#turnining the next page and GUESS WHAT

[jewishcissiekj]

Cassie in Donna's Tales pf the Titans issues is real I can smell it

[its--fandom--darling]

Famous Last Words ~ chapter 6

word count: 2,357; chapter rating: PG-13 warnings: slow burn, Sy and Bug on their date, kissing

A/N see this post XXX for a little moodboard for the chapter, neither of these gifs were made by me, credit goes to the creator. Diveders were also made by @firefly-graphics.

Since clearing the air with Sy, things have never been better. You have nightly talks with Sy, due to your busy schedule and personally you don’t think that Sunday can come soon enough. You were studying in your library spot when your phone rang. Looking down at the phone screen you smiled seeing your Captains face flash across the screen. Shutting your book, you pick up your phone to answer it, tucking it between your shoulder and ear.

“Hello, Captain,” you say, sweetly.

              “Hey, Bug, am I botherin’ ya? I know you need to study.”

You smile and chew on your pen cap, “I’m due for a study break and you never bother me.”

              He chuckles, “I don’t bother you, yet.”

You roll your eyes, “you’re so sure that I’m gonna get sick of you aren’t you?”

              Sy chuckles, “I’m just teasing ya.”

You smile, “I know, Sy.” You lean back in your chair with a smile. “So when are you gonna tell me where you’re taking me on our date?”

              Sy chuckles again, “I already I told ya, Bug. It’s a surprise.”

You pout slightly, “Alright, will you at least tell me what I should wear?”

              “Something that makes you feel pretty, Bug, but what I got in mind doesn’t require any fancy dress.”

“I’m so excited,” you whisper, tucking your pen behind your ear.

              “I am too, Bug,” he admits.

“So what are you doing tonight?”

              “I’m going to dinner with my sister. She wants me to meet the new guy she’s seeing. I’m not really looking forward to it, because if this guy isn’t good enough for my sister, I’m gonna have to kick his ass,” Sy murmurs with a small scoff.

“I can’t wait to meet, Willa, from what you’ve told me about her we’re going to get along swimmingly.”

              He chuckles, “The two of you are gonna get on like a wildfire and if I’m honest, that’s slightly intimidating but I guess as long as the two most important woman in my life are get along, I guess that is what’s important.”

You drop your pen and a slow smile spreads on your face. “I’m one of the most important women in your life?”

              He’s silent for a moment, “Yes, Bug, it is.”

“I’m honored, Sy,” you whisper, dragging your finger across the edge of your textbook as you bite the inside of your lip.

              “It doesn’t freak you out?”

“Why would it freak me out?”

              “We haven’t even been on a date yet and I just told you that you are one the most important women in my life.”

“So, you are the most important man in my life. Does that freak you out?”

              “No, it makes me really fuckin happy, Bug.”

You bite your lip as you listen to the smile in his voice. “I’m glad we are the same page.”

              “Me too.”

You glance at your watch and your smile drops, “Sy, I gotta go. I need to finish studying this chapter in the next 20 minutes so I can get to the dining hall before it closes.”

              He grunts and you hear shuffling on the other line as he stands up. “Alright, Bug, I should be heading out for my sister’s anyhow. I’ll talk to you later?”

You smile to yourself as you open your book back up, “Yes, call me when you’re home. I wanna hear all about your evening with your sister and her new beau.”

              He chuckles, “Alright, study hard, Bug, talk to you later.”

“Bye, Sy,” you say, softly.

              “Bye, Bug,” he murmurs, before the line goes dead.

 Sunday had finally rolled around and thanks to a gracious co-worker, you’d be able to switch to the morning shift at your job so that you’d have plenty of time to get ready for your date with Sy.

You were currently in a frenzy as you searched through your closet in search of the perfect something. Your roommate was currently, lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

              “He really gave you no insinuation of where y’all were going tonight?” she asks, looking up from her phone and crossing her arms.

“No! He just said to wear something that made me feel beautiful,” you say, turning to face her and chewing on your fingernail.

              She’s looking at you, eyes soft. “that is so sweet, (y/n)”

You smile to yourself, “I know.”

              “Guess the real question is, what do you feel the most beautiful in?”

You bite your lip and turn back to your closet and riffle around for a moment before pulling out a sundress with puffy sleeves and slit running up the side. “This dress, but I’ve never really felt like I’ve had a place to wear it.”

              Your roommate smiles, “What’s a better reason than a first date with Captain Beefcake.”

You snort at her wiggling eyebrows and turn to look at the dress in the mirror. “Do you think my heeled mules would be cute with this because they are so comfy that I could do just about anything in them.”

              Katie nods, “Yes! You’re gonna look so good that he’s not gonna know what to do with himself.”

You wave her off and hold the dress up to yourself, smiling. “will you do my makeup?”

              “Of course!”

Over the course of the next few hours, you finish getting ready with the help of Katie and by the quarter of 6, you are completely ready, and the butterflies had started to set in. You checked your purse one last time as your phone buzzed.

“He’s here,” you murmur, nervously

              Katie smiles at you, “It’s gonna be amazing and you can text me, if you need anything call me and I’ll come get you alright?”

You nod, “I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thank you.”

              She smiles, “Neither do you. Now go have fun.”

You smile and hug her tightly, before grabbing your jean jacket and pulling your purse over your shoulder. You head out the door, catch the elevator and walk out the front door to find Sy once again, leaning against his truck with a box of chocolates in his hand.

              His face breaks out in a wide grin as he pushes off his truck and closes the gap between the two of you.

“Hi,” you murmur, smiling up at him.

              “Hi, Bug,” he says, softly. He rakes his gaze up your form, “you look,” he pauses and swipes his hand over his cropped head, “stunning.”

“Thank you, you clean up pretty well yourself,” you murmur, gesturing to his jeans and his olive green polo shirt that stretches snugly over his torso.

              “I brought you some chocolates,” he murmurs, extending his hand to you.

You take the small gold wrapped box from him. “Thank you, Sy. Shall we go? I’m excited to see what you have in store for me.”

              Sy smiles, “Of course, come on.” He places a gentle hand on your back and guides you towards his pickup, opening the door for you and helping you inside. Once you’re in, he closes the door and moves around the back of the pickup, glancing into the bed to adjust something before he heads to the driver side and climbs in. The drive is quiet, save for the radio and your occasional accompaniment of the songs. Soon enough you’re pulling onto a dirt road that narrows the further you go. Your heart start to for a moment before a small ticket booth comes into sight and you realize that Sy is taking you to the drive-in.

“I’ve always wanted to come here,” you murmur, as Sy joins the small queue of cars that are also getting tickets.

              He looks at you smiling. “This was one of my favorite places as a kid, we’d come here when my uncle James was home. He’d take me and Willa so my mom could have the night to herself once in a while. We’d get buckets of popcorn and put m&m’s in it, split the biggest soda we could buy. It was always the best night. I always make time to see a show when I’m stateside and I thought it’d be the perfect thing to share with you, Bug,” he explains, eyes soft with nostalgia.

You reach out and take his hand, “Thank you for sharing that with me, for sharing this experience with me.”

              He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, “I hope to share a lot more of things with you.”

You smile and as you open your mouth to answer, the car behind you honks and Sy snaps his gaze up to the rearview and then the empty space in front of him and flushes in embarrassment before pulling to the window and purchasing the tickets. He drives you into the field, where the ginormous screen towers above the cars. He pulls around and backs into the spot, then smiles at your confused face. “I’ve got one more surprise up my sleeve, Bug,” he murmurs, getting out to come around and help you out. As soon as your feet hit the ground, his hand is in yours and he’s leading you around to the back of the pickup.

Your jaw drops when you see the bed of truck, filled with blankets and pillows and a picnic basket that is tucked to side. “Sy this is amazing!” you gasp, turning to face him with a giant grin. “I love it.”

              He smiles, “Really?”

“Really, it’s more perfect that I could’ve ever dreamed,” you murmur, slipping into his arms and squeezing him in a hug.

              Sy’s thick arms surround you and he rests his cheek on your head. “I’m really glad that you like it so much, I had the truck detailed and everything, just so it wouldn’t get your pretty clothes dirty tonight.

You pull back enough to look at him and grin, “You are prince charming in a pair of wrangler jeans, aren’t you?”

              He laughs heartily and your smile grows as you lean in to press a kiss to his scruffy cheek.

“It’s true, now will you help me up?” you ask, turning back to the truck. You feel his hands grip your waist and you suppress a shiver at the warmth that seeps out of them.

              “Ready?”

“Yes,” you reply and then you’re being lifted and set gently on the tailgate of his truck.

              “There ya go,” he murmurs as you slip your shoes off, tucking them to the side before adjusting your dress and shuffling into the nest of blankets and pillows. Sy follows suit and gets himself into the truck, tucking himself into the corner, near the picnic basket.

“What’s playing tonight?” you ask, tucking your legs under you as you watch Sy open the picnic basket and pull a bottle of wine out and a box that looked suspiciously like pizza.

              “Tonight’s showing is The Princess Bride,” he says, pouring you a glass of wine.

“Thank you, is that pizza I spy?”

              He grins, “Yes, it is, but it’s homemade and made in my brick pizza oven.”

“You have a pizza oven?” you ask, incredulously making him chuckle.

              “Yeah, it was something that,” he pauses to clear his throat, “Mallory wanted, but I’ve really grown to love it.”

You smile, “Well, that’s all that matters. Now, bring that over here, I’m starving.”

              The two of you dig into the pizza as the opening commercials begin to play and you find yourself leaning into Sy as the evening progresses. Soon enough the pizza is gone and so is the wine, Sy had produced popcorn with m&m’s and the two of you had been munching on it together. Sy’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you were enjoying his warmth and spicy scent of his cologne. You feel warm and relaxed from the wine as you snuggle closer to him and press your nose into his neck.

“You smell so good,” you whisper, pulling back to look at him.

              He smiles, “Yeah?”

You nod and he takes you in, his blue eyes drinking your form as he closes the gap between the two of you and kisses your lips softly. You press in closer, letting him lead you as the kiss deepens and he slips his tongue into your mouth. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek as you bring a hand up to rest on his sternum. The kiss is languid, unhurried and yet lacks no passion. When you part, you both catch your breath as you regard each other, grins slowly smiling on your face.

“That’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.”

              He cups your cheek once more and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone, “Best kiss for my best girl.”

You roll your eyes, “you’re such a cheeseball.”

              He grins and laughs as he pulls you in close to him again and covers the two of you with a a blanket. As the movie winds down, you share a few more kisses, each one better than the last as you let Sy steal your heart completely. As the credits roll, you can’t help but yawn.

              “Ready for me to take ya home?” he asks, rubbing your arm.

“Wanna stay with you,” you murmur, sleepily.

              “You sure? I’ll drive you to your dorm and kiss you goodnight, just as happily.”

You murmur, “Wanna stay with you.”

              “Alright, let’s go home then.” Sy packs up the picnic and then the two of you shuffle out of the bed of the truck. Sy helps you slip your shoes back on and you smile at him.

“See, Prince Charming.”

              He rolls his eyes and helps you down. He walks you back to your side of the truck, opens the door for you and helps you in, before getting in himself. As he starts the pickup, you slide across the bench seat and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, I had a really good time,” you whisper.

              Sy smiles to himself and wraps an around your shoulder before pressing a kiss to your head. “So did I, Bug.”

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[jimlingss]

Foreverland

➜ Words: 15.2k

➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Peter Pan!AU

➜ Summary: Just because you're nineteen doesn't mean you aren't still a CHILD! So why does everyone want you to grow up so badly?! Is it so wrong to not want to work? To get married?! And for heaven's sake, you'll wed anyone but boring Namjoon! Little do you know, a certain fairy boy's about to grant your wish and whisk you far away from this nightmare.

cr.

