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homosexuals) wrote2024-06-10 01:32 pm
homosexuals) wrote2024-06-10 01:32 pm
[SALTBURNT INBOX]
WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
HZF
text β audio β video
WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
HZF
text β audio β video
[ Tim asks one of the housekeepers where to find his room, and he waits, until the middle of the day, when Hawk is most likely to be out, before slipping an old-new newspaper under the door, with a handwritten note taped to it. ]
This is not an invitation.Β I still meant what I said before. But you should see this.
Maybe it would matter more if we were born fifty years later.Β
This is real, though. Not one of this placeβs tricks. I was told by someone who was alive then.Β
I thought you would want to know.
[ Itβs not signed. Heβs confident it doesnβt need to be. ]
This is not an invitation.Β I still meant what I said before. But you should see this.
Maybe it would matter more if we were born fifty years later.Β
This is real, though. Not one of this placeβs tricks. I was told by someone who was alive then.Β
I thought you would want to know.
[ Itβs not signed. Heβs confident it doesnβt need to be. ]
Wanted to check in - you get that black book yet?
Haven't heard of anyone else yet losing memories. Did see someone posted about a friend disappearing. Not exactly comforting.
I got some more information, too. Turns out some people talked to a staff member here - they haven't seen her since.
Haven't heard of anyone else yet losing memories. Did see someone posted about a friend disappearing. Not exactly comforting.
I got some more information, too. Turns out some people talked to a staff member here - they haven't seen her since.
Less of a book, but yeah - I got something. Haven't had the chance to check on the authenticity, but it proves they're paying a lot closer attention than I'm pretty sure we'd all like.
Hold on - people are losing memories now too?
Christ. Has anyone requested her to turn down their sheets or - something to find out if she's still around?
Hold on - people are losing memories now too?
Christ. Has anyone requested her to turn down their sheets or - something to find out if she's still around?
I'm going to your room to get you some clothes. Is there anything else you need?
There's a couple history books on my nightstand, if you don't mind.
Oh, and a glass of scotch.
You're a doll.
Oh, and a glass of scotch.
You're a doll.
[ the parties are over, the karaoke machine abandoned, the velveteen cushions upturned with their stuffing ripped out. the house has a lot of cleaning up to do after the wolf attack β which isnβt embryβs concern as he trudges through the sad-looking baths, once populated with sexiness and nudity, and now empty. heβs almost glad for it, though. ever since the wolfman had gotten its claws into him, embry hasnβt trusted himself around anyone, the hollow place in his chest where his demons roam suddenly bursting with his darkest desires. he wants to fuck. he wants to guzzle down enough liquor to drown his liver. he wants to indulge in every sordid fantasy he keeps leashed for his own good, the ones that hurt people and the ones that hurt himself. so itβs good that the baths are empty, because heβs the last person anyone should be around right now.
heβs bleeding again, his hastily bandaged wounds demanding attention from a professional, but embry doesnβt want to seek out any of the judgemental staff, and he doesnβt want to keep asking greer to look after him. greer is the worst one, all his want bundled like gunpowder inside of him; a single sight is enough to get him to go off, with how many years heβs wanted her. no, he has to stay away. from her. from everyone. itβs easy enough to take care of himself here while no oneβs around, his shirt slipping from his shoulders as he unwinds the tattered bandages, the claw marks a deep, angry red cutting across his flesh. his left shoulder feels stiff, not dissimilar to the weeks heβd spent recovering from being shot up in carpathia, and his right forearm has seen better days, scratches gouged in parallel lines from his wrist curving to the inside of his elbow.
