He misses you too, Anon, and has for a while now. 🥹
Today is J. Corvin's birthday! 💚 In honor of it, you'll find character sketches of James below, though there are more pictures: here! This gorgeous collection of art is by Three. I love that there's a wistful longing to his gaze! I wonder what (or whom) he's thinking about?
Here's a scene for J-mancers from TFS: Book Two. Both are versions below!
James
. . .
A solid connection of something against metal disrupts the collective pause and wrenches free a measly squeak.
It takes everyone by surprise.
Instantly, you're moving before your mind can fully quantify James staggering only a fraction of a step, mere inches at best. You reach out before Reese, who was much closer, can. He shoots a knowing look your way that's tinged with unabashed respect. You rest your palm on James's upper back in what's hopefully a steadying motion despite how you're wrinkling his ironed shirt from alarm.
He doesn't shrug off your touch, leaning in as if recognizing who it belongs to before turning around. James clasps your hand mid-turn to prevent your frozen palm from inadvertently resting on his chest. You're a little intense after waiting for his late arrival tonight and from watching that video tape, your fingers catching in cotton instead of letting go as they normally would. He makes up for that by very delicately releasing yours.
*page_break
You locate what's wrong in seconds.
Peeking out behind James and Reese, there's a water fountain that's fit for a grand museum. It blends into the surroundings thanks to its ebony, wrought iron trim, no speck of dull plastic or loud chrome to pull people's focus. James must have caught his side—part of his hip—on where it juts out into the hall.
That will leave behind a bruise.
"Detective?"
"Didn't see it there," James mutters. He overlooks the range of attention he's receiving to adopt a kneel. He puts weight on the fountain's curve to test its mounted hinge. "It's okay."
"They can swallow their spit," you dismiss his diligence while mildly perturbed. He's way more important! "Do you think we're worried about a fountain?"
"Besides, they have many others," Reese adds. "Soda is 'all the rage'."
"Wait, why'd you say it like that?"
"I do not particularly care for fizz," Reese explains to Becca. "Champagne is an exception due to my preferred decanting method."
"Why do…?"
You completely tune out Becca and Reese's conversation about carbonated drinks, stepping around to where James is shining a light on the wall mount. From the corner of his eye, he must spy you, setting his jaw so a jawline you've often traced stands out further. Is he embarrassed? It was a hard smack; the fountain is encased in metal after all.
*page_break
"Are you okay?" you whisper.
"Yes, thank you."
His flashlight's illumination is mostly absorbed by the underside of the machine, throwing faint shadows over his expression that's reserved. When you lean in out of childhood habit, the same one that had you walking faster once there was a slim possibility he was hurt, James inhales. It's hushed to your ears, a tentative breath that will easily be stolen once he witnesses something beautiful, one of preparation. Despite the years in between, you recognize it from marveling at stars together in the tree house. He never tired of them.
Thinking back on what happened, didn't James's head turn before the collision…?
Where was he looking?
You soon find the answer in intense green eyes you should've known your whole life.
They're the same ones that regarded you gently after your first kiss that's a nostalgic memory compared to your new reality.
_ _ _
Jane
. . .
A solid connection of something against metal disrupts the collective pause and wrenches free a measly squeak.
It takes everyone by surprise.
Instantly, you're moving before your mind can fully quantify Jane staggering only a fraction of a step, mere inches at best. You reach out before Ruby, who was much closer, can. She shoots a knowing look your way that's tinged with unabashed respect. You rest your palm on Jane's upper back in what's hopefully a steadying motion despite how you're wrinkling her ironed shirt from alarm.
She doesn't shrug off your touch, leaning in as if recognizing who it belongs to before turning around. Jane clasps your hand mid-turn to prevent your frozen palm from inadvertently resting on her chest. You're a little intense after waiting for her late arrival tonight and from watching that video tape, your fingers catching in cotton instead of letting go as they normally would. She makes up for that by very delicately releasing yours.
*page_break
You locate what's wrong in seconds.
