers]

evil cassandra khaw bell’s hells prequel novella getting me back into cr against my will…

[drunivers]

@puhddin sent: [cradle.] sender cradles receiver's throat in their hand, applying light pressure.

it's her hand on his neck that wakes him up. oh, fear never sleeps, but the scarecrow does, in a gotham tenement that his professor salary (barely) pays for. he stiffens at first, then consciously relaxes when he recognizes his attacker's silhouette against the neon-sign-illuminated night sky. his chin tilts up slightly, allowing her better access to his throat. harley's hand is cold against flushed skin. oh, he recognizes his old coworker, even now that she's changed her sense of style.

"harleen," jonathan says, as pleasantly as he ever does. her lipstick is a violent, delightful shade of red. he'd mistakenly assumed their little rendezvous (in a janitor's closet or an empty classroom or even his office once or twice) would end now that she's publicly declared herself harley quinn, a real gotham supervillain. and the joker's arm candy to boot. (how saccharine, how tooth-crackingly sweet. regurgitated cotton candy on the shoes of a crying child.)

jonathan always sleeps on his back, and harleen is now straddling his chest, one hand around his throat enough to limit his air supply, not enough to prevent him from talking entirely. "i see you found a new tailor," jonathan notes, eyes flicking down from her face to her somewhat cartoonish harlequin's get-up.

he's not surprised she knows where he lives; he'd never told her back when they worked together, but presumably she's got minions now that she's playing co-star to the clown prince of crime. how droll. "you'll have to apply a little more pressure than that if you want to kill me," jonathan patronizes. he covers her hand with his own, larger one, patiently demonstrating how to cut off his windpipe as if she's never killed before.

[puhddin]

harley's life has led to this point. the talkshow, the hours at arkham, the private clients all funneled into this one spot in the road. her heart beats fast, remembers the specific moments in where she was placed somewhat like this. only very different.

her hand sits there like it belongs there and he tilts his chin up, good boy she wants to say but she doesn't wanna piss him off too fast, things are just getting good. and harley can't seem to wipe the smile off her face. her head tilts, the jingle of bells accompanying her movements. she thought she could just shrug this off, she could just shut the door on jon. chapter done and over along with the rest of her past. but he's like a bad splinter.

he frustrates her even now, when she holds his life literally in her gloved hands. she sighs frustrated. "goddamn you're annoyin'." her hand doesn't move, she just applies the tiniest amount of pressure. a little more. "i don't want t'kill ya'. stupid. if i wanted to-" any pretense, any veil lifted. this is the real her, this is her real face. "-you'd be dead already. crow chow." she grins even wider. her hand loosens them, sits up straighter, presses a finger to the tip of his nose.

"all these secret little meetings for how long and ya' still can't figure out what a girl wants, huh? i gotta spell it out for you." her fingers slide into his hair, pulls. to be annoyed, to bait him into doing what she wants. which is to fight back, fall right back into their old routine. she grabs his nose and shakes his head a little, cute. cute little jonathan crane. she wishes he wasn't. that she didn't miss him a little bit.

[drunivers]

he scowls instinctively as she grabs for his nose — immature pigtail-pulling, what else could he expect? but even these antics can’t deter the low thrill of anticipation. another sparring match, in whatever deceitfully intimate form it may take. if nothing else, harleen can always be counted on to surprise.

“oh, my. trouble in paradise?” a corner of jonathan’s mouth tilts upwards like a shark’s fin, sensing blood in the water. “and so soon.”

his thoughts on the man who calls himself the joker are far from positive, and that was before his otherwise intelligent coworker decided to ruin her life for the green-haired lunatic. he’d never tell harley this, of course, but he thinks she can do better than flashy television specials and obsession with a grinning maniac.

it’s gotham, one of his more paranoid arkham patients (an agoraphobe, which had been a fun bit of variety) likes to tell him, as if the city itself has a mystical curse that ruins people’s lives.

jonathan wasn’t born and raised in gotham, not like harleen with that narrows accent she’s always trying to hide at the hospital, but he doesn’t believe in blaming a city for one’s problems. even one as fascinatingly hellish as gotham.

“if you’re here for relationship counseling, you should know i don’t take walk-ins,” he sneers, words seeking to draw blood. make her flinch, behind that painted face. he’s feeling a tad spiteful — justifiably, he thinks. harley quinn runs off to play dress up and who is left with the extra paperwork? jonathan crane, of course.

[drunivers]

it's quieter, away from the big cities. riko doesn't remember the last time she was in middle america, without the buzz of city life on either coast. she'd grown up in tokyo, gone to finishing school in seoul. then it was off to new york. their bigger shows were in chicago, los angeles, boston. when was the last time she'd felt this quiet? was it the first time she met wayne?

even with the sun down, the summer air is warm, a caress on riko's bared midriff where she leans against the side of the car. she catches herself looking at mary, and looks away to not be noticed. mary's quieter out of the city too, she supposes. easier to get along with. or something. (or maybe it's just riko who quiets, becomes something closer to normal. closer to what she might have been before all this.) they're taking a moment to stretch their legs, switch drivers. it's not like mary needs to sleep, but riko will eventually. (it tingles down her spine, the idea of mary watching her sleep. about being that vulnerable around her, without wayne to mediate. she wants to chalk it up to practical, healthy amounts of fear, but. but maybe it's not that simple.)