his belt clinks against the rock, his trousers joining it in a wrinkled heap, and then heβs wading into the bath, hoping the water will douse the burning pit of lust smoldering in him. he feels like shit, so why would he even want to seek out sex right now? itβs a compulsion, an infectious disease that he needs to purge from his system. tiny rivulets of pink swirl through the water when he submerges himself, the baths still warm enough to give the illusion of relaxation, but the truth is embry is wound tight enough to snap, his uninjured hand drifting to fist his cock underwater, his head breaking the waterline so he can suck in a ragged breath, water dripping from his lashes to glide down his cheeks. ]
heβs bleeding again, his hastily bandaged wounds demanding attention from a professional, but embry doesnβt want to seek out any of the judgemental staff, and he doesnβt want to keep asking greer to look after him. greer is the worst one, all his want bundled like gunpowder inside of him; a single sight is enough to get him to go off, with how many years heβs wanted her. no, he has to stay away. from her. from everyone. itβs easy enough to take care of himself here while no oneβs around, his shirt slipping from his shoulders as he unwinds the tattered bandages, the claw marks a deep, angry red cutting across his flesh. his left shoulder feels stiff, not dissimilar to the weeks heβd spent recovering from being shot up in carpathia, and his right forearm has seen better days, scratches gouged in parallel lines from his wrist curving to the inside of his elbow.
his belt clinks against the rock, his trousers joining it in a wrinkled heap, and then heβs wading into the bath, hoping the water will douse the burning pit of lust smoldering in him. he feels like shit, so why would he even want to seek out sex right now? itβs a compulsion, an infectious disease that he needs to purge from his system. tiny rivulets of pink swirl through the water when he submerges himself, the baths still warm enough to give the illusion of relaxation, but the truth is embry is wound tight enough to snap, his uninjured hand drifting to fist his cock underwater, his head breaking the waterline so he can suck in a ragged breath, water dripping from his lashes to glide down his cheeks. ]
[it's gonna have a lot more than couch cushions to clean up with the way things are going. the last few hours are a hazy blur of blood and teeth and claws - of quiet silence when it snuck up on him with barely any time to react. hawk had thought it was just a man then, squared up to defend himself like he might have any german back in velletri. the adrenaline hid the worst of his wounds - enough for him to stumble back into the house with a wooziness that doesn't feel like it's from injury per se as he spit out the cap of a corked whiskey bottle, guzzled down enough to make him focus on the burn down the back of his throat instead of his skin as he poured the rest over the angry scratches on his ribs and stomach. cleaned 'em up as best as he could, some more whiskey for good measure, and he'll be good as new.
and then the hunger kicked in. something gnawing and cavernous that needs to be satiated now before it claws its way out of the wounds that fit the shape of the marks that inflicted it in the first place. his own heartbeat pounds in his ears, every pulse of blood pumping through him feels alive under the stretch of skin. sweat, sex, something to sink his teeth into - christ, anything - he just needs it now. the thought of going back to tim in this state makes him nearly physically jerk at the thought, the idea that he might hurt him like this somehow, more than he already has in denying taking that stupid goddamn tag in the first place. he could have just shoved it in his pocket, tucked it in a drawer - could have tried to be someone else here like the entire fucking place keeps pushing him to be.
well he isn't. he's still the same bastard with his multitude of contradictions, feet carrying him to the baths for the promise of heat and near anonymity with so much skin and passing faces that it won't matter if he's another one pressed into a neck and fucking up into another body on a long tally of ones he won't remember. so of course it's just his luck that the baths are empty - dead to the world, not a single soul in here. there's a frustrated hiss as he debates turning from the entryway, ignoring the need and just forcing himself into bed before he does something stupid he might regret in the morning if he can even remember it.
and then he hears it: heightened somehow, impossibly, the little splashes of water and heavy breathing, hitting him like the weight of a hundred bricks as he already starts yanking his shirt off and tossing it to the side, slipping out of his shoes and socks and leaving them in the hallway leading into the sumptuous room. there's something in him that wants to sneak up on whoever it is, a predator seeking not to startle its prey. and what pretty prey it is - sculpted cheekbones flushed, dark lashes catching on his skin with flashes of steely blue in between.
embry.
hawk has no hesitation as he sinks to his knees behind him, leaning down and murmuring in his ear.]
You look like you need a hand.
