[Send me a † for my character’s reaction to your character’s death.]

He’d called Clint Tarzan. Using his arrows to swing from building to building. Even after all this time, the archer was still adverse to flying, a foolish mistake. Richard should have tried harder to convince his boyfriend, that flying was safer. All it took was the rope to be cut, and for Richard to be late for a mere second. He was never going to forgive himself for it.

Richard held Clint in his arms where Clint couldn’t even manage breaths much less words. He just hoped that the archer was lucid enough to hear him whisper the words of love and devotion that Richard had carried — and always will carry for him.

Later, he had completely wrecked the villain’s liar, killed all his minions, and fried the one who took Clint away from him, leaving nothing in his wake but a pile of ashes.

[Send me a ► for my character’s dying words to your character.]

“Hey, come on,” He breathed out, exerting as much strength as he could, fingers shaking as he wiped the tears on Clint’s face. “Let me see that hot smile of yours one last time before I go, eh?”