#luckily for me my retirement plan involves a heart attack at my desk so i don’t need to worry about these things ����

[casbitchh]

not to brag but i just got an update on my retirement fund that if i retire at 68 i’ll have $10 a week until i die at 90 😎

[crystaljins]

By its cover | 08 Finale

Characters: Hoseok x Reader

Word count: 6.9 k

Synopsis: Your annoying little brother Jimin accepts a dare and summons a demon into your living room. There are multiple problems with this. 1) Demons are the most hated species on earth. 2) That demon happens to be Jung Hoseok, the most popular guy on campus 3) The fact that Jung Hoseok is a demon is his biggest secret and 4) Jung Hoseok hates your guts. You’re in for a wild ride. Demon!Hoseok, magic-university!au and enemies-to-lovers!au

Notes: Finale!! The ending for this fic was so hard! THere was so much I wanted to happen and I didn’t know how to make it happen. My aim was to make your heart feel kind of tingly and warm and hopefully I succeed in that. Please enjoy the final part to this fic <3

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Part 8: The monster within

You wake up at some point in the middle of the night with a crippling sense of humiliation and embarrassment and a headache so bad it feels like someone has taken an axe to your skull. You recognise the symptoms of magic exhaustion. Perhaps you exerted yourself too much that day, or perhaps the distress from Hoseok’s rejection depleted your meagre magic stores to the point you passed out. Either way, Hoseok must have carried you home and deposited you in your bed- you are unshowered and salty from the day out but are too tired to magic the grime away. Instead you get out of bed and shower the manual way. You appreciate the stream of hot water and let it numb you to the embarrassment and misery that the events of the day have caused.

You have bigger things to worry about than Hoseok’s rejection, because you are scheduled for your prac exam early the next morning. You leave a note for Hoseok, telling him to meet you by the car at the precise time you intend to leave and hope that it is enough to limit the interactions you have to have with him the next morning. You then retire to your bed and luckily you are so exhausted that you do not have time to dwell on anything Hoseok said to you earlier that day. You just fall asleep with the knowledge that you just have to get through this exam and then you can process later.You awaken the next morning and it is the determination to survive your exam and the dread of what stunt your lecturer may pull that gives you the courage to brave through seeing Hoseok’s face. He looks at you and goes pale and eats breakfast in your father’s bedroom.

As agreed, he waits for you in the car and you get in after him without a word. You do not know what to say to him. You aren’t mad or anything… just hurt. Embarrassed. You wonder what signals you must have been giving off for Hoseok to reject you in such a brutal way. You wonder why he kissed you if he just wanted you to forget it. You wonder a lot of things and then you remember that you should be worrying about your exam and not Hoseok and so you slam that train of thought down.

“Would you consider rescheduling?” Hoseok says suddenly. “Do this exam when you aren’t soul-bound to me.” He begs. Confused, you frown at him as you get out of the car. You feel frustration and hurt well up inside you.

“I don’t know what your game is, Hoseok,” You say tiredly. “But no. I can’t reschedule.” Your tone leaves no further room for argument. Hoseok clamps his mouth shut, chastened.

Hoseok follows at a reluctant distance as you begin your death march towards the room your exam is being held in. It’s supposedly a five-minute exam where your awful lecturer will present you with a synthetic wound. You are to scan it, write down its parameters, clean it and heal it entirely all within five minutes. You’ve gotten a lot better at not overloading the synthetic wound with your magic since the initial disaster, after constant practice, but you are still terrified.

The process to the exam involves signing in and waiting with other people from your course until your name is called within the lecture theatre. You will then proceed to the front where the lecturer is to assess you with the protection of a silencing spell for privacy. Apparently he is to pass the healed wound on to others for them to later assess- his purpose is merely to ensure no one tries to cheat. Still, you can’t help but feel apprehensive as you sign your name off. Hoseok opts to wait inside the room as well- he settles into a seat near the entrance of the classroom and you sit as far from him as you can.

Each name that is called sets your nerves ablaze. You have long surpassed the sensation of butterflies trapped in your abdomen- instead the sensation is closer to angry wasps. You do know what has incensed them to attack the lining of your stomach as they do but it does not help with the remaining magic exhaustion symptoms that have yet to completely fade. You find yourself wishing, in your moment of weakness, that Hoseok was sitting beside you, his hand resting carefully against yours as it does when he wants to comfort you but isn’t sure how. But that thought makes you feel worse to the point there is a dull ache in your chest.

By the time your name is called, you are a mess of nerves and misery. Lots of eyes flicker to you- you are, after all, well known in the cohort. Whatever happens next is sure to be interesting. You hold your head high as you approach the lecturer- the smile on his face is greasy and confirms your fears. He has something planned. You do not know what but you know the next twenty minutes will not be pleasant for you. You do not acknowledge Hoseok as you pass him. You can feel the heat of his concerned gaze as you walk down the aisles towards the front.

“Are you nervous?” You lecturer questions idly, and had you not endured nearly a semester of his torment, you might have thought he was being friendly. But concern for you is not something he is capable of, not as long as you are a witch.

“I suppose.” You answer absently, feeling nauseous like you are about to vomit. He just smiles as he begins to prepare the synthetic wound you are to perform the healing spell on. You fidget nervously and flinch when you hear someone softly calling your name. Confused, you turn your gaze in the direction of the soft call to find Hoseok gazing directly at you.

