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They would say that it began like this: the praised Light of Kshahrewar—women over him and men envious and all that, pretty jewels and golden hair and bright eyes and all the good from every corner of Teyvat in one, glorified man—against Sumeru’s most discreet, oddest evil; tight lips and dark cape and bitter stings, as it always has been—they fight ceaselessly.
“You brought this upon yourself, and you know that well,”
They’d love to say that it is a frightening, most obscure battle between the two extremes of Teyvat, and so, in some way, it is; they'd love to weave tales of the good and the evil and the years-long war, fierce and cruel.
“Me? I did nothing! You came barging in my room with—with your insipid lump of clothes and—”
“You,” A step, and then two, and then there is barely an inch left between their faces, and what a strange thing hatred is; “were meant to do laundry this week. And you didn't. Of course—too busy saving the world to be good for anything else?”
“I did not forget the laundry. I was tired. Not everyone has this strict bedtime thing you got and nor does anyone—I hope—stoop your level of low and blame me for doing what I must,”
“You must return at three in the morning and put your dirty clothes for me to clean after. Isn’t that right?”
And, they would then say that it is rather unfortunate that this would all be spent fighting each other, rather about chores and homes because the only thing that may save the people of Sumeru might be love and really, it is difficult when—
“Fuck you, Alhaitham!”
—Sumeru's somewhat fatal saviour and mortal enemy live under the same roof.
These days, Kaveh thinks he might just die of hypothermia or insomnia or, more likely, vigilantism before he reaches an age where he gets to flaunt his thirty-years old furniture and old yellow frames with pictures he clicked with an outdated Kamera and the supposed age old wine he forgot in the pantry when he was twenty. So, all things considered, when he stands before his bed, eyes twitching and shoulders humped, he accepts that the universe has kindly decided that no, he can suffer a little longer and that yes, he is built for this.
Kaveh prods at Alhaitham’s shoulder, his knee on the bed and he also accepts that Alhaitham just hates him. Like he’s supposed to, but Archons it’s freezing and Kaveh is cold and Alhaitham is sprawled over the bed like the supervillain he is and the sun will sadly grace their windows in two hours. Probably.
“Move over.”
He’s awake, naturally. He can only haunt Kaveh awake. “No.”
“Alhaitham,” Kaveh hisses, throwing away Alhaitham’s blanket.
Alhaitham peeks with an eye open, unimpressed, and simply says, “What.”
“Please?” There is a groan stuck to his throat that he does not voice out in favour of sleeping after being chased by at least three desert foxes on the outskirts of the Land of Lower Setekh and he still feels sand scratching his feet with its night cool tingling his insides.
Alhaitham, to his credit, shuffles around a little—just enough for Kaveh to fit in; it's a small bed but the heater broke three years ago and inflation is not a very convenient thing to deal with. Contrary to popular beliefs, vigilantism isn't a high paying job neither is villainism, but Alhaitham gets to have a nice cushy job at the Akademiya when he isn't out for Kaveh's neck and Kaveh, like most heroes don't, doesn't get enough sleep or salary to deal with desert foxes and petty thieves.
Bodies flush, breaths mingle, the poor blanket strewn, legs entangled and pillows overlapped; the eccentricity of it all that neither Kaveh nor Alhaitham question — the key is that maybe the heater could have been fixed years ago, and maybe they don't need to cramp up in this small sad bed on every summer night either too, but inflation and economy changes a few things.
"Did you put your clothes in the washing machine?" Alhaitham asks a beat later, turning to the other side.
"Yeah, yeah," Kaveh hums, spreading out the blanket, "Am I supposed to ask if you scared your coworkers off to an early retirement?" He huffs a laugh, and his eyes start to droop with it.
"They did nothing wrong for me to be against them in any manner."
"Only if you'd apply that on me,"
"If I did, we'd be off our ways with nothing to converse about while twiddling our thumbs."
“Maybe,” He agrees, tired. “Or you could go for an early retirement, let the good win and live the rest of your life doing… old man stuff?"
“Then you would have no purpose,” Alhaitham whispers like it’s obvious, and maybe he's a little right. Kaveh doesn't want to think that, not really. “No hero would, and you wouldn't be an exception. You would, too, wither away along with me.” And — isn't that obvious? Isn't it scary?
Kaveh rolls over, looping an arm around Alhaitham and he says, “You could have just said no, but you have to rub your drying vocabulary at what looks like early morning,”
Alhaitham kicks him lightly on his calf. “I only say because who are you fighting out there? Unless you have lost your mind enough to hallucinate, which well—I am not keeping it off the table.”
“I got chased by desert foxes and uh,” a flourish of the hand, lick of his lips, “Eremites? You know the drill, kind of, The Mahamatra showed up late but that was dealt with—eventually—and then I got stuck in a tree and—well.”
"Look at the Light of Kshahrewar now, fighting his inner demons at three in the morning because he has nothing better to do."
Kaveh kicks him hard under the sheet and shuffles away. “You make me sick. It's like you're a communicable disease and I'm the sole patient."
