homosexuals | [SALTBURNT INBOX]

[ 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. I still meant what I said before. But you should see this.

Maybe it would matter more if we were born fifty years later.

This is real, though. Not one of this place’s tricks. I was told by someone who was alive then.

I thought you would want to know.

[ It’s not signed. He’s confident it doesn’t 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.

I'm going to your room to get you some clothes. Is there anything else you need?

[ 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 — which isn’t embry’s concern as he trudges through the sad-looking baths, once populated with sexiness and nudity, and now empty. he’s almost glad for it, though. ever since the wolfman had gotten its claws into him, embry hasn’t 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 it’s good that the baths are empty, because he’s the last person anyone should be around right now.

he’s bleeding again, his hastily bandaged wounds demanding attention from a professional, but embry doesn’t want to seek out any of the judgemental staff, and he doesn’t 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 he’s wanted her. no, he has to stay away. from her. from everyone. it’s easy enough to take care of himself here while no one’s 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 he’d 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 he’s 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? it’s 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. ]

donyounknow what the eucharist is?

please answer seriously

😀

[ 3am during the lockdown, in a series of separate, rapid-fire texts after he's been drinking on and off for nearly twelve hours — ]

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 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.

can i talk to you about something? not a good something. unrelated to this place, too. but this place is so quiet sometimes and i'm gonna lose my mind keeping it in my head.

hey. i need some advice.

[ more like he needs some help. possibly he needs a lobotomy. ]

i think i'm fucked.

i chose you over GOD

You left things in the room. We should arrange a time for you to come get them.

Hawk, it has been some time since we spoke. Are you keeping well?

[ between all the breakups and vampires… ]

Am I your sugar baby?

What befell Embry?

[ no preamble, uncharacteristic of the queen. ]

I ask you because of our friendship to date — and because he was dear to me.

[ 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 hasn’t stopped for days, and he’s grateful for it, something to focus on other than the hellfire licking at his neck. ]

The ship’s 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.

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.]

You good?

Saw Tim was hurt. Know I'm not the person anyone wants around but I got you if you need it. Glad you're both okay.

Fuck this house.

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.

[ 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?

( danny gives it a couple days of waiting, but when hawk doesn't show, inevitably: )

you ain't gonna come say hi?

I have been invited to treat with the greens — 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. ]

want me to get you the morphine so you don't have to be seen around the den?

[ 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?

hey
you know how we decided to trust each other and all that shit

[ 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 — 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 — everything, really. danny, primarily. but them, too. on an unsteady breath — ] I don't know what to do.

[ i can't lose you. ]

delivery

text;

un: t.laughlin

— at the baths (blanket cw for blood, unsafe sex, etc. there are no role models present)

sorry.

text — un: LITTLEPRINCE

text; un: koby

text ; @maxxxine

text — un: LITTLEPRINCE

drunk texts 😔