“Good luck!” He mouths, shooting you a thumbs up though his expression is so concerned he just looks pained when he tries to smile at you.

You are surprised but as you search his gaze you find nothing but earnestness. You bite back a smile- no matter what he said, or how he hurt you, Hoseok is Hoseok. Kind to a fault, encouraging to fault. It seems that whatever made him push you away so suddenly is not enough for him to abandon those characteristics.

“Thank you.” You mouth back, and then you turn. Your lecturer waits at the front of the room, leaning casually against his desk.

“It’s a special one.” He says, in a low voice. Most people don’t bother to watch you- they are too busy mouthing incantations or meditating to preserve their magic stores. “Made just for you.”

The synthetic wound levitates about a metre from where your lecturer stands. You inhale deeply and go to walk towards it but your lecturer holds up a hand. He has thin, spindly finders and his face is always pale and narrow. You think it’s pinched meanly- there is a certain hollowness to his whole frame. He flicks his fingers and the edge of the room goes blurry and out of focus. A side effect of the silencing spell, you know.

“You won’t pass, you know.” He tells you menacingly as you hold your hands out to begin scanning the wound. Surprised, you pause to look at him. He folds his arms and to the people outside the bubble of the silencing spell, it merely looks like he is just casually observing you as you prepare to perform the spell. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, little witch.” He sneers, but he says it with a practiced smile, tilting his head to the side. It looks like he’s warmly encouraging you.

“Watch me.” You answer, filled with a spurt of courage and a desire to no longer be stepped on by this horrible man. He laughs, like you’ve just made his day with a hilarious joke. He nearly doubles over with the force of it.

“Be my guest.” He tells you, gesturing for the wound. “I just want you to know, before you do, that you’re not the first witch to try this course. Every now and then a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, over-glorified magician gets it in their head that they want to help people. And I know exactly who inspired each and every one of you. But sooner or later every witch or warlock that walks in here quits. I make sure of it. There won’t be another mistake like her for a long time.”

You are so shocked by his tirade that your eyes water with frustrated tears. This man, this awful, petty, rude man, has the audacity to call the woman who saved your father’s life a mistake after he’s done his best to make your life a living hell for the better part of a semester. Yet he teaches healing, an entire discipline dedicated to helping people. The irony of it is bitter on your tongue.

“You’re a bully. A pathetic, sad, jealous bully.” You say back. “You may have scared off every other poor witch or warlock to walk in here but you won’t do that to me. I won’t bow to a bully.” You say bitingly. You are so sick of cowering to his bullying, of cringing with fear every time you walk into his lecture theatre. What right has he, to make you feel like this? Why do you fear him when he’s driven by petty jealousy and fear? His eyes flash with rage and he unwinds his arms, ready to yell at you when he recalls that the only thing that conceals his words is the silencing spell. He quickly returns to his relaxed, unbothered posture.

“I don’t like you, you little witch.” Your lecturer snaps through a strained smile. “Everyone should know their place and it disgusts me that you don’t. You come in here with childish dreams, when all you’re doing is hoping to upstage people who were born for this career. What, you think just because your species has a large magic supply that you’re all that? That you’re better than a species who has cultivated the art of healing for countless centuries? Know your place.” He snaps. Then he leans back with a smile that isn’t as strained- instead it is smug, like he knows something that you don’t. “Or rather, learn your place. Proceed before you hold up the other more worthy students.”

Incensed, you want to kick and scream. You want to lash out at him, to protest his harsh words but you know it is useless. He is nothing but a bully and will never be anything but a bully. Your job is to make it through this subject and then you will never have to deal with him again. Perhaps, when you are a successful healer one day, you can expose him for the awful person he is and protect a younger generation of witches and warlocks with dreams. But for now, you just have to pass this exam.

Raising your hands, you can’t help but be conscious of how drained your magic supply is. You close your eyes, willing it forward from your fingertips, to engulf the wound so you can scan it. It’s like waiting for the last dregs of sauce to squeeze from the bottle. You almost think it’s not there and are ready to face the humiliation when you become aware of it, trickling from the centre of your being outwards. Concentrating, you direct the flow towards the synthetic wound before you.

The second your magic comes into contact with the synthetic wound, everything goes wrong. It feels like a suction- suddenly your magic is being sapped from you without your consent. Like there is a vacuum attached to your soul and its greedily consuming your very being.

You cry out with surprise and stumble back, trying to break contact with the wound. Outside, you are sure people watch you with confusion, at the way you fall to the ground. It feels like you’re trying to yank yourself out of quicksand, but you cannot break the seal the cursed synthetic wound has formed around your magic. It has latched onto you and sucks you dry like a parasite.

“What have you done?” You cry out, desperately, and tears begin to stream down your face. You feel sick and dizzy- it’s painful, like he’s ripping your organs away from you. He just watched apathetically.

“You’re a witch.” He observes. “So I’ll end it in a minute. I just wanted to show you what it feels like to have the thing you value most taken from you by someone you despise. Perhaps then you’ll think twice about-“

The room spins around and dark patches swim through your vision. You doubt your lecturer wanted to kill you- he probably just wanted you to experience the pain of magic exhaustion and the humiliation of failing in front of your cohort, but what he didn’t know was that your magic supply is almost empty. It’s been sapped dry, and you retch and spasm as the synthetic wound he had cursed to drain your magic drains the last dregs of what you have. You gasp, like all the oxygen is gone from the air and think that this may be it.

