#i still love my silly moots even when they rip my heart out

[ajokeformur-ray]

Spending Christmas Eve with Arthur & surprise kiss under mistletoe (headcanon) ☺️🎄

Implied smut at end.

I feel like this is really bad? IDK.

You had been planning your Christmas with Arthur for months.

Nothing and no one were going to stop you from spending the entire holiday with Arthur.

Not even you.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this for me.” 

Though he was speaking as quietly and as patiently as he usually does, you could tell by the hopeful glint in his eyes and the anxious way that he was toying with the cuffs of his beloved yellow hoodie that Arthur really did want to do all of these things with you.

“Yeah, I do, Arthur.” At his uncertain dart upwards with his eyes do you say, “I want to.”

Whatever your usual Christmas plans are, Arthur wants in on them all, no matter how silly or childish they seem.

When you tell him that you’re deciding to spend the holiday with him, though???

Poor boi loses his mind.

He laughs in disbelief, so hard that he ends up crying.

 He shakes his head, apologising as best as he can, but you just tug him into your arms and you hold him, your fingers stroking easily through his dark locks as you calm him.

His laughing fit only makes you even more sure of your decision. 

You want him to experience every possible tradition, food, activity, game, etc. about Christmas.

Whether you’re religious or not, he wants to do everything with you. All of it. 

Whether you think he’d enjoy it or not is a moot point, because he’s with you and so therefore he would enjoy it.

Arthur loves the music of the season!!!!

You woke up once in the night, not sure of what had woken you, but as you came to you realised that Arthur’s fingers were trailing up and down your arm, his fingers tapping out the beat to the last song which had played on the radio before bed.

You smiled, pulled him closer, and Arthur crooned some lyrics in your ear; his soft voice being just what you needed to lull you back into Morpheus’ embrace, though even a deity can’t protect you as well as Arthur can.

��Arthur, honey, what would you like for Christmas? Not what I want, not what we need for the apartment, what do you want?”

An edge of frustration crept into your voice. 

You had asked him this so many times and you heard his answer in your head before he even said it:

“I already have everything I want.” His intense stare and the happiness on his face says the next word for him, which settles like a blanket of snow between your bodies:

You.

Soon enough, it’s Christmas Eve and you’re really getting into the swing of things now.

You leave out some gingerbread biscuits and mince pies for Father Christmas and his reindeer (you both know nothing’s going to touch them but you want Arthur to get the full experience; he would have missed out on it all when he was a child).

You both go to bed, giddy as children, and your jaw aching with how wide you were smiling as you pulled him into your arms, sleep finding you both quite quickly.

The first thing you decide that you need to show Arthur in the morning, on the big day, was your personal favourite thing about Christmas:

Giving presents!

You hadn’t labelled any of the presents you had gotten him, you had only wrapped them. 

You had already given other people their presents, anyway.

With Arthur out in the living room tidying up the cups and plates and emptying out his ashtrays, it seemed convenient to reach under the bed and pull out all the presents you had gotten for him.

You had wrapped all of them as best as you could, putting so much effort into it that you had even impressed yourself, and now did you take them to the living room, your knees almost bowing under all the weight.

Arthur lingered in the doorway of the kitchen, his green eyes inquisitive.

“Y-Y/N, wh-what are you doing? Shouldn’t you have given those out before today?”

With a truly happy smile on your face did you look over at the absolute love of your life.

“I have.”

You saw that he still didn’t understand and, knowing that he would respond to your next words with painful laughter, did you say, “Arthur, honey, these are yours.”

Three, two, aaaaand - 

Painful laughter ripped forth from Arthur’s throat and you nodded solemnly, crossing the room to comfort him.

You held him tightly through the attack, stroking his dark hair and kissing his temple and you stayed.

When he was calm did you lead him to the gifts you had gotten him. 

You felt bad that you hadn’t gotten him more, but you had already spent too much money this month so it was the best you could do.

Arthur only ever deserved your best.

You got him: a new journal, a proper winter coat, the biggest multipack of cigarettes you could find (even if you disliked the vice, you wouldn’t deny him anything and so with a wrinkled nose had you bought them), more makeup for work (he had literally been scraping the bottom of the barrel this morning, a concerned frown on his face as he looked at the calendar - another two weeks until payday; he couldn’t go that long without Carnival), another clown wig, and - a bright red two piece suit.

