#v: before death

[hells-fvry]

❝ … Have you eva’ thought about kissin’ me? ❞

Anthony didn’t intend to ask it… Didn’t come to Bo’s place looking for a meaningless hook-up. Or even a meaningful one, terrifying ( and impossible ) a prospect as that is. He came over because things had gone sideways during an ❛ outing ❜ with his dad and brother. They and most of their men managed to get out in one piece, but it wasn’t easy… and wasn’t without its consequences.

Not that Anthony cares too much about what did happen to him. It was only a bullet to the arm. Barely worth the trouble of self-implemented stitches. But once he wrapped it up, the mafioso was making his way to Bo’s. No, it’s not the getting shot that bothers him… It’s the living through it. The moments in-between when he didn’t know WHERE the bullets would land. It’s the crushing regret that settled within him stronger than fear ever could.

Maybe that’ll be a permanent part of him now… Replaced by the regret of screwing up one of the few good things in his life, rather than of never taking this chance at all. Either way, it’s too late now. So, staring up at his friend since childhood— dual-colored gaze uncharacteristically nervous —arms tightly hug himself, the pain of his wound dulled by time and terror. Anthony knows it’s not a shock that he’s into guys. Even if he’s never explicitly SAID it before, his demeanor is… difficult to hide. He’s heard the speculative murmurs from other men. Prone to insults behind his back and thinly-veiled threats from his dad should he ever prove them true. But he doesn’t know if it’s a shock he’s into Bo.

He had tried to keep it close to his chest. But— … Years have a funny way of making even the most guarded of secrets potentially slip through the ever-growing cracks. Swallowing a lump in his throat, chest shudders with a shaky release of breath. For a moment, one could swear Anthony actually expects Bo to strike him for daring suggest such a thing. Maybe he does. He’s not sure anymore… Either way, he has to know.

Before it’s too late. — (( *Y E E E T S* ))

@burning-fcols

It's always been argued when life begins; upon conception, a zygote, an embryo, a fetus, or only when the baby is born, does life truly start its ticking clock? Bo would disagree with every one. Life starts once the world can fuck you over, all those weak swimmers that lost out on the race being dealt the shittiest hand in the game of cards that made up every single person's existance. Those are the lucky ones, they won before anything even began and don't even know it, before taking their first breath of air and screaming for all the world to hear of their arrival. New blood waiting to be greeted with either a hand or a fist inviting them to the Game. Once you start knowing just how horrible of a hand you have, it's all chips down, and as life goes on, that's when you move up from the kid's table.

Yes, to Bo, life was a game of cards. Some people played in the hall of a fancy lounge, others their kitchen tables, and others still in the dirt with cards so ripped and stained you can hardly make out the suites. Some are able to move to bigger and better tables, the invatation sometimes being extended, and other times one is inviting themself to the table without a care whose seat they might have taken. Some even get thrown out of that lounge or cozy kitchen, finding themselves face down in the dirt with a shout of not to come back still ringing in their ears.

From the moment he'd realized just what he held in his hand, Bo resigned to making himself comfortable down in the dirt. No matter how hard his mother had tried to get them a better life, she couldn't get them to that cozy kitchen table, a thought often lamented while wiping down the casino's bar after last call, or passing out the last self fulfilling prophecy of an empty pocket in the form of cards or dice. Don't get him wrong, he loved his mother, loved what she did for them, that she tried. But...she wanted to invite herself to a cozy kitchen table, and was kicked to the curb with the door barred behind her. After she died, Bo took a good look at the cards in his hand, and carefully considered each and every new one dealt before keeping or discarding it.

Anthony...had been one he'd kept up his sleeve for safekeeping. The only one worth the risk of getting buried beneath his place in the dirt. Something that very well could happen, given the guy's family. Bo wasn't stupid, he knew who he worked for, or rather who his bosses paid money to in order to keep the casino 'safe' and the money flowing. That was the thing about him, about being so low; people paid you not a single mind. They'd sooner step over you than kick you out of the room, no matter what you might overhear. With everything Bo knew, he could take down at least four crime families just in New York...along with his own life, of course.