Then the room explodes with heat and the blurry cover of the silencing spell shatters around you. It feels like glass, the way the room explodes around you. Suddenly chaos is all around you- the room is filled with terrified screams and flames lick the air around you.

For Hoseok has lost control. Horrified, and barely with the strength to stand, you turn to face the demon. Flames lick along his biceps and shadows dance with wicked delight across the room, tormenting the screaming students. His arms have grotesquely disfigured themselves into dark talons. Hoseok stumbles mindlessly forward, unaware of the way the fire singes and consumes the carpeted floor of the auditorium as he moves forward. Because a demon who has lost their control of the chaos that reigns deep within them can only focus on one thing. And Hoseok has a target.

“Hoseok!” You gasp, though the words are choked and raspy and not audible above the panicked screams of your classmates. Your lecture screeches and scrambles back, terrified of the being before you. Hoseok glares at him- his irises have vanished. The entirety of his eyes glow a demonic red, even the sclera. Hoseok snarls and falls forward onto all fours. It is a beastly posture and tongues of flame spiral around him.

The beast before you is why people fear demons so much. The sheer power and danger they pose to society is terrifying. Hoseok pounces forward, charging straight for your lecture and for a second, just a split second, terror locks your limbs in place. You are already immobilized by the way your magic is sapped, but the terror freezes even your lungs- your breath dies in your throat with a choked scream.

But then you recall that this is Hoseok. Kind, charming, beloved Hoseok who has lived his whole life hating what he is and he has not lost control because he is a monster who cannot control his temper. No, you know that now- can sense the link that binds your souls together. You know why Hoseok has lost control so drastically and dangerously. Because his magic has been entwined so tightly with yours since the soul-binding that the danger you just faced was enough to snap the tight hold he had of his demonic powers.

And so in the next second, you throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms around him as he leaps for you lecturer.

“Hoseok!” You cry once more, feeling the heat of flames dance along your clothes and singe them. You feel the pain as sharp heat peels the exposed skin of your arms. Your hands sizzle on contact with his overheated body but you do not release him. You are weak and exhausted and you know that any second you will lose consciousness from magic exhaustion but still you cling to him. Because you cannot allow him to hurt your lecturer, not because your lecturer deserves it but because it would destroy Hoseok to know that he’d hurt someone like this. “Hoseok, it’s me!”

Your cry seems to do the trick. He goes still in your arms. Flames still dance around him. Still snarling, he looks at you. At the way you weakly cling to him. Then he tosses you off like you weigh nothing. You cry out as you collide with the ground. Hoseok raises his taloned claw. You flinch, preparing for him to strike you. But the strike does not come. Instead he slices through the synthetic wound. Its hold over your magic snaps loose.

But the tension is gone from the air and slowly the air cools. Hoseok blinks and the red is gone from his eyes. He looks down at you, and then disbelievingly at his taloned arms as they revert back to their original form. All that remains as the chaos subsides is Hoseok amongst the carnage. His clothes are singed and people begin to pop out from where they shielded themselves with chairs and shielding spells. The lecture hall is in tatters. Your lecturer has passed out from terror.

Hoseok is in the centre of it all. Tears stream down his face. His chaotic magic tore through the glamour potions he used to suppress his horns and tails and every single person can see the features he’s so ashamed of.

“(Y/N)?” He asks in a choked sob. “(Y/N), what happened?” He reaches for you, extending an arm to where you had been thrown. Then he steps forward and collapses into your waiting arms, sobbing in horror at what he’s done.

And that’s when everything goes black.

++

You awaken in a hospital bed. Your burns have been healed by magic- all that remains of them are the faint scars. They look like they happened years ago rather than a few hours earlier. Your hand itches- a shimmery, near translucent lines wraps around your skin like chains and leads away to a bubbling contraption in the corner you recognise as a magic generator. A magic crystal spins rapidly on top of it, casting tiny fractured rainbows across the white room that spin like a disco ball. You recognise it as the treatment for magic exhaustion- the healers must have decided to replenish your magic supply.

The door to your hospital room opens suddenly, and you whip around. You are surprised and delighted to see it is your father who enters. He glances at you and smiles. It is a tired smile but brimming with relief and joy.

“You’re awake.” He comments warmly. He walks over to you, dragging a chair towards him so he can settle at your bedside.

“I’m awake.” You answer, in an attempt to reassure him. He smiles- you can see dark circles under his eyes and deduce that he must have only just arrived in the country.

“Jimin will be glad to know. I had to bribe him with some money for the vending machine to get him to stop crying.” Your father informs you fondly. He reaches out and grabs the hand that doesn’t have the magic line wrapped around it. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty alright, actually.” You admit. You’d go so far as to say you feel like a million bucks. The magic exhaustion that has been plaguing you for nearly a month is finally gone. Your father nods pensively.

“I’d imagine you feel great, now that the soul-binding has been broken.” He comments.

“What do you mean?” You question. You did notice Hoseok wasn’t in the room but you had assumed he was waiting outside. But if the soul-binding is broken…

Your father shrugs, getting up to check the settings of the magic generator.