To you, it wasn’t anything special and you felt guilty that you couldn’t give him more.

Arthur unwrapped every present slowly, his flat palms tracing over every gift which was cushioned in his bony lap as he undid the tape with spidery fingers. He folded the discarded paper and you knew it’d become pressed in the pages of his new journal as irrefutable proof of this night.

With reverence did Arthur look over everything you got him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his cheeks damp with overflowing love as he looked up at you like you were an angel.

His angel.

He told you as much before he kissed you deeply in thanks; his lips so fierce against your own that it made your toes curl in your socks.

Then, he crossed over to the tiny desk in the corner of the room and grabbed his battered brown journal and joke book, flicking to a certain page easily and holding it out to you.

“I couldn’t afford to get you a gift,” He mumbled, embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning the same delicate shade of pink as the one on his cheeks, “But I… here, Y/N.”

You took the journal, seeing Arthur struggling so completely for words made you deeply curious, and your eyes roamed over the page, a blush coming to your own face before you focused on the very first word and read it slowly, savouring the pages upon pages of scribbles, doodles and words; some crossed out, more misspelled and some written with care.

It was all about you - your favourite things were drawn around the corners of the pages, smiley faces and crooked love hearts dotted the pages and acted as punctuation, things you had said to him or done together, things he wanted to do with and to you…. pages upon pages… you counted eighteen before a sealed envelope fell out of the journal.

Quickly did Arthur scoop it up. “T-That’s the journal finished… I - I wanted to write you something, to give you something to open.”

Arthur moved all of his gifts over to the armchair which Penny used to sit in so that you could sit on the sofa, holding the envelope in your hands.

You were getting teary eyed just seeing your name written in Arthur’s writing, and with a slight shake to your hand did you break the seal, Arthur sitting beside you and taking your other hand.

With his other hand did he pull his trick out of his trousers pocket - a piece of mistletoe.

He had refrained from buying a pack of cigarettes in order to buy it fresh and he had kept it in his pocket all day, waiting for the perfect moment.

He watched you read his letter once, twice, three and then four times; your emotions playing out on your face like a film.

He watched as you teared up, smiled, gasped softly or squeezed his hand as you read the letter a fifth time.

“Arthur, I - you - I love you so fucking much”

“I know,” A quiet murmur of truth, “I love you too. You’re my everything.” 

Distracted sufficiently by his letter did Arthur reach his arm up to hold the mistletoe over your heads.

You followed his arm up, up, and smiled.

“You know what my favourite part of Christmas is?”

“What?” You smiled even wider, knowing where this was going.

“Following traditions.”

In a rare bout of confidence which channelled his future self did Arthur claim your lips with his and the rest of the day was spent in a blissful haze of love, lust and everything in between.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing        @vivft                  @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92  @that-s-life   @dopey-girl-blogs         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts       @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom              @anti-peach       @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck      @crazieroutthere      @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula@stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia    @rustyt33th     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff      @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp 

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

Part 17.

You can find part 16 here for a refresher but the rest of the story is under the fate and fortune tag.

Moots :3 @fyre23 @risottoneroo

Getting a bit darker for this one with some familial trauma, hospitals, morgues and needles and such. Very Vera centered- the boys will be back real soon though- like I might double post to keep the story moving soon.

Arriving at the hospital she only agreed to the blood transfusion- her blood pressure getting a few concerned eye widenings from the nurses. But if there was one place she hated being in, it was a hospital. Especially in the state she was in.

The transfusion had just finished and the nurse was coming in with a gown and a drip.

“No.” She practically sprung up, pressing into the little hole in her right arm with the cotton ball taped to it. “I’m not staying the night.”

“Ma’am, do I need to fetch your guardian?”

“Is that a threat?” Vera almost hissed at the disinterested little nurse. Lucky for her Avdol came into the room with just a bandage around his neck. She figured she had healed him quick enough to avoid anything serious.

“I know you hate it-“ Avdol started with palms facing her as he approached her.

“No Avdol, I’m not staying.”

“Your blood pressure was too low- we’re gonna need to keep you for observation.” The nurse turned to Avdol as she spoke the next part. “Can we offer a sedative to help ease her hysteria?”

Vera’s jaw dropped. “A sedative-? Why you!” She lunged straight into Avdol’s arm- not that it was her intention.

“Vera! As soon as you get the green light, I’ll take you away myself but we can’t risk it at this point! We’ve come too far.”

