Untitled @haravade - Tumblr Blog

i am here exclusively to make goose's life hell.

gemmatonis-deactivated20230702

@haravade

the smell of heady spices permeates the home in short order - pot upon the stove boiling with rather unlabored energy in the wake of kaveh's ministrations. he stares at the receptacle as if it had personally offended him, the vermillion hue of jewel toned eyes unable to hide the irritation that seeped beneath his skin. tension rolled from the man in waves - fussy behavior already made fussier in lieu of the days events. it was hard, he thinks, terribly hard when things got like this - because he wanted desperately to sink his teeth into his fortuitous roommate, to rip him to shreds with his typical vim and vigor. the feeling was amplified tenfold today, hurtful words that he stewed upon like the pot before him and a witness to his shame (the traveler, as kind as they were, had thrown him for a loop) only amplified the sensations of... upset.

kaveh was, and always would be, by nature a sentimental and emotional creature. he tried and he tried so hard - clumsiness with words and emotions and a brash attitude to accentuate the golden earnestness with which he lived his life. his soft edges were too often torn by the rigidity of alhaitham's cold and hard ones and he'd long since stopped trying to bandage the pieces. too many times it left him raw and aching - like now - with the scribe utterly unawares of what a archon's damned stupid sumpter beast brained idiot he was. inwardly, the architect moaned. his life was so hard.

spoon dips into the soup mixture before him, raising it slowly to the man at his side. " taste. " he commands, tone flat and - as always - bossy. the moment the traveler had left - he'd started cooking. all day he'd cleaned. swept, mopped, organized, even tidied up alhaitham's desk in the study and his own drafting table while the acting grand sage himself was out fighting god knows what with the savior of sumeru, and not for the first time in the past few months kaveh has to wonder how the hell he ended up here: keeping house while this sly bastard was out making waves.

oh it made him so mad.

he deposits the spoon back in the pot, stirring twice, before calloused digits slide in a bit more mustard seed, always liberal in his usage. " you know, i get that your blood was running a little hot earlier - but telling me i work myself to death for a smile from a client? commenting on my taste of decor? calling me a light weight? oh you are something else, alhaitham, you know that? you have so much nerve - after i've spent all day cleaning, and cooking and i hardly care that you were out solving akademiya problems with a little elbow grease. i at least deserve some respect and a thank you! "

kaveh doesn't even let him respond - doesn't let the scribe get a word in edgewise, for the second his mouth opens, he pops the spoon inside again, and fixes him with that familiar, aggravated look. " do i make myself clear? "

haravade

kaveh - was fickle. capricious as paint arbitrarily strewn. often, were its culminations still attracting to the eye but the process was erroneous, vexingly inefficacious. If his preference were for things pragmatic than his roommate was less than an ideal associate. as a tumultuous storm often did before it broke, he was seething. delineated in the way he squared his shoulders; defensive, in the whetted jeweles of ruby that bore into him; resentful. he had spoken in candor of his paintings asymmetrical hanging, he should have been thankful he was not too honest and said how ostentatious it truly was. “ if you continue to brood like that you’re going to become a disruption.” his reprimand intruded upon kaveh’s haven, a kitchen sanctuary where he may have thought he was safe from the infuriating lilt of alhaitham’s voice, but he wasn’t; it was his house after all. the blonde tenses, his plumage bristles in umbrage and he could not help but surmise that the stirring had intensified in vigor. on his heel kaveh spins, intent the wrath that darkened his expression, had his lips downturned in chagrin. then he spoke and as he often did, it was a fusillade of complaints. how unfair was it, that he had a place to call home when his pockets were accumulating nothing but dust. his rant ends with a huff, no doubt emphasizing the injustice of kaveh’s world. without a sliver of forewarning does he thrust the spoon into alhaitham’s mouth; it was a delectable symphony of flavors, spices scrupulously chosen for their impact on the dish. If anything, the architect was good at things other than amassing clutter. he meets kaveh’s eyes, ruminating upon the flavors and then, whilst still holding his gaze he says “ thank you.” in a cadence that is nothing less than brusque.

#ic /#nice soup <3

mmmairon

cant stand him !!!!!!!

#god kaveh me too.

when he wont give u the gem.

shipping w/ him is just listening to him prattle on about this book he's reading for 10 hours straight and not letting you get a word in.

#its a v boring book too.

♢ ❝ 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ❞

@gemmatonis

goose told me my verbiage is good for writing alhaitham and now im going to die.

#my wordy words finally look good on someone.#and it has to be HIM.

it's not unusual for the architect to find alhaitham in the throes of work at all odd hours these days - acting grand sage a role that dictated fulfillments in a way that he couldn't possibly understand. still, where they had once regularly seen each other - their encounters had dwindled (for kaveh's schedule was as regular as the forest rains), and when they did cross paths - alhaitham looked two steps away from dropping dead on their floor.

annoyances that would usually find him in the presence of alhaitham's mess are distinctly absent lately - if only because he's pretty sure he watched alhaitham fall asleep in his pudding the other day and even kaveh has a heart. it's really no surprise when he finds him here - slumped over the desk in his office at their home, with the candles burning low and the shutters drawn tight. he'd come in intent on raising hell (his keys. gone. again), but the way the scholar lay slumped upon parchment, ink well gone dry and tomes scattered about him...

kaveh sighs, long fingertips dipping gently over the younger's spine as he approaches. the touch is painstakingly gentle, and he debates simply covering alhaitham with a blanket and leaving him here, but he's too tall, the position is surely uncomfortable. so downwards he leans, cool lips pressing supplicant to the other's temple with a gentle murmur near his ear pieces.

" haitham. " dulcet tones, soft and sweet, a rare display from a man who usually would wake him by twisting a nipple or pinching his cheek. his palm spreads wide over his back, rubbing gently now to coerce him to wakefulness. " wake up. your bed is a much better spot for this, hm? "

The akademiya was nothing but a recital of dictums from the mouths of those who claimed altruism impelled their motives. truly, they were nothing less than acquisitive, donning the guise of humanitarianism as if it were a well liked trait. his preference for working in solitude had been unabating but for the time being, the scribe had ascended from his favored reticence into a seat of far greater influence and in turn, demand. It was enervating, inspecting the documents, elegant scrawl in response to letters of request; perseverance as dusk waned to darkness, the candles undulating softly. the hours were often lost between moments of stolen respite and gracile fingers pursing a quill to the well of sable ink and combating all that inundated the once burnished karmaphala in its white, arbitrary anarchy. such was the condemnation that tethered to the title, transient, or otherwise. an evening of solitude, mellifluous symphonies of tranquility lulled him into a fleeting slumber; his ever raucous roommate was absent, a preferable recourse if he were to be candid. the strident clashing of tool upon metal, or the rustling of his ever present myriad of scrolls would do little to appease the tension rousing behind his eyes. he was a fool to believe his serenity would be conserved. yet there was no strident reprimand, nor did kaveh’s stalk through the halls with his ever irate footfalls. In this moment, perhaps of a dreamscape rather than reality; was he gentle - considerate. a solitary eye opens, lashes scarcely caress his cheek, he’s not particularly interested in rousing. “ if i am dreaming - i would prefer not to wake.” he muttered, pressing his face into the arch of kaveh’s throat.

#ic /#u get my first alh ever.#if it sucks dont blame me blame #someone else <3