Such a risky pot wasn't worth the pit it might send him into should he choose to call on that hand and fail.

The thing was, if it would help Anthony in any way, he'd hand over his life in a heartbeat. What was he doing with it? Drinking? Gambling? Anthony had a chance if he could just get away, but...

Bo...didn't want him to go where he couldn't follow.

It had been the two of them for years, even with all that distance for months at a time. Time apart never mattered, the two always able to pick right back up where they'd left off. The thing was, Anthony was in a fancy lounge, and Bo was outside on the curb begging for change.

Or at least his family was, Bo no stranger to just how low Anthony was on his father's ladder of favorites, feet damn near dragging in the dirt where they dangled from that bottom rung. People stepped over him, there hardly a thing he didn't hear, and praise for his friend had never once reached his ears. He hated it, hated how no one seemed to realize just how talented Anthony was. He'd seen him talking a bum out of him last dollar for a hand that could do nothing but lose. He was everything Bo wasn't...

...until he was. Who knew care for each other, this level care would be the one thing they shared between the two of them?

There were no words that would be able to describe his love for Anthony, with him perfectly content with such lacking so long as it never spelled out his best....his only friend leaving him all alone. With Anthony, he was picked up off of that cold, hard ground, even if only for a short time. It wasn't a kitchen table, but their own little fort of pillows and blankets scavanged from every corner of the house, a place where they could be whoever they wanted without fear of judgment or pain.

It was in the safety of that fort, where they were now, the sanctuary being Bo's meager little apartment, one room where if the two men stood with their arms stuck out to the side, fingertip to fingertip, one of them wouldn't be able to fully extend their arm closest to the wall. Still, Anthony always showed up on his doorstep whenever he was in town, should Bo not be working, that is. Those days were even more lacking from his calendar than the visits themselves. Sometimes he would be bleeding, other times sporting somebody else's blood, and few and far in between did he show up with nothing but a smile.

It was the far former that night, Bo demanding Anthony let him bind the wound up proper before deciding how their night would go. Still, with all the possible hands to be dealt, this was far from what Bo expected to draw. This wasn't the game winning card, but it was a step towards that, not a royal flush, but a two pair of the best kind.

How many times had Bo thought about this very moment, blood and all?

"...I'd say every damn time I see ya, but that leaves out all th' times when yer not here, bleeding on my damn bed." A jest through a crooked smirk while he tidied up the last of the medical supplies, it only being three large steps to his fridge after that to grab a couple of beers, and just two to be standing in front of Anthony with one held out in offering.

One...it would take one more step. One step and either the pot is his to take home, or for the dirt to become his bed for that night. "Why?"

[wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight]

( frisky business ) our muses have sneaky sex at one of their places of work — (( okay but... imagine— Anthony and Bo at the casino... human smexy times before the Bad Times™ can hit jddfngjdfg ))

@burning-fcols

Bo couldn't even call this a bad idea, his hands wrapping around Anthony's tiny waist as he pulled his partner into broom closet somewhere in the basement of the casino, it no doubt having been years since it was used, judging by how little was stored in it. An hour, they had an entire hour before Bo had to be back upstairs after his break, his boss having all but demanded he go 'take a breather' after a customer had pissed him off. He hadn't even known Anthony was there until his walk outside for a smoke had been interupted by an oh so tiny hand in his own, eagerly pulling him towards the downwards staircase instead of the door just a few steps away.

It wasn't a bad idea; it was the worst one they'd had yet. If they got caught, they were both dead, Bo already smelling the gunpowder that shot out the bullet with his name on it. But that was far from being a deterrent, no, it only made him want to fuck Anthony's brains out all the more. There was no future for them, not with eachother, and Bo would much rather make what he has with Anthony last than play it safe. He had nothing aside from Anthony, and if their futures are fucked, what better way then to go out then after having sex in the casino Anthony's family all but owned.

They had been doomed from the start, but little moments like these were untouchable by the outside world.