[the blood in the water only makes him feel more starved, torn between dragging his hand through it and lifting it to his lips, reaching down instead from where he's still partway submerged to grip his wrist hard and tug.]
and then the hunger kicked in. something gnawing and cavernous that needs to be satiated now before it claws its way out of the wounds that fit the shape of the marks that inflicted it in the first place. his own heartbeat pounds in his ears, every pulse of blood pumping through him feels alive under the stretch of skin. sweat, sex, something to sink his teeth into - christ, anything - he just needs it now. the thought of going back to tim in this state makes him nearly physically jerk at the thought, the idea that he might hurt him like this somehow, more than he already has in denying taking that stupid goddamn tag in the first place. he could have just shoved it in his pocket, tucked it in a drawer - could have tried to be someone else here like the entire fucking place keeps pushing him to be.
well he isn't. he's still the same bastard with his multitude of contradictions, feet carrying him to the baths for the promise of heat and near anonymity with so much skin and passing faces that it won't matter if he's another one pressed into a neck and fucking up into another body on a long tally of ones he won't remember. so of course it's just his luck that the baths are empty - dead to the world, not a single soul in here. there's a frustrated hiss as he debates turning from the entryway, ignoring the need and just forcing himself into bed before he does something stupid he might regret in the morning if he can even remember it.
and then he hears it: heightened somehow, impossibly, the little splashes of water and heavy breathing, hitting him like the weight of a hundred bricks as he already starts yanking his shirt off and tossing it to the side, slipping out of his shoes and socks and leaving them in the hallway leading into the sumptuous room. there's something in him that wants to sneak up on whoever it is, a predator seeking not to startle its prey. and what pretty prey it is - sculpted cheekbones flushed, dark lashes catching on his skin with flashes of steely blue in between.
embry.
hawk has no hesitation as he sinks to his knees behind him, leaning down and murmuring in his ear.]
You look like you need a hand.
[the blood in the water only makes him feel more starved, torn between dragging his hand through it and lifting it to his lips, reaching down instead from where he's still partway submerged to grip his wrist hard and tug.]
donyounknow what the eucharist is?
please answer seriously
π
please answer seriously
π
[ 3am during the lockdown, in a series of separate, rapid-fire texts after he's been drinking on and off for nearly twelve hours β ]
fire in the hole
wyd
"i like you embry" don't ever say that shit to me again
are you happy
open the door it's safe
what the fuck is wrong with you
wyd
i miss your cock i miss it
is sneaking around with me that fucking bad why does it always have to be all or nothing what the fuck is wrong with you and ash and everyone
OPEN THE DOOR
parisa said don't open the door
how many times did you almost die in the war
fire in the hole
wyd
"i like you embry" don't ever say that shit to me again
are you happy
open the door it's safe
what the fuck is wrong with you
wyd
i miss your cock i miss it
is sneaking around with me that fucking bad why does it always have to be all or nothing what the fuck is wrong with you and ash and everyone
OPEN THE DOOR
parisa said don't open the door
how many times did you almost die in the war
[he's not asleep, and thank christ he's not in bed next to tim who would absolutely be wondering why his phone is pinging off notifications like fireworks on the goddammn fourth of july. alicent's here too, and he smiles politely and a little awkwardly at them both wondering who the fuck is blowing him up right now. especially when the one person who would care that much is already sitting here.
oh.
the first two he ignores. wyd - he'll have to look that one up later when he's not ready to pinch the bridge of his nose and exhale in frustration at this mess. embry is either less discreet than he bargained for or he's fucking wasted, neither of which he likes the idea of. loose lips, and all that. he's not opening the door. he doesn't know about "wyd". all he knows is that it's wrong for his cock to twitch with interest when embry says he misses it and then for his chest to pang inconveniently with guilt again when he reads the last few.]
How much have you had to drink tonight? I don't know Parisa, but tell her to cut you off.
[he should leave it at that. except.]
I sneak around with everyone. Don't take it personally. And it wasn't bad - it wasn't you.
[the scenario where pillow talk over war stories and scars is somehow the less vulnerable here is staggering, but here they are.]
Told you about the business end of that Krupp, didn't I? That's the closest.
What about you? I've seen your shoulder. Shin, too.
oh.
the first two he ignores. wyd - he'll have to look that one up later when he's not ready to pinch the bridge of his nose and exhale in frustration at this mess. embry is either less discreet than he bargained for or he's fucking wasted, neither of which he likes the idea of. loose lips, and all that. he's not opening the door. he doesn't know about "wyd". all he knows is that it's wrong for his cock to twitch with interest when embry says he misses it and then for his chest to pang inconveniently with guilt again when he reads the last few.]