He sternly put her back down beside the hospital bed- her gaze avoiding his own intense golden one. She never could argue with him.

“Fine, but you can forget the gown.”

He smiled, folding his arms in front of his chest. “I’ll have Jotaro bring you an overnight bag in about half an hour, would that be more agreeable?”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” She sat back down on the bed to let the nurse jab the needle into her arm and leave her be for the night.

Jotaro had only swung by briefly with her overnight bag in hand.

He watched as she fed her connected arm through her tank top before taking the bag from the hook and feeding it through the same shirt.

“You move pretty well for someone who was nearly limb locked in the car.” He grumbled from his seat across the room.

“Might have been the blood- I feel fine now.”

He only hummed in agreement as she crawled into the crinkling hospital bed patting the bed beside her.

“I can’t. They wouldn’t even let me in to drop your stuff off, let alone stay past visiting hours.

Her head dropped against the pillow in frustration- groaning. “Fuck.”

Vera hopped back up onto her feet and pulled the drip with her as she walked over to Jotaro with his elbows on his knees.

He rose up as she got closer, bending down to give her a kiss on her forehead- a gesture that would have shocked her if she didn’t know it was his way of leveling with her- Vera seemed to mellow out under such tender physical gestures, even if it wasn’t necessarily his first choice.

“I’ll be back by morning.” Was all he could say as he gave her hand one final squeeze before leaving the room.

“Good night.”

With a reluctant sigh she crawled back into bed.

In a sense the fever that hit her a few hours later brought relief to her- somewhat. The intensity of a stand fever could never compare to a regular fever. So when she shot out of the hospital bed at 3am as if she was on fire, it came as no surprise to her mind as her body searched for relief- any kind of relief.

Vera ripped the needle from her arm and on shaky legs pushed the hospital door open to a very dark and very empty hallway. Her own feet betrayed her and with an ugly thud she acquainted herself with the floor- which gave her just a temporary cooling relief for the heat but she needed more.

Maybe it was hallucinations of her own muddled mind but the sight of her mother at the end of the hallway... it sparked a strange sense of excitement.

“Mom?” Her voice came out raspy and distorted to her own ears. Her dad’s face peaked just a bit behind her mother’s raven hair- the two looking at her fondly, as if she was a silly child in the play park, as if they were trying to get her to come back home.

“Dad?” She stumbled up to her feet, using the wall to get closer to what she knew was probably a mirage.

“Come on, angel. You don’t have all the time in the world.” Her dad spoke softly but just as she had gotten close enough to fall into their arms they walked off down a different hallway.

“Don’t strain yourself too much, Vera.” Her mother called back but how could she listen when all she wanted was to hold them one more time. The chance was right in front of her, right now! When would she ever get the chance again so while clutching the walls for support she ran after them.

Three more hallways, down two flights of stairs and one more hallways- she pushed past the swinging doors to what she could only in that moment puzzle together was the very reason she dreaded being in the hospital- the morgue.

“This one’s empty, angel. It might be a bit intense but it should help you think more clearly.”

Was it a stand attack? She wasn’t sure anymore. But when her hand gripped the metal door lock and opened, the cold flowing from the freezer hitting her body seemed too welcoming to ignore. She slid the tray out only about half way to climb on and slide herself back in.

The relief she felt was almost instant the second her skin met the metal table and then enveloped as she slid in.

Her breath seemed to come easier, so she turned on her stomach- keeping her hand on the edge of the door so she could still leave when she woke up from the fever dream.

And a fever dream it was. Soon as her head lolled down against her own arm and her eyes slid shut she was thrown into the little sun room she and her parents would have breakfast in. Sitting on the slightly uncomfortable little chair as she stared down at her bowl of granola and dried fruits. Beside her, her parents had their favorite breakfasts laid out in front of them. Her mom- avocado toast. And her dad- eggs Benedict.

When her mom spoke she spoke with a voice not just her own- “Vera.”

At the sound of her name she gave a deep breathe in, still not moving her eyes as the my fixated on the almond among her granola. “Do you blame yourself?” Her mother asked again.

Vera’s gaze lazily lifted up to meet her mother’s gaze. “What?”

“Well it’s quite common in this situation for a survivor to feel a kind of... guilt, angel.” Her father spoke in the same voice- multiples with only his recognizable to her.