"What's got you so riled up, angel?" He knew, it said in the way hands grabbed at his clothes and lips pressed against his like it was the last kiss they'd ever have. "This t' make me feel better, or you want what I was gonna give that old ass fucker up there?" In other words, just how rough was his angel looking for him to be?

[snek-eyes]

So it turns out Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death plays Queen instrumentals, and after listening way too hard to the coffee date scene, I gotta share how well the part of the song they used fits.

Crowley gets a fantastically dramatic entrance to the section that makes everyone feel things:

Mama, ooh I don't wanna die I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Great for a snake having an existential crisis. Then we get the instrumental break, which builds until it drops off right in time to highlight the comedy of:

Until Aziraphale says:

I see a little silhouetto of a man

He sure did!

Thunderbolt and lightning very, very frightening me

Of course you are, bud.

(Galileo) Galileo (Galileo) Galileo Galileo Figaro

History jokes!

Spare him his life from this monstrosity 🥲

And there's a reason beyond the dialogue why this part feels so stressful, because it gets the back and forth of:

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go? Bismillah! No, we will not let you go (Let him go!)

Bismillah! We will not let you go (Let him go!)

Go back and listen to the scene, it's a very subtle joke. 😄

[hells-fvry]

A roll of his eyes as a much larger hand came up to hold the one tiptoeing along his chest, a kiss being placed onto pale knuckles before their forehead met. Bo didn't say anything, didn't need to, Anthony already knowing him to be a man of action more than words. He could never convey aloud the love he had for his partner, but his eyes could as they locked with those mismatched hues he so loved.

Leaning back to his full height now, Bo plucked a pair of sunglasses from Anthony's fluffy head and set them over his own eyes, the colorful hearts looking so very out of place among his dark and brooding exterior. It was something he would never be caught dead in, it only speaking to how 'shitty' he must feel if he 'let' Anthony put them on him to help with his nonexistent headache. Ruffling up his hair from it's neat coif atop his head, the final touches were set into place with a loosened tie and a few buttons being undone from the top of his shirt, the fabric now ruffled as if all done in a haste. "Alright, baby: Action." If Anthony couldn't convince his boss that Bo was sick, no one could.

「 ☆ 」 Bo always treats him with such care... It had been a foreign concept to the mafioso until meeting the other and now, he doesn't know what he'd do without it. These moments of tenderness, of escape from the Hell they live in, comforting as they are terrifying. Being so reliant upon another is something Anthony can't afford to be ( but it's far too late now ) and he KNOWS that should anyone ever learn of it— let alone the exact details of this reliance —it would be ripped away from him without mercy. His family aren't ones to hesitate when it comes to their reputation.

Truthfully, it was horribly selfish of him to love Bo this way... and yet he can't imagine stopping. Isn't kind enough to, no matter how easier Bo's life would be if he wasn't in it. At least he can take solace in correcting Bo whenever he downplays how attractive he is, Anthony confident he couldn't be the ONLY person to take notice. Although, there's no denying that Bo looks best when he smiles at him. Not that it matters. Bo doesn't have eyes for anyone but him. ❝ Y'know yer th' only person who could call me a ❛ losa' ❜ an' it makes me wanna kiss you... ❞ He jokes once Bo has pulled away, a brow quirked and a shaky but sincere smirk on his face.

Walking two fingers up Bo's chest, the smaller man playfully flutters his lashes and jokes, ❝ Yer also th' only dumbass who doesn' know yer a total dish... Why else do ya think I keep comin' back fer a taste? It ain't jus' 'bout yer personality, baby~ ❞ Resting his forehead against Bo's, mismatched hues warmly gaze into mischievous brown as he coos. ❝ Aww... Poor, caro. Guess I got no choice but ta stick around an' nurse ya back ta health~ ❞ Leaning up, he brushes against Bo's in a breath of a kiss, smiling against his lips, ❝ Thanks, Bo... I— ❞

❝ I really needed some time wit' ya. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[thedreamerstoryteller]

[the-holy-ghosted]

I want to live where Soul meets Body

[waddles-ex-machina]

btw on the topic of hilda the series having a death toll it will never not be funny to me that the two (2) times characters actually properly died for real it was 1) the main villain of the movie in the final showdown and 2) that dude in the witch episode who was literally Just Some Guy

[betterthanbatman1]

Umm I love them???