You flip the page of the storybook.   It sits on your lap, the two covers spread over your thighs, the page corners crisp against your fingertips. The colours seem to jump out at you — raspberry, periwinkle and kelly vibrant against the white. And you’re completely enthralled with the adventurous storyline, studying the sentences before your eyes follow the illustration of the garden gnome climbing the mountain.   “Y/N!”    A sharp shriek interrupts your concentration and you look to the house porch. Your mother has her hands on her hips, apron tied around her waist and ladle in hand. “Heavens to Betsy! What did I say about climbing trees again! Are you tryin’ to break your neck?! Get down here this instant, young lady!”   You sigh, jumping down from the thick branch much to her horror. But your landings are always perfect. This spot’s perfect. You don’t know why she has such a bone to pick with your favourite reading place.   Not only was the tree branch comfortable, but you got the biggest and brightest view of the grassy field and can feel the wind whisking through your hair. Not like she’d understand.   She never liked heights.   “Look at yourself,” your mother chastises and starts to brush off the skirt of your dress. “You got so dirty. You can’t be looking like this when Namjoon’s coming by.”   “Again?” Your exaggerated exhale gains the lift of her brow. But you can’t help it. It’s not like your walks with Namjoon are something you enjoy. “I don’t like him, mom. You know that.”   “Then who do you like?”   You recoil. “No one.”   “You’re not a child anymore, Y/N. You’re already nineteen and you’re turnin’ twenty soon. And what happened to your friends? Sarah’s already gotten married and so did Irene.”   “That’s because they had no dreams,” you tell her. “They’ve always wanted a boring life.”   “Well, it’s time for you to grow up,” she huffs, holding you by the shoulders and looking at you one last time. “If you don’t want to get married, then move out and get a job.”   Heck no. You don’t want any of that.    The last thing you want is to be like Sarah or Irene who only knows how to gossip over tea and plan how many babies they’re gonna have. Or be like your parents. Your father’s a war veteran and always working long hours while your mother’s a homemaker — she’s so bored in the neighbourhood that she frets over every detail about you and drives herself nuts.   You don’t know when it became like this but all the adults are so utterly boring.   It seems like everyone’s grown up to live a monotonous life in the suburbs and you refuse to follow.   “Y/N?”    Your train of thought comes to a crashing halt by a tall dark-haired gentleman with rounded glasses. Namjoon’s always been polite and well-mannered but his talking can get you fast asleep. “Are you okay?”   “I’m fine. Thanks.” You muster a smile, looking away from the kids crowding around the trees and climbing them, giggling, hooting and hollering at each other.   As Namjoon walks past them, he shakes his head in disapproval. “They’re so noisy.”   “When was the last time you climbed a tree?” you suddenly ask.   “I never really did. I always preferred to build train sets and reading.”   Immediately, your eyes light up. “Reading?”   “Encyclopedias.”   Your eyes dim just as quick. “Oh.”   //   The pastel mint that’s engulfed the dining room — walls, chairs, tablecloth — is washed out, especially with the dim yellow ceiling lamp hanging over the rectangular table. But you don’t comment when the pastel pink kitchen looks much worse. Your parents’ decorating choices have always been questionable to you.   “I heard Namjoon came by,” your father says at dinner. “How was it?”   “Same as always.”    It goes silent. The air is awkward and your mother clears her throat noisily. The mashed potatoes taste bland on your palette.   “You know, he came by the other day to have a chat with me. It seems like he’s quite serious.”   You have an inkling of what your father’s trying to get at and you put your fork down, allowing it to clank against your dinner plate. “Namjoon’s terribly dull.”   “He’s a respectable businessman,” your father asserts.    Your mother agrees and chimes, “Namjoon isn’t boorish.”   “He has no life in him,” you retort back. “Watching paint dry is more fun.”   Your father’s brow jumps and he raises his voice, “He will be a fantastic family man.”   “He has a great background, dear,” your mother offers in a softer tone.   You abruptly stand, chair legs squeaking against the linoleum, not wanting to hear anymore of their reasons. No matter what you say, they have hundreds of defenses. No one’s actually listening to you. They don’t understand!   “I won’t marry him, never ever. I won’t get a job either! I hated working as a secretary!”   “Sit down, Y/N,” your father deadpans, looking back at his dinner plate as if you’re just a dog barking. You don’t faze him whatsoever. “You’re not a child who can throw a temper tantrum anymore.”   “I am a child!”   “You’re nineteen,” he reprimands. “It’s time to grow. up.”   “Ugh!” You whirl around and stomp up the stairs, abandoning your dinner on the table. Your mom calls after you, demanding to know where you’re going, but you get to your room, slam the door shut and lock it.   You dive into your bed, face flat into your pillow.   A moment later, you hear a knock but when you don’t respond, the steps fade away.   It’s always like this. You don’t know why so many kids want to grow up quickly to be adults when there’s nothing fun about it whatsoever. You don’t want to marry Namjoon. You don’t want to be a housewife for the rest of your life. You don’t want to work for someone else either.   You just want to be free — is that so much to ask?   All you want is to read, to go on an adventure, to escape to somewhere else, be someone else.   You move your face to the side and out of the pillow to finally breathe and your eyes incidentally stray out your windows. It’s a starry night tonight, pinpricks of milky light glittering over the dark horizon. You find yourself standing up and walking over to open the latch. Immediately, fresh air whisks inside your suffocating room and you inhale a deep breath.   You lean on the window sill with your arms, pupils flickering up to the bright North Star in the sky.   It’s silly and naive, but with how dismayed you are, you shut your eyes and wish upon that glimmering star. You wish that someone could take you away from here. Far, far away. To a place where there won’t be any expectations for you. A place where you won’t have to work. Where you won’t have to marry Namjoon.   A place where your dreams could be granted.   But not for a second do you expect for your wish to actually come true.   You become sleepy while resting at the sill, lids heavy as you begin to drift off. But then, there’s a tickle at your nose and a light tap of your shoulder.    “Mama….stop it,” you groan, “I’ll talk to you later…”   Yet, there’s a harder tap and a deeper voice— “Hello?”   Your eyes shoot open at the unfamiliar timbre and your eyes narrow in on a man-boy floating in front of you. Dark hair. Twinkling irises. A mischievous smile. You stumble back on your butt and scream.   No one hears you, not your parents who are heavy sleepers or the noisy neighbours who somehow have taken a day off from snooping around. So, you’re left alone to face the stranger who’s seemingly not standing on anything. He’s just outside your bedroom window, floating mid-air.   “W-Who are you?!”   You have to blink thrice to make sure you’re really seeing turquoise fairy-like wings.   “Name’s Seokjin.” A sparkly red vest with golden trousers and a blue hat with a green feather on the side — he looks like he’s come straight out of one of your storybooks. “But you can call me Jin.”   “What are you doing here?” your words stutter out.   “I heard a wish being made and came to grant it.”   Jin floats down and steps onto your window ledge, peering curiously inside your room.    “It’s quite pink,” he notes and the corners of his mouth upturn into a perfectly rounded smile. “I’m guessing that’s your favourite colour.”   Without warning, the stranger comes in. An uninvited guest who’s all too meddlesome with the trinkets on top of your dresser. Your eyes bulge, brought speechless in the meanwhile. You wouldn’t know how to explain if your parents were to come in and see this stranger walking around your room.   You don’t even know if he’s a man or a boy in the first place. It’s almost like he’s both — one second, he looks young and the next, he looks to be around your age. But one thing’s certain. He’s tall, height overcoming yours, and he has light blue translucent wings on his back.   “What are you?”   The question stumbles out without much thought and you realize a little too late once it’s said.   He whirls around with a frown and lolls his head to the side. “I’m a human.”   “How does a human have wings?!”   He laughs, a bubbling sound emitting from his mouth, and he looks behind him. “Oh this? It’s magic. I guess that kind of makes me a fairy.”   You wonder if by fairy, it’s the fairies in the books you’ve read and you wonder what exactly he means by magic. More importantly, you wonder if this is all a dream in the first place.   Jin holds out his hand, palm lifted upwards and after a beat of hesitation, you take it. He helps you stand up on your feet again and smiles. “What’s your name?”   “It’s Y/N.”   “That’s a nice name. Okay, let’s go.”   “Excuse me?” You blink hard, questioning if he’s even from this world. “Go where?”   “Foreverland, silly.” Jin smiles, plump lips pulled, cheeks puffed out like loaves of bread, brown irises twinkling. “Don’t you want to escape from here? Go on an adventure? Come on!”   He takes your hand, leading you to the window, but your steps are slow. “Where’s Foreverland?”   “Boy, you ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” He looks back at you with a boyish grin. “Just come see for yourself.”   You wonder if this is a dream. If it is, then there’s no point in staying in your room.   So you simply nod and his smile widens.   Jin gets onto the window ledge and pulls you up with him. But before he can go any further, you blurt out, “Wait!” And he promptly halts, looking at you to see if there’s anything wrong. “D-Do I need to bring anything with me?”   He laughs at your question.    “No.”   Then, before you can even blink, Jin jumps. With your hands held, you fall out the window after him and scream at the top of your lungs. Yet, there’s no fall in the pit of your stomach. There isn’t a rush, the wind tearing through your hair, or the impending splat on the ground.   You peel open your eyes to discover Jin carrying you. An arm around your back and the other behind your knees. Immediately, you loop your arms around his neck and find your house becoming smaller and smaller as he flies away.   “Did you really think I was just going to let you fall?” the strange boy asks with a cheeky smile.   “You should’ve warned me,” you murmur, not putting up much of a fight or complaining when you were too busy looking at the view. You were flying over the entire city, watching the way the lights of the buildings glimmer into a mosaic of colours, your house now a mere dot in the distance.    It’s a breathtaking sight, reminding you of stars in the distance. Except they were the buildings you entered on afternoon shopping trips with your mother or streets you biked through. You could see the diner and the record shop and even the drive-in theater!   Jin smiles as he looks at you. “If you’re impressed now, wait till we get to Foreverland.”   You turn your attention to him, eyes running from his lashes to the slope of his nose and the dip of his cupid’s bow. The breeze makes your cheeks warm and you take the opportunity to pinch yourself on the arm.   It hurts, which only means one thing. This isn’t a dream.   “How are you doing this?!”   “I said it before!” he exclaims in a pitched voice. “Magic!”   It can’t be real. But at the exact same time, it is.   And with that realization, you start hollering at the top of your lungs, momentarily startling the boy carrying you. “I can’t believe this is happening! This is amazing!”    Jin grins. “I know!”   You cheer as if you’re on top of the highest mountain, as if you’re facing the endless ocean and screaming your name, as if the entire world could hear the howls coming from the pit of your stomach. Exhilaration bleeds through your veins and you laugh aloud, finally feeling alive.   Instead of feeling fearful, cautious, or burdened with an apprehension you know anyone in your position would have, you’re elated. For the first time, you were finally going on an adventure.   The two of you fly a bit more, soaring beyond the wispy clouds and blue oceans, until the golden sun starts to rise over the horizon. As soothing as it is, to where you could fall asleep, you make sure to keep your eyes open to catch it all. And soon enough, Jin’s swooping downwards towards an oblong-shaped island in the middle of nowhere.   “Welcome to Foreverland.”   A sandy beach, an open field, a forest nearby. Jin lands and sets you down onto your feet. The grass is pliant beneath your toes and you look around with your lips parted.   “What is this place?”   “Anything you want it to be,” he says. “Foreverland grants magic, so anyone can escape to it. Here, you can make your dreams come true. Anything in your imagination can be real.”    If what he’s telling you is true, then the possibilities are limitless. But you don’t know what to do, where to start.   “Where do you live?”   “In that treehouse.” Jin points a few paces away to where the forest and the meadow meet. You see an enormous tree that looks centuries old with winding branches that act as a staircase and a tiny fort fit at the top. Cute windows, warm lighting spilling from inside and a string of bulbs wrapped around the green foliage make up his cozy home and you’re put in awe.   “There’s magic all around us,” Jin says with a small smile after watching your reaction. “You can do whatever you want. Try it.”   “How?”   “Just imagine whatever you want!”   It sounds too easy, but even though you’re not quite sure what you want to do, you shut your eyes anyway. Somehow, your mind strays to how you always wanted to be a princess when you were younger and then to the castle dollhouse your aunt got you for your sixth birthday.    Lilac walls, three towers, trim wrapped in pink, a brown gate, teal roof, the ribbon flag.   And then you open your eyes again.   A gasp befalls your lips. The castle you used to play with as a child is built right in front of you, manifested from thin air right to the last detail from your memory. The flourishing bed of flowers and winding cobblestone path welcomes you inside as the castle’s majestic ruler.   “Looks like you have a natural talent for this,” Jin laughs with an enormous grin.   “This is incredible!” You don’t know what you want to do first. If you want to run inside the castle and look into all the rooms, if you want to fall back on the meadow floor and imagine pools of chocolate, or if you want to feel that buzz of magic again, those vibrations in the air that still tingle on your skin. “Why aren’t there more people here?”   “There’s a lot of visitors, but no one stays for long,” Jin says, his expression unrecognizable in the split-second that it changes. He smiles again before you can decipher it. “But you can stay here for as long as you’d like.”   You decide that you want to go inside the castle first.   You run around the halls, up and down the stairs, flinging bedroom doors open and sprinting across the massive ballroom with the hanging chandelier. There are three levels in total, ten rooms, a dining hall and the top of the highest tower gives you the best view of the forest and the mountains in the back.   Jin follows you in the meanwhile, infected by your excitement and answering the numerous questions you have. He seems happy to share Foreverland with you, and your mind’s already racing with countless ideas of what to do, build and create. Or at least until your stomach grumbles.   “Hungry?”   You sheepishly smile. “I guess.”   Jin grins as if it’s a problem easily solvable, but you’re not sure what he has in mind when he leads you through the thicket of the forest. It’s an uphill climb, the lush canopies letting through the rays of sparkling morning light while the chickadees and blue jays chirp, wings fluttering overhead.   The tree trunks eventually open up to a cleared riverside with enormous rocks scattered around.   But what takes your attention is the long, white table and rounded chairs all around. There’s cake stands filled with buttered pastries, frosted cakes, teacups and teapots discarded and a radio on top of a rock.   “What is this?”   “It’s where we have our tea parties,” Jin informs with a smile as he pulls out a chair for you and you plop down with a fork materializing in your hand.   Instantaneously, magic thumps the air and the teapots start to dance. Fuzzy folk music plays from the static radio. And the appliances start to swirl to the cheery rhythm, tilting back and forth as teacups start to levitate in front of you. It’s like something straight out of a book and you laugh as you watch them.   The teapot pours a cupful until it spills over and you quickly take it.   “Thank you very much.”   It’s the best earl grey tea you’ve ever had and your eyes widen before you’re sipping it again. If possible, the teapot seems to blush and pours you another cup.   “Have some cake,” Jin suggests, sitting on the other side and watching you with a grin. The fork flies out of your hand to cut into the slice and the silver utensil feeds you itself. The sweetness explodes on your tongue.   “This is amazing, Jin!” You’ve never been allowed to eat so many sweets, not when your mother was constantly nagging and telling you to watch your weight. But there’s no one here to tell you otherwise, so you fill your stomach until it aches. The plates and utensils also settle down after they accidentally dribble frosting on Jin’s hair, much to the boy’s dismay.   The tea party concludes after you’ve had your full and you bid them goodbye.   “Did you like it?” The both of you are strolling back into the forest, Jin matching your steps.   “Did I ever!” You laugh. “It was spectacular. Foreverland is spectacular!”   “I’m glad.” He smiles to himself at the same time your eyes stray over to a majestic tree sitting in the middle of the magical forest. Large trunk, enormous branches, your steps speed towards it.   Jin’s brow raises but he follows after you, watching you hoist yourself up on the first branch.   “You gotta be able to see all of Foreverland up here.”   The boy’s amused and his wings start fluttering. “I could always fly you up if you want.”   “That’s cheating,” you argue, grappling with another before pulling yourself up. “My dad’s always told me that the effort makes the result sweeter. Plus, there’s nothing quite like climbing trees. You should try it.”   Jin observes the way you’re already sweating and out of breath, and opts not to. “I’ll stick to flying.”   “Suit yourself.” You dust your hands before jumping to grab another branch.    You can tell Jin’s impressed at how you’re maneuvered yourself but it’s all thanks to your childhood in the countryside. This is nothing. And in just a few minutes, you’ve made it to the top of the ginormous tree, overlooking the entirety of Foreverland. Jin’s wings stop flitting as he sits down on the branch beside you and you both soak in the scenery.   The wind tears through your hair and you’re left breathless, gazing upon the painting-like island. You can spot his treehouse from afar, the castle you’ve built, and the beaches near where you first landed. The greenery and blue horizon seems to stretch on for miles, and it’s all laid out in front of you for your eyes only.    You don’t notice how Seokjin’s turned his head to look at you.   “This is so unbelievable,” you exhale.   None of you see the green leaf beside you that withers away.   “I’m glad you love it so much.” Jin smiles. “You can stay for as long as you’d like.”   The sun is hanging high in the sky, signaling it’s already afternoon and you realize that in your excitement, you haven’t had a wink of sleep. Up here, it’s quickly catching up to you. You’re too comfortable against the tree trunk, unable to stifle your yawns, and your lids become heavier.    The second time Jin glances at you, he finds your head bobbing and he smiles.   He carries you back to your castle, through the window into one of the rooms and he places you on the soft bed. In your deep slumber, you hear a soft voice— “Sleep tight, princess.” — and for some reason, you rest easy.   //   In your dreams, there’s a man-boy with wings wearing a ridiculous outfit, red vest and golden trousers with a blue hat and a feather on it. But somehow, he seems to sparkle and so does the place he takes you to. Magic thrums the air, vibrating on your skin and anything you wish for can be real. It’s a fantasy world straight out of the many storybooks you’ve held tightly onto….   In your dreams, you want to stay forev—   FWOOP.   There’s a deafening noise in your ear. A violent rush of wind smacking your face. You open your eyes with a shriek already tearing from your raw throat.   Onyx eyes sit high on the creature’s narrow skull and they stare into yours, mere inches away. There are horns on top of its head, body crimson and scaly with a row of larger scales running down its spine. Its black talons are sharp, gripping against the edges of the shattered shingles.   Dragon.   It’s a colossal dragon. And it’s ripped off the roof of your castle.   The creature’s shadow looms over you and every exhale from its nostrils whisks your hair back.   This isn’t a dream. It isn’t. “Jin!”    You scream at the top of your lungs, scurrying back in a cold sweat, blood curdling at the back of your throat. “Jin! Jin!” There’s only one person who can rescue you— “Seokjin!”   The dragon leans down and it nabs the hem of your white nightgown with its pointed teeth. You’re immediately lifted into the air with another screech violently ripping through your vocal cords. The dragon’s wings flap aggressively and you’re practically dangling diagonally in mid-air.   Oh shit. Shit!   In the midst of your panic, you scramble for a way to save yourself and then you remember. This is Foreverland. Anything you want can become a reality. You can grant any wish you desire.   So with that in mind, you quickly think of a witch’s broomstick. Something you can easily fly away on. And just like that, it manifests itself beside you, parking next to your dangling body.   A smile stretches into your features and your arm lifts to—   The dragon bats it away. As swiftly as it appears, the broom is being flung downwards.    The creature increases its speed, beginning to circle the island and you resort back to screaming— “Jin!”    You’re shivering as the dragon soars through wispy clouds, heading towards the mountains past the forest. When the creature starts to sweep downwards, your shrieks only increase in volume and pitch.   Then, the dragon drops you.   You’re flailing for ten seconds, mind-blank, the pit of your stomach falling up into your throat, your screams becoming soundless. But before you slam into the ground, your body is plunged into light green.   It absorbs your speed. Cushions your landing.   And you open your eyes to figure out that you’ve been dropped into a humongous plate of jelly. Unable to breathe, you start eating your way out towards the light. Your hands shove backwards as if you’re digging yourself out of dirt and your mouth chomps down until you’ve broken free.    Gasping, you pull the rest of your limbs out of the green jelly and stumble to the ground.   The taste of green grapes linger on your tongue.   But more importantly, your attention is stolen by a figure standing on top of a gray rock. Ruby cape, golden crown lopsided on a black head of hair. The stranger suddenly turns around and you’re faced with a rabbit-like boy — doe eyes, a big nose, pouty lips.   “Welcome to Jelly Mountain.” His voice is smooth and he hops down to hover over you. “You’re my new hostage.”   Suddenly, there’s rope bounding your entire body.   You’re utterly confused and you realize you’re quivering uncontrollably. “W-Where’s Jin?”   The corner of the stranger’s mouth tugs.    “Seokjin?” He barks out into deep, sinister laughter. “Dead, of course.”   Blood drains from your face.   The turmoil slams into your frame. You burst out into tears.    The stranger goes completely silent, eyes widened as he watches sobs choke out of your chest and he flinches back. “Wait. A-Are you okay? Is everything alright?”   Dead. Jin’s dead. Devastation wrecks you entirely and you lose strength fighting, flopping over to weep into the ground. Just like that. He’s. Dead.   Your captor cautiously approaches you while you blink past your hazy vision, teardrops hanging off your lashes. And once he gets close enough, you lift your foot to kick him in the knee. Hard enough that you can hear a crack in his joint.   “Oof!”   The boy doubles over and you get to your knees, rage replacing grief. “Why would you kill Jin?!”   “Who killed me?” A familiar voice sounds overhead and you knock your head back to see a dignified silhouette standing at a higher cliff. Jin flies down in front of you and points a wooden sword at the king.   But the boy wheezes and lifts his palms up. “I give, I give.”   The ropes around you instantaneously vanish and the second it does, you rush upwards, launching yourself at Jin. Your arms open and your bodies collide against each other. He’s surprised and stumbles back before he smiles modestly. Jin pats your back as you mumble into his shoulder, “Oh god, a dragon took me from my bed and I thought you were dead for real and I was so scared.”   The wind ceases for a moment, the sky losing its blue vibrancy for a sheer second.   A soft laugh emits from Jin’s lips and after you let go and he whirls around to the other boy. “Look at what you did, Jungkook.”   Jungkook scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I was just kidding, I didn’t know you would take me so seriously. This is how we usually play.” He melts into a timid sort of smile and approaches you again to properly introduce himself. “I’m Jin’s imaginary friend.”   Before you can think too much, Jungkook eagerly shakes your hand. “I was really excited when I heard there was someone new in Foreverland.”   “Well, it’s nice to meet you too. But it’s very rude to take your dragon and steal me out of bed,” you huff out, almost sounding like your mother. At the same time, said dragon pops up from behind a rocky boulder with sad eyes and a whimpering noise.   You recoil and dart to hide behind Jin. But he laughs and steps aside. “It’s alright. Everyone’s friendly here.”   The dragon is clumsy as it tottles towards you and it bends over to dip its head down. You hesitate, but with Jin’s encouragement and his reassuring nod, your hand lifts and you pet its mound. You’re shocked to find the scaly texture softer than expected, though your caresses are cut short when it nudges you with a puff from its nose. The dragon’s tail is wagging.   You step away after a held breath, turning to glare at Jungkook and he ducks his head.   Jin laughs and takes your hand before another argument or fight can take place. “Are you hungry? Let’s go have some cake and tea.”   You allow him to lead the way and Jungkook strolls along with his arms folded comfortably behind his head. “I want earl grey!”   You’re not sure how imaginary friends work in Foreverland. But you don’t know how Jungkook is so life-like. If you were told he was someone like you and Jin, then you would believe it.   Jungkook readily drinks up all the tea until the teapots are tired of pouring. “Ugh, scones?!” He tosses the scones over his shoulder and indulges in cake just as much as Jin does.   There are still so many things about the power of Foreverland you have yet to learn.   “What do you want to do now?” Jin asks as the four of you tread through the meadow. It was a new day and a day full of endless possibilities.   You hum, considering it for a moment. “Have you ever read Jack and the Beanstalk?”   “What?”   A seed materializes in your hand and you lean down to plant it into the soft dirt. Both Jin and Jungkook have inquisitive expressions, but you simply step back and let magic do its work. It takes an anticipated second of bated breath held in throats. Then, there’s a splitting noise.   The ground shakes beneath your feet and a thick, green stalk blasts from the ground. It sprouts, twining and twirling upwards, growing past your eyes and the cotton clouds.   You turn around to Jin with a cheeky grin. “What are you waiting for?”   You start to climb the soft vines of the huge beanstalk, hoisting yourself upwards while Jin’s wings begin to flutter and he takes flight beside you. Jungkook, in the meanwhile, stays rooted to the ground and you look down at him, asking if he’s coming along.   “I’m fine,” he declines politely. “I’m not one for heights.”   “Alright.”   You continue onwards while Jungkook waves with the dragon beside him. Seokjin, on the other hand, is eager to see what’s awaiting him at the top.    “What is this?”   “It’s the beanstalk from Jack in the Beanstalk. You know, the story about the boy who traded in his cow for magical beans and it grew the next morning.” When Jin’s expression remains blank, you elaborate, “He fought the giant, took the goose that laid golden eggs and became rich. Have you never heard of it?!”   Jin merely shakes his head and you’re absolutely appalled.   “It’s a fairly famous fairy tale.”   “I was never allowed to read much of them,” he says passingly and notices how you’re starting to break into a sweat. “I can fly you up.”   “No.” As tiring as it is— “I love climbing.”   Within minutes, your fingertips can grasp the white clouds and your castle’s diminished into a mere smudge. You heave your body upwards with one last surge and collapse onto the clouds.    Foreverland has become the size of your thumb, surrounded in the abyss blue ocean. But you don’t look down for long when there’s so much to see around you. It’s just how you envisioned — a kingdom above the clouds, mist thin at the horizon, pastel blue overhead.    Jin lands on the plush surface and seems to be even more amazed than you are. He stares at the cotton clouds that stretch beyond the sky and after a beat, starts to jump. He bends his knees, springs upwards and bounces off the clouds.   “Look!” He laughs and you giggle, mimicking him. It’s soft beneath your feet, dipping when you land and pushing back as you hop from place to place. You twirl around when you capture air time while Jin seems to be having the time of his life, jumping as high as possible.   “This is so much fun!”   “What did I tell you?”   For once, you’re glad you can finally be the one to show him something new.   “I can jump higher than you can!”   “Not for long!”   But the bouncing session is cut short when you leap towards him and he drifts to the side in mid-air. Your heads bump into one another, skulls knocking — and you both fall back with groans and sharp inhales.   “Ouch!” — “Ugh!”   You pout, rubbing at your pulsating forehead while Jin’s cowered over and scratching his crown.    “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”   “It’s not my fault,” you retort. “I’m not the one with wings.”   He snorts and to get back at him for the injury already fading away, you collect an armful of the clouds. They remind you of the soap bubbles in a bubble bath, foamy and fluffy, and you fling it at Jin. The majority hits his face and some floats down on top of his head.    You burst out laughing at his wincing expression and how the clouds have clung to his hair and the area around his mouth like he has a beard. “You look like Santa Claus!”    “Oh, you’re gonna get it now.” He wipes his eyes and you giggle, staggering back to your feet to run. Jin regains his own footing and starts chasing you with an even bigger armful. “Get back here, coward!”   “Hey! No flying! That’s cheating!”   “We never made up any rules!” He grins as you struggle to run on the bouncy surface, restoring to leaping away. The pair of you are laughing incessantly until your stomach aches, but then you’re interrupted by a deafening roar.   Harsh wind swoops your figure back and you’re startled, falling onto your butt again. The red dragon soars past the clouds with its wings expanded. It circles over your head before landing a few steps away. Yet, instead of being frightened like earlier, you laugh this time.   Jin slows down and smiles. “The dragon’s name is Lady.”   “Lady?”   You look around from Jin to her, noticing how long her lashes are. She stares at you as if anticipating something.   “Sit,” you command on a hunch and surprisingly, she listens. Lady plops down on her behind and her tail begins to swing from side to side. You ease and step closer towards her. “Roll over!”   Lady rolls on top of the plush clouds.   Your thumb and forefinger shoot out. “Bang!”   Lady flops to her side as dead weight and you burst out laughing, coming up to pet her, scratching right under her chin. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Yes, you are!” She practically melts in your hand, nuzzling into your palm.   At the same time, Jin watches you with a softened smile. The horizon loses its bright hue.   //   “Have you ever heard of the Little Mermaid?”   “Tell me about it.”   “Well, it’s a story about a mermaid who falls in love with a prince she rescues. She trades her tail for legs in exchange for her voice to be with him. But he thinks someone else saved him and marries that girl instead.”   Jin’s brows are deeply furrowed, taken aback by the fairy tale. “Then what happened?”   “She’s given the choice of killing him to get her tail back, but in the end, she can’t do it. So she throws herself into the ocean and becomes sea foam.”   “That’s sad,” he says on an exhale, genuinely saddened by the story and you suppose the first time hearing it is always the most emotional.   But you agree with him. Part of you finds it hard to understand why someone would give up their family and home, but your friends always said love makes you do crazy things — whatever that’s supposed to mean.   Your hand tightens on Jin’s as the both of you swim deeper into the ocean’s trenches. The only way you’re able to breathe comfortably is through the water-breathing seaweed you thought of, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that something doesn’t need to exist in the real world to materialize in Foreverland.   The waters are perfectly still, a vivid cyan with the golden sunshine from above cascading through. It shimmers all around you and once the soft sand floor comes to view, so does the rocky towers and arches.   All from your imagination, you’ve constructed a whole water kingdom. Now, colourful schools of fish glide past you, anemone and seaweed practically wave, seahorses swim by and the corals decorating the structures are vibrant against the stony shades.   Jin smiles, swimming closer with you hand-in-hand so none of you can drift away. “I never thought about doing this.”   “Have you ever heard about Atlantis? It’s apparently a city underwater that’s sort of like this too. I read it in a book once.”   “You really like to read,” Jin muses and you nod.   “It’s the only time when I can be somewhere else without having to really be there.”   Jin stops at the center of the city’s square, surrounded by the many towers and buildings you’ve created in the middle of the sea. “You can make all those stories come true in Foreverland.”   As sincere as his words may be, they spur on your curiosity. “How long have you been in Foreverland for?”   “I don’t remember.” He looks to the distance. “A long, long time.”   Before you can dwell on what he says or decipher the expression on his face, you’re swept up by a school of rainbow fishes that tickle your skin. A giggle emits from your lips and air bubbles float upwards as the water sparkles around your frame. With the distraction, you don’t notice the way Seokjin’s gazing at you.   Or the way the sunshine shimmer dims.   //   It’s a busy day — from being woken up by a dragon quite literally stealing you out of bed, having a tea party, climbing a beanstalk to jump on bouncy clouds, and exploring an underwater kingdom, you and Jin are equally winded when night arrives.   So the pair of you opt to gaze at the stars instead of going on another adventure. You lay next to each other on the meadow floor. On top of a bed of soft grass with daisies surrounding you.   “Did you know the North Star always stays in the same spot?”   “Really?” Jin shifts his head, looking at your profile instead of the glimmering pinpricks of light. A daisy near him droops.   “All the constellations move except for that one. It’s pretty easy to see too. It’s right there.” You point upwards. “If you can find the Big Dipper, you can find the North Star.”   Jin smiles to himself as you chat about all the things you know. He’s always been the one showing others, guiding them around, teaching them about Foreverland. It’s nice to be the one who listens for a change. But eventually, he’s lulled by the sound of your voice and your own lids begin to droop before you’ve realized that you’ve dozed off.   It’s a bit later on that in your sleepy haze, you feel the brush of a blanket.    Jungkook sneaks by, draping the cotton over your forms before he lays down too with his arms behind his head. Lady, on the other hand, curls around your frame to further keep you warm.    And the four of you fall asleep like that, out in the open of the most magical place.   //   Time passes quickly in Foreverland. You suppose it’s like that when you’re busy having tea parties with Lady, Jungkook and Jin. When you’re going on adventures together. When you’re exploring the entire island. Telling each other stories. Manifesting all kinds of creations.   But every so often, your mind strays and you wonder what your family at home thinks.   You’ve been at Foreverland for more days than you can count on both your hands and you don’t want to leave. But you wonder if you should. You wonder if they’re worried. If they’re searching for you.   The last conversation you had with your parents was an argument. You didn’t mean to stomp off, to disappear completely. You just didn’t want to marry Namjoon, but it’s not right to end things that way.   And all of it weighs on your mind.   It lingers. Even when you’re laughing, giggling, having so much fun that you want to stay forever.   “Jin.”   “Hmm?”   “Should I go back?”   He turns to you abruptly, like he already knows the meaning of those four words, as if you don’t need to explain any further. And his brows furrow deeply, boyish visage ruined by the hurt.   “Why?”   “I….just don’t want my family to worry about me.” You fiddle with the long strands of grass spilling past the gaps of your fingers. “I’ve been here for a long time.”   “Time works differently here than it does where the others live,” he says and your eyes connect. “You don’t need to be worried that they’re worried. They’ll barely know you’re gone.”   It’s comforting to be assured by him, but it still doesn’t solve the unrest stowed in your heart.   It’s not right to abandon them. To leave your family behind. Even if they, themselves, don’t know—   “What do you want to do?” Jin suddenly asks, interrupting your thoughts with his gleaming irises.   You hum, tapping your chin.   He smiles. “Do you want to go on a pirate adventure again? Or go slay the giant.”   “I have a better idea.” A grin swells into your cheeks as a suggestion forms in your mind. “Have you ever heard of Cinderella?”    He shakes his head.   “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cinderella born, and she grew up being mistreated by her stepmother and stepsisters. One day, there was a ball in the kingdom and everyone went, except for her. But then her fairy godmother came and gave her a beautiful dress. She went to the ball and danced with the prince.”   “There’s a lot of princes in these fairy tales,” Seokjin interjects and you laugh.   “Yes, there are.” You chide, “Don’t interrupt! I haven’t finished.”   “Sorry. Keep going.”   Night sets and stars paint across the sky like silver glitter spilled onto black paper. A full golden moon sits high up to accompany the stars. The weather is warm and the breeze caresses against your cheeks, a perfect cuddle against your form. The light from inside your splendid castle spills out on the horizon of the otherwise tranquil Foreverland.   “The spell wore off at midnight, so right before the clock struck the twelfth hour, the girl ran away and she only left a glass slipper behind. The prince tried to find her and once her foot fit the slipper, they got married and lived happily ever after.”   Jin hums, less amused than he was with the other fairy tales you told. “What do you want to do with this story?”   “Have a ball, of course! It would be a lot of fun.”   “I’m not really the dancing type.”   “Then I’ll just have to teach you!”   The rounded carriage pulls up to the stone steps of the castle and you get out, kitten heels hitting against the cobblestone. You’re a bit more clumsy walking in them than you expected, but Lady grunts happily and helps you up the stone stairs by nudging you with her head. You pet and praise her when you get to the top and her lashes flutter as she lays back down at the bottom.   You’re not one for dressing up when your mother’s always nagging and fretting over every single detail. But it’s fun to do it yourself and envision that you’re an actual princess of Foreverland. It feels like you’ve completed another one of your dreams — purple ball gown, flowers sewn into the skirt, sparkling tulle overwhelming, and a crown of daisies in your hair.   For once, you feel less like the tomboy climbing trees and more like a princess from a storybook.   “Welcome.” Jungkook smiles boyishly, dressed in his own costume. White shirt with ruffled sleeves, long blue coat, breeches and stockings — he looks silly, like he’s from two centuries ago, but you don’t laugh in case he gets embarrassed.    Tonight, Jungkook’s playing the role of the squire after all. And he stands near the entrance, happily allowing the grand doors to open. He grins before announcing your name, “Y/N!”   Once the crack of the door parts, your eyes fall directly to Jin in the center of the golden ballroom.   There are funny puppets you’ve made filling the room — paper figurines you used to cut out as a child now full size and flapping to the breeze, stumbling around as a poor excuse of dancing. They make you laugh, the sound traveling mellifluously above the violins and trumpets playing by themselves in the corner. It’s the good kind of classical music that adds to the elegant atmosphere.   But you don’t dwell, not when Jin holds out his hand and you walk to him before taking it.   You slide his one hand on the small of your waist while your hand is placed on his shoulder and you hold his other. Jin’s dressed in princely attire, black jacket with a golden sash across and dark trousers. His hair is pushed to the side, revealing his forehead and you muse how it makes him lean to the older side of his usual appearance.   “You’re very handsome,” you admit with a smile, realizing his shoulders are broader than you ever considered. “How do I look?”   “Pretty,” Jin exhales and the way he says it makes you embarrassed as well. You’ve never been complimented excessively in your lifetime, but enough times that they easily roll off your shoulders. Yet, somehow, with the way he’s staring at you, with the way the syllables stutter out of his lips, a single word you know that is genuinely spoken, you feel your face heating.   “Thank you.” You divert your eyes towards your shoes and guide him with your steps. “Step back once and then to the side. One, two, three. Like that. See? You got it already! Who said you couldn’t dance?”   Jin hums, naturally falling into a rhythm. He’s a fast learner.    “Do you feel like a princess now?”   A cheeky grin swells your cheeks. “I do with you around.”    “This is surprisingly fun.”   “Of course, it is.” Your eyes flicker to the chandelier hanging off of the rounded, high ceiling. Then to the polished marble floor that’s ornate with flowers and swirls. The entire room is a warm, yellow hue and it seems to sparkle. “The pictures of balls were always pretty in storybooks. I liked them as much as the adventure stories.”   As the music swells, Jin spins you around and you twirl across the floor with a hand held.    But as you land back into his arms, his left foot smashes on yours. “S-Sorry!”   Laughter bubbles out of you. “It’s okay.”   You look into Jin’s eyes, soaking in just how brown his irises are. They resemble the warmth of the sun, a cup of coffee your dad would brew on cold mornings. They’re deep and comforting. And for a mere moment, it feels like you’re just two people who met at a dance hall one magical evening — same-aged strangers who could’ve run into each other serendipitously.   “How old are you, Jin?”   “Whatever you want me to be.”   Suddenly, you realize your feet are not on the ground anymore. You’re levitating, floating mid-air, gliding upwards. Immediately, you gasp and grip Jin closer, pressing your body onto his.   He smiles tenderly.   “Jin!”   “It’s alright. Just trust me.”   The music crescendos as you dance while drifting around the ballroom in his arms. The skirt of your gown sweeps with you and magic thrums the air, vibrating on your skin. You feel enchanted, swept up in the moment, in his eyes and embrace.   The corner of Jin’s mouth tugs and a quiet giggle befalls your lips as he twirls you around again.   When the both of you become tired, you get back to the floor and stumble out onto the castle terrace laughing.   You’re still catching your breaths, his cheeks rosy and yours warm. The violins are muffled behind the glass doors.   “Look at the stars, Jin!” you tap his shoulder twice, pointing upwards to the boundless horizon.   You don’t notice how he’s turned to gaze at you. How his eyes have become tender. “I’m looking.”   You rest against the balcony railings with a quiet sigh. “We should’ve done this sooner.”   “We could always do it again.”   Your head swivels over and you’re caught off guard to see Seokjin staring at you intently, as if he has something to say but doesn’t quite know how to. Your breath hitches in your throat and you gaze back at him, eyes met, tension overwhelming. It’s a moment that reminds you of when you were younger, when you used to peek into the kitchen at night and see your mom and dad at the counter speaking in low tones — intimate. The word you were searching for: intimate.   Ding Dong. You snap back to your senses when the clock strikes midnight. The bell chime resonates through Foreverland and you grin.   “Guess that’s my cue to leave.”   Staying true to the tale of Cinderella, you slip away from his side.    Yet, you’re immediately pulled back. Seokjin takes your hand before you can fully walk away, cradling your palm gently in his. “Y/N,” he calls you quietly and you spin around. “Stay with me.”    You’re not sure why he has that expression on his face. Why he looks anxious. Why his wings become transparent.   “I’m joking,” you say with a smile to ease him. “I don’t need to run off at midnight like actual Cinderella.”    “No. I mean...stay with me in Foreverland.” A pause. His deep timbre is heartrending. “You don’t need to go back.”   “Jin.” You step closer to him, brows furrowed deep enough to hurt. You don’t know what to tell him. You don’t know how to utter the words that are restrained in your throat. “I have to go back eventually. I can’t just leave my family behind forever and I can always come back. It’s not like you’ll be alone anyhow. You have Jungkook—”   “You’re different,” he instantly blurts and you frown, not sure you quite understand.   “What do you mean?”   Jin opens his mouth but closes it a second later. “I’m not sure. You’re just...different.”   You’re utterly confused, but unable to dawdle on the subject when he smiles and squeezes your held hands, pulling you back into the ballroom. “Let’s dance some more.”   //   It’s seldom that you awake peacefully — without Lady ripping off the roof of your castle to pick you up by her teeth, without Jungkook bouncing on your bed and pretending he’s a knight in the middle of battle, or Seokjin trying to tickle you to consciousness to start the day of adventures.   But today, it’s quiet. Unusually so.   When you step out of your castle, you’re horrified to find the ground split. The land across Foreverland is cracked several inches wide and deep enough that all you see is darkness when you peek in. It’s as if there was an earthquake or a storm that caused an earth fissure.   The flowers have lost their colour — petals and leaves monochrome. The trees don’t sway. And when you look up at the sky, in between the azure horizon is a streak of the black galaxy.    It’s as if Foreverland itself is starting to crack.   Panic overcomes you.   “Jin! Jin!”   You run, avoiding the split of the ground, sprinting across the gray meadow and towards Jin’s treehouse on the edge of the forest. You call his name at the top of your lungs, alarmed and frightened at what’s happening. But the figure you see in the distance isn’t him.   It’s Jungkook and you’re relieved to find someone in reach.    “W-What’s going on?” you pant, catching your breath and slowing down. “Jungkook?”   The boy’s frowning, lips lopsided, eyes diverted from you.    He’s not panicking — he knows something.   “I’m…..I’m not allowed to tell you.”   “What? What is it?!”   He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, scratching the back of his neck, fidgeting on spot. He doesn’t utter a single word and anger swells inside of you. “Jungkook!”    The boy groans loudly and leans over to take your hand. “As long as you promise not to tell. I’m only doing this because you’re so special, okay?” Jungkook starts walking frantically towards the treehouse and you struggle to catch up to him.   “W-Where are you taking me?”   “You’ll see.”   The both of you climb the stairs of the treehouse and enter. You’ve come here enough times, glanced out the window, laid on the wooden framed bed, sat at the oak table, admired the strung lights and cozy atmosphere. But Jungkook comes to the bookcase on the back wall and pulls out the spine of a blue book.   You step back in surprise when it trembles and starts descending into the floor, revealing a concealed area. In moments, the top of the bookcase is snug against the floorboards like two seams never even there.   Jungkook looks back at you and you follow after him.   It’s a darkened space that consists of a downwards spiraling staircase and you begin to descend down. You figure that you’re inside the tree and that alone amazes you.   Jungkook materializes a lantern in hand to give luminescence and the two of you come to a wooden door at the bottom of the staircase. He hangs back and looks at you. “Open it.”   Your hand wraps around the golden knob and you push it open.   Wind sweeps through your hair, making you shut your eyes. But once it subsides and you look again, you’re met with a hidden room of secrets — a small space with towering piles of briefcases on desks and scattered across the floor. There’s metal filing cabinets, picture frames, books, soaring stacks of papers. It clutters the room, giving off a suffocating feeling.    You step in slowly. “What...is all this?”   “It’s where Jin stores away his subconscious,” Jungkook murmurs and you pick up a photo frame of Jin tensely standing next to what you suppose is his father — a stern-looking man who’s similar to his son but with more wrinkles. They’re both expressionless in the fuzzy photograph. “He comes from a long line of salesmen. His dad was a salesman and so was his grandfather and his great-grandfather.”   You set the picture down and look upon the heaps of briefcases, almost scared they’ll topple over you and smother you to death.   “If Jin talks about his reality, his creations will shatter, so he stowed everything away,” Jungkook says and you turn around to look at him. “You still have a connection to reality, so it doesn’t affect you as much, but the longer you stay here, the more you have to detach yourself from the real world.”   “How do you know all this? How...do you know Jin’s secrets?”   The boy smiles gingerly. “I’m not just Jin’s imaginary friend or best friend, Y/N. I’m his voice of reason and self-awareness. He stowed those parts away too, just in me, so he wouldn’t have to feel so sad all the time. You could say I’m the adult in him. Or at least, I have all the adult parts of him.”   “The adult parts of him?”   Jungkook nods. “Foreverland is a place for kids who don’t want to grow up. It grants magic so people can escape to it, but you can only stay if you retain your innocence. Or if you don’t regret it and choose to leave. Kids always end up growing up and choosing to leave, and Jin recognized that. So he decided to put away any part of himself that would ever grow to regret it.”   You wonder how many children came and went. How many stepped in Foreverland, spent their time here and chose to leave in the end in spite of everything he did to get them to stay. You wonder how many times Jin was left alone. Abandoned.   You wonder if that’s why he begged you to stay with him forever.   Your voice is a cracked whisper— “How long has he been in Foreverland for?”   “Time works differently in Foreverland, so I’m not sure how much it is in the real world.” Jungkook is as solemn as you are. “He’s probably been gone for a lot less. But he came here when he was your age and he’s been here for twenty eight years. Five of which he spent without anyone outside.”   You’re stunned, made speechless, trying to fathom that length of time.   “Twenty eight years?” More importantly, you don’t know why you feel so heartbroken. “What has he been doing in that time?”   “He’s been looking for a partner to stay in Foreverland with him for...forever.” Jungkook musters another smile and he shrugs with melancholy faded in his doe eyes. “The dream world Seokjin built is lonely by himself and I’m just an imaginary friend. I’m the only other person who can take a human shape. You can’t create humans in Foreverland — I was just already in his mind when he arrived here, so it worked.”   It’s a lot to understand, to wrap your mind around. All the secrets of this magical place are being spilled into your lap and you’re not sure what to do. All you’re certain about is that Jin’s stored away parts of himself, that he’s been deserted over and over again, and that he’s been yearning for someone permanent.   He’s been suffering.   “Y/N?”   “Then why is Foreverland breaking apart?” you quickly ask. “Is it because his subconscious is leaking back into him? Is it because of this room?!”   Jungkook smiles softly. “It’s because Seokjin’s falling in love with you.”   A beat. A pause.   Your heart swells up to the bottom of your throat and it aches.   “That’s what’s distorting his reality and everything he’s built in Foreverland. Falling in love means abandoning innocence since children can’t fall in love the same way adults can,” Jungkook murmurs. “It’s been happening for a while, Y/N. You just haven’t noticed. The flowers and leaves withering, the sky losing its colour, the breeze stopping, the sun becoming less bright…”   Jin’s falling in love with you?    He loves you?   You don’t know why that discovery has you so joyful and sorrowful at the same time. His emotions are reaching out for the part of him that he tucked away. Yet, at the same time, you’re the one ruining all of Seokjin’s dreams. You’re destroying everything he’s ever created.   “That’s not a bad thing,” Jungkook interrupts and your eyes meet his. “It’s not a bad thing to be in love, Y/N.”   “What...what will happen to you if Foreverland breaks?”   The corner of the boy’s mouth tugs timidly. “Don’t worry. Foreverland will always be a place and I’ll always exist here, even if Seokjin leaves and forgets about me.”   Jungkook takes your hand and guides you away from the room. “I think you deserve to hear all of this since you’re becoming someone important to Jin too. But you should keep it a secret or else he might throw me overboard during the next pirate game.”   “Jungkook.”   He turns around, simply smiling at you. The boy leads you up the stairs and seals the space with the bookcase again. You step out of the treehouse and knowing the secrets of Foreverland, everything looks different to you now.   It’s less like a paradise of infinite dreams. More like a fragile flower about to wither.   Jungkook comes beside you and waves his hand. He repairs Seokjin’s Foreverland.   The ground stitches back together, the sky painted blue again, the flowers becoming vibrant. But you know it’s just a temporary fix. Underlying the polished layer are cracks.   //   It’s never the same again. Tea parties, dragon rides, adventures and explorations of Foreverland — Seokjin doesn’t once notice the way the colour in his flowers are losing their hue or the way the branches of his treehouse are withering, losing leaves like it’s the autumn season.   Your naiveté has been casted away.   You can’t ignore it once you’ve seen it, can’t revert the enlightenment, and you can’t stay with him.   Not when it’s ruining the world he’s made. Not when he has no choice in the matter. Not when he’s not even aware that this is happening.   “Jin.”   He shifts to you.    The pair of you are sitting on the branch of the tallest tree in Foreverland again, reminiscent of the first time you came here. You climbed while he flew, and together, the both of you look out at the sun, sitting next to one another. And you savour this moment, knowing it’s the last.   Your breath is heavy in your lungs. “I’ve decided to go back.”   “Go back to where?”   “Home.”   “The castle?”   “No.” You can’t look at him. Your voice drops down to a quiet murmur, “Home where my family is.…..where my parents are. Home as in where you took me away from.”   Silence.   It threads through the spaces between your bodies that seems to be growing as the seconds pass. The weight of tension lies on your shoulders and a lump forms at the bottom of your throat, clogging the overwhelming emotions bubbling in the pit of your stomach.   You finally gather the courage to look at him and he utters a single word—   “When?”   “A-As soon as possible.”   “Why?”   You muster a small smile. “It looks like I can’t leave them behind after all. It’s...not your fault, Jin.”   For the first time and for one last moment, you reach out. Both you and Seokjin are looking forward towards the sky, but your hand hesitantly slips on top of his. A beat later, he turns your palm to lace his fingers through yours, squeezing your hand tightly.   “Do you really have to?” he asks.   “I do.”   “When will you be back?”   “I don’t think I will come back.” You swallow hard, eyes stinging painfully. “This is goodbye forever.”   Suddenly, Seokjin lets go of your hand and he launches himself forward, flying away. You stand up from the branch, stunned by his cold reaction. “Wait!” you scream after him. You don’t want this to be the last moment. You don’t want it to end like this. “Take me back! Jin—!”   In the midst of your panic, your foot slips. You lose balance and teeter backwards. It’s too late. A shriek tears from your throat as you fall. Stomach dropping. Eyes shut tight. But before you can conjure something up to save yourself or cushion the landing, the blow is softened by warm arms.   Your lids flutter open to find that Jin’s caught you. He’s carrying you with one arm behind your knees and the other around your back. You loop your arms around his neck, gasping for air and he swoops to the ground.   Jin sets you down on the soft grass. “We’ll leave tonight.”   His turquoise, translucent wings rapidly beat and he takes flight again. You watch his backside fade into the golden sunset until it’s a black silhouette too difficult to look at. And you know there’s not much of an hour left.   //   Never once had you dreaded when night came to Foreverland.    You always looked forward to the starry horizon, watching the constellations move overhead and laid in the grass with your close friends by your side. You liked to count the specks of glitter, admire the shine of the moon, allow the breeze to caress your cheeks. Yet, it feels bittersweet tonight.   You’re not sure if it’s because you yearn to stay in Foreverland. Or if it’s because you’re afraid of leaving the people behind.   The red dragon curls up to your frame and you smile while running your hand down her scaly muzzle. She whimpers, cuddling up to your touch. “I’ll miss you a lot, but you’ll be a good girl, right, Lady?”   She grunts and the sound of crunching grass beneath feet has you whirling around. Jungkook approaches with his arms behind his back and your smile widens. “So you’re going?”   “Uh-huh. Get in here, Kook.” You come over, opening your arms to hug him.   Jungkook squeezes you back and he mumbles in your ear, “Are you sure this is the right decision?”   “No.” You part from him, taking a good look at the boy who kidnapped you for a game, who led expeditions and adventures through Foreverland, who let you know the secrets of this magical place. “I wish I could be sure when I make a choice.”   The corner of Jungkook’s mouth curls. “Even adults are never sure.”   That alone comforts you, resonating inside your mind.   Seokjin arrives at that moment, flying towards you and landing smoothly. He doesn’t look you in the eye. “It’s time to leave.”    You nod and he carries you the same way he brought you to Foreverland, his arm placed around the back of your knees and the other behind your back while yours are looped around his neck. He lifts you up like you don’t weigh a feather and he soars into the sky.   You look down to see Jungkook waving with a boyish grin, Lady roaring out. You watch how your castle, the last traces of your time spent on the island, becomes a mere dot in the distance. The sandy beaches, open meadows, Seokjin’s treehouse, forest and mountains, they fade into the clouds. You blink back the tears that have accumulated, that threaten on your lash line and you look ahead to allow them to flow without Jin being able to see.   The two of you soar beyond the wispy clouds and blue oceans until the silver moon is high over the horizon. The wind brushes through your hair and you allow yourself to lean onto Seokjin’s chest, savouring the warmth of his embrace.   As soothing as it is, you focus on the view to subside your sobs. And it’s still a breathtaking sight, even when your vision is hazy by tears. Eventually, the pair of you fly over a familiar city, watching the way the lights of the buildings glimmer into a mosaic of colours.   Your house comes into sight.    Jin didn’t even need reminders of the direction, as if he memorized the house you came from.   “You can set me down in front of the house,” you mumble, hoping he can’t hear how clogged your voice is from silently crying the entire way.   He nods and descends swiftly. Jin sets you down on the grass and you hold onto him, hoping he won’t leave so soon, hoping you can have another moment. But you know this is goodbye.   This is it.   You turn to face him.   He’s the first one to say something. “Are you sure?”   You nod. “I’m sorry—”   “You shouldn’t be.” He slips your grip off of him and you flinch, hurt. But then he takes your hands in his and your eyes meet. “I won’t force anyone to stay with me if they don’t want to.”   No. It’s not like that! Yet the declaration lays on your tongue, threatening to spill, but never coming out. He has it wrong. It’s not like you don’t want to stay. But if you told him that, in the last seconds of your final farewell, what would he say? What would he ask you?   “I….I loved every second I spent with you, Jin! I—”   The lights inside the house suddenly flicker on and you whirl around, wondering if they woke up from your loud voices. You’re running out of time.   “Go inside,” Jin says gently with a wistful smile.    He lets go of you. About to take off.   But before the time runs out completely, before midnight has struck, you rush forward and plant a kiss on his cheek. It’s soft. Chaste. Your lips press against his rosy skin, hesitant and timid.   Jin’s stunned, eyes as big as saucer and he looks at you.    You muster a smile, trying your best not to cry and leave that as his last memory of you.   “Thank you.”   Before tears can spring from your eyes in the form of heavy April rain, you spin around and hurry to the door of your house. Your mother’s bad habit of leaving the door unlocked makes it easy to turn the knob and you step inside. But when temptation is at its highest, you peek over your shoulder.   But Jin’s already gone.   As quick as he came into your life.   “Oh Heavens to Betsy! Oh my goodness!” The cry of your mother gives no room for you to grieve. She stumbles down the stairs, unable to believe her eyes. “Harold! Y/N’s come home!”   Your mother scurries and even though she’s upset, she immediately embraces you with a fervour that has you shifting back. You can feel her entire frame shaking and you hug her back, pressing your face to her shoulder to dispel away the tears collecting in your eyes.   Your father comes at the commotion, slippers clunking on his feet down the stairs. Once you come into sight, he’s shocked frozen in his spot. “Y/N?”   Your mother lets go and you smile at your father. “I’m home.”   “Where did you go?”   “I thought you did something foolish,” your mother gripes. “You were gone for three days! I wanted to go down to the station but your dad decided to wait! I couldn’t sleep a wink at all—”   “Wait. I was gone for three days?” You’re taken aback. You were in Foreverland for three whole months. But you suppose Jungkook really wasn’t lying when he told you time works differently there. “I-I’m sorry. I was staying with a friend farther away. I should’ve said something before I left. I’m….sorry.”   “No.” Your dad shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”   In your entire life, your father’s never apologized to you. He’s not the kind to, always disciplining with a firm mindset, never to give any leeway. So you’re even more astounded.    “What for?”   “I’m sorry for forcing you to do things that you didn’t want to do. I was just worried. But I won’t push you to marry Namjoon if that’s not what you want.”   “He’s been doing a lot of thinking lately, sweetheart.” Your mother smiles, coming to his side.   You shake your head. “No, I understand. I’m just…..I’m just really happy to be home.”   Your mom’s brows furrow. “Then why are you crying, Y/N?”   You don’t realize you are until she says it. Until your hand lifts and you’re wiping at your wet cheeks. Then the sobs surge and you cry harder, choked whimpers spilling from your aching chest, your throat constricting your emotions. Your mom quickly comes to embrace you and you lean into her while looking past your hazy vision, out the kitchen window, to the starry sky above.

