#ragesin

Continued from here

So, this guy didn’t know either.

He took the disappointment with an apathetic stare over at the wall, slumping back into his chair. From that height his legs angled out crooked, just slightly too long to align right with the floor.

“Not really – just hoped I might be able to move on through the woods before it gets dark.”

Lie. Truth. He was in a rush. He was always in a rush. Lingering long in any one location never panned out into anything good…not for someone like him, anyway. The mere thought of being stuck there conjured a dull twinge of unease in his stomach – a feeling that persisted in the reality, too, clinging to him like a stifling blanket.

So, the latter was true - he really did want to move on. His companion didn’t need to know the true reason, though - or the constant underlying urgency.

@ragesin reported — if he's considered old now imagine what he'll be like at heihachi's age.

no mention is made about the fact he's dropping in out of the blue, waltzing into the shop without a care in the world and a simple greeting of ' yo, honey ! ', already a few days late, but surely it's the thought that counts.

it's a simple thing decorated in a eye catching white ribbon, the slight crookedness of the bow hinting the speed with which rough fingers deftly tugged it into place. a baked treat for the baker who probably made bank on days like these selling sweets to gluttons whipped into a flustered tizzy. within a fresh array of customary chocolates was inlaid atop velvet lining in three spaced rows and begging to be eaten. a couple even carry the meticulous detail work shaping them into the visage of tiny birds, surprise flavour bursting with every bite. he's sure he's probably got it down this time around. ❝ bet you didn't think someone like me was also trained in the art of cooking ! ❞

anyone else might have rightly rolled their eyes at his flourishing, but honey was ever happy to indulge someone determined to show off—rewarding his feat of dexterity with a bright smile and a wince of surprise once the box was finally brandished her way, head slanting curiously as she looked it over. uncomplicated as the packaging may be, it tells a story with its little creases and slightly-askew decor; a prologue which betrays the delicate, lavish menagerie within…the kind of tale which sees her mien soften, a little, if only for a moment of sincerity before the playfulness and slightly overdone flattery reclaims its place:

❝ you made all this? my, my, meli-wellie—are you trying to make me worry about my job security? ooh, or are you trying to kick off the rival arc in my hero’s journey? i could get on board with that. ❞ honey coos, delighted, while plucking out one of the decorated treats and gently smoothing her thumb over the design; tracing the shape of a tiny wing with due praise. 

❝ i might not have imagined it on my own, no, but i can’t exactly say i’m surprised. you strike me as the kind of guy who could find a knack for just about anything you set your mind to. ❞

…and one who had more than enough time at his back to explore those avenues. the seemingly endless cycle of it all would certainly seem to drag on all the more without a bit of diversion from time to time, wouldn’t it? ah, but that thought is one too melancholy to mull over, too bitter to linger on when she could be savoring the sweetness he’s granted.

which she does: finally popping one of the bonbon birdies over her lips and biting through its candy shell, rewarded by the tart taste of freshly macerated berries layered atop silky ganache; followed soon after by a warm, satisfied hum. it was no wonder why these times would always see her business stirred up to such fury—there were few joys as simple and reliable as indulging in a little treat, from time to time, especially those made with love.

❝ mmm ! — well, well, color me impressed, mr. chocolatier ! if you ever get tired of the tavern-owner-and-intrepid-adventurer shtick, you could have a bright future ahead of you in the sugar world…but, that aside—

An interesting answer.

He reached up, scratching under the chin of the feline on his shoulder. “The afterlife. Things witnessed only by the unseen, unbound by walls and time,” he reflected.

A potential never-ending well of secrets.

Ah…but such things always had a price, did they not?

Leaning forward, the man gently swirled the liquid in his cup, regarding the other with a still present smile.

( ragesin. ) ━━━━━━ "You look like you could use a day off." / hanamaru looks like. . .

                 ❛    I . . . I   do?    ❜    your   voice   wavers   as   you   press   a   hand   to   your   forehead.   you   don’t   need   a   mirror   to   know   how   worn   you   must   look    ━━━━    eyes   dull,   posture   slouched,   running   on   exhaust.