"How lonely."
“Ugh, forget that, tell me did you really fail that one guy who submitted the list of terrible pick-up lines—?"
“Yes, Kaveh, because he even submitted a sequel to that with puns that are probably stolen from Cyno's theatrics. It’s as if Cyno and The Mahamatra somehow fused all their dialogues and presented it to me in all its glory. These days I wouldn’t even be surprised if they actually turn out to be related somehow."
"Alhaitham," Kaveh begins very seriously, "Isn't it too cruel?"
"I'm a supervillain, Kaveh. I am—supposed to be cruel."
"But think about the kid!"
“He will find himself sulking and drowning in his own fears as he receives the report, and he will realise that this thesis was meant to make up half of his grade, and he will then realise it is now inevitable, and he will go home like that. Then he will come to me the next day begging me for another chance.”
"... Villainous."
Deck the halls
@w_gaso_line
*pulls you in and ties you up* Can we please talk about their matching suits. Please.
Gonna give you up
@dragonnesss15
Bestie they're out for each other is it rlly a concern right now
Deck the halls
@w_gaso_line
But the palette. Them. theyre so silly.
Staree
@stare
Did u write that 5k smut oneshot pwp and master/slave lemon fic
Deck the halls
@w_gasoline
Did you like it
Staree
@stare
Yes
Deck the halls
@w_gaso_line
Lets kiss
Eclaires
@ilostmyslippers
No but has anyone seen the bad emo guy actually do something evil. At all. Like. Has burned down a school sort of thing or have we all just collectively agreed he looks highkey evil
Pink Clouds
@cottoncandies
He — 1. Probably gets eight hours of sleep 2. Sorts his mental gymnastics out properly
theforestranger_ssocks
@c632281
3. He looks smart enough to do bad shit
The thing is that Alhaitham doesn't even do anything. He has a cushy job at the Akademiya, a stable salary, a comfortable house and all of his shit together and well. He doesn't have a white Persian cat that he'd stroke as Kaveh would discover him and say in the mimic of his deep voice, So I have been found, and they would fight till they are all tatters and wounds.
And, that is precisely why he is so deafening. That is what makes him formidable, what makes them anticipate his next scheme or his long awaited death ray or Kaveh's demise. Anything, really. Media is sadly rather dry, and maybe at a point when they are bound to get tired of actress Chaoxi's unfaithful husband’s scandal.
And the crux of it is also this: Kaveh does too many things. There is no magic for him, or super-masks and super-suits, instead he has a little suitcase he repaired all alone in his mother’s basement and an unnecessarily elaborate suit that gets sweaty and dirty in a week. Kaveh can’t pick up cars or fix the network wiring or heal what has been hurt—these things don’t have spells for them; he stumbles a little when he walks, staggers when he picks, and falls with a single blow. That is the secret, maybe—Kaveh isn’t that strong, and he can’t face the world, and he doesn’t weep gems and glitter. Best secrets kept open and all that.
And thus, is how Kaveh and Alhaitham come to be; two, always two, because without Kaveh, Alhaitham is just a man, just a boy, and without him, Kaveh is not the good anymore: without him, Kaveh can't exist. Good cannot exist without evil, and how easy it is to love and to hate each other, because for them—it is only inevitable, some imminent thing that does not wait to happen because it's already done since they have come to be.
To defeat a villain, they need a saviour and to save a saviour, they need a villain, because this one is chipped and torn and a little worn, and love all floundering. How easy it is to hate each other; how easy it is to love.
My roommate comes home late I want to eat dinner with him
Did you mean: My husband comes home late I want to eat dinner with him
Am I
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My roommate comes home late what should I do
Top results: My boyfriend comes home late at night, what should I do?
I just want to have dinner with my roommate
First, try telling him how you feel—
I want to throw a pan at my roommate
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Am I gay quiz
Coming in: The Hawk—spotted at The House of Daena.
“He was there! I swear!” The people believe; and perhaps the strangest matter here is that there were not many people in The House of Daena and as we assess, no harm either. But that is what evokes fear shrouding The Hawk: what is he doing? What will he do? What is happening?
“I was on duty at the time,” A staff member at the House of Daena reports, with requested anonymity. She is clearly shaken. “I heard nothing, of course—hardly people come here around that time. The only people I did see were a few Akademiya students, and they too were immersed in their books to pay attention. They left before The Hawk entered.”
Another staff member reports, “I saw no one, nothing. No footsteps, no shuffling. Nothing. And that is the scary part, if you ask me—what did he take?”
And most importantly, what is he planning? The House of Daena hosts a broad range of information, age old and new. Some, if searched with precision, may hold certain bits that are limited even in the media. If these books—Archons forbid—go to the wrong people, in the wrong hands, especially those of The Hawk, Archons save us.
“I was simply borrowing a book.” Says another man outside The House of Daena around the time of the scene, he does not look shaken or disturbed, but even he must be rather shocked. “I did not see anyone or anything.” He adds and moves along, and markedly he must be eager to retell this back home. What a narrow escape he has made.