Memories of Foreverland begin to fade against your will as time goes on.   You wonder if it has anything to do with what Jungkook told you and how your connection to the place is weak. But you begin to forget the scent of the flower meadow, the taste of the special earl grey on your palate, the heat of the sun beating on your cheeks.   Then, it’s the feeling of loneliness when you climb the tree in the field to read while your mom looks on from the kitchen window. Sitting on the branch and gazing out at the view, you wonder why it feels so lonely when you’re used to doing it by yourself.   A haunting nostalgia lingers uncomfortably as well. Most often when you see kids doing play pretend on the streets, when you listen to their bubbling laughter, soak in their carefree nature.   After that, you begin to forget doe eyes, soft yet scaly texture against your hands, and dark hair. Twinkling irises. A mischievous smile. Brown eyes that resembled the warmth of the sun to you.   A rotten sense of discomfort overcomes your very being.    Like there was something you should’ve never forgotten. Like you’re missing something, or rather, someone. It’s a crazed desperation of yearning that aches your chest. And you can’t shake that pain off.   All you know is that you often wake up in the middle of the night with a tear-stained pillow and there’s the word Foreverland written on a page at your desk that you have no idea what it means, even when you know it’s your writing.   You slip inside the house quietly, dress ruined from tree climbing. You wonder if you’ll be scolded—   “...just looks so sad these days.” Instead, you overhear your mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Heavens, ever since she came back from her trip a week ago.”   “Did she ever say who she visited? Maybe that has something to do with it.”   “No, she hasn’t said a single word. Maybe she should go see a doctor, Harold. Our little girl’s not speaking much either and it’s startin’ to worry me. She’s not usually like this…”   You step into the pastel pink kitchen. They straighten their posture and seal their lips as if to pretend you weren’t the topic of discussion a moment ago and you muster a smile.    “Afternoon.” You go to pour a cup of the orange juice from the pitcher and pause. “Actually, I was just thinking about something.”   Your mother places down the kitchen towel, anticipation clear in her face. “What is it, dear?”   “Well…” You turn around, leaning against the counter. “I was thinking about everything, what I want to do from now on, how Irene and Sarah are, all my friends and all that, and I think it’s time for me to get married.”   They’re shocked.    Your mother’s mouth draws open while your father promptly puts down his newspaper, folding it back up.   “This...this is great news, honey!” A grin draws on your mother’s features and she comes to hug you. You’re nearly squeezed to death. “I can’t believe you’ve finally come around and changed your mind!”   But your father seems less enthused. “Are you sure?”   You nod. “Sure as I’ll ever be.”   You’re fairly certain the only way to shake off this painful discomfort is by moving on. It’s not like you want to worry your parents anymore either. Like they said, it’s time to be an adult.   And just like that, you’re thrusted forward quicker than you can imagine.   The next time you meet with Namjoon, he gets down on one knee and presents his grandmother’s gawky heirloom to you in a box. He ends up sliding it on your ring finger before you even get a chance to respond properly.   “How do you feel in this dress?” your mother asks.   One blink later, you’re placed in front of a mirror, drowning in a white, wedding dress.    The skirt is overwhelming your frame and it’s oddly tight around your midsection, making it hard to breathe. Not to mention, the sleeves are cut off awkwardly, not quite at your wrist or at your elbow. The lace sweetheart neckline is scratchy at your skin too, making you itch at it.   It’s ugly.   “It’s beautiful,” Irene squeals.   Sarah nods her head, pulling another tissue out to dab at her eyes. “You look gorgeous, Y/N. I think this is the one.”   You muster a smile.   Even if you go this far, for some reason, you don’t think you’ll ever forget about those brown eyes.