“Well,” He says, watched the hypnotic way the magic crystal spins. “It seems you were dying of magic exhaustion.”

He says it casually, but you catch the pained edge to his voice.

“What?” You cry. “Dying?”

He nods. He dabs away a couple of tears from his face before he turns towards you.

“That soul-binding really did a number on you.” He tells you. “It took a lot of organizing but I managed to meet with an old friend of mine, who actually happens to be one of the rare demons with a university degree. She informed me that when two parties are soul-bound, the demon party parasitizes the magic supply of the non-demon party. That’s what Hoseok’s been unknowingly doing this past month. I… I told him all this on Saturday night when I called him. He didn’t pass on the message?”

You feel numb with belated horror.

“No.” You say breathlessly. “He didn’t breathe a word of it.”

Your father goes on to explain just what had transpired between the two of you. Apparently, soul-binding is an ancient spell, rarely used these days once people realised that demons were not mindless beings they could enslave to do their bidding. Jimin had found the spell in a book in the public library. It should have been thrown out long ago but apathy of the general public towards the well-being of demons had lead to a woefully out-of-date and poorly kept collection of demonic spells. But essentially, the spell binds the demon and the summoner’s souls together. The demon is provided with the summoner’s magic while the summoner is provided with the protection of the demon. Unfortunately, since neither of you had been aware that such a bond had been formed between you, you had been unknowingly providing Hoseok with more and more of your magic. The closer the two of you got, the more you subconsciously supplied him and drained yourself. It explains the fatigue you had experienced- you had been on the verge of magic exhaustion for an entire month. No doubt, had the soul-binding not been broken, you would have eventually succumbed to it and died. The thought is a chilling one. And as for Hoseok, his sudden inability to control his normally well-restrained demonic powers came from having an abundance of magic he was unused to controlling. Like holding a puppy only to have it transform into a raging bull in your arms. It all makes sense- you knew that somehow the soul-binding had been draining you but you hadn’t known or wanted to face the full extent that it had. You had just been putting off the inevitable because you didn’t want to believe Hoseok was capable of hurting you, consciously or unconsciously. Your father had explained this all to Hoseok and booked the soonest flight back but Hoseok had been too horrified and self-conscious to pass the message on to you.

As for how the soul-binding broke, your father is forced to resort to theorizing for he was not present in the lecture hall. Apparently your lecturer, when questioned by the authorities, had only wanted to scare you a little. Drain your magic enough that you were unable to complete the assessment and would be forced to drop out. He had been unaware of your predicament. As had everyone else. But when your depleted magic stores had been drained to the point of danger, Hoseok had sensed it. Had detected the way your very life forced wavered and had lost control in his desperation to save you. Your father speculates that Hoseok must have subconsciously broken the soul-binding before losing control because the amount of magic he used to destroy the auditorium would have killed you. Still, Hoseok had saved your life, though at a cost. Now everyone knew his true identity.

Your uni has apparently agreed to keep it quiet and not punish Hoseok if your father agrees not to press charges against your lecturer or leak to the press the amount of bullying that has been happening at his hands. The lecturer, of course, was fired as soon as his actions came to light. So Hoseok’s education is safe, even if his social life is now essentially slaughtered.

Your father leaves you to rest but you cannot sleep. You are so perplexed over the confusing happenings over the past 48 hours. Hoseok’s actions the day before suddenly make sense to you. It wasn’t just because it was too soon after Yeri for him to be getting close to you. He must have been allowing himself one last day to enjoy your company before he pushed you away for your own sake. Perhaps he had been hoping that if you hated him or were no longer close to him you would stop subconsciously supplying him with magic, or that the soul-binding would dissolve. And now you understand why he lost control- it really was because of you, just as you had realised in that moment you stopped him from attacking your lecturer.

But rather than be happy or relieved that Hoseok doesn’t actually hate you, you are hurt. You are hurt because he didn’t tell you the truth. You are hurt because now the truth is out and Hoseok will have to spend his days a loner because of something out of his control. Because of you and your immature brother. The two of you ruined his life. He broke your heart by lying to you and pushing you away, but you also broke his by indirectly being responsible for the exposure of his deepest darkest secret. It’s so tangled and messed up and you don’t know how to even begin fixing it.

You are discharged from the hospital early the next morning and return to uni the next day. And things go back to normal, oddly enough. Jimin is absurdly kind to you, horrified that he was almost responsible for the death of his beloved sister. Your father grounds Jimin but also comforts him and returns to being the head of your little family. And Hoseok has vanished- he doesn’t answer your calls or texts and somehow he evades you when you wait outside his classes. You would think he wasn’t attending class at all if you weren’t aware of the whispers about him in nearly every hallway.

Though you are hurt, you miss him. You understand why he did what he did, and gradually as the days go by, the hurt starts to fade as you begin to forgive him for his confused actions. It is replaced with a debilitating concern. Where is he? Is he ok? Are people being mean to him?

Finally the day arrives that you have your answer to those questions. It seems all you needed to do to find him was to stop looking. For you stumble into the library ready to study. You are surprised to find so many seats unoccupied- normally the university library is packed and finding a seat is a struggle.