Continued from a discussion of devilish deals

His answer tipped the corners of her own smile – a curious, soft dusting of amusement settling across her face.

“Quite true,” she mused as the glass spun gently between her fingers.

@ragesin reported — 🙂💖🌟 keke! ur the best as always!!

🙂 How are you, mun?,💖 I love you, mun!, 🌟 You're my favorite blog — Com-MUN-ication Meme | accepting

// KALLLLLL 🩵 I love you too!! I'm good today!

𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊.     elaine’s  favorite  things  to  do  with  ban  ,  both  before  and  after  their  separation  in  the  fairy  king’s  forest  ,  reflect  the  gentle  yearning  and  wonder  that  defines  their  bond  —  born  in  stillness  ,  deepened  in  loss  ,  and  revived  through  aching  memory.  he  came  to  the  forest  simply  wishing  to  steal  the  fountain  of  youth  and  she  held  a  strong  dislike  (  dare  i  say  ,  hatred  for  humans  ):  they  both  came  out  of  it  gaining  something  else  :  elaine  learning  not  to  distrust  an  entire  group  of  people  for  the  actions  of  a  few  and  for  ban  ,  living  and  fighting  for  someone  else.  it's  like  king  said  :  seven  days  healed  seven  hundred  years  of  loneliness  ,  depression  ,  and  heartache.  neither  of  them  enjoyed  gestures  that  were  loud  or  grand  —  the  pair  more-so  preferred  soft  things  ,  tender  things  ,  stolen  and  stitched  into  forever.  because  to  love  ban  ,  for  her  ,  was  to  be  reminded  that  even  a  fairy  born  to  guard  a  fountain  can  long  for  human  warmth  —  and  be  loved  just  as  fiercely  in  return.

𝘽𝙀𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙀  𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂,

𝒊.  𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅  𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆  :   elaine  adored  listening  to  ban’s  tales  of  the  outside  world  (  half-true  ,  half-boast  ,  all  wild  glitter  ):  and  how  ,  he  made  the  world  feel  enormous  and  she  loved  imagining  it  through  his  eyes  —  bustling  taverns  ,  pirate  ships  ,  golden  towers.  she’d  sit  beside  him  on  a  root-woven  throne  ,  eyes  wide  and  soft  ,  asking  questions  like  a  child  learning  to  dream.  it  was  amazing  for  her  ,  to  have  more  gaps  filled  in  and  listening  to  the  various  advancements  of  mortal  society  ,  in  the  time  that  she'd  been  the  guardian.  it  was  a  different  kind  of  happiness  it  brought  her  ,  at  first.  she  had  only  been  able  to  listen  to  bits  and  pieces  for  centuries  but  ban  ,  was  someone  with  context  and  he  ,  too  would  fond  over  the  things  elaine  had  imagined  up  based  on  what  she'd  simply  be  hearing  through  the  flowers  across  the  years.

𝒊𝒊.  𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔  𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  :   on  quiet  nights  ,  ban  would  point  at  constellations  and  give  them  names  that  had  nothing  to  do  with  what  they  truly  were  —  ❝  that  one’s  greedy  dog  ,❞  he’d  say.  ❝  the  one  next  to  it?  hiccuping  princess.  ❞  elaine  would  laugh  and  correct  him  —  at  first  gently  ,  then  teasingly  ,  then  not  at  all  ,  just  letting  his  absurd  cosmos  become  real.  she'd  taught  him  all  the  proper  names  of  constellations  and  was  surprised  ,  that  the  few  that  ban  did  know  the  proper  names  of  where  different.  but  that  was  to  be  expected.  elaine  was  a  fairy  and  ban  ,  a  human.  she  first  and  foremost  knew  the  common  tongue  of  the  faerie  realm  and  her  clan.  it  should've  been  no  surprise  that  the  two  different  species  would  know  of  things  differently.  but  ,  it  was  to  elaine.  it  was  how  their  bits  and  pieces  of  cultural  exchange  started  :  elaine  would  tell  him  the  name  in  her  language  and  also  ,  if  she  knew  the  origins  of  its  title  and  ban  would  fill  in  the  gaps  with  his  knowledge  too.  it  was  due  to  this  that  lead  into  their  next  favorite  thing  to  do  together.