In the real world, it’s been days. In Foreverland, it’s been months.   Seokjin sits by himself in the meadow, downcast head and reddened eyes.   Foreverland is falling apart around him. The ground continues to splinter with each moment that passes, deepening the trenches that echo silence. The sky has split, no longer azure during the day or filled with stars during the night. It’s become blackened and every so often, pinpricks of light rain down and hit the land as if the stars themselves are falling.   There isn’t a breeze. The ocean does not move. The trees do not sway.   What hasn’t withered has lost their colour — flowers, petals, leaves monochrome like newspaper print. Jin’s own wings flicker between being tangible and a hallucination.   It’s as if Foreverland itself is crumbling and Jin makes no effort to save it.    What’s the point?   In the meanwhile, Jungkook sighs to himself, looking onward. He doesn’t think you ever expected that Seokjin would still be very much in love with you even after you’ve left and removed yourself from this place.   Jungkook approaches his best friend and sits himself down. “What’s wrong?”   Jin picks at the grass. “Nothing.”    The former holds back a snort, staring out at the horizon. “You know I always know how you feel, right?”   “It’s just Y/N,” Jin discloses in a half-hearted mumble. “It feels empty now that she’s gone.”   “A lot of people have left before.”   “It feels different this time.”   “You love her,” Jungkook says in a quiet yet firm voice. It isn’t a question, answer, or suggestion.    It’s factual.    Their eyes meet. It’s silent.   Seokjin’s Foreverland is collapsing, breaking apart at the seams — the treehouse, the flowers, the sky shattering into a darker, less star-full horizon. The proof is all around them and one that cannot be ignored any longer. It screams to be acknowledged, aches to be heard.   The corners of Jungkook’s mouth curl. “Go where you need to be, Seokjin. It’s a better place for newer dreams that you can fulfill. This isn’t where you should be anymore.”   “What about you?”   Jungkook’s boyish smile turns into a grin. “I’ll always be here. Plus, I’m right here too.” He pokes Jin’s chest, right where his heart should be and the latter scoffs with a soft smile. “I won’t miss you too much. We’ve already been together for so long.”   Jin exhales in exasperation and Jungkook leans back, putting more weight into his hands behind him. “Foreverland is a place for visitors. It’s not a place to make a home.”   “Then where’s home?”   Jungkook looks at the sky. “With the people you love most.”