Then it occurs to you that all the unoccupied space is actually people giving someone a wide berth. At the centre of all the abandoned desks, sits Hoseok. He is intently focused on whatever he is studying- you would almost think he hadn’t noticed the way he’s been given a wide berth if it weren’t for the way that every now and then he shoots a sad glance at the empty seats around him.

Gripping you bag strap tightly and hooking it more securely around your shoulders, you stride forward with the determination of a woman who cannot be stopped.

You forcefully set down you books in the seat opposite Hoseok’s. He flinches at the sudden noise and looks up.

His eyes land on you and then they go comically wide.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, horrified. “You can’t be here, you have to-“

“Shhhh.” You cut him off, holding a finger to your lips. “It’s a library, Hoseok. And this is a free seat. No minding seats for friends.”

And with that you settle into your seat. Hoseok looks like he wants to protest further, but you gaze determinedly at your book, refusing to acknowledge him. Eventually he sighs with resignation and returns to his studies.

He cannot handle it for long, however. He grows antsier and antsier. Whispers begin to spring up around you as people realise some idiot has decided to sit opposite a demon. People look and point fingers and roll their eyes in disgust and each time Hoseok flinches like they are pelting rocks at him.

When someone passing by shouts something obscene at you about your relationship with demons, that is Hoseok’s tipping point. He shoots to his feet so rapidly the chair screeches beneath him. You wince at the sound.

“Follow me.” He says between gritted teeth.

“I’m studying!” You protest, playing dumb. He does not allow you to take that stance, however. He merely grabs your hand and begins to drag you behind him.

When you reach an alcove he deems quiet and secluded enough, he drops your hand like it’s burnt him. Immediately you feel like a fool for the way you miss the warmth his hand provided.

“What are you doing?” He demands. Avoiding his gaze, you sheepishly glance downwards.

“Well, I was studying,” You joke, and when he continues to stare at you with an unimpressed look, you begin to fidget beneath his gaze.

“(Y/N).” He calls your name warningly. You know that he’s not going to drop this so you sigh in defeat.

“I just wanted to see you.” You admit softly. “You looked lonely and I know you hate being alone.”

Hoseok looks away, his face scrunched up like he’s in physical pain. You reach up and place a comforting hand on his forearm. He looks down at where your fingers wrap around his arm and he looks like he may cry.

“I deserve to be alone.” He admits. Your jaw goes slack and he continues as if a dam has broken and all his inner thoughts are rushing out. “My whole life I’ve always thought it was so unfair the way people feared my kind. I hated having to hide myself because people couldn’t look passed the fact that I’m a demon. And now I know why, it’s because I’m a monste-“

“Hoseok, no.” You protest, cutting him off. Your grip around his arm tightens so that you are no longer attempting to comfort him but instead holding him in place. “You’re not a monster!“

“You could have died.” He says suddenly, heatedly. “I don’t think you understand that. You almost did die and it would have been because of what I am. If I were a warlock or a sunsprite or a pixie you would have never been in such a dangerous position. And that’s not even starting on what could have happened to any of those innocent bystanders in that lecture hall. By some stroke of luck, no one got hurt, but they could have.”

“But they didn’t.” You assert forcefully. “They didn’t because you wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. Everything that happened in that lecture hall had nothing to do with you being a demon. It happened because that lecturer is a bad man. He’s the one who almost killed me, not you. You saved my life Hoseok.”

When he stares at you in complete and utter confusion and bewilderment, you soften your grip on him. You lean forward and pull him into your arms- he goes limp like a ragdoll the second you’ve tugged him down to your level. His arms hang limply at his side. You get the sense that maybe you’ve broken whatever wall he was trying to keep up against you.

“My dad told me what happened. Why you lost control… It was to save me. And you know what, Hoseok, if you hadn’t destroyed that wound, it would have killed me. Not to mention, you somehow figured out how to break the soul-link before releasing your powers or I definitely would have died. I wasn’t going to walk out of that room alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tell him surely. You think you feel dampness pool in the crook of your neck and shoulder. Hoseok’s body shudders with a repressed sob and his arms come up to wrap tightly around you.

“I’m really sorry.” He gasps. Confused, you just tighten your arms around him, thankful for the privacy the alcove offers you. You consider casting a silencing spell but your magic still hasn’t quite recovered to what it was. “For saying those things that day. About wanting to keep my distance and about Yeri and about not wanting to be close to you. They weren’t true. I was just so scared. You’re the most wonderful friend I’ve ever had.”

“That’s ok.” You say softly. “I’m a little frustrated that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth, but it’s ok, Hoseok. You’re not a monster.”

He nods. It seems he does not have the courage to face you because he continues to speak to your neck.

“Even if I’m not,” He says slowly. “Everyone knows the truth now. You can’t be seen with me, or I don’t know what they’ll do to you-“

“Hoseok.” You say, pushing on his shoulders so that he is forced to take a step back and you can look into his face. “Since when have I ever cared what other people think? Is that honestly why you’ve been avoiding me?” You ask incredulously. To your surprise, he flushes and looks away.

“What would you say if it was?” He asks softly. You plant your hands firmly on your hips.