"are you --" her voice comes out a little hoarse from disuse. riko clears her throat. she's even speaking softly, like she's scared of shattering the quiet. like this roadtrip is all a dream that could disappear if she spoke too loud. "do you need to eat?" why is she asking? for her own safety, of course. the same reason her eyes are on mary's mouth. why else?

@molotovmary

[011945]

KISS PROMPT DEALER'S CHOICE OR CHOOSE VIA SPINNY WHEEL. CLINTBUCKY

number 39. a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party .

bucky isn't a man who plays games. truth be told, he is rather tired of playing games and loosing. he tends to loose, in life. everywhere else, in killing, in executing plans, in following orders he's nearly perfect. what he did not expect was finding himself in the middle of this specific situation, he knows, he is aware that he hates clint. everything about him. he only let's him be around because nat is the one making the choice, actively, to keep him around. but this is nat's game, she's the one in charge, she's calling the shots and there isn't a single thing on this earth that bucky wouldn't do for that woman.

bucky guesses him and clint have that in common. apparently.

whenever nat gets him like this, hot, with the edges of the world gone soft and blurry, bucky only wants more. so it's easy, like aiming the scope, finger on the trigger and letting go. kissing clint is something like that. it's tentative at first, he moves slow, with eyes half lidded, the way he sets his hand on clint's shoulders, seventy years and they still haven't invented an impersonal way to kiss someone much to his dismay. bucky leans in, and kisses him. his cheeks warm, turned red. it's not a peck, it's not quick. slow, steady. licks into his mouth. (he can't cheat nat out of what she wants.) he can't hide behind anything in the moment, as much as he wants to pretend that he isn't feeling warmer than usual, that kissing clint made something snap into place. a small click, the sound of a clip being all the way empty. bucky isn't even trying to save face when he shudders slightly. he doesn't have to, nat's right there. watching. it only encourages him to set the metal arm on clint's waist (cold enough to maybe make him jump or shiver, looking to get a reaction out of him) pulling him closer. it's not the fact that clint is ugly, because to be fair he isn't. he's just stupid. and long, and he's built. no, bucky barnes just hates clint barton because of everything else, what he represents. what he might be finding out, right now, is that he really likes kissing clint.

@kuhblooey @drunivers

[drunivers]

clint doesn't know how he gets into these situations.

well, that's not necessarily entirely true. being friends (and...whatever) with the greatest spy who's ever left russia has gotten him into all sorts of weird places. the avengers, to name one. but it would be unfair to blame nat for this -- not that blame is the word he should be using, maybe, with the winter soldier's tongue in his mouth and all. and clint can't blame barnes either, for doing whatever natasha says. that's just the effect she has. you want to do whatever it takes to make her happy. the point is, clint can relate to another man head over heels for natasha romanov. even if he doesn't get why she likes him.

(okay, maybe he's starting to get it. just a little.)

clint wonders if barnes was some kind of ladies' man back in the forties or whatever. he certainly kisses like it. did they kiss with tongue back in the forties, or was that a strictly after-marriage activity? is that a dumb question?

he's distracted, and so the sudden shock of metal against his skin, bleeding cold into the space where his t-shirt is rucked up, makes him -- not flinch. startle, maybe. muttering, "shit!" against bucky's mouth. but bucky's pulling him closer, and clint's having a hard time remembering why he hates the guy, actually. it's hot, and it's even hotter that nat's there, watching, probably wearing that smug little look she gets when a plan of hers falls into place.

bucky must really like nat, to kiss clint for her. to do it with this much intensity. because he's not blind, okay, he knows that something about him pisses barnes off. until recently, it'd been mutual. it's still mutual, it's just that. maybe clint has to reconsider some things. privately. he finds himself wanting to run his fingers through bucky's hair, see if it's as soft as it looks, and he's got to curb these thoughts before they get him somewhere dangerous --

breaking away from the kiss, clint clears his throat. looks at natasha pointedly. "enjoy the show, romanov?" tone dry. he means to ask it like, i know what you're doing, you're not subtle and not like, tell me i did a good job tell me you enjoyed that as much as i did. he's not sure he succeeds. / @kuhblooey

[drunivers]

adding (1) more touch starved freak necromancer to the roster

[ohisms]

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 .    (  a  collection  of  100  nonverbal  action  prompts .   mature  and  potentially  triggering  themes  are  present .   add  “ + reverse ”  to  swap  assigned  roles . )