How much have you had to drink tonight? I don't know Parisa, but tell her to cut you off.
[he should leave it at that. except.]
I sneak around with everyone. Don't take it personally. And it wasn't bad - it wasn't you.
[the scenario where pillow talk over war stories and scars is somehow the less vulnerable here is staggering, but here they are.]
Told you about the business end of that Krupp, didn't I? That's the closest.
What about you? I've seen your shoulder. Shin, too.
π (forgot to say this whole thread is private except alicent piously spying irl)
hymen
- 2024-08-08 23:26 (UTC) - Expand[He doesn't know how to start the conversation -- hey you broke the heart of someone I care about so much and it makes me mad but I'm also worried about you but also fuck you but also maybe I made out with your not-boyfriend but also I wouldn't have if you just put a ring on it, god, what is wrong with you Republicans maybe? Seems a bit long-winded.
So:]
What room are you in? I need to update my map.
So:]
What room are you in? I need to update my map.
[hm. seems pointed. unfortunately it's completely valid.]
Don't worry about it. Probably better off not being found over on this end anyway.
[it is for actual safety reasons. reasons he won't be going into.]
...How is he?
Don't worry about it. Probably better off not being found over on this end anyway.
[it is for actual safety reasons. reasons he won't be going into.]
...How is he?
Any time, doll.
What's going on? Don't worry about being quiet and demure, you let it all out, okay?
What's going on? Don't worry about being quiet and demure, you let it all out, okay?
[the dots are all connecting. why does he have a feeling this somehow involves an expensive tie.]
Clearly not the good kind of fucked.
Talk to me.
Clearly not the good kind of fucked.
Talk to me.
[oh here we go.]
I seem to recall you getting the two mixed up on more than one occasion. In bed.
I seem to recall you getting the two mixed up on more than one occasion. In bed.
You left things in the room. We should arrange a time for you to come get them.
I donβt need βem right now.
Besides, I -
[a pause, a soft exhale.]
I wasnβt planning on being gone forever.
Besides, I -
[a pause, a soft exhale.]
I wasnβt planning on being gone forever.
Hawk, it has been some time since we spoke. Are you keeping well?
[ between all the breakups and vampires⦠]
[ between all the breakups and vampires⦠]
Ah, Christ Alicent. Your Highness - it's been awhile. Feels like a lifetime ago, if I'm honest.
Hanging in there.
How've you been? Haven't seen you since...well, my living arrangements were different.
Hanging in there.
How've you been? Haven't seen you since...well, my living arrangements were different.
[jesus fucking christ.]
Not the first time I've called you my baby.
And you're practically as sweet as sugar.
Sugar. Baby. You want me to use it, or...?
[he knows exactly what it means.]
Not the first time I've called you my baby.
And you're practically as sweet as sugar.
Sugar. Baby. You want me to use it, or...?
[he knows exactly what it means.]
What befell Embry?
[ no preamble, uncharacteristic of the queen. ]
I ask you because of our friendship to date β and because he was dear to me.
[ no preamble, uncharacteristic of the queen. ]
I ask you because of our friendship to date β and because he was dear to me.
He was - important to me too. I need to you to understand that.
And I need you to promise me: everything I tell you is in complete confidence. I can't have this turning into a witch hunt, okay?
And I need you to promise me: everything I tell you is in complete confidence. I can't have this turning into a witch hunt, okay?
[ At the end of a long day, after his vote has been cast, and the last-ditch efforts have been made, and the shouting has finally stopped, Tim collapses into bed with Hawk, head tucked under his chin. This is usually the position that makes him settle into sleep like no other. But his mind races. It hasnβt stopped for days, and heβs grateful for it, something to focus on other than the hellfire licking at his neck. ]
The shipβs sailed on avoiding a mass panic, so we might as well run with it. We can back up the Danny allegation next round. And we should.
The shipβs sailed on avoiding a mass panic, so we might as well run with it. We can back up the Danny allegation next round. And we should.