“What situation?” Was she supposed to feel guilty for climbing into the morgue freezer?

Her father smiled warmly at her, as if the answer was so simple. “The accident.”

As if to prove a point, a warm liquid dropped onto her lap and in panic she looked over at her mom- who was slumped over the now empty table- her throat bleeding out once more and her dad not too different.

Vera shot up from her seat and tried to scurry away, falling over her own chair in panic. Why couldn’t she close her eyes? “Why are you haunting me?” She whimpered- her hands shaking as she tried to bite back her tears. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry I let them disturb your peace! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to take care of you! I’m sorry I didn’t bury you properly!”

The tears blurred her vision just enough for her to blink them away and when she opened them again- the tiled sun room was gone and the three of them was knelt down in the middle of the desert- a scale between them. After a moment she realized she was on one side of the scale with her parents on the other- gaping holes in their chests.

“We had found peace the first time we were buried, my angel.” She looked between her parents, both of their throats scarred but healed at least- Vera’s heart sat stubbornly in her throat.

The answer to the first question they had asked her finally came to mind and with a few breaths, trying to steady herself she answered. “It was my fault. I was supposed to take care of you! It’s my fault you’re dead in the first place!” She clawed into her knees, tears falling onto her striped pajama shorts. “I was weak and useless and I’ve been getting stronger for what? When all of this is over- regardless of outcome- I won’t ever be able to see you again. I’d give anything just for you hold me again.”

Vera felt like a child throwing a tantrum. Her parents were long gone and here she was, screaming at the figments of her own imagination- as if they could change the despair in her heart.

The sand beneath her legs seemed to shift and change once more and the comforting touch of her mother- so accurate she’d swear it was real- came to rest on her shoulder, soon joined by her father’s.

She had wished for an embrace so bad and they had complied. Her mom stroked her hair as her dad held them all close- the warmth being so welcoming.

“You have to stop blaming yourself, angel. You have to let go.”

Vera hid her face in the crook of her mother’s neck. “I miss you so much, how can you ask something like that of me?”

“You have to stop binding yourself to this pain, Vera. You need to stop looking back.” Her father squeezed them in tight a bit more.

That moment, she could have stayed in forever, travel in the underworld surrounded by their love. But the ground gave out all around them- wherever they were and not before long she had slipped from their grasp and said goodbye for the very last time.

With a jerk on impact in her dream she twitched herself awake in the freezer. Her fever was still raging but there was no way she was going to endure it in a morgue.

Four in the morning she had called a cab and asked to stop at the convenience store outside the hotel. The world spun as she got out of the car and picked up four bags of ice which she paid with whatever cash she could find in her pocket.

In the cab she slipped a few ice cubes into the back of her shirt on quietly suckled on one in her mouth as the cabby drove- the confused look he gave as he watched her bring a cold hand to the back of her neck.

After paying for the cab and booking in at the front desk she pried the plastic bags of ice open and poured it into the bathtub. Thankfully it was a fancy hotel and she didn’t have to worry about a dirty tub. The cold water hadn’t even started to float the ice before Vera laid her back down on the ice and let the water creep up behind her.

The ice felt like it was melting fat too quickly against the rampant fever overtaking her body. She let the water run until her head was floating in the surface along the ice- closing the taps with a sigh.

At least this round felt easier. The pain and heat were intense but she had just enough control to try and focus on keeping herself alive. It seemed bizarre still, though- having a second stand fever? Someone with two stands was absolutely improbable... so was it Fortune? Were they- changing?

Vera lifted her head just enough to look at the time on the wall clock across the hotel room.

4:55.

Cool, five minutes. She promised herself she’d submerge herself for just five minutes- she’d managed this time before.

The cold enveloping her skin truly was soothing- she couldn’t help but wonder if her body enjoyed this ease of aches and pains when Avdol would dip her into the water like this- the first time round.

Her mind wandered around the sight of her parents’ gaping chests. Of course- her father had been a believer of the ancient faith. Her mother converted not long after they had met- even if her catholic roots still affected her view of the world- she was pretty sure there weren’t angels in Egyptian faith. At least they were together. Hearts weighed by Anubis and sent off to their afterlife... at least they were together.

What would weigh heavy on her heart? Would it be Enya’s blood on her hands? Would it be the loneliness she had become so well acquainted with in the cold rainy dorm room at the boarding school? Would it be the guilt and grief of missing her parents?

