#bam dead

Plus I love the idea that all of them would be even more protective over her. Like they’d put a child leash on her in case she bolts and tries to vanish again to save them.

he’d be like “you’re going? :(“ and i’d be like yeah man, lets take a selfie real quick because i like you as a person but also being away from home makes me homesick and also these neardeath experiences are pretty stressful so thanks but no thanks

and i’d just go back to my life

(It's three am and I can't sleep so here's some angst

Premise:

alfred is a fairly well known hit man in the underground community. he knows everybody.And if he doesnt know you hes friends with your cousin. but being this well known was boung to get him into some trouble.

so he goes about living his double life, both as a regular civilian and a hitman, being very careful to keep both of his lives seperate. He even manages to get married to a beautiful, amazing, perfect russian man named ivan. then one day he gets a message from someone he's crossed paths with in the past, and lets just say that their organization does not like him.

so they leave him with a choice: either he kills his husband, or they will. he knows that if he lets them get a hold of the only thing he loves, he couldn't live with himself...)

_____

There's not enough time in the world. There never is; never has been. I've always wondered what it would be like if my time ran out. When it ran out. Would I face it, guns blazing, all fire and fight? Or would death take me peacefully, allowing me a final respite.

Now, I stand at the bedside of the love of my life, pistol with its silencer in my left hand, finger poised and ready on the trigger guard. I can't... I can't let them take him from me. If he goes with them they'll kill him, and I know it. But he'll hurt before they let him go.

I've seen it before; the bloated, shredded, dismembered bodies, sometimes weeks old, other times months. The bodies that you can just look at and feel their pain. I know I couldn't live with myself knowing that they have him and he's crying and calling out for me to save him or for god to deliver him. And I know I wouldn't survive the sight of his mangled body being pulled out of the river, barely recognizable and long since dead.

I look down at the round, sleeping face of the love of my life. My eyes trace the lips I always steal kisses from, and the nose that he was always insecure about, and the crinkles at the edges of his galactic purple eyes, put there from years of laughter.

I can't help myself, so I bury my other hand in his soft hair. Fluffy and white. It always kind of reminded me of petting a duckling way back when I was young.

A small smile tugs at my lips while a tear falls down my cheek.

I fire.

No one hears the muted bang. No one but me. He sleeps on, never to wake again. I'll never hear his laugh that sounds like bells again. He'll never speak to his sisters in soft Russian again. I'll never be able to look into those bright, lively violet eyes and fall hopelessly in love all over again.

I... When we married, I promised I'd follow him to the ends of the earth, so long as we'd be together. We would face whatever hardships life could throw at us together, and we'd always be okay. And I am a man of my word.

A second bang that no one hears fills the room, and I collapse into the floor beside him. I've saved us both, one last time.

If you cut the new rope immediately after handing it to them, most will get whiplash and either stay because they weren't holding that tight and will slowly slip away when they catch something new, OR THEY WILL THROW YOUR DUMB STORY AND THEIR WHOLE ASS COMPUTER OUT THE WINDOW!