[to say he's exhausted is an understatement. drained, physically and mentally to the bone - enough that he thinks for a change he might not be able to force himself to try and stay awake on high alert. their doors are locked on either end in both rooms, and hawk's pushed the dresser in front of the adjacent suite entrance to the bathroom to at least make a stir, unwilling to take any chances. but having tim splayed in his arms is the best medicine of all to counter all of this - so long as they can both weather it together and wind up like this, he has to keep pushing through.
his fingers trail idly over his bare arms, softly tracing absent patterns along the dips and curves of muscle and feeling the warmth of his breath and shift of his pretty jaw as it nudges against his chest. but theres a heavy sigh at the mention of danny.]
Yeah, I got that part.
But I'm handling that myself. The timing is bad, but it's a separate incident - and I'm not willing to use Embry's name to lead a charge on this.
his fingers trail idly over his bare arms, softly tracing absent patterns along the dips and curves of muscle and feeling the warmth of his breath and shift of his pretty jaw as it nudges against his chest. but theres a heavy sigh at the mention of danny.]
Yeah, I got that part.
But I'm handling that myself. The timing is bad, but it's a separate incident - and I'm not willing to use Embry's name to lead a charge on this.
I have a couple questions. If you're open to hearing them.
[It feels tentative, unsure, painfully so -- everything Koby had trusted in before the last few days rattled irrevocably. He trusts the crew, Quentin, Tim, Alicent. He isn't sure how anyone else feels about him after the disaster of the vote.
But: it's Hawk. So.]
[It feels tentative, unsure, painfully so -- everything Koby had trusted in before the last few days rattled irrevocably. He trusts the crew, Quentin, Tim, Alicent. He isn't sure how anyone else feels about him after the disaster of the vote.
But: it's Hawk. So.]
Koby - hi.
[admittedly, everything was so chaotic that night that he'd missed a few of the deeper intimacies and schisms that had grown from his group of friends over the splintered vote. he's got a feeling maybe it's something around that.]
Of course, anything. Lay it on me.
[he'll ask if he's alright after the fact.]
[admittedly, everything was so chaotic that night that he'd missed a few of the deeper intimacies and schisms that had grown from his group of friends over the splintered vote. he's got a feeling maybe it's something around that.]
Of course, anything. Lay it on me.
[he'll ask if he's alright after the fact.]
the dichotomy of this tag and the last one i wrote....all i know is pain
homosexuals
- 2024-10-15 19:46 (UTC) - ExpandLouis - jesus. I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner. It's been...christ. You saw.
He's as alright as he can be. Haven't been letting him out of my sight, but that's what I said before it all happened too and it still did.
Fuck this house, yeah. We'll have to drink to that next time. And this time you can order what you actually like.
He's as alright as he can be. Haven't been letting him out of my sight, but that's what I said before it all happened too and it still did.
Fuck this house, yeah. We'll have to drink to that next time. And this time you can order what you actually like.
Keep that guy away from me or I'm going to jail for hitting him with a dinner plate.
He thinks Christians are the most likely to be murderers because of the Spanish Inquisition
as if that has anything to do with this place or anyone in it
he's impossible.
He thinks Christians are the most likely to be murderers because of the Spanish Inquisition
as if that has anything to do with this place or anyone in it
he's impossible.
Which guy? They're all on my goddamn nerves at this rate.
I'm sorry, honey.
I'm sorry, honey.
[ no context, because he still thinks all the context is present in the message itself: ]
Wergild is a blood purse. Payment for killing another man as commoner's justice.
Proper coin within the kingdoms are counted in copper, silver, and gold. One gold dragon is worth thirty silver moons, one silver moon worth nine-and-forty copper stars, and one copper star worth six-and-fifty common pennies.
How much is your flint worth?
Wergild is a blood purse. Payment for killing another man as commoner's justice.
Proper coin within the kingdoms are counted in copper, silver, and gold. One gold dragon is worth thirty silver moons, one silver moon worth nine-and-forty copper stars, and one copper star worth six-and-fifty common pennies.
How much is your flint worth?
[don't worry aemond, hawk is picking up what ur putting down. he smiles, despite himself, when he gets the text.]