Let go.

It seemed so simple. To just let it all go.

“I have been letting go.”

The voice in her head sounded so much like her own. But the ones echoing behind it most certainly wasn’t you. “You’ve been running, Vera. Forgetting, not forgiving.”

The voice made her realize- she hadn’t been keeping count of how long it had been since her head was submerged. But when she tried to break the surface of the water- her forehead met with a layer of ice. It can’t be. She opened her eyes to look at the frosted surface of the water above her but the bathtub had suddenly become so much deeper. In the darkness seeming to stretch to the bottom of the ocean behind her, the rune symbols on Fortune’s dials glowed an ominous red.

“Why do you run?”

“Because the past can’t.”

They didn’t answer. But a sinking feeling around her right leg started to drag her down. Instinctually- she kicked and flailed her limbs to stay closer to the surface- unavailable as it was.

“Only you can remove the chains, Vera.”

The red runes became swallowed by darkness as her arms grew tired and Fortune watched her get dragged down.

It felt like she was sinking forever as she eventually gave up. Was it really that easy? What would happen if she reached the bottom? Would the water in her lungs become real and some reaper would come pick her up? Would they take the ball and chain with her?

The chains seemed so loose- maybe just a quick slip away from freedom.

But why bother? What was out there that she’d miss? The warm chai Avdol brewed on Sunday mornings? Would she be able to leave the boarding school after her graduation anyway?

Hugs. She’d miss the hugs. Even from Mr Joestar. Smoke break shenanigans with Polnareff. The looming safety of Jotaro’s presence behind her. Kakyoin’s gentle hand holds. It had only been what? A month since she’d even started to experience these things. How would it feel... once it was all over and the ball and chain was gone? Was it enough to find out?

If she could sigh, she would have. But instead she curled up a bit, unhooked the loose chain around her right ankle and let herself float.

Her hands broke the surface of the water first- the ice gone as quickly as it was there. Her breath came easy- as if she didn’t feel like she was drowning. Crisp and refreshing, very reminiscent to that same time she had woken from the first fever. When the cold shot right through to her bones, she knew the fever was over.

Her eyes slid open to meet Fortune standing beside the bathtub- a bit different from what they usually looked like with the new displayed dial in the center of their collarbone.

“I see why you don’t talk.” Vera laughed to herself, sinking a bit back into the water to lay her head on the edge of the bath.

Coincidentally her eyes met with the clock on the wall she had looked at before going under...

4:55.

“I guess that’s what the new dial is for.”

[gwynne-fics]

Pictures

shameful relief

Eun-Sang woke to the warmth and smell of Young-Do next to her and it brought such relief to her heart as she rolled over and reached for him. She opened her eyes to find him lying beside her, his hand carefully holding hers, as he clearly avoided touching their garden. That saddened her a little as she reached out and smoothed her fingers over his eyebrows.

“Your healing is hurting him.” Yoo Kyung-Ran’s voice cut through her peace and Eun-Sang sat up to see her mother-in-law leaning against the back of the couch with her arms crossed. “He can’t process the death he’s been taking in. If you’re going to heal him so you can have a child, you need to do it another way.”

“The World Tree-”

“Is a tree. They reproduce differently.” She leveraged herself off of the couch and looked at Eun-Sang with those terrifyingly calm red eyes. It appeared they were alone. “It also may be lying to you. Any child you have will be unique and that’s dangerous. It may not want to risk it.”

“No. Plants can’t lie. They just can’t.”

“You are very arrogant for an untrained child. You have a lot of power, Cha Eun-Sang, but no finesse. You are hurting someone who loves you, someone who spent the last twenty hours cleaning up your mess.” Anger burned under her skin and without a single consideration, she flung her power wildly out at Yoo Kyung-Ran, who deflected it without blinking.

It startled Young-Do awake and he rolled to his feet. He immediately got in between them. His aura twitched around him before he clamped down his control over it.

“What’s going on?” He looked between the two of them and Eun-Sang couldn’t control her temper. Her anger at the injustice surrounding her just burned and she felt their garden start to grow around her. Young-Do initially took a step back before he cautiously approached her. “Eun-Sang, please. We can figure this out together.”

“I am not hurting you,” she said angrily. “I would never hurt you. The World Tree showed me what to do to make our baby and I trust it. It needs me.”