Peeking out behind Jane and Ruby, there's a water fountain that's fit for a grand museum. It blends into the surroundings thanks to its ebony, wrought iron trim, no speck of dull plastic or loud chrome to pull people's focus. Jane must have caught her side—part of her hip—on where it juts out into the hall.
That will leave behind a bruise.
"Detective?"
"Didn't see it there," Jane mutters. She overlooks the range of attention she's receiving to adopt a kneel. She puts weight on the fountain's curve to test its mounted hinge. "It's okay."
"They can swallow their spit," you dismiss her diligence while mildly perturbed. She's way more important! "Do you think we're worried about a fountain?"
"Besides, they have many others," Ruby adds. "Soda is 'all the rage'."
"Wait, why'd you say it like that?"
"I do not particularly care for fizz," Ruby explains to Beckett. "Champagne is an exception due to my preferred decanting method."
"Why do…?"
You completely tune out Beckett and Ruby's conversation about carbonated drinks, stepping around to where Jane is shining a light on the wall mount. From the corner of her eye, she must spy you, setting her jaw so a jawline you've often traced stands out further. Is she embarrassed? It was a hard smack; the fountain is encased in metal after all.
*page_break
"Are you okay?" you whisper.
"Yes, thank you."
Her flashlight's illumination is mostly absorbed by the underside of the machine, throwing faint shadows over her expression that's reserved. When you lean in out of childhood habit, the same one that had you walking faster once there was a slim possibility she was hurt, Jane inhales. It's hushed to your ears, a tentative breath that will easily be stolen once she witnesses something beautiful, one of preparation. Despite the years in between, you recognize it from marveling at stars together in the tree house. She never tired of them.
Thinking back on what happened, didn't Jane's head turn before the collision…?
Where was she looking?
You soon find the answer in intense green eyes you should've known your whole life.
They're the same ones that regarded you gently after your first kiss that's a nostalgic memory compared to your new reality.
—the fernweh saga (pre-canon timeline after mc left fernweh)
— olive beckham & jane corvin
a series of unsent letters sent by olive in her teenage years to her first love jane corvin
Dear Hi Jane,
I miss you so much. It physically hurt me to think about you when I feel so far away from your presence. Now that I'm far away from you I actually realize how much you brightened my days. It's stupid, I should be focusing on looking ahead not back to my childhood. I can't help it.
This lady at the social service told me to write my feelings to a piece of paper and maybe thinking about what I wanna say to your face instead of sending this to you is a better therapy. I don't even know what to say to them.
I'm supposed to start school next week and all I can think about is how I won't see you every morning in our meeting spot.
I just feel so stupid.
I miss you.
-Your Olive
Hey Jane,
This school is bigger than I imagined. They actually have a music club with a very good piano, like the one I kept talking to you about. Verner would be so jealous.
This one girl named Lizzie showed me around, she was friendly. She just looked too much like you, spoke all soft like you used to. I hate her. I know it's not fair.
I feel like everyone on the school knows who I am. The girl who's parents died and had to be shipped of to this place. I could feel their whispers down my back. I don't like it.
I hope you're having a better time than I am.
-Your Olive
~
Hi Jane,
Lizzie forced me to join the music club. I said yes. I don't know why I said that. I guess I'm not used to being alone as I say. The teacher was really nice and supportive. She asked me to play a song on the piano.
I started playing the song you liked the most. The one where I played all night that one time and you loved it. Called me the most talented girl you knew. I still can hear your voice sometimes. I wonder when I will forget it.
I hope I don't.
The teacher really liked the song by the way. She said that I could play in the school recital at the end of this year. I said I would think about performing.
What's the point of performing if there is no one in the audience that I know?
I hope you're doing well.
-Your Olive
~
Hi Jane,
I actually have friends now. Can you believe it? Of course none of them could ever compare to you but they are cool. Most of them are from the music club and they actually understand when I ramble about music theory.
It still hurts sometimes. I still have nightmares but I don't wake up crying my mom's name anymore. Is that bad? Does that mean I'm forgetting about it? I don't want to, I just want to forget about the pain. I miss everyone in Fernweh, hell even Verner sometimes.