[yuseirra]

I know this isn't going to be it, but considering his personality... something like this seems more like it than the stuff he's said

[hells-fvry]

Tucked away where hopefully no one can find them, Anthony had taken Bo’s hands in his… Having ushered the bartender away with a nervous energy both so unlike the mafioso ( when allowed to be in his true element, confident in who he is and who he’s with ) and yet painfully-familiar thanks to the life Anthony leads, he gazes intently into his lover’s eyes. A mismatch of one light blue and brown hue, unwavering as his voice despite the tremor in his hands, ❝ Run away wit’ me. ❞

Once the words are out, Anthony seems to realize how insane they sound. But he only digs in further, words quickening as he shakes his head ( soft golden hair— pale enough to nearly elicit a heavenly-glow when hit by light —growing messier ) before pleading explaining, ❝ I know it’s crazy. I know it’s a stupid fuckin’ idea but jus’ hear me out— I don’ care. We can figure somethin’ out. We can go somewhere else, where they don’ know us. Where we don’ have ta hide who we are or what you mean ta me or— or anythin’ ever again! ❞ Tears spring to his eyes, the man clearly not believing himself… but clinging to the possibility anyway. ❝ There’s gotta be a place like that. There’s gotta be. We’ll find it. Hell, we’ll make it if we have ta. ❞

Tears start to silently fall down his freckled face, a galaxy spanning across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Moving closer to Bo, a hand cups his partner’s cheek with a shaky strained smile, ❝ We can be togetha’ all th’ time. We can make a life fer ourselves… an’— an’ even if we can’t— ❞ With that, his manic expression falls into one of anguish, far more genuine than the false promises he’d been making, ❝ I’d ratha’ die as yer Angelo than keep livin’ as fuckin’ Anthony. ❞

❝ Please, Bo… Please jus’ say we can go. ❞ Anthony can’t leave without him. There’d be no point to it. — (( *shoves sum PAST!Them @ you* ))

@burning-fcols

Bo would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about doing the very thing Anthony was now suggesting, the bartender having left his post without question for a 'smoke break' when he caught the mafioso's eyes from across the room, nothing even needing to be said between the two with how frantic he had looked. As common as it was, fear was not something that he liked to see on his angel's face.

Bo didn't answer at first, couldn't, too lost in those mismatched eyes he had seen hold so many emotions over the years, desperation unfortunately being all to familiar. "Anthony...." A sigh as a hand untangled from Anthony's to card through his slicked back hair. "Angel, baby...you know we can't do that." Normally stoic and gruff to those around him, his angel was one of the very few that got to see the softer side of the normally guarded man. "We...fuck-" Swallowing hard as he watched tears fall down his boyfriend's freckled cheeks, he couldn't resist leaning forwards to kiss them away, a hand coming up to hold the wrist of the hand on his cheek while the other came to rest on Anthony's hip.

"We can't..." A whisper between them as Bo pressed their foreheads together with eyes falling shut. "You know I would love nothin' more, angelo, hell, I can't tell you how many times I've thought about the same damn thing, but..." A shaky exhale, his eyes now wet where they blinked open. "We...we wouldn't make it far. Your family...they got too many fuckin' eyes. A-And we don't even have any damn money! I'm barely making rent as it is. It's too risky, we...we just gotta stick this shit out, I'm saving what money I can, it's just gonna take some time, and then I'll take you anywhere you wanna go."

[akuma-tenshi]

congrats on winning ds mr. campbell i'm going to kill you again if you win nymph

[yaoigoddess9158]

I have found a new blorbo

I would say that he’s my son, like I do for all my other blorbos, but uh… he’s love interest of the mc, which is supposed to be us, the player, so… that won’t really work out

Anyways

[ccbatman]

actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.

[dceasesd]

i’ve been on a dick&jason kick lately their dynamic is truly unmatched like no one else compares

[cosmogenous2]

goth bartender called me gorgeous