“They are rather after you,” Kaveh hums, popping an apple slice in his mouth and stirring the pan on the stove. “Why would you show up like that?”
“They would either think I am dead or I am planning something more nefarious if I prolonged my absence.” Alhaitham shrugs, “I merely told them the truth.”
Kaveh laughs at that, drowned by sizzles and splutters. “You think?”
Alhaitham instead asks, “No patrol today?”
“Forest Ranger and The Mahamatra are at it today, and for some reason, they told me to stay back, so.” He says, transferring the curry from the pan to their plates. All the red peppers in Alhaitham’s plate, more cream in his. “I was tired of being the third wheel anyway.”
“Mn.”
“That’s not a reply,” Kaveh mutters, setting down the plate on opposite ends.
Alhaitham eventually marks his page and sets down the book, makes his way to the table and—
Well, he smiles.
A bit. Like, barely on his lips. Like the sort of smile that isn’t even there. It’s not all teeth and cheeks and it doesn’t even reach his eyes. It’s—just smiling. Kaveh’s breath stutters a little, he ignores it like he always does and has and will, he sits down and stares at his plate for a good minute. Archons, he should have tagged along with the patrol but he hasn’t and now his palms are all sweaty and he is smiling all giddy too.
Alhaitham kicks him under the table.
“Stop putting red peppers only to push them on my plate.”
Kaveh scoffs, “They are for you! When I don’t put them, you brood in a corner and complain and when I do you—”
“I don’t know how you spew so much rubbish every time you open your mouth, Kaveh.”
“Ugh.” He groans, chewing his food quickly, “If you aren’t going to make a death ray for me, I might as well do it for you one day!”
“You can try,” Alhaitham mocks. Not like he doubts Kaveh, probably not; he has seen Mehrak and he has had his headsets repaired more times than he can count already, but he just likes seeing the universe hate Kaveh.
“Whatever,” Kaveh mumbles under his breath. “Why were you at The House of Daena anyway?”
“Pray tell, oh Light of Kshahrewar, why should one go to a library?”
Kaveh bristles at that, wiping his plate clean at once. “Forget I even asked,”
Alhaitham sighs, “I went there for a book obviously,” He says, “The contents of which would not interest you.”
“Huh.”
“You’re telling me,” Forest Ranger says very calmly and seriously and maybe a little nauseous, “You live with The Hawk?”
Kaveh takes a step back, “...yes?”
“He is your—our—mortal enemy.” The Mahamatra says flatly. It sounds more confusing than anything.
“Um,” Kaveh smiles a little, sloppily and unconvincingly, “Yes?”
“Oh,” Forest Ranger mutters, a step back and then two, “My,” He doubles over and — “Archons. Have we been—fighting your husband all along?”
“No? I mean—he isn’t my husband—we just decided to keep a work-life balance.”
“...Work life balance,” The Mahamatra repeats slowly and mortified and very confused.
“Yes—?”
“Do you,” Forest Ranger begins, equally mortified, “realise how strange that sounds?”
“No?” Kaveh chuckles nervously, “It's completely fair! It's inconvenient to kill somebody you're sharing a house with, look. One, I would have to do the dishes all by myself, two, I would have to pay his rent, and three, I wouldn't get a good night's rest. And it's mutually beneficial too. We agreed to not try killing each other at home because he said he'd have to pay off the rent alone and the mess and my funeral.”
The crickets buzz around them loudly and silence is orchestrating, like this. A minute and then two and —
“... Kaveh? Is that you?”
thehawksmanboobs
I dont know if the hawk is just a dad who wants to read his nerdy shit in peace or if Doofenshmirtz found a way to actually travel through dimensions and now hes out with his tits facing the world
↳ Babeismelledavigilante
Not the Doofenshmirtz reference im crying Jo what is this
↳ Themahamatraspants
"Tits facing the world" Girl what.
↳ thehawksmanboobs
Girl dinner
Gayshitstarry
Light of kshahrewar honestly sounds like somebody who has lost all worthy life possessions to animals and now living with fifteen existential crises every day
#I don't know how to feel knowing a superhero guy is probably a broke college student living off of his parents' money #No but what if he's Just Some Guy who decided one day "fuck this fuck that I'm saving the world" #giving the rpf writers ideas #Every rpf writer out there write this down and break into my house to shove it in my face because yes I'm reading that shit
↳ Babeismelledavigilante
sleep with one eye open because ive already opened my docs
There is also this: between the many hard-back, yellow-pages of Alhaitham’s bookshelf, there is a newer one—it has the imprints of The House of Daena, and not his. Maybe in a week’s worth of time, Kaveh will stumble upon it as he cleans the shelves, or if he looks properly; Alhaitham is hardly a man of many secrets—no, he is a man built upon bitter truths and half-truths and half-lies, but there is a book, and this one is neither.
Am I Gay or Just Homophobic? A Journey on Self Discovery — so it is, as The House of Daena does hold answers for those who ask.