∗ o1﹕ sender  tucks  hair  out  of  receiver’s  face . ∗ o2﹕ sender  offers  receiver  a  bite  from  their  fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender  places  their  feet / legs  in  receiver's  lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender  offers  receiver  an  earbud  to  share  their  music . ∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender  gives  receiver  company  in  the  hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them . ∗ o8﹕ sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night . ∗ o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender  wields  a  [ gun / knife ]  at  receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender  runs  their  fingers  through  receiver’s  hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender  invites  receiver  to  dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender  takes  a  [ picture / video ]  of  receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender  places  their  head  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender  and  receiver  make  eye  contact  across  a  busy  room . ∗ 16﹕ sender  pushes  receiver  against  a  wall  to  kiss  them . ∗ 17﹕ sender  and  receiver  cook  together . ∗ 18﹕ sender  comes  to  receiver  after  being  injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender  lifts  receiver's  chin ,  invoking  eye  contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender  overtakes  receiver  in  combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender  finds  receiver  [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender  straightens  an  article  of  receiver’s  clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender  crawls  into  bed  with  receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender  rolls  their  eyes  at  receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender  is  caught  wearing  receiver's  clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  with  a  pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender  writes  a  note  on  receiver’s  skin :  [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender  wraps  a  blanket  around  receiver’s  shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender  runs  and  jumps  into  receiver’s  arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender  shoves  receiver  out  of  anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . ∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be . ∗ 35﹕ sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender  throws  an  item  of  sentiment  bitterly  at  receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender  joins  receiver  in  the  shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender  is  caught  following  receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender  twines  their  fingers  with  receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender  barges  into  receiver’s  home  unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table . ∗ 44﹕ sender  aggressively  shoves  past  receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender  kisses  receiver’s  [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  out  of  harm’s  way . ∗ 47﹕ sender  is  found  sobbing  by  receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender  locks  receiver  out  of  their  room . ∗ 49﹕ sender  brings  receiver  [ coffee / tea ]  in  the  morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender  rests  their  forehead  against  receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender  plays  a  song  for  receiver  that  reminds  them  of  them :  [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender  buys  receiver  a  drink  at  a  bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender  needs  receiver’s  help  getting  in  the  bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender  and  receiver  cross  paths  in  the  kitchen  late  at  night . ∗ 56﹕ sender  twists  receiver’s  arm  behind  their  back . ∗ 57﹕ sender  winks  at  receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender  is  found  collapsed  by  receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender  prevents  an  injured  receiver  from  getting  up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender  claps  a  hand  over  receiver’s  mouth  to  silence  them . ∗ 61﹕ sender  cages  receiver  against  a  [ wall / the floor ]  with  their  arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender  storms  away  from  receiver  during  an  argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  sleeping  in  receiver’s  bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender  [ applies / touches up ]  receiver’s  makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender  throws  receiver  into  a  wall  during  combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender  dances  sensually  with  receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  across  the  face . ∗ 68﹕ sender  places  their  hand  on  receiver’s  leg  while  driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender  pulls  a  chair  out  from  under  receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender  catches  receiver’s  wrist  when  they  turn  to  leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender  leaves  an  intimate  mark  on  receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender  beats  receiver  in  a  video  game . ∗ 73﹕ sender  and  receiver  stand  in  stunned  silence  after  a  fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender  cares  for  receiver  while  they’re  sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  on  a  hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender  is  caught  snooping  in  receiver’s  things . ∗ 77﹕ sender  and  receiver  cuddle  while  watching  television . ∗ 78﹕ sender  throws  something  aggressively  at  receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender  creeps  up  behind  receiver  to  scare  them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  shopping  together . ∗ 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ dye / style ]  their  hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender  draws  receiver  into  a  kiss  by  the  back  of  their  neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender  is  discovered  having  a  panic  attack  by  receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender  accidentally  injures  receiver  during  sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender  grabs  receiver  roughly  by  the  hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender  brings  receiver  to  their  knees  during  combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender  shows  receiver  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ∗ 88﹕ sender  winks  [ seductively / mockingly ]  at  receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender  yells  at  receiver  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender  helps  receiver  patch  up  a  wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender  holds  receiver  as  they  cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender  silently  and  angrily  points  receiver  towards  the  door . ∗ 93﹕ sender  gestures  for  receiver  to  sit  down . ∗ 94﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  into  their  lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender  cradles  receiver’s  face . ∗ 96﹕ sender  tackles  receiver  out  of  the  way  of  danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender  has  hidden  an  injury  from  receiver ,  and  receiver  finds  out . ∗ 98﹕ sender  confronts  receiver  about  their  unhealthy  behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender  proposes  to  receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .

[moonknighttism]

X-Men v7 #29