“That you’re a dummy! Hoseok, before we were soul-bound, my days consisted of driving Jimin around to social commitments and studying alone in my bed room.” You tell him. You aren’t ashamed. “But you… you changed all that! For the first time I’m going to parties, and mixing with people and I have plans on the weekend. And that’s all because of who you are. But if having that life means I throw aside the person who gave it to me then I don’t want it. I… I…” You flush red and it takes you a few goes to force out the words that come next. “I want you, Hoseok. I don’t care that you’re a demon and anyone who does care isn’t worth the time it takes to tell them to go away.”

Your face is red by the end of your confession, and you pant slightly with the exertion of your rant. Hoseok’s eyes are wide and his jaw is slack by the end of it. Then to your immense surprise, he bursts into laughter. Full bellied, genuine, nigh shrieking laughter. You would think he were sick or in hysterics were it not for the way he fondly wipes his eyes and steps closer to you.

“I should have known better.” He says warmly. “I tried to push you away because I was worried the only friend who’s ever liked me for me would be sent running for the hills if she learnt I had almost killed her. I didn’t think I could face the thought of you thinking that I was a monster.”

“I don’t!” You protest earnestly. “And I would have been scared if you told me the truth, but not of you. Never of you!”

He smiles, and it’s a tender, warm smile. His hands come up to tuck stray hairs that are loose around your temples behind your ears. The gesture is tentative and intimate and it makes your heart beat slightly faster.

“Then… do you think you could do me a favour?” He asks slowly. You blink up at him and smile and genuinely as you can muster.

“Of course!” You tell him warmly, relieved that he seems to have abandoned the piles of self-loathing he had been buried beneath.

“Would you… would you…” He flushes an interesting shade of red, and he looks away. “This is harder than I thought.” He confesses with a laugh. Then he gathers his courage and plants a hand on each of your shoulders. It forces you to look at him head on. “I get that you want to be friends with me… But do you think you could want me as more?”

Your jaw drops and never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined the way your whole body flushes hot and your heart attempts to leap out of your chest at his words.

“More?” You question breathlessly. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok looks self-consciously at the ground, breaking the steady eye contact between the two of you.

“As more than a friend, I mean. Like… as a boyfriend?” He questions tentatively. He disguises his embarrassment by clearing his throat. “If you want, I mean. Like… I’d take you out on a date first, but-“

The universe is against you it seems because in that moment, before Hoseok can finish explaining and before you can answer, the two of you are interrupted.

“Hoseok!” It’s Hoseok’s friend, the performance major Namjoon. He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s trespassing on a private conversation. He looks concerned. “I’m so glad I found you Hoseok! There’s something really important you have to come to, right now.”

Concerned, you and Hoseok exchange a glance. Namjoon’s gaze flicks to you.

“(Y/N) can come too.” He says warmly towards you. “But it’s definitely urgent, can’t wait another second!” He says, and before either of you can protest, he has grabbed Hoseok by the wrist and is dragging him behind them. Hoseok squawks in protest and you follow at a slower pace.

You are concerned- most of Hoseok’s friends abandoned him after the revelation that he was a demon spread around campus. You don’t know Namjoon well enough to know if he took the news well. Your apprehension only grows as Namjoon leads the two of you through winding corridors, deep into one of the campus buildings. Hoseok doesn’t protest or attempt to escape, however, and that gives you courage. He shoots you a reassuring smile over his shoulder and it eases the tension in your body somewhat.

Finally, Namjoon comes to a stop beside a door. It is shut and you cannot see any light coming from it.

“Alright. The thing I needed to speak to you about is in here, Hoseok.” Namjoon says solemnly, and you almost would have been afraid if you hadn’t caught the mischievous, playful sparkle that shines in his eyes in the meagre lighting of the corridor.

Hoseok eyes Namjoon suspiciously, before hesitantly opening the door.

Only for the dark room beyond the door to flood with light. Dozens of people burst out from behind tables and chairs and desks. They all scream “surprise” so loudly that Hoseok leaps nearly a metre in the air with fright.

It’s an unused classroom, and judging from the banter hanging over the far wall that reads “Congrats on being a demon”, it’s a surprise party.

Hoseok looks at Namjoon, bewildered. His eyes are teary as he waits for an explanation.

“It wasn’t my idea.” Namjoon says sheepishly. “Seokjin suggested we do it. We know people haven’t been treating you right since the truth came out, but we want you to know Hoseok, that we love and support you. Demon or not!”

Hoseok tearily thanks Namjoon and your heart warms at the way he is instantly tugged into the festivities. It is perhaps not as large a crowd as a surprise party for Hoseok would have drawn in the past, but there is at least a solid dozen people in the room. That’s twelve people who love Hoseok enough to overlook he’s a demon. Twelve whole people who accept him for who he is. The thought has you teary. Hoseok had been made to believe that everyone hated but that wasn’t the case at all. The thought has tears forming in your eyes as you too are dragged into the festivities.

It is only later, as the energy of the party starts to die down, that you are gifted a moment to say something to Hoseok. It’s a fleeting moment. People have brought a cake and demand he cuts it like a birthday cake.

“If you touch the bottom you have to kiss a girl!” Hoseok’s friend Seokjin cries out gleefully. Somehow you have ended up pushed and jostled through the group of people until you are standing right beside him.

“You never answered my question, you know.” He tells you in a low voice as people scream through a weird congratulatory anthem you’ve never heard before. You frown, confused until you recall the conversation you had been having earlier before Namjoon accepted.