The lace is itchy.    For some reason, scratching doesn’t seem to alleviate the itch, even when you’ve scratched enough to make your skin raw and your fingernails hurt. The dress is really white too. To the point where it’s blinding to your own eyes. You’re starting to think you should’ve gone for the other dress with the feathers even though it was fifteen pounds heavy.    Your mother shrieks and it nearly startles you to death. “Oh my goodness! My daughter’s never looked more beautiful! Now hurry along before we’re late!”   You nod, mustering a smile.   A part of you wonders if this is the right choice, but you remember someone told you that even adults are never sure of their own choices. You wonder who told you tha—   “Are you alright?” your dad interrupts your train of thought.   “Of course, I am.” You nod to reassure him and turn away before his perceptiveness can flourish the doubt that’s long overcome the discomfort that still lingers. You take his arm and inhale a deep breath to brace yourself.   The grand, wooden doors of the church hall open.   It parts and you’re allowed a peek inside. The hundred people seated on the brown benches turn around with smiles. The organ deafeningly plays the beginning discordant chords of the bridal march before it crescendos melodically and echos down into your eardrums. The bridesmaids and groomsmen grip their bouquet of flowers and begin filing down the aisle.   Oh my god. You can do this. You can do th—   “You can always walk away from this.” Your dad’s quiet voice breaks your inner mantra and your eyes find his wrinkled ones. He looks concerned, brows furrowed, lips lopsided and reading the look on your face. “I’m on your side until the end, sweetheart.”   The corner of your mouth pulls into a soft smile. “Thanks, dad.”   It’s your turn. The doors are wide open. The music beckons you to meet your destiny.   And you step inside the church hall. Namjoon is on the other end of the aisle, prim and proper in his traditional suit and bow tie, wearing an amiable smile that could only belong to a businessman. You try to match said expression, but it’s hard to feel your cheeks.   Everyone’s eyes are on you, some dabbing their cheeks with tissue. Irene and Sarah are on the side in their brown bridesmaid dresses, swooning at the sight. And your dad lets go all too soon.   Before you’ve even realized, you’ve made it to the end and he’s passed you to Namjoon, taking his place beside your already sobbing mother in the front rows. The music tapers off as well.   “Welcome, family, friends and loved ones. We gather here today to witness and celebrate the union of Namjoon and Y/N in marriage.”   Namjoon’s holding your gloved hands, his smile picture perfect. You face one another as the officiant drones on.   “Marriage is a joyous occasion. It is the promise between two people who love each other, and who trust in that love. It is truth, honesty, and hardships shouldered among a pair—”   It’s hard to focus when all you can think about is how itchy your lace dress is. And it’s everywhere. From the neckline to your armpits to where the sleeves end. It’s driving you crazy and you wish you could rip your hands away from Namjoon’s to scratch.   “—that are prepared to begin their new life together. Marriage is the most sacred unity in humanity—”   Christ. This is so boring. You can’t wait till this is over and done with. If J͠҉̛̀͏ì͢n̷͏̵͢͞ was here, he would’ve snapped his fingers and put the almost senile, croaking officiant into a pirate costume.   You smile to yourself at the idea, muffling a quiet snicker.   But then you freeze.   Wait. Who’s .̛̀҉̷̕.͠͠͡?   “—and should not be entered into lightly, but rather, reverently, lovingly, solemnly. Thus, if anyone has just cause to object to the forming of this union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”   Suddenly, the doors bang open.   The doors crash against the church walls, startling you to death and nearly causing you to stumble back onto your butt and scream. Everyone instantly whips their head over with widened eyes.   A stranger interrupts, shouting from the pit of his stomach, “Wait!”   There’s a man, perhaps your age or a year or two older, standing at the end of the hall. Dark hair pushed to the side, revealing his forehead. Irises twinkling. And past the crowd, the shocked expressions, the scandalized whispers, the stranger looks right at you.   Namjoon immediately steps forward, covering your sights on the stranger. “Who are you?!” he bellows.   But you place your hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and he stops, looking back at you. You stagger forward with a frown, steps slow down the aisle. Your parents call for you, but you don’t hear them. Not when you’re so transfixed on this man. There’s something strangely…..familiar.   A tap on your shoulder. A boy outside your window.

       “Don’t you want to escape from here? Go on an adventure? Come on!” 

An island. Faraway. With a castle and a treehouse. A….flower field. A dragon. A doe-eyed companion.

       “There’s magic all around us.”

A beanstalk — an underwater kingdom — a magical ball.

       “Stay with me.”

The man gazes at you and you stare back at him, looking into his brown eyes that somehow resembles the warmth of the sun to you. Like a cup of coffee your dad would brew on cold mornings. They’re deep and comforting, and a murmur befalls your trembling lips, “Seokjin?”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re sprinting towards him.   Seokjin grins, plump lips pulled into a mischievous smile, cheeks puffed out like loaves of bread.   You launch yourself at him. Your arms open and your bodies collide against each other. He stumbles back with a laugh and embraces you tightly in his arms. You hug his broad shoulders, eyes fluttering closed, savouring the moment.   He doesn’t have his sparkly red vest, his golden pants, the blue hat with the green feather. Jin doesn’t have his wing either. There’s nothing remotely magical about him, not when he’s just in a plain, white dress shirt tucked into black trousers. But him being here is already the most magical thing that’s happened to you.   “I-I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing here?”   “I had to come see you,” he murmurs. “I went to your house but no one was there. I heard from the neighbour you were getting married today.”   You pull apart from him, inches away from his face. “No. I mean what are you doing here, Jin?”   He doesn’t hesitate. There isn’t uncertainty in his expression. No moment to waver.   He’s as certain as the stars are real and answers within a beat—   “I love you.”   A fact you had known, that creeped up on you and made you feel bittersweet. But something you thought you would never have the chance to hear from his own lips.   You search his expression. “W-What about Foreverland?”   “It doesn’t matter where I am. I just want to be with you.”   You’re crying. You can feel the tears streaking down your cheeks and for once, it’s not from tender longing or a nostalgic sadness. A smile tugs on your lips and you pull him closer.   “What took you so long?”   Seokjin smiles against you. “I needed to get my things in order, but I’m here now and I’ll stay with you if you’ll take me.”   “Yes. Of course, I will, silly.”   You heartbeat pitter patters fervently in your chest and he leans down, brushing his soft lips against yours in a sweet kiss. Your arms come to loop around his neck while his palms cradle your waist. The warmth of Jin’s skin heats your cheeks and your lashes flutter shut while his eyes open just a little to watch you. He kisses you long enough that he can inhale your breath and you feel his smile against your own.   Your heart soars. Everything you had longed for is right here. And it feels like magic. 

[Epilogue]   Growing up and becoming an adult doesn’t mean needing to abandon fun — and your life with Seokjin proves it.    The pair of you go on plenty of adventures and explorations, more than your parents would like. You’re always packing your bags to discover something new. And when you visit, your parents are adamant that sometimes it feels like there are two children at the dinner table.    But you know they’ve never been happier to see how overjoyed you are and what a great fit Seokjin is. They assume he’s someone you met when you disappeared and while that’s technically true, you don’t add more to the story. They don’t question it either.   You’re sure your parents are a lot more worried when they see you teaching Jin how to climb the enormous tree out by the field.   The whole church fiasco ends up as a scandal. It’s the talk of the neighbourhood for months on end. It’s not like you particularly mind — although, you still get glares from Namjoon and his family when you run into them. You’re sure he doesn’t want to hear any more apologies from you, but you’re also certain that this experience will make him less boring as a person.   Your nose twitches.   You sniff the air and before it even registers, you groan.   “Jin! Why is there something burning?!”   You come into the kitchen and call him again, but silence answers. With a sigh, you check the oven and take out the cake that’s practically burnt to ash and push it onto the counter. The smoke is dispersed after you waft the air.   You’re already busy picking up after school children as a teacher, you don’t really need to pick up after your husband too when you get home.   You look out the door and step onto the porch. From a distance, you can see him and a hopeless smile slips onto your visage.   You cross the field, the meadow soft beneath your feet, wind whisking through your hair. The golden sun is sinking over the horizon, turning the sky into shades of tangerine and your figure a black silhouette against the light.   Seokjin’s seated beneath the canopy of the tree. The two covers of the storybook spread over his thighs, page corner crisp against his fingertips. The colours seem to jump out — raspberry, periwinkle and kelly vibrant against the white. He doesn’t notice you approaching, completely enthralled by the adventurous storyline.   While you were gone for three days, Seokjin was gone for two years. It was a mess to sort out with his family too, his father even stricter than yours and angered while his mother was devastated and resentful that her son had chosen to leave without a single word. It was hard for him to adjust to the real world as well. It took time. But you’d like to think Jin made it out okay.    “You left the cake burning in the oven.”   His attention is brought back and he looks up, smiling at you. “Sorry.”   Much to your dismay, Jin pulls you down and plants an affectionate kiss on your cheek.   You scoff lightly and unknowingly pout while your husband grins, already aware he’s gotten away with it.   You plop down next to him and lean your head to lay on his shoulder, staring at the pages of his storybook. “What are you doing?”   “I’m thinking of writing another storybook,” Jin hums. “A sequel to Jungkook’s Adventures. What do you think if I called it Foreverland?”   “I think it’ll be wonderful.”   The two of you share tender smiles, gazing at one another while the tree above you sways, leaves rustling to the warm breeze.   You don’t need magic to live in your dreams forever.