𝒊𝒊𝒊.  𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  :   this  habit  began  simply  —  with  a  tattered  book  on  different  ales  that  ban  thought  might  amuse  her.  but  by  the  next  visit  ,  he  had  brought  one  on  the  stars  ,  and  elaine’s  quiet  world  opened  just  a  little  wider.  astrology  ,  he  called  it  —  the  study  of  the  heavens  (  of  ancient  light  and  wandering  flame  ):  she  clutched  those  pages  like  precious  treasure  ,  devouring  every  constellation  as  if  to  memorize  the  map  of  a  sky  she'd  never  been  allowed  to  touch.  elaine  loved  it  —  not  just  the  learning  ,  but  the  reclaiming.  each  fact  was  a  shard  of  the  world  returned  to  her.  she  was  centuries  old  ,  yes  ,  but  it  was  ban  who  made  her  feel  once  more  as  the  first  time  she'd  opened  her  eyes  cradled  in  that  field  of  lavender  —  made  her  want  to  know  more  ,  reach  further  ,  dream  bigger.  and  he  watched  her  with  the  same  reverence  he  might  give  the  sunrise  —  the  way  her  eyes  lit  up  (  how  her  lips  shaped  every  new  discovery  like  a  prayer  ):  there  was  a  day  she  said  ,  half-whisper  ,  that  she  wanted  to  touch  a  star  —  to  feel  if  it  truly  burned  as  brightly  as  the  books  said.  and  ban  ,  all  grin  and  trouble  and  heart  ,  told  her  he  couldn’t  pluck  a  star  from  the  sky  ,  but  he  could  give  her  something  close  —  a  little  fire  of  his  own.  then  ,  the  next  day  ,  he  returned  with  his  favorite  ale  ,  just  for  her  and  he  called  it  burning  starlight  in  a  bottle.

𝒊𝒗.  𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓  𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆  :   elaine  ,  wanting  ban  to  learn  more  of  what  it  means  to  be  a  fairy  (  of  what  it  means  to  be  so  connected  to  flora  and  fauna  ):  began  to  teach  ban  floriography.  she  started  small  at  first  like  when  they'd  sometimes  ,  they  wandered  through  the  forest  just  to  gather  whatever  blossoms  had  fallen  petals  that  called  to  them  —  elaine  would  be  clad  in  her  simple  white  dress  all  barefoot  in  the  moss  would  speak  with  a  bit  of  aged  wisdom  to  her.  detailing  the  meaning  behind  each  flower  ,  even  breaking  it  down  into  colors.  ban  at  first  had  pretended  not  to  care  but  always  pointing  out  the  flowers  that  matched  matched  not  only  elaine  (  her  hair  ,  her  eyes  ,  her  laugh  ):  but  also  ,  all  the  feelings  he  never  spoke  on  before  her  and  ones  that  he  now  felt  because  of  her.  elaine  would  press  petals  into  the  old  pages  of  ban's  book  of  ale  or  string  them  into  little  garlands  ,  draping  them  over  his  shoulders  like  stolen  crowns.  for  elaine  ,  it  was  something  she'd  always  did  to  help  make  the  centuries  less  lonely  and  for  ban  ,  it  was  just  another  glimpse  into  the  holy  maiden's  world.  neither  never  really  said  why  they  did  it  —  it  wasn’t  for  potions  or  rituals  or  anything  sacred.  it  was  just  theirs  —  a  quiet  ritual  of  beauty  ,  of  choosing  softness  in  a  world  that  had  been  so  cruel  to  them  both.

𝒗.  𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  :   what  made  their  time  special  wasn’t  only  the  things  they  did  ,  but  how  quiet  and  sacred  it  felt.  ban  never  rushed  elaine  ,  never  filled  the  silence  if  she  didn’t  want  to.  she  ,  who  had  lived  centuries  guarding  the  fountain  alone  ,  found  in  him  someone  who  understood  the  weight  of  time  and  didn’t  demand  she  speak  to  fill  it.  and  neither  of  them  knew  what  to  call  the  strange  stillness  between  their  hearts  ,  but  elaine  loved  brushing  her  fingers  against  his  when  they  walked  through  the  forest.  she  loved  the  rare  times  she  dared  braid  flowers  into  his  hair  ,  or  when  she'd  gotten  drunk  with  him  and  ban  had  made  her  feel  anything  but  small  ,  she  felt  like  elaine  outside  of  duty  and  her  clan  and  what  she  was  born  into.

𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍  𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂,

𝒊.  𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕  𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈  :   elaine  cherished  the  smallest  things  —  the  way  ban’s  shoulders  curled  when  he  crouched  to  tend  a  fire  ,  the  way  he  rubbed  his  nose  when  he  was  embarrassed  ,  how  he  never  forgot  the  way  she  loved  every  kind  of  bread  (  especially  sweetbreads  ,  even  if  she  now  knew  their  proper  name  was  cake  ):  she  didn’t  take  time  for  granted  anymore  —  so  she  drank  him  in  ,  quietly  ,  joyfully.  and  ban  did  the  same  to  elaine  in  return.

𝒊𝒊.  𝒇𝒍𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒃𝒂𝒏  𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔  :   with  ban  being  the  reason  that  her  wings  grew  ,  elaine  took  every  opportunity  to  carry  him.  to  show  him  the  vastness  of  the  world  he  used  to  tell  her  about.  she  loved  the  startled  awe  in  his  face  when  they  broke  through  cloudbanks  ,  when  she  whispered  ,  ❝  look  ,  we  could  touch  a  star  now.  ❞  and  it  was  his  turn  to  see  the  world  from  her  eyes.  it  was  also  elaine's  way  of  getting  ban  close  enough  to  touch  an  actual  star  in  her  own  way  ,  just  as  he'd  done  for  her  before.

𝒊𝒊𝒊.  𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉  𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  :   elaine  ,  fully  embraced  the  terms  around  her  birth  and  what  that  meant.  she  relished  any  moment  she  could  stand  between  ban  and  danger  (  hoping  to  one  day  make  up  for  the  time  that  she  did  not  ):  not  because  he  needed  it  ,  but  to  never  have  ban  scream  for  her  in  endless  grief  again.  now  ,  she  was  real  and  he  was  real.  they  where  both  here  and  she  would  smite  any  enemy  who  dared  touch  him  and  likewise  he  to  anyone  about  her.

𝒊𝒗.  𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒐𝒖𝒕  𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅  :   being  together  was  a  reality.  they  had  many  talks  after  elaine  came  back  after  the  events  with  jericho.  they’d  talk  about  what  could  be  ,  about  what  can  be.  a  little  home  ,  surrounded  by  a  field  of  wildflowers  (  lavenders  and  daisy's  and  wormwood  and  wisterias  ):  maybe  a  tavern  ,  or  maybe  not  (  to  elaine  ,  that  seemed  more  like  elizabeth  and  meliodas  thing  ):  but  she  knew  that  she  desired  something  in  peace  ,  maybe  not  a  tavern  but  a  confectionary  would  be  up  their  ally.  the  two  would  go  on  and  on  as  elaine  would  rest  her  head  on  his  chest  and  hum  ,  imagining  a  future  she  once  never  thought  to  hope  for.  she  didn’t  dread  eternity  anymore  —  just  enough  moments  like  these  and  these  ,  she  wanted  to  last  for  centuries  and  centuries.

𝒗.  𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆  𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉  𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  :   after  everything  ,  just  being  near  him  —  wrapped  in  warmth  ,  no  longer  apart  —  was  a  miracle.  she  liked  to  rest  with  her  cheek  over  his  heartbeat  ,  letting  it  lull  her  into  sleep  ,  grounding  her  in  the  truth  that  they  had  found  each  other  again  (  that  neither  was  dead  nor  lost  ):  living  and  breathing  and  only  wanting  to  spend  life  with  one  another.  also  ,  with  as  much  as  these  two  smooch  in  canon  you  know  they  most  definitely  enjoy  sleeping  together.

˗ˏˋ   ⋆✴︎   @ragesin   sent   a   love  letter   to   the  kingdom   of   benwick   ˚｡⋆