“Oh.” You say in surprise. “Well, I suppose if it’s a favour to you,” You tell him softly, a gentle smile tilting your lips  that has Hoseok’s heart beating faster in response. “Then of course I could consider you as more. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Hoseok’s reply comes in the form of his knife reaching the bottom of the cake. People hoot and holler gleefully, declaring that he must now kiss a girl.

He presses a gleeful smooch to your lips.

And that is the moment you know for sure, surrounded by the people who love Hoseok and genuinely feels like friends to you for the first time. That everything’s gonna be ok with you and Hoseok.

[mrsreevcs]

FIRST LADY OF THE UNITED STATES FROM 2016 TO 2018  /  PRIVATE  CITIZEN. *

･:*:･ﾟ☆ (  jessica chastain. forty-six. cisfemale. she/her )  ↷  isadora m. reeves has been spotted running around washington, dc. they have been a former supervisory special agent for two months. their friends describe them to be analytical, forthright, & methodical while others describe them to be fickle, neutral & resentful. will they survive this new administration and be part of history? only time will tell. ･:*:･ﾟ☆ *

full name:  isadora  mariëlla  reeves  (  née  van  zoelen  )

age:  forty - six    [    46  years  old    ]

nickname(s):  isa  /  auntie  dory  (  kids  in  family  )

birthdate/zodiac sign:  april  11th ,  1972    /    aries

birthplace:  manhattan ,  new  york  city ,  new  york

romantic/sexual orientation:  panromantic  +  bisexual

occupation:  retired  supervisory  special  agent  (  fbi  )

hola  hola  !  i’m  frankie  and  i  go  by  the  she/her  pronouns ;  i’m  so  thrilled  to  be  a  part  of  politicushq.  you’ve  no  idea !  this  is  the  love  of  my  life ,  isadora  &  i  hope  y’all  love  her  as  much  as  i  do  even  though  she  might  have  a  tough  exterior.  i’m  extremely  eager  to  write  her  out  !  i’m  TRASH™  when  it  comes  to  describing  my  characters  but  i’ll  try  my  very  best.  she  means  well  even  if  you  don’t  think  she  does  !  i  don’t  even  know  what  else  to  say  about  myself  but  if  you’d  like  to  plot  or  even  chat ,  my  d*scord  is :  farrokh bulsara#7928 .  i’m  trying  to  get  the  hang  of  it  still,  but  feel  free  to  add  me  on  there  if  it’s  easier.  please  love  us  &  thank  you  so  much  for  taking  the  time  in  reading  this  pretty  lame  introduction.  ♡  she  is  kind  of   inspired  by  emily  prentiss  from  criminal  minds.

life before moving into the white house:

ISADORA van ZOELEN was born in the manhattan borough of new york city to dutch-french ( naturalized american citizens ) parents who migrated to the united states in the 60′s to seek the american dream lifestyle. her parents, constantin & nadine, are hard-working, reliable people and raised their kids in a middle - class working family. they didn’t live a privileged life but they sure had a roof over their heads, and that was something to be thankful for ( considering manhattan is somewhat of an expensive city to live in ).

the redhead has always had ambitions of giving back to her community and work for the nation’s law enforcement agency: the federal bureau of investigation. that was her goal ever since graduating from stuyvesant high school in 1990. she hoped and prayed for her well-being.

she met edward reeves in her second year at university, and boy did she fall in love. they were complete opposites or that is what she assumed. there was no way that isadora’s in his league. however, they were both really ambitious and dedicated for wanting to pursue their careers; that’s when it all started for them.

they dated for a few years, marrying two years after graduating. she still didn’t think she was good enough for him but did everything she could to become an fbi agent. luckily, she received his support. through thick and thin, everything was going well when she started training at quantico.

her training days were HARD but worth it. she was competivite and was inclined to be supportive and worked best as/with a team. only a few are handpicked to work in the dept that she aimed for. she proved her point, she finally made it through sweat, tears and blood. isadora’s highly skilled/trained with weaponry, mixed martial arts, and self-defense.

when she was 27 years old, isadora was pregnant with their child and welcomed MASON into the world. edward and isadora’s first-born, their only son. they were over the moon! their family was growing. she never thought she’d ever become a mother but holding him in her arms changed her. she was absolutely terrified but isadora’s heart grew warmer.

before she knew it, she was back at work after being on maternity leave. she’d go to work doing everything for her husband, son; their small family. long hours at work & on the field were excruciating. all she wanted to do was be home with their baby boy. 9 hour shifts would turn into almost 14 hour shifts. she would rarely sleep by the time she’d get home. however, edward and isadora hired a nanny to care for their son while they were away.

whenever isadora was home, she’d never talk about work. she’s witnessed some of the most heartbreaking cases ever and had gotten even emotional over time whenever kids were involved. it's not something any person should witness yet she was strong. she had to have a tough exterior for the victims and their well-being.

trying her best to not seem invasive in their lives, she’d make sure everything went according to plan. no schemes, no bullshit. you don’t want to get on her bad side; she’ll scold and tell someone off in front of people if she has to they ever did something cynical just for their own interest. she’ll remind them that it’s not about them, it’s about the people. she doesn’t have time to babysit people who are grown and know from right and wrong. it should be evident.