[queen-scribbles]

Wayhaven Week Day 4-Tranquil/Thrill

@otomefandomevents

(AJ is very pleased with herself for claiming this day(and fitting both prompts) and I can’t blame her >:3)

AJ/Nate

----

Abigail watched dust motes dance in the trail of a lazy sunbeam and let out a small, contented hum before dropping her gaze back to the book in her lap. The peace that pervaded the warehouse library was exactly what she needed after a week as busy as this one had been. Peace, quiet, and old books. What more could a girl want? Well, maybe coffee, but she was too afraid of spilling to ever risk that in here.

“May I join you?”

She looked up at the inquiry, brushing wayward curls out of her eyes as she smiled. “’Course.” Alright, there might be one more thing a girl could want.  “Though I hardly think you need my permission t’ sit an’ read in your own library, yeah?”

Nate chuckled as he sat down on the couch with her. “I wouldn’t call it my library,” he said warmly, reaching for one of the books stacked on the coffee table. “Anyone is welcome to use it.”

“Most of the books are yours, though,” Abigail said as she reached up to wrangle her hair into a ponytail before not at all subtly sliding toward him. “Some might say it may as well be.”

“They might,” Nate allowed with a smile, equally unsubtly keeping his arm out of the way as she moved closer.

“An’ anyway, far be it from me t’ deny you access to your favorite place,” she finished lightly as she settled into what was rapidly becoming her favorite place and he let his arm come to rest around her shoulders.

He offered a truly dazzling smile at that, one that made her insides twist and skin warm, before they both dropped their attention to their respective books. Quiet settled over them, broken only by the muted rasp of turning pages. It only took a few moments before Abigail’s fingers sought out a curl that hadn’t made it into her ponytail and started twirling it as she lost herself in the words once again.

She hadn’t the foggiest how much time had passed when she started to roll a crick out of her neck and found Nate studying her rather than the book in his lap.

She paused, hand still resting against the side of her neck, and held his gaze even as her face warmed. “What?”

Nate smiled. “Just enjoying the sight of you so content.”

“Hard not t’ be,” Abigail said with a crooked grin tugging her lips. “Readin’ one of my favorite books, in such a wonderful place, with absolutely grand company.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder as her smile spread. “If that’s not enough t’ turn me into the very picture of contentment, somethin’ is grievously wrong.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. “I have to admit, I’m thrilled to be part of that picture.”

Abigail bit her lip, struggled a moment to string together a coherent thought with him lingering so close, then fumbled to mark her page as she murmured, “T’ be honest, you’re th’ most important part of it.”

If she’d thought his smile before was dazzling, this one was just... irresistibly bright and warm. Her book flopped onto the couch beside her, page lost as she shifted to return the kiss. 

It broke when Nate leaned forward to set his book back on the coffee table and Abigail pushed off the couch to slide into his lap, before they crashed back together fiercely enough it set her toes curling. She hummed in agreement or encouragement--she wasn’t sure which--when his arms slid around her waist, her own circling his neck, fingers curling into his hair.

Abigail broke this kiss reluctantly and only when she started to see spots from lack of air. And even that was just long enough for Nate to breathe her name in a whisper-soft rush against her cheek before they were both leaning in again. His hand trailed up her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, until he was cupping her cheek. His other arm tightened to hold her closer, an action she mimicked as the kiss deepened.

The library door didn’t make nearly enough noise for her to hear it open. “Hey, AJ, Agent Jenings wa-” The words cut off with a delighted-sounding gasp, hefty pause, and then a cackling peal of laughter from Felix. “Oh, I am so glad Adam made me come get you.”

Abigail started out of the kiss with a squeak, face heating until she was certain it matched her hair. She squeezed her eyes closed and buried her flushed forehead against Nate’s cheek. Some things never change, she thought with no small amount of resigned despair, far too mortified to turn and face the undoubtedly grinning Felix.

Nate’s jaw tightened. “Felix, out.”

“I’d love to, Natey,” Felix said jovially, and Abigail’s fingers curled deeper into Nate’s shirt at how clearly he was enjoying this. “You kids deserve some fun. But AJ’s mom wants to talk to her, so if I come back without her, you know the next step’s just Rebecca or Adam’ll come looking themselves. It’s not like it’s hard to guess this is the most likely place to find either of you.”

Nate groaned in mingled frustration and resignation, the sound ever so faintly edged in a growl. She knew the feeling.

“Tell her I’m comin’,” Abigail mumbled into the side of Nate’s neck. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“What was that, AJ? I couldn’t hear you,” Felix said, tone so innocent he had to be sporting a Cheshire grin. “There’s a vampire in the way.”

“She’s coming and will be there in a minute,” Nate repeated for her, and she gave him a peck on the cheek in appreciation. “Now, out.”

“Okay, okay. She’s in the living room once you, uh, untangle yourself, AJ,” Felix laughed.

Friend or not, that was where the temptation to throw something at him reared its head. Maybe her boot. Or a paperweight.

But the door closed--with enough volume Felix had probably made a show of it--before she made up her mind. Abigail still stayed as she was a few more seconds before straightening and catching Nate’s eye.

“Apparently that darn Ferris wheel’s the only place we get t’ have any privacy,” she sighed with a rueful smile, fingers idly brushing back and forth at the nape of his neck.

“Apparently,” he agreed with an equally rueful chuckle. “Shame the carnival’s gone.”

She laughed softly and ducked in for another kiss. “I should go find Mum. Before she or Adam really does come lookin’.”

Nate tucked her loose curl behind her ear, let his fingers trail down the side of her face. “Probably a good idea.”

Abigail leaned her forehead against his. “I don’t want to. I’d rather stay with you, yeah?”

Nate chuckled. “I’d rather that, too.” He tipped his chin forward to kiss her again, the thrill of it running all the way down her spine. “However, I won’t be going anywhere for a while....”

She grinned and ran her thumb over his lower lip. “Hopefully whatever Mum wants t’ talk about won’t take long, an’ I’ll come back when I’m done?”

He gave her another of those dazzlingly warm smiles she wanted to keep to cheer her up on bad days. “An excellent plan.”

With a heavy sigh and one last stolen kiss, she slid out of his lap and stood, pausing to stretch before she left the room. “An’ if readin’ together starts turnin’ into... that again, we’ll just hafta figure a way t’ lock the door or be harder to find so there’s less chance of bein’ interrupted.”

Nate laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I do have it on good authority it may as well be my library,” he said playfully,though the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Exactly,” Abigail grinned. “Enjoy your book. I’ll be back soon. I hope.”

“AJ.” Nate caught her hand as she started to shuffle toward the door, waited until she looked back to brush a kiss against her knuckles, smiled when the gesture made her bite her lip.

“That’s some grand incentive not t' dilly-dally,” she managed as she reluctantly slipped her hand free with a groan. “But I really need t’ go.” 

He nodded and reached for his book, settling into the couch. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Abigail managed a nod of her own, then hurried out the door before her resolve could break again. The warmth of his touch lingered as she walked rapidly through the halls, a very present reminder of what waited when she was finished talking to Mum.

Books, peace and quiet, and Nate.

Grand incentive, indeed.

[maiji]

Process and wip images for A House That Holds Long Limbs (Part 8)

Previous process and wip documentation: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Parts 6 and 7

Read the pages here: Part 8 (full complete version will be linked from YYH North Bound master post)

I personally love exploring character dynamics and character interaction! It's definitely what I tend to focus on in comics and stories. Plus you get to draw lots of closeups of people's faces and have a lot of fun with expressions. And that's what Part 8 is full of.

IN THIS EDITION, after the usual script and thumbnails, I'll take a bit of time to talk about expressions and characterization (my thoughts on Raizen and Hokushin specifically, but also some general thoughts on how I approach writing characters and character interactions). More details of some of the panels from part 8 so you can see the faces better!

Script and thumbnails

(If you look closely at the top of pg 2, you can see the page behind was where I started drawing my random dream sequence hahahah)

It’s always kind of funny to look back at the script and see my rushed typing (or texting on my phone, since I’m often doing this on mobile...) - odd typos and dangling/incomplete thoughts like ”my blodd” (lol).

Part 8 was one of the first sequences conceived in the development of this story. As a result, the script and the thumbnails both line up very closely to the final, because I’d already been thinking about it for so long and playing the scene out repeatedly in my head. I had a very concrete sense of how I wanted to direct it, unlike many of the action sequences from previous parts. The main areas I struggled with were historical details (the karaginu was originally labelled “tarp” in the script as a placeholder until I decided what it would be), and the biggest pagination change was probably moving Raizen’s “Maybe you just didn’t take enough off lol!” to the previous page so that Hokushin’s (literal) punchline would be at the beginning of the next.

Expressions

I have a huuuuge soft spot for subtle expressions - the kind where just a bit of extra line or texture around the eyes or the mouth, plus the dialogue or context of the scene, adds nuance to an expression. Especially ones that otherwise can read as relatively neutral. Even a very simple expression that’s just dots for eyes and straight lines for the upper/lower lids and eyebrows can have a lot of variation in how you interpret them, simply based on context and slight adjustments. Here are some examples with Raizen, where his face is super basic:

A: pretending nothing is wrong, calmly answering question

B: pleased with self for being smart - clearly a happer expression than A

C: similar to A, chillaxing and answering question

D: no big smiling mouth so he looks more like he’s focused on intensely sniffing the air

E: same as B basically, but a bigger smile of “everything’s fine!” (when you read the text)

F: extra thickness for his upper lid gives the sense that he’s in the middle of his casual sexy/chivalrous how ya doin’ expression

G: ... which changes in this panel to be more a realization (“oh shit I’m on fire”)

Actually, Raizen and Hokushin are both pretty difficult face types for me, being more “mature” looking male faces with stronger features/jawlines and narrower eyes. Hokushin especially has been challenging because his design has really low eyebrows which result in a default glare. Togashi still manages to make him fairly expressive and not look like he's glowering all the time. With my more limited art skill and lack of confidence, I tend to soften his expressions by really laying on the top line of his eye (this sounds like I'm putting mascara on him or something lmao), and also adjusting the size of his pupils (within reason or it starts to look even less like how I draw him normally, which is a big problem since his shaved head is a defining aspect of his series character design so he already looks pretty different). Here are some comparisons of his face - bearing in mind I had to keep his eyes wide open because of the seals in the story:   

A: crying/relief

B: this one here is supposed to be a bit miserable/self-loathing because he really didn’t think Raizen was going to look for him

C: shock, unexpected

D: thinking + “ugh plan B”

E: worried/apologetic and then “OOF/URK”

F and G: a progression to show the differences in rendering the eye. First is a bit angry because he’s realizing where all the blood for the seals came from, then he notices Raizen’s hands, and G is that example of softened expression (more lines on the top eye, larger pupil) to show how bad he feels about Raizen’s injury. 

One last thought on expressions. They can easily lose their nuance when inking (the slightest shift to a line can change the expression completely), and especially for someone like me who has unsteady hands it can be a bit of a nightmare. The nice thing about ballpoints is that they can retain a bit of the pencil sketch quality, which helped me freak out less when inking the last page with Hokushin’s glare. Here’s a comparison of the progress:

Though this particular expression isn’t that subtle, you can still see some differences as the drawing gets built up. When the pencil lines are gone and the drawing gets rendered in bw only, a lot of shading is lost. The messy lines can be interpreted more flexibly by your brain since they’re less defined and you haven’t “committed”, so the final version looks and feels less expressive. (This is why a lot of artists prefer their sketches to the finished piece, myself included...) Characterization This will get very specific to this comic, obviously, but hopefully my approach (and biases haha) will come through. With something like a fancomic, there are obviously existing expectations around the characters, but the benefit of working with these guys is that they’re not as prominent in the story or the fandom, so I feel more comfortable playing around and filling in the gaps. (This is probably why I like minor characters so much.)

In the case of Raizen and Hokushin, we know these two have a close relationship and history only through assumption and insinuation. We never see them interacting directly in the series at all. Actually, we don't see Raizen interact with anyone except Yusuke in non-flashback sequences (aside from the kudakusushi. In the anime, more scenes were added with his estranged friends, mostly their fond memories of him beating them up lmao). But it's very clear that they're extremely important to each other. Hokushin obviously speaks of his king in an exceedingly respectful fashion. Meanwhile, Hokushin is actually the last name Raizen says before he dies - his second last line, to Yusuke, is "Take care of Hokushin and the others" - or in my Taiwanese edition, "I leave Hokushin and the others to you". (Lol “the others”. Also I need to draw a comic about this at some point.) Despite this zero actual interaction, it's still extremely easy to imagine it because their characters are so clearly defined. In fact, they're both such consistent archetypes with enough particular quirks that they practically write themselves. So it wasn't difficult to extrapolate and imagine much younger versions of them, and how they may have interacted if they had only just met, which is the foundation of North Bound. Archetypes and stereotypes walk a fine line together, but they do serve as really useful building blocks for sketching characters quickly. This is why I really enjoy symbolic systems like astrology (or some of the the modern incarnations - personality assessment frameworks) because of all the character sketching it helps you do really quickly. Astrology in particular because, without even caring about birth dates or charts or whether astrology is "real" or not, the basic idea of a sign and its bucket of traits and symbols is simply a great resource when you want fleshed out character archetypes to build off of. I talked a bit about this in my Lenormand post, but I think of zodiac signs as one of the many games humans have developed in our attempts to categorize our world into recognizable patterns, and since we've been at it for thousands of years, there's a wealth of reference material, scenarios, analyses not only of the individual archetypes, but for all sorts of combinations and relationships. Some of it very well-thought out, and some of it just lots of fun to read. For my purposes, applying this to North Bound, Raizen is basically a Leo. He's dramatic, positive, powerful, passionate, a straight-shooter. Not only does he embody its main traits, he's literally a king (or eventually one in this story, I guess). And he even has a mane, for crying out loud. Meanwhile, Hokushin is a solid depiction of a quintessential Virgo - hardworking, practical, analytical, stoic, kind - and literally the loyal servant that typifies the Virgo paradigm. The Leo/Virgo duo is a classic partnership, and at the point where we meet them in the series, the relationship we can see has stabilized to exactly that. At the same time, there's tons of potential for a hilarious dynamic as well, especially imagining how they got to that point. (If you wanna have a laugh, look up some analyses of Leo and Virgo relationships and you'll see what I mean.) His freakouts next to Raizen's "hahhaa everything's fine!" carry most of the humour (similar to how his freakout at Yusuke's vandalism of the rurimaru stones carried a ton of the humour in that episode lol). Obviously there are other things that further finetune their characters so that they're more than bland cookie cutter personalities (Raizen's deep thinking about the future of the Demon World, for example, and Hokushin's sense of humour and appreciation/enjoyment of fighting), but in broad brushstrokes, these archetypes work incredibly well, and make it so easy to come up with scenarios and write interaction to the point that I'm now ridiculously behind in actually turning them into comics ahhhhh...

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

“Yep,” said Crucis, “that sure is Opal.”

Emir stared hard at his open palms. His hands were trembling; the shock of what had transpired was beginning to sink in, and even after several cups of what Crucis had crudely referred to as “liquid courage,” he still could not seem to settle in his seat. Every other moment, he stood, took a few paces to and fro, then sat again to contemplate.

He was infected with Opal, and none of them had any idea how it had happened.

“Is there no cure for this ailment?” Light inquired, bobbing restlessly at Emir’s side. “Surely, having studied its mechanisms, you must know of some way to rid the lad of it!”

“I don’t even know how he got it in the first place,” Crucis replied. He sat back in his chair to examine Emir from afar, arms crossed bemusedly over his chest. “It looks like normal Opal, and it appears to be behaving like it too. Emir, what element does the magic you use align with? Is it unaligned?”

“Y-yes,” Emir stammered, snapping to attention, “uh, yes, it’s unaligned.”

“Then you’re a misaligned magic-worker,” Crucis said, and nodded understandingly. Emir wished he could peer into the Arcanite’s mind just then, because he didn’t understand a damned thing. “My colleagues and I had theorized that Opal may have other triggers for manifestation, but at the time, there didn’t appear to be any support for it. There are plenty of misaligned magic-workers in Sornieth, some of them masters of their respective branches, and none of them have Opal. Seaglass, you’re a prime example.”

“But it’s possible,” Seaglass pressed, “isn’t it?”

“Theoretically,” Crucis reiterated, “yes, it’s possible. From what you’ve told me, it even seems probable. The Opal appeared after he expended a massive amount of magic; that could have been the trigger.”