Got it. Shame we don't get those where I come from - there's a few people who could use some commoner's justice.
Not too far off from what we use. Some coins, some paper. Paper's worth 100 pennies - comes in increments of 1, 2, 5, 20, and 100.
The flint? In my world - probably about $250. [in 1954's economy, anyway.]
In yours? Well, if I'm doing the math right - a little under 5 silver moons. Don't quote me on that.
Got it. Shame we don't get those where I come from - there's a few people who could use some commoner's justice.
Not too far off from what we use. Some coins, some paper. Paper's worth 100 pennies - comes in increments of 1, 2, 5, 20, and 100.
The flint? In my world - probably about $250. [in 1954's economy, anyway.]
In yours? Well, if I'm doing the math right - a little under 5 silver moons. Don't quote me on that.
[his response doesn't come right away. he's considered it, sure. but he knows it wouldn't end well the mood he's been in. watching tim struggle, waiting for the other shoe to drop until they find out if they were right or not, the fall out with koby - he hates every goddamn minute of it. and he hates the way danny johnson brings back the memories of blood under his fingernails and up his nostrils, back to a time when killing was second nature.]
What, no conjugal visits from your fanclub yet?
What, no conjugal visits from your fanclub yet?
I have been invited to treat with the greens β or their representatives, at least, Armand and Set.
[ how funny, that she should not be green. ]
I expect they covet the numbers my family represents.
[ set has made no secret of his desire to win. ]
[ how funny, that she should not be green. ]
I expect they covet the numbers my family represents.
[ set has made no secret of his desire to win. ]
Guess I shouldn't be surprised it took them this long to catch on.
[their conversation about women being woefully underestimated still lives rent free in his brain.]
Don't need to flatter myself to think you're looking for approval here - do you want my honest opinion?
[their conversation about women being woefully underestimated still lives rent free in his brain.]
Don't need to flatter myself to think you're looking for approval here - do you want my honest opinion?
i'm just looping this in here sorry what is werewolf time etc
homosexuals
- 2024-10-22 15:07 (UTC) - ExpandYou're a gem.
It's not the morphine I'm after - I feel like these poisonings have gone under the radar. There's still someone on the loose out there.
You got any idea who's competing with the furniture in there?
It's not the morphine I'm after - I feel like these poisonings have gone under the radar. There's still someone on the loose out there.
You got any idea who's competing with the furniture in there?
[ Tim left yesterday. He's in a new room now, one Hawk won't recognize yet. It looks like it's been unoccupied and sparsely used, not cluttered and cozy the way Koby's is. ]
How long have you been with him, knowing that he talks to me like that?
How long have you been with him, knowing that he talks to me like that?
[hawk has three guesses: he's at harry's, he's at aemond's, or he's in an empty room unattached to anyone else's. hawk picks up with a sigh at the immediate note in tim's voice - like he's looking for a fight.]
Embry talks to everyone like that, Skippy.
Embry talks to everyone like that, Skippy.
hey
you know how we decided to trust each other and all that shit
you know how we decided to trust each other and all that shit
Hey, yeah. Why do I have a feeling I'm not gonna like where this is going?
[ he always let hawk decide when they met, the when and the where, but embry breaks their rules this night and shows up at hawk's door and prays to the god he doesn't believe in that tim isn't in his bed. that would be primordially fucked up, and he's already fucked up enough as it is by blasting his emotions onto both of them and receiving none of hawk's ire in return. it was almost worse for hawk to talk to him like he was losing his mind, like trying to calm a panicked horse. it feels real then. like he is losing his mind.
he's on the edge of his goddamn nerves and he doesn't want to take it out on ash, doesn't want to ask even more than he already has. ash has been the perfect lover, strong and brutal and achingly sweet, everything embry needs because ash has always been everything embry needs. and embry has been what he always is β the absolute fucking worst.
his knuckles rap on hawk's door, shoulder pressed to the jamb as he leans forward, his forehead nearly touching the wood. when it opens, his lifts his gaze, his blue eyes as bruised as a night sky, muscles tensing as if he wants to step back, as if he's reconsidering his actions of coming here at all. ]
You shouldn't have done it. [ it's the only thing he can think to say, and it covers β everything, really. danny, primarily. but them, too. on an unsteady breath β ] I don't know what to do.