the next thing she knew, she was pregnant with their second child, a daughter, SALLY ANN. she was welcomed into the world 1+ year after mason. holding her in her arms made her realize that she had to dedicate her time to being a mom, before she didn’t have the time to do so anymore. she decided to leave work although it was a tough decision. she loved her job but she loved her kids even more. she had to be there for them. she let their nanny off on paid-leave and offered them to come back whenever they wanted. ( the nanny had their own room in the reeves’ residence )

as soon as her children were adolescents, she went back to work confident as ever. fast forward a couple of years and edward has decided to run for president; releasing his presidential campain in 2016. ISADORA WAS BLINDSIDED. going into politics was something she did not want her family to go through. she became furious when he actually won the electoral college vote. there were days when she couldn’t even look at him.

resulting in his win, she thought she lost everything. not her family life but her career, everything she worked for. would it be possible to still work for the fbi and become the first lady of the united states? there was but she was assigned desk work and became miserable. she wasn’t too happy.

living in the white house:

it was evident that the reeves’ lives changed forever. before moving into the white house, their daughter had turned to isadora and had trouble breathing. sally had a panic attack. she was upset and spoke to edward when they arrived home. isadora didn’t know how to control her temper, so she became extremely protective of sally after her panic disorder diagnosis. has she failed her family?

she lost her confidence after being blindsided and eventually moving into the white house. she still worked for the agency but it wasn’t the same anymore. what was the point? she was willing to risk her life but not like this, not as the first lady.

a year of being in the white house, she realized that her husband’s agenda wasn’t what was planned through his campain. what was going on? lies and schemes of politicians, she thought. the redhead starting asking around about edd’s progress with a sincere smile on her face ... but wasn’t always given the answers she was looking for. little did they know, she could easily read people’s behavior but kept her mouth shut most of the time and was observant. after all, that was her job.

as a mother, isadora encouraged her children to do what they wanted with their studies. not forcing them to stick around at the white house if they didn’t want to. BULLSHIT. it was all shit and her life was changing far too much. she’s a chameleon, however. she wanted to avoid blaming her husband for what was happening. she had to clean up his mess.

isadora decided to let everything go and went along with it. all she wanted was a psychiatrist to talk to her and ease her life a little bit, but avoided thinking about it.

september 30th, the day she’d spoken to edward about his progress, being a supportive wife rather than a bitter one. it was the first time they’d spoken to each other as husband and wife. just themselves that morning. it was special. she felt loved. she needed to make it up to him somehow, apologizing endlessly. he forgave her.

sticking around the white house, or tending to her first lady duties, she was eventually escorted to a safer place. the next thing isadora knew, she was on her way to the hospital. one of the secret service agents had told her what happened. she was in shock. not realizing that she was the first one there, her husband arriving shortly after, she panicked. it wasn’t obvious but she panicked.

president reeves and vice president samuels are pronounced dead. isadora fell into the hospital floor on her knees. there weren’t tears in her eyes yet, but isa didn’t know how to react either. she never thought her husband and their colleague would end up being assassinated. mrs. reeves was furious. although being by her husband’s lifeless body, she didn’t leave his side. she couldn’t even after everything they went through. she couldn’t find it in her heart to deliver the news to mason and sally ann, not being able to form sentences when she’d open her mouth to speak.

she wants to hide from the world, longing to return to her hometown of new york city. she wants to get away. away from the press, away from everyone. she knew people had different opinions about potus and vpotus, but why did they have to be assassinated? that shoudn’t have happened. where was security, the secret service agents? endless questions were running through her mind. but running away wasn’t a solution. she wanted to do something. she needed answers? should she go back to the fbi headquarters? she didn’t know what to do. 

her former co-workers have reached out to her, she had tears in her eyes after hearing every single one of their voices. was the new female president going to kick her out of the white house? where could she go? she didn’t realize how much she missed working with her unit. she needs to come back but she felt like she was a target after her husband’s death... even though she didn’t have much to do with his agenda. she did clean up his mess and maybe people were beginning to figure it out. she’s gotten paranoid.

two months later, november 25th, president reeves’ funeral comes around. isadora couldn’t stay longer than a few hours, so she had to leave. it was all overwhelming. she’d have her sunglasses on, never having the intention of taking them off, and her eyes red from crying. she didn’t want to be seen. she was truly grateful from the outpouring support and condolences she’s received but... her life changed. she no longer had the love of her life with her, by her bedside, raising their children despite being a changing man after involving himself in politics.

what could she possibly do? she didn’t know where to go or who to trust. she did, however, support the new president, carolyn anderson. what was her agenda going to be like? she didn’t know? if anything, she’d stand by her if the time were to come but now isn’t the greatest time. isadora will eventually come back to her altruistic self, and hopefully soon. because when she’s back, no one will want to mess with her. she’ll be a changing woman.

revised and edited on november 27th at 9:57AM.  edited again to add the info at 10:19.  lmao i forgot to add the info.

i don’t know if it was mentioned before, but her main priority for becoming an agent was to provide safety to minority groups. it’s important to her. if no one else would stand up to injustices, then why can’t she? yes, isadora is a white woman but she’ll be your ally through and through. if she could’ve had the chance, she would’ve ran her president herself. but it’s not her cup of tea.

shit, i forgot what else. it’ll come back to me sooner or later.