“It doesn’t need you,” Kyung-Ran said bluntly. “Your mother is still capable of having another daughter. Even Park Hee-Nam can see she made a mistake in how she raised you. She’s going to cut her losses and start over.”

Eun-Sang didn’t know why the thought of that terrified her. She grew up knowing she was necessary to the survival of the world. Mama wouldn’t just take that from her. Would she? No. No. Kyung-Ran was wrong. She just didn’t want a healer married to her son. They were universal opposites and Kyung-Ran was afraid of the wrong things.

Esther still approved her. If she didn’t, Esther would be here, dripping poison into Young-Do’s ear. He would listen to Esther before he listened to Kyung-Ran.

“Omma,” Young-Do didn’t look back at her. “You are upsetting my wife. Please leave.”

Eun-Sang watched her leave without an argument or plea to ask Young-Do to see her side. Perhaps she’d already given Young-Do her concerns--her lies--about Eun-Sang. She wasn’t hurting him. His aura was...complicated now. Eun-Sang would never deliberately hurt him. Not even when she tied him up. It wasn’t about pain. It was about control and now she had none of it.

Young-Do slowly started to approach her, his hands held up, but his eyes soft. His aura was clearly freaking out but he held it back from her. “I am worried,” he said so gently it hurt. “I think my aura might be hurting you when we make love. It is corrupting your power and I think that’s dangerous.”

“No.” She curled her hands into fists. “No. You would never hurt me.”

“Not on purpose,” he agreed. “Like you would never hurt me on purpose. But, you flayed three people and regrew their skin, trapping debris underneath it. I am paying for the damage to be rectified but healers just don’t do that, Eun-Sang.”

“My mother does it all the time.” Her tears felt cold against her cheeks.

“Your mother is corrupt and I know you don’t want to be like her.”

“Her corruption is her fault. No one influenced her to be like that. She does it because she can and she gets away with it because she’s powerful and has decades of practice. She failed nearly all of your internal organs!”

“I remember.” He was finally in front of her, offering his hands, despite the defensive nature of his aura stinging her eyes. “But we need to consider that there is a problem with us.”

“The problem is you gave up! If I hadn’t come home, you would’ve given up!”

“I wasn’t suggesting we give up. I was suggesting we get space to figure out what is going on and decide how to combat it.” He swallowed and briefly closed his eyes. “I am sorry my decision to take into consideration my employees and company hurt you. They will always be a consideration when my choices hurt them. I love you, Eun-Sang. I am putting you first but I can’t neglect them either.”

The twisting in her chest hurt at the reminder that she was so inexperienced and so selfish that she hadn’t considered his responsibilities when she lost her temper. She was ashamed at the chaos she brought home with her but she hated these people trying to control her.

“You won’t divorce me because your company wants you to?”

“Fuck, no,” he whispered intensely. “No one makes that decision but us. But yesterday’s point is moot. We can’t take back what you did, which means we need to go on the offensive against your mother. I just...I just wish you had a source on healing that you could trust. Would you like me to try and find you a teacher?”

Eun-Sang nodded and wiped at her face. “I feel so silly and stupid right now.”

He took her hands and pulled her into a tight hug. She began sobbing as she clung to him. “You are not silly or stupid. We have abilities we don’t completely understand and we’re trying to do something that’s never been done before. Emotions are going to be high and we’re going to get frustrated.”

“You aren’t frustrated. You don’t seem bothered at all.”

He gave a short, pained laugh. “Eun-Sang, people die if I let my emotions out. I have to keep them under control. I’m sorry if that’s part of what spun you up.” He pulled back and cupped her cheeks. “I love you deeply. It would destroy me to lose you after having your love. The time we spend together, the inane things we talk about, even drama night with Rachel and Hye-Rim is so very important to me. Making that call to ask you to not come home ripped into me in ways I didn’t expect. It was like watching you get on the plane all over again. I will work on expressing myself better. I’m sorry. With Esther and Rachel, they just know.”

“Even with my healer’s sight, I can’t just know.” She laid her cheek against his chest and curled her fingers in the waistband of his pajama bottoms. “What are we going to do now?”

He kissed the top of her head. “We are going to prune the garden and take a nap. Rachel is tracking down the protester’s connections. I think you should put together a statement that says everything you feel. Then, maybe call in sick to work and spend a few days with me.”

“I want that.” She looked up at him and tried to smile. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Young-Do bent down and kissed her.