“I’ve done it before, though,” Emir mumbled, and pulled his hood more tightly around his masked face in shame. “If magic was the trigger, it should have manifested at the Aerie.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point,” Crucis conceded. He leaned forward and took Emir’s hand, tracing one of the facets of cornflower-colored Opal with his finger. “Seaglass, you mentioned that, for a moment, he was in full control of himself.”

“Yeah,” Seaglass said, “it was only a second, but, yeah, he was.”

“Whereas before, at the Aerie, you weren’t.”

Emir looked up sharply. “You think mastering my magic was the trigger?”

“It’s not your magic, if I recall,” Crucis said, “it’s your sister’s. You mastered another being’s magic; you, in essence, became perfectly aligned with it. That was the trigger.”

“Of all the cruel ironies!” Light exclaimed. “You cannot truly believe this! The boy has fought tirelessly to master himself; this is simply outrageous!”

“It’s...” Emir clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. “It’s ok, Light,” he said, “I’m fine with it.”

“Emir...”

“Is it dangerous?” Emir asked. “Will it hurt me, or--or anyone else?”

“It doesn’t appear to be a destructive strain,” Crucis replied, and Emir, Light, and Seaglass each gave a relieved sigh. “If I had to guess, it’s either a catalytic strain or an expulsive strain.”

“In plain draconic, please,” Seaglass requested.

“It means it might act as a catalyst for my sister’s magic,” Emir explained, “or like Jorah’s, which helps him regulate his magical intake and output.”

“This is fascinating,” Crucis murmured. He reached for the magnifier in the small medical tray to his left and held it over the facet he’d traced earlier. It was still sparking just slightly with magic. “This changes everything. I’ll need to call a meeting; the clan’s other magical theorists will want to see you, Emir.”

Emir shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure--”

“You’ll be helping us to better understand a dangerous magical malady,” Crucis pressed on. “We’ve never had an opportunity to study such an important phenomenon.”

“That’s enough.” Seaglass reached out to pluck the magnifier from Crucis’ grip. Emir noted that he was wearing a rare frown. “He’s been through a lot,” he said, “so you can wait a bit before turnin’ ‘im into one of your guinea pigs, Crucis.”

“This is important,” Crucis stated again.

“Emir is important,” Seaglass replied.

The two stared one another down, and Emir sank lower in his seat. He felt like a child watching his mother and father argue. Seaglass’ aura flared; Crucis’ fingers twitched with agitation; Light’s pages turned uneasily.

Then, finally, Crucis relented. “All right,” he said, “I can’t make him submit to observation. Just write down anything interesting that happens, Emir. You’re a bit of a magical theorist yourself; perhaps you can record your own experiences.”

“I-I will,” Emir promised. “Thank you for, uh, for seeing me.”

“Opal’s my specialty,” Crucis replied, with an added, “apparently,” under his breath. “Come back if you change your mind, or if you run into anything you can’t handle.”

“Thanks, Cru,” Seaglass said. “No hard feelings?”

“I couldn’t be bothered to hold a grudge even if I wanted to,” Crucis assured. “Never call me Cru again, and we’ll call it even.”

The trio walked in silence back to the beach. The sun had long since set beyond the horizon, but the sand was still warm, and so Emir took off his shoes again to revel in the sensation. There was a hot breeze coming in off the sea; spring would be arriving soon.

“Thank you,” he said, “for standing up for me.”

Seaglass smiled, and placed a hand atop his pupil’s head. “You’re like a little brother to me,” he replied. “‘Course I’m gonna stand up for ya. Crucis ain’t a bad bloke; he’s just too enthusiastic about his studies sometimes. Hope ya won’t think ill of ‘im.”

“I don’t,” Emir insisted. “I think he’s brilliant, actually.”

“I think he needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut,” Light grumbled. Emir and Seaglass laughed, but Light did not share in their amusement. “Emir,” he said sternly, “are you truly content? You’ve worked so hard...”

Emir thought for a long moment, turning the question over and over in his mind. Then he gave a decisive nod. “It’s a small price to pay,” he replied, “for a chance at mastering myself. Besides, it might even help me, make me stronger. We’ll need all the strength we can get if we’re going to find our friends.”

“Cor,” Seaglass said, “I wish Jìng could’ve met you. He would’ve told ya that you’re just like I was when I was young.” He pulled Emir to his side, squeezing his shoulders bracingly. “You’re gonna move mountains, Emir. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“I won’t.”

“We’re gonna find your friends.”

“I know.”

They stood together for a long while, watching as the sky became awash with stars, and only returned to the village once the sand had lost its warmth.

[strifescloud]

from the beat of my heart (to the tips of my fingers) queerplatonic noctis/ignis/prompto/gladio 4.5k words

He can hear the others join them around the fire, taking their usual seats as though it were just another night. It feels normal, feels like them, but even just knowing that they have taken the first steps to being more is enough to fill Noctis with joy, and he finds that he cannot keep the smile from his face.

[or, how Noctis learned to talk about his feelings and the boys all got three partners in the process]

(read on ao3)

Noctis cannot sleep.

Streams of moonlight filter in through the half-closed curtains, dimly illuminating the interior of their run-down motel room, so when he reaches resignedly for his phone he winces not from the harsh backlight but from the time that blinks cheerily at him from the screen.

It’s three in the damn morning, and Noctis still cannot sleep, though not for lack of trying. They had been run ragged the whole day, tracking some nuisance of a beast across the harsh landscapes of the more remote regions of Leide, and Noctis had been so very certain that, as usual, he would have fallen asleep the second his head touched the pillows.

He can hear Prompto shuffling about restlessly in his sleep, energetic even at rest, and can just make out the silhouette of Ignis’s sleeping figure across the room. He spends another moment to wish that he could have fallen asleep as easily as they seemed to. He can’t hear Gladio, which was unusual, but his affinity for the outdoors was their main guiding force on the previous day’s hunt and Noctis wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply too deep in sleep to even snore.

No point lying here moping about it, he thinks wryly, sitting upright with a resigned sigh. The night air is just cool enough to make him grab his jacket as he slides out of bed, and he quietly puts it on before slipping out onto the tiny balcony. He leans on the railing and watches the night sky, the stars beautifully clear this far from Insomnia.

There is about a minute of quiet stillness before Gladio leans on the railing next to him.

“Rough day, huh?” Silence stretches further between them, Noctis’ eyes fixed on the sky above. “Thought you’d be dead asleep by now.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Hard to sleep with you tossin’ and turnin’ all night. What’s up?”

Noctis doesn’t turn his head, caught somewhere between unable and unwilling to answer despite the vague reassurances that seek to claw their way out of his throat. To dismiss his sleepless nights as inconsequential would be a lie, and he cannot bring himself to do so under the judging gaze of the stars.

“Hey,” Gladio nudges him with his elbow, bringing him out of his thoughts again, “seriously, what’s eating you?”

He could easily pull away from the touch, play off the concern as unwarranted, but even as he opens his mouth to speak his body stays still, eyes flitting upwards to Gladio’s face.

“Nothing,” he replies immediately, but stumbles over the reflexive answer when Gladio’s stare sharpens almost imperceptibly, “I mean, uh, I don’t-“

“Noct.”

“I don’t know, everything, I guess.” Gladio nods, leaning closer still, the warmth of his arm against Noctis’ a comfort against the cool night air.

“Pretty big difference between nothing and everything,” he prompts, but he turns his gaze away, watching a lone car slowly pass through the quiet outpost. Giving me a way out, Noctis thinks, affection rising in his chest even as he considers taking the opportunity.

“Yeah,” he breathes instead, hands tightening around each other.

He wants to talk, is the thing. Gladio is ever the King’s Shield in more ways than one, and his presence almost makes Noctis feel strong enough to voice his fears, if only he knew how. He opens his mouth, feels himself choke on the words, the weight of his anxieties too heavy for them to escape his chest.

“I don’t- it’s so much,” he tries, and Gladio’s eyes dart back to his with a flash of understanding.

“You don’t have to talk about it now. Or ever, if you want,” and though Noctis moves again to protest Gladio continues, “but if you do, just let me know. Or Iggy, or Prompto – all three of us are here for you, Noct. Whatever you want.”

Noctis nods mutely as Gladio claps him firmly on the shoulder, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Get some sleep, okay, Prince? Can’t have you falling asleep in a fight or something – it’s hard work bailing your ass out.”

“Bailing me out?” Noctis replies indignantly, an answering grin forming as Gladio steps away, “Who saved your ass from those Shieldshears yesterday?”

Gladio laughs again as he slips back inside the hotel room, leaving Noctis on the balcony alone, the warmth fading from his arm.

The thing is, Noctis doesn’t entirely know what he wants.

The though catches him between naps in the Regalia and he finds himself unable to let it go, turning it over again and again in his mind.

He wants to get to Altissia, to see Luna again, to take his revenge upon Nifleheim for the destruction of Insomnia – of this much, he remains certain.

He thinks of marrying Luna and his mind skitters away from the thought, all too aware of what the reality of marriage means for someone like him. He’s not a stranger to the idea of romance – countless people of all genders had tried their best to catch the eye of the crown prince of Lucis – but he’d never had any interest in reciprocating. Something about it had always seemed off, like inserting himself into the wrong role in a play where everyone but him knew the lines.

And yet, he thinks, and yet, because his thoughts skip back again and again - to Gladio’s arm against his, presence steady as a rock, to Ignis’s gentle touch as he awakens Noctis in the mornings, to Prompto’s hand pulling him up after a long battle – and though it’s not the same he wonders, always wonders, because his heart knows it feels more than friendship for the three men who have stayed by his side but it does not call them brother.

He wonders if there is a word for something that’s neither friendship nor romance, but somewhere undefinably between.

Noctis shifts slightly in his seat, keeping his eyes closed as he feigns sleep. The wind rushing past his ears as the Regalia accelerates drowns out most of the quiet conversation between Ignis and Prompto in the front, but the tone of indulgent amusement in Ignis’s voice is as familiar as breathing and he feels it soothe his turbulent thoughts even as the words remain indistinct.

He shifts again, moving his weight until he leans against Gladio’s shoulder, still pretending to be deep in sleep - part of him curious as to what Gladio will do. He hears the shuffling of paper as Gladio turns another page in his book, the shoulder beneath his cheek shifting, Gladio simply turning his body to make Noctis more comfortable without a word, and Noctis feels another swell of affection rise in his chest.

He feels safe in this moment, in the Regalia with the three men he cares for (loves, maybe, possibly) most in the world, and he allows himself to go back to sleep.

There is no awkwardness when he is shaken awake, sleep-fogged eyes making out glow of runes that mark a Haven, but the look Ignis gives him is far too knowing and Noctis feels heat rise to his cheeks nevertheless. The feeling fades as they set up camp, settling into a now-familiar routine, but he doesn’t miss the further glances Ignis sends across the campfire, nor Gladio whispering something into his ear as the looks grow lengthier with the darkening of the sky.

It’s not that he thinks they’ll outright say no if he asks him about it.

He still just doesn’t know what it is, and if he tries to explain it he’ll most likely make a fool out of himself, and there’s a persistent voice in the back of his mind that insists that to give them this, one more burden of his to bear, would be selfish.

It is louder at night, with the other three fast asleep beside him in the tent, unable to be drowned out by their voices. While he knows they do not only follow him out of duty, he cannot shake the feeling that to ask them this, as their Prince – to form some kind of relationship that he still cannot define with not just one, but all three of them – would be more than unfair.

He sleeps fitfully that night.

Noctis wakes to the sound of three familiar voices, the sunlight that streams through the tent just bright enough to make him wince as he opens his eyes. Though his limbs feel weighed down by his lack of restful sleep the smell of Ignis’s cooking is enough to drag him out of the tent, blinking his eyes blearily.

Ignis and Gladio stand over the portable stove, heads bent together as they talk, though both look up as Noctis emerges.

“Good morning, Noct.” Ignis greets with a small smile, turning back to his cooking. Gladio’s stare lingers slightly longer, but he too bends back towards Ignis, picking their conversation back up.

“Oh, Noct!” Prompto looks up from where he’d been taking pictures of the horizon, swinging his camera towards Noctis and snapping a photo before he had time to react.

“Hey!” Noctis scowls, reaching up immediately to try and fix his hair before Prompto had another chance.

“Morning! Oh man, you look like an angry bird, all puffed up like that,” Prompto teases, dancing out of the way as Noctis takes a half-hearted swipe towards the camera. Ignis wanders over from the stove, peering over Prompto’s shoulder at the camera screen.

“Indeed, it’s remarkable how little some things change with time.” Ignis adds, retreating from Noctis’s narrowing stare back towards the stove.

“I do not look like a bird,” he grumbles, dropping himself heavily in one of the camping chairs as he yawns. He stretches his legs out in front of him, nearly tripping Gladio as he takes his own seat.

“I don’t know, between you and Prompto-“ Gladio says, taking a bowl from Ignis’s hand.

“We could drop you at the Chocobo post if you’d like. Birds of a feather do flock together.” Ignis interjects, hiding his smirk by turning back towards the stove.

Noctis hears Prompto protest but tunes out the words, overwhelmed by the feeling that he is being ridiculous. He is not a Prince here, surrounded by subjects – merely a man among equals, the closest companions he could ever ask for, and he should be able to tell them anything, right?

Yet uncertainty stays his tongue, the thought of discussing his own turbulent feelings too heavy for the light-heartedness of the morning, and he feels the façade of control he has worn for years slip around his shoulders almost against his will. He holds it close for the rest of the day, uses it to shield him from their concerns like a shroud, slipping into normalcy as though he has never left. He cloaks himself in it each morning after that just as he pulls on his jacket, falling into step with the other three with nothing amiss.

It is easier during the day, when the anxious whispers in his mind can be drowned out by the voices of his companions. At night, when the only sound in the tent is the rhythm of breath in the cold air, his fears come crawling back as if they had never been silenced. He imagines their bitter clamouring to be the cause of the ringing in his ears, though he knows it is merely the effect of silence when his days are filled with vibrant noise and chatter.

He imagines, sometimes, that he can feel the phantom sensation of a crown around his temples.

Noctis, curled in the corner of the tent with his back to the wall, wishes in that instant that he was brave enough to cross the scant inches that divide him and Ignis, to seek the kind of comfort he thinks might quiet his mind enough to sleep. More so, he wishes one of them would suddenly wake, that they would understand what he fears without Noctis having to give it the weight of his voice.

Neither comes to pass. He closes his eyes, listens to them breathe, and does not sleep.

It is in a muggy motel room in Old Lestallum that something, finally, breaks.

Noctis stretches out on the rickety hotel bed, hearing the springs creak under his weight as he stares blankly at the ceiling, watching the fan slowly rotate. Ignis and Gladio are out buying supplies so the only sound is the faint music from Prompto’s phone, the familiar noises of King’s Knight an oddly soothing backdrop to his whirling thoughts.

“Hey, Noct,” Prompto begins, startling Noctis out of his introspection, “can I talk to you about something?”

Noctis tilts his head slightly, not enough to see Prompto’s face but enough to see his fingers curled so tightly around each other that the flesh is white beneath the pressure. Prompto’s phone lies discarded on the bed, pause screen blinking idly, and the whirring of the fan motor above them abruptly seems too loud in his ears.

“Sure, what’s up?” Noctis tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, but doesn’t move.

“Well I mean, what’s up with you?” Noctis blinks slowly, unresponsive, “This whole thing is…beyond hard for you, I know that, but lately it seems like you’ve got something on your mind – and I know I’m not like, royal advisor or anything like the others, but,” He can hear Prompto take a steadying breath, “if you just wanna talk about it, I can do that. Listen. If you want.”

If the slight quaver in Prompto’s voice wasn’t enough, the sincerity that shines bright as the sun brings a hollow ache to Noctis’s chest – by the Astrals, he loves him, even if he’s not sure how. He opens his mouth to speak, taking a deep breath but releasing it again almost immediately, at a loss as to where to begin.

The springs beneath him creak again as Prompto sits beside him, just out of his vision. He feels a flash of anxiety, keeps it in control only by reminding himself that Prompto came not out of duty, but by choice – here for Noctis, not the Crown.

“Noct.” He says solemnly, and it breaks.

Words spill forth from Noctis’s mouth almost faster than he can process them. He talks first about Insomnia, about his father and Clarus and everyone else they knew whose deaths have yet to sink in. He talks about how sometimes he wakes up and doesn’t remember what happened and it’s like tearing the wound open all over again when he realizes. Prompto remains silent through it all, and Noctis continues.

He talks about Luna, how he’s not sure he even wants to marry her but there’s no turning back now – that he’s never loved anyone the way he’s meant to, and she will likely be no different.

Finally, he talks about the four of them. He says they might be more than friends if they gave it a chance, but not lovers, screwing up his face at the word and hearing Prompto laugh near-silently at the expression. There’s a feeling he cannot describe - he doesn’t know what it is, but it’s both enough and more than he could have asked for, sometimes more than he thinks he deserves.