[ i can't lose you. ]
he's on the edge of his goddamn nerves and he doesn't want to take it out on ash, doesn't want to ask even more than he already has. ash has been the perfect lover, strong and brutal and achingly sweet, everything embry needs because ash has always been everything embry needs. and embry has been what he always is β the absolute fucking worst.
his knuckles rap on hawk's door, shoulder pressed to the jamb as he leans forward, his forehead nearly touching the wood. when it opens, his lifts his gaze, his blue eyes as bruised as a night sky, muscles tensing as if he wants to step back, as if he's reconsidering his actions of coming here at all. ]
You shouldn't have done it. [ it's the only thing he can think to say, and it covers β everything, really. danny, primarily. but them, too. on an unsteady breath β ] I don't know what to do.
[ i can't lose you. ]
[tim's long gone. he'd packed his things in a huff, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes behind his glasses like hell was going to open beneath his feet and drag him down on the spot for taking care of danny fucking johnson himself. there are absolutely no regrets - not when the thought of losing tim on top of embry would have left him with absolutely nothing. the two people he's ever cared most for, gone. nothing left to live for. that dangerous thread starts and ends with them all in the same place. so danny had to go. embry had been right: there was something fucked up about him. serene, somehow, while he struggled in the end - like he was only half-heartedly resisting death and wanted to relish it instead as thick thumbs drove harder and harder into his windpipe.
maybe he'll have nightmares about it someday. for now, his nightmares begin and end with embry's lifeless body on the altar, tim's in the lake.
and then embry came back. he's not at liberty to question anything about it, too goddamn relieved and wondering if this is some nasty trick or a reward for what he'd done for rosie from the balfours. but there's too much happening around them now to worry about the how and the why - instead he just wants to fastforward to the part where embry is in his bed flushed with color and saturated in life again. fuck, he'd missed him more than he'd realized. he thinks back to the message he'd sent, to the funeral announcement and the eulogy and knows he might have made a fool of himself. but that's alright. a small price to pay to have the knock on his door, to drink him in at the threshold of his room before reaching for his arm and dragging him inside without a word.]
Get in here.
[it's not "get in here, because i can't be seen like this." it's not even "get in here before you make a scene," or "get in here and tell me why you broke our unspoken rules." it's get in here, let me tell you all the reasons i'd do it again and again and again in between kisses.
kisses like the one he tentatively presses against embry's forehead, hands coming up to lightly press at his cheeks, his jaw, like he's worried none of this is real and he'll wake up any minute. but his lips and his fingers prove otherwise, and there's a shaky groan at the realization that comes from somewhere deep in his chest.]
You don't have to do a goddamn thing. Just...be here. And don't ever fucking do that again.
maybe he'll have nightmares about it someday. for now, his nightmares begin and end with embry's lifeless body on the altar, tim's in the lake.
and then embry came back. he's not at liberty to question anything about it, too goddamn relieved and wondering if this is some nasty trick or a reward for what he'd done for rosie from the balfours. but there's too much happening around them now to worry about the how and the why - instead he just wants to fastforward to the part where embry is in his bed flushed with color and saturated in life again. fuck, he'd missed him more than he'd realized. he thinks back to the message he'd sent, to the funeral announcement and the eulogy and knows he might have made a fool of himself. but that's alright. a small price to pay to have the knock on his door, to drink him in at the threshold of his room before reaching for his arm and dragging him inside without a word.]
Get in here.
[it's not "get in here, because i can't be seen like this." it's not even "get in here before you make a scene," or "get in here and tell me why you broke our unspoken rules." it's get in here, let me tell you all the reasons i'd do it again and again and again in between kisses.
kisses like the one he tentatively presses against embry's forehead, hands coming up to lightly press at his cheeks, his jaw, like he's worried none of this is real and he'll wake up any minute. but his lips and his fingers prove otherwise, and there's a shaky groan at the realization that comes from somewhere deep in his chest.]
You don't have to do a goddamn thing. Just...be here. And don't ever fucking do that again.
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