I miss you.
I'm supposed to go hang out with them in an hour. I don't know if it's good for me to be writing to you like that.
Especially when you're never gonna read this.
- Your Olive
~
Hey,
This girl asked me out. She's cute, I think. One of Lizzie's friends that she introduced me to and she has the same interests as me.
I just kinda froze? I don't know how to like someone other than you. I only imagined I would go on dates with you, not her. It sounds pathetic because I could never really say how I really felt. There is still a 'jane' void next to my heart.
But I said yes to her. I don't know why. I needed to try to feel that spark again. We haven't gone out yet. I just wanted to tell you about it.
It feels stupid because you're not gonna read this. I wonder if you have someone in your life too. I don't blame it if you do. You are Jane Corvin, the kindest, the most beautiful person in this world.
God, I'm such a loser. I'm sorry.
I guess I should go get ready now.
I hope you are really happy.
-Your (??) Olive
~
Hey,
It's been 3 years since the last time I wrote to you. I don't know why I stopped. Hell, I don't even know why I'm writing to you right now. I wanted to say goodbye.
I'm graduating high school. I managed to get a scholarship in a college that is halfway across the state.
I'm happy about it because I finally feel free. I'm 18 now. I don't have to live in a home where I try to be a family with someone and fall short because my real family is dead. I didn't know I craved this kind of freedom but I think I do.
So much has changed in my life, I don't know where to start with the updates.
That girl I wrote to you about broke up with me 3 weeks after dating. I don't regret saying yes. She at least made me forget about stuff.
I'm still playing the piano. In fact I got a music scholarship. I know it's gonna be good for me. I'm gonna be living in a dorm with one other girl. I think her name is Becca? I hope she's nice at least.
I don't get that many nightmares anymore because I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. I'm tired of missing you so much that my body aches whenever I see your name around anywhere.
It hurts to think about you. I used to think about your face everytime I tried to sleep.
Now? I think I'm forgetting what you sound like.
So… this is a goodbye. I can't write to you anymore. I can't be stuck in the past like this.
Maybe one day, I'll write to you again. Maybe one day I'll see you again. If I do, I don't know if anything is gonna be the same.
I hope you're doing well. I hope you're not thinking of me.
I see that J. Corvin is very much a sufferer of the freudian slip. 🥰
They've already done it again in book two as well (but I can’t post a clip of that one).
I love Alex's dynamic with Jane and Reese in their JR route because it goes something like this:
"Jane is like my best friend 🥰 the most important woman in my life 💜 She's fragile and needs my support, I care about her so much 🥰🥰🥰🥰 (even if I left her behind and she never contacted me ever again because she must be so hurt by it oh my god I'm sorry it's my fault)."
All this while completely unaware they might even have a crush on her
VS
"Reese is my fuckass rival who I definitely still dont harbor a crush for. Hes always saying shit in the most convoluted way possible instead of just saying what he means (he has a crush on them and it's extremely obvious to everyone except Alex). Im gonna explode him with my mind"
ophelia and ruby constantly steal jane's clothes, they're just so comfy and they do miss her a lot when she's at work for long hours.
yes this is yet another fanart for my OT3, this time i'm on domestic JR poly brainrot so.... here we are. it's sketches cause i got too lazy and tired to do anything else to do it so... sorry? ANYWAYS LOOK AT THEM!!!!!
jane and ruby both belong to the wonderful @lacunafiction
Bonus under the cut:
Jane got home late and fell asleep next to them (not the most comfortable though miss-back-pains 🙄)
Just finished my third playthrough of Fernweh Saga Book 1 - now I’m crying over James’ route while listening to Carnival of Rust on repeat. That last verse specifically just...😭😭 (that letter scene where James remembers biking over to the cabin filled with excitement to send his letters to you, only to never receive a reply back??? Heartbreaking. Damn you grandpa, I love you, but you broke J’s heart and for what??? If it was the town post’s fault, then screw them too. 😭)
Anyways, can you tell that I’m starved for more Fernweh content?? The slow burn thriller and romance is such an immaculate combo. 🔥🔥