He tells him how much he worries, sometimes, that they see him as the Crown Prince before Noctis. The shadow cast by the throne looms over him and he feels the fear choking him at night until he can’t breathe, can’t bring himself to ever ask.

He runs out of words. Prompto remains silent for a long moment.

“That’s good,” Prompto says, and Noctis feels his chest seize in confusion and anxiety, mouth dry.

“Good?” He asks cautiously.

“I thought I was the only one who felt that way.”

The statement is so unexpected that Noctis has to turn, twisting around to look Prompto in the eyes. Prompto’s expression is one of unbridled affection as he reaches out, taking Noctis’s hand in his own and squeezing tightly.

“This is okay, right?” He asks quietly, eyes searching Noctis’s face for any sign of discomfort.

“Yeah,” Noctis replies, feeling a smile form as a weight lifts off his shoulders, “more than okay.”

“Good, that’s good, we can uh,” Prompto’s voice quavers again but it’s with an edge of giddiness rather than nerves, so Noctis lets it pass without comment, “we can talk about what we’re okay with, right? So if I do something and you’re uncomfortable with it, just say so and we can figure it out! And I’ll do the same if I’m not cool with something.”

“What does that make us, then?” It’s not a relationship yet, but Noctis’s heart is racing ahead of him, urged onwards by the warmth of Prompto’s hand around his own.

“Partners, I guess. Or if you want to call us something different, or not call it something at all, that’s cool too. New stuff always needs some figuring out.”

“What about partners in crime?”

“You got it!” Prompto’s laugh is infectious, warming Noctis down to his bones, chasing away the shadows creeping at the corners of his mind.

His anxieties come rushing back when Prompto suddenly sobers, looking him in the eye once again.

“Are you gonna talk to Ignis and Gladio?”

Noctis swallows, turning his gaze downwards.

“I know it…it’s big, man. It’s big, and it’s scary and you think it’s gonna ruin everything, and it terrifies me too ‘cause,” Prompto swallows, face remaining solemn, “I guess, if you can’t even be sure, what chance do I have?” Noctis sits up at that, desperate to offer reassurance because he knows these fears Prompto carries, remembers a cold night on a darkened hotel roof.

“But,” Prompto continues before Noctis can interject, “I… I think you should! I mean, eventually, you have to have that conversation, right? And even though it’s terrifying as shit, I can talk to them first if you want. For me as well as you, but you’d have to talk to them yourself afterwards.”

It’s a tempting offer, and Noctis finds himself nodding minutely before he’s even thought it through.

“What do you think?” It’s a loaded question, but Noctis needs to know.

“I think they’re amazing – just like you are.” It catches Noctis off guard, lifting his darkened mood once again as his smile returns to match the one on Prompto’s face. “And the way I see it, I thought I was the only one, right? I bet they both think that as well, and they’re not gonna say anything either unless one of us does first.”

It’s optimistic, Noctis thinks, but he wants to believe so badly that the world could be as perfect as the picture Prompto’s words are painting.

“Give me a few days to think about it, okay?” He says finally, both unwilling and unable to say no but far from brave enough to agree. It still brightens Prompto’s smile, their hands locked around each other, and Noctis feels another piece of his resistance crumble away.

If the other two notice their newfound closeness, it is never mentioned. They spend the next few days out on the road chasing hunts, only managing to collapse into a hotel bed once or twice due to an influx of nocturnal threats. Noctis snatches moments with Prompto where he can, though the larger conversation that looms in their future will take more time than they have between hunts.

Though their days are long and his limbs ache from the exertion, the feeling fades every time he catches Prompto’s hand in his own, sharing a commiserating look as they trek through the harsh landscapes, a swell of true happiness within his chest.

It is incomplete without the others, he knows – his resolve strengthens with every day, and he can see the same feeling reflected in Prompto’s eyes.

Even so, when there is finally a night where they can truly rest, camped out under the stars, he’s not sure he’s ready. He meets Prompto’s gaze while the others are distracted, sees the thread of steel within them as Prompto gives him a nod. He watches the blonde hair as it walks purposefully across the camp but does not follow, choosing instead to slip down the hillside, path illuminated by the setting sun.

He finds a small jetty that juts out from the side of a nearby lake, the water’s peaceful surface broken only by the darting of the fish that swim just beneath. He casts his fishing line out into the water, trying to clear his head, and waits.

It is at least an hour before he hears the sound of branches cracking under boots.

“Hey, Gladio.” He says, still staring out to the lake.

“Hey.” Gladio replies, footsteps coming to a halt.

Noctis lets the silence stretch between them, though he reels in his line, dismissing his rod into a shimmer of blue light. They are building towards something, but it will be up to Gladio to make the final step – if Noctis pushes too hard, it may break.

“Prompto came and talked to us. Said it was for you as well, but I’d rather hear it straight from you.”

Noctis makes a noncommittal noise in response, but when Gladio doesn’t continue he turns, not quite towards him but no longer facing the still water.

“Everything he said was…yeah. I, uh,” he swallows, fingers trembling slightly, “I feel the same way.” He finishes the sentence in a rush, words half mumbled, though Gladio seems to hear them nevertheless.

He can feel Gladio’s eyes resting heavily on him.

“And you were afraid.” Gladio says, tone neutral. Noctis lets out a nervous laugh.

“And I was afraid.” He agrees.

Gladio’s footsteps grow closer, coming to a halt just in front of him. He feels Gladio’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, thumb moving soothingly back and forth on his upper arm and still Noctis doesn’t look up, hand clenching into a fist.

“Everything I say carries the weight of the Crown.” He repeats his father’s old adage dully, as if by rote. “How could I…how could I ask you that, as your prince, and know without doubt that your answer wasn’t influenced by your duty?”

He looks up at last as he releases the tension in his hand, bringing it up to cradle Gladio’s face and tracing his thumb across the scar that travels down his cheek, remembering all too vividly how it was gained.

“You already do so much for me, I don’t-“ He hesitates, unsure of how to continue but not taking his eyes away.

“This isn’t something I’d do for you,” Gladio interrupts, his own hand grasping Noctis’s and taking it away from his face, keeping it still between them, “it’s something I want to share with you. And Ignis, and Prompto – we can make this work. We can.” His conviction is near-tangible, as solid as the shield he wields, and Noctis finds himself stepping closer, his own will strengthened by it.

“Okay,” he whispers, “okay. We can.”

Gladio reaches out and pulls him into an embrace, wrapping warm arms around his shoulders just as Noctis’s wind around his waist, and there they stay for a long, perfect moment.

There’s so much more for them to talk about but he lets himself be led, hand still joined with Gladio’s back through the darkening forest to their camp. Prompto is nowhere to be seen and he feels Gladio push him forward, towards where Ignis sits alone by the fire.

“Iggy and I have already talked. I think it’s your turn.” Gladio murmurs as he backs away, presumably towards the tent. Noctis continues forward, slumping in the chair to Ignis’s right with a slight sigh.

“I presume you’ve sorted things out then.” Ignis says in lieu of a greeting, taking a long sip of his drink, and though his tone is impartial Noctis winces internally. He has known Ignis the longest of all of them. It seems wrong in many ways for him to have this conversation last, and he wonders if Ignis is hurt by his inaction.

“I’m sorry, Ignis, I-“

“Ah, forgive me,” Ignis interrupts, tone still even, “perhaps I phrased that improperly – I had been wondering for a few weeks if you were gathering the courage to speak up, and it seems that you finally have.” He sets his drink to the side, folding his hands in his lap.

“A few- wh- you knew?”

“Of course I did.” Ignis’s smile is faint but genuine as he looks up at Noctis, eyes sparking with subtle amusement. “Gladio and I have been discussing it for a while now – since before you ever talked to Prompto, I’d wager. I thought, given your propensity for forgetting that our relationship with you takes priority over our duty to the Crown, that it would be best to leave you to figure it out on your own.”

Ignis lays it all out for him, just like that, and Noctis finds himself staring wordlessly in mild disbelief. Ignis’s smile widens, expression inexpressibly fond as he reaches out to cup Noctis’s face.

“You foolish, wonderful man,” Ignis says quietly, “as if I’d say anything except yes.”

He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Noctis’s forehead, the gesture so tender that it brings an ache to his chest, and as he pulls backwards Noctis finds himself leaning forward to chase the feeling. He gathers Ignis’s gloved hands up in his own, running his thumb across the back of the knuckles gently as he talks.

“Maybe it’s silly to ask this now, but,” Noctis tries to mask the quaver in his voice, though judging by Ignis’s face he doesn’t completely succeed, “you don’t think I’m being selfish, do you?”

“I don’t think it’s selfish to love others, nor to accept that love in return.” Ignis replies, voice still quiet. “Nor is it selfish for the four of us to be together, in whatever way we are comfortable with, so long as we are forthcoming with each other.” He gives Noctis’s hands a tight squeeze at that, though it is a gesture made in good humour, and Noctis feels the final weight lift from his shoulders.

He can hear the others join them around the fire, taking their usual seats as though it were just another night. It feels normal, feels like them, but even the simple act of knowing that they have taken the first steps to being more is enough to fill Noctis with joy, and he finds that he cannot keep the smile from his face.

They fall into the tent that night in a pile of limbs – Prompto somewhere under one of Gladio’s arms with Noctis under the other, Ignis pressed against his back – and though he knows that they will be far too warm in this weather he doesn’t offer a word of protest.

He lies there, listening to them breathe, and thinks I love them, I love them, the thought overwhelming him until he voices it aloud.

He feels a hand find his in the dark (Prompto’s, he thinks), hears Gladio rumble ‘we love you too’ from just above his head, nearly drowning out Ignis’s exasperated ‘go to sleep, Noct’.

It’s perfect.

Noctis closes his eyes and sleeps.

[clarkfamily]

A Bad Boy’s Diary - Chapter 1

CHAPTER I.

HOW HE BEGAN IT.

I Was ate years ole yesterday, an' mamma she says to me:

"George, wot would you like for a burthday present?"

So I said a "diry", cause all my growed-up sisters keep a diry, an' I thought it would be about the figger.  So mamma she got me one.  I wanted to begin it all rite, so I stole up to Lily's room to copy suthin out o' hern;  but she keeps it locked up in her writing-desk, an' I had a offal time getting a key that would fit.  At last I found one, an' set down when Lil was out a calling an' coppied oph a page good as I could.

I've got three sisters what all kepes their dirys an' writes into 'em every night after their hair is took oph an' put in the buro drawer, 'xcept what is put in crimps.  So to-nite Mister Wilyem Smith he comes to see Lil, like he does most every evening, a big, ugly ole bashlor that my sisters makes fun of behind his back, an' I was in the parlor with my diry in hand an' he ast me wot I got, an' give me some candy, an' I showed him my diry, an' he red this out loud to Lil and Bess, which was in the room all fixed up to fits:

"I wish that stupid ole Bill Smith would keep himself to home.  He came agen Sunday night.  I never, never, never shall like him one bit, but mother says he's wrich an' I must accept him if he offers.  Oh, how cruwel it is to make me practis such dooplicity!  It seems as if my heart would brake.  What awful grate big red hands he's got an' can't talk about nothin' but how many houses he owns, an' his cravats is in retched taste.  I wish he'd stay away an' done with it.  He tride to kiss me wen he was goin' Sunday night, but I'd just as soon have a lobster kiss me.  Oh! he is so different from my sweet, sweet Montague De Jones.  Wot a pity Montague is a poor clerk!  I can not bare this misery much longer.  Montague is jellus an' reproaches me biterly.  Oh, wot a fraud this life is!  I'm wery of it."

Lil was a screechin' an' a tryin' to snatch it all the time, but Mr. Smith he held it up high, an' red it all;  then he sed to me wot made you rite such stuff?  I sed it wan't stuff -- I got it out of my sister Lil's diry, an' I gess she knew enuff to keep one, an' he took his hat an' went and Bess sez to me:

"Now you've done it, George Hackett!"

Lil mad a grab at me, but I dodged an' run.

I never see such a boy as I am fur gettin' into scrapes.  The hull family is down on me, an' say I've spiled the match an' lost 'em a hundred thousand dollars, but I can't see how I am to blame for jest takin' a few lines out of Lily's diry.

One thing is sure -- the rest o' this book will be my own composishun good or bad.  I'm disgusted with the fool-stuff in them girls' dirys.

There was such a row to home 'bout it to-day I didn't seem to want my dinner, so I went fishing.  It wasn't cloudy, so they wouldn't bite.  A man come along an' he sez:

"Got any bites, sonny?"

I wish folks wouldn't call me sonny -- it makes me mad;  so I hollered:

"Confound the fish!"

And he sez:

"Wot a wicked boy!"

And I sez:

"Not a tall, the fish is in the dam."

And he scratched his head and went on.  Just then suthin' bit, an' I leaned over too far an' fell in.  You oughter seen me go right over the wheel, but it w'n't until I got into the shute that I thought I guess they'd be sorry, now they'd never have Georgie to scold no more.  I don't know what I thunk wen they got me out, coz I was drowned dead as a door-nale;  but they roled me on a barel, an' blowed into my inside with a bellows, an' I come to an' ast 'em if they'd saved my fishpole.

I don't know wot made mama cry when they brougtht me home, coz I was all right then, an' I told her so.  I was awful glad I fell in, coz they got over bein' mad at me.  Lil made me some real good toaste an' tea, an' 'bout dark they all went down to supper an' left me rapped up in blankets that I thought I should smother, so I got up an' put on my best sute -- my other one was gettin' dry.  I betted they'd scold me for gettin' up, an' I crawled down into the parlor, an' got behind the curtains of the bay winder.  I was that tired I fell asleep, an' wen I woken up I heard voices, an' I made out 'twas Susan an' her bow a settin' together on the sofy.  Bess she was ratling away at the peano t'other end o' the room.  Lil was upstairs, 'cause she knew Mr. Wilyem Smith wouldn't come no more.

"We'll haf to wate", says he, "at leste a year.  Old Docktor Bradley wants a younger man to do the ridin', an' he's promised to take me in as a pardner this fall.  Can you wate for me, my darlin'?  You'll haf to haf lots of pashunts," sez he.

"An' so will you," says Sue, and then they laughed.

"We'll better kepe it a profound secret for the present," sez he.

"Yes," sez she, "of course.  It's the best policy to kepe long engadgements secret, suthin' mite happen, you know."

And then she jumped up as if she was shot, an' run acrost the room, an' set down in a chair jist in time, for some folks come in, and then some more.  Everybody wanted to know how poor little georgie was, an' then mama came in an' said I'd run away -- she was awful 'fraid I was dellerius out of my head, my brane might be effected.  So I jest gave them curtains a whop, an' fumped right out as if I was a playin' leap-frog, an' the way they hollered would a made you laught.

"Oh, Georgie, Georgie!" groaned poor mama, "you'll be the deth of me, I know you will."

"Were you in the bay-winder all the time?" ast Sue, a turnin' red an' pale.

"You bet," sez I, an' then I wunk at her an' wunk at him.  "I knowed honesty was the best pollicy," I begun:  "but wot makes it the best pollicy not to let on when your engaged, lik you was talkin' about?"  Then Sue she yerked me out o' the room, an jis' as we got to the door I hollered:  "Let go my arm!  I'll go without bein' grabbed.  Say, Sue, I wonder wot made you hop off the sofy when those folks rung the bell!  Did Docktor Moore --"

But she put her hand right over my mouth and slammed the door.

"I have as good a mind as ever I had to eat to whip you, Georgie!" she sez, beginning to cry.  "You have let the cat out of the bag, you horid, horid boy!"

"Wot cat?" ast I.

"Docktor Moore will never forgive you," sobbin' as if she'd dropped her only stick o' candy in the well.  "We didn't want a sole to dreme of it for the next six months."

"Ime sorry I did it, sis," sez I, "I'll never do it agane if you'll stop blubberin'.  What did I do, anyhow?  If I'd a knowed he was so easy fritened I wouldn't a jumped out so sudden for the world.  I wouldn't marry a feller wots so 'fraid o' things.  He might get scart into a fit some time if he saw a white sheet on the closeline in the night.  I don't belive in gosts, do you?"

By that mamma she came an' took me up to bed agane, an' tole Betty, the chamber-made, to stay by me ti'l I fell aslepe, an' I got Betty to write this in my diry for me, cause I felt so tired and sleepy.  Betty's bow's got red hair and a crost eye.  I peked through the ary winder onest, and seen him kepe one eye on the cook -- that's ill-tempered as she can be -- an' one on Betty, an' I wished I had crost eyes, so I could keep one on my book, an' one on Tommy Fuller wen he puts pins in the schollars' seats.  Crost eyes would be the convinyuntest things fur boys that have to go to school.  Betty yawns like the top of her head would fall off.  So I must close.