Rumi's line "Excuse me?! I'm everyone's type!" is actually so fucking funny. Like, yeah, she has major self-esteem issues and thinks that there's something fundamentally wrong with her that needs to be fixed before she'll be worthy of love, but that has no bearing on the fact that she's drop-dead gorgeous. Girly really said, "Listen, you cringe-ass twink (affectionate), I may inherently be a monster, but I'm the hottest monster to walk this earth and you will respect that."
Before she can protest, Mira tears off her sleeve, revealing the wound slicing through her patterns in all its hideous glory.
She tenses, ready to bolt, but then Zoey's on her lap, her hands pressing into Rumi's waist.
"Don't leave," she pleads, her voice soft and fragile that Rumi worries that moving might break something, which she supposes is the point.
"Patterns," she stutters weakly.
"We know," Mira says softly, even as she upsets Rumi's entire worldview, "We've known for a while. We don't care, you're still Rumi,"
"How...,"
"You got drunk, you freaked out and cried about it, passed out, then we freaked out and cried about it," Zoey explains, taking Rumi's hand in hers, pulling her attention from Mira's ministrations, "You didn't remember. We were hoping you'd come to us eventually, but you never did. Mira and me have kinda been racking our brains how to tell you we knew without you running, freaking out, or shutting down,"
"I-I'm sorry-,"
"Don't." Mira says quietly, "Please don't. We were upset that you and Celine lied to us, we are upset that you never trusted us enough to come to us on your own terms, but we understand why you hid,"
"Celine's whole 'Anything with patterns is a Demon, all demons must die' speech made it very clear," Zoey says, her voice tinged with a rare, distraught anger.
No one speaks after that. Mira's hands are gentle, Zoey's weight on her lap is grounding, and she's finding it harder and harder not to cry.
Eventually, Mira presses a bandage to her wound and wipes her arm clean of everything except the patterns.
"Do your patterns hurt?" she asks quietly, her finger pressed lightly against a stripe high on her shoulder.
"N-no. Not physically,"
"That's good," Mira hums, nakedly relieved, resting her head on Rumi's shoulder.
"They're very pretty," Zoey says, and Rumi feels her ears burn.
"You don't have to pretend,"
"I'm not pretending, Ruru. Demon patterns are pretty, they're usually just attached to soul sucking jerks. Luckily you aren't a soul sucking jerk, and a certified hottie on top of that,"
She bursts into tears. She can't help it any more.
I know this must have already been said, but it's impossible to listen to this song and not think of Rumi singing it to Mira and Zoey.
Perhaps Rumi was following Celine's advice and hiding half of who she was because "your faults and fears must never be seen". But at the end of the day Rumi must have felt like she was the one hiding the truth, not Celine. And I'm sure she saw reason behind it too, thinking of herself as someone potentially dangerous who couldn't be trusted until she was "fixed."
I think this lyrics resonate in the aftermath of the Idol awards scene, when she goes to Celine. Her human side, Celine and everything she's learn is saying it's what you make, but her demon side telling her it's up to fate, woven in her soul. And she accepts she can't escape it anymore.
Since I came up with it, I thought I might as well write it.
This is where my mind went when I listened to the song. I hope you enjoy it. @stories-i-guess @nitrodestroyer14 @snowbythewood @@snappingturt3ls @frozenwolftemplar
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The camera flashes and lights had faded into the night as Rumi slipped away from the Idol Awards.
When the lights fade out, all the sinners crawl, she had heard once, and it had never resonated more to her than now.
Still the noise could be heard in the distance. The cheering had died, replaced by the sounds of screams. And no matter the gap between her and the arena, the echoes stayed in her chest, a hollow weight pulling her down.
She kept her head down, each step measured as she made her way to the only place she believed could offer her absolution. The only place that could help her escape what she had become.
Mira and Zoey had tried to reach her. But their concern lasted only as long as her own relief of seeing them did. The fraction of the second it took for them to spot the patterns and what laid behind the fragile walls she’d put up for years.
She had tried to hide the truth, shelter them from what she was. She had trusted Celine and her reminder to keep the darker parts of herself hidden. Rumi had taken it to heart. It had always been easier to smile and keep the mask on, than to let them see the shame she carried. But with the beast inside, it was only a matter of time until she had nowhere else to hide.
Zoey and Mira’s words rang in her head, as a whisper she couldn’t silence. She could still see their worried glances, the betrayal in their eyes. Mira had insisted on the truth long before the Idols awards, she had always suspected something wasn’t right; and Rumi, unsure and afraid of what to give her, had kept breaking her trust, piling lies over lies.
She had tried so hard to stop them from getting too close for so long.
The thought of having let them down slashed through her, sharp as Mira’s Gok-do. Her fists clenched at her sides as she walked, the need to make it to Celine’s and get the problem fixed once and for all.
At the thought of her guardian, a memory returned to her. “It’s what you make of it, Rumi,” Celine had once said to her. “You can either let it consume you. Or fight it, turn the Honmoon golden and fix it.”
But now, with the demon within finally slipping, she couldn’t stop thinking that perhaps it was fate, woven into her soul. And that nasty part of her wanted to let it go.
The two truths kept pulling her apart as she made her way. And before she realised, she was standing outside of Celine's state.
Had time gone by faster than she expected? Or had she suddenly appeared in front of her childhood home? She couldn’t be certain. All she could feel was gratitude to know it would all be over soon.
She stopped at the edge of the quiet path that led to the sacred tree. The Honmoon kept tearing apart and she knew she’d find her close to that sacred place.
The stage lights and noise felt distant now, like they had been part of another world. A nightmare she could still wake up from. The irony didn’t escape her, as Rumi exhaled a laugh intertwined with a sob. Suddenly she was a young kid again, making her way late at night to Celine for her to make it all okay again.
This time, however, things wouldn’t be fixed by her guardian’s comforting arms. She was too far gone.
The gravel path crunched beneath her boots, each step heavier than the last. The quietness pressed in, almost suffocating as she got closer to her destiny.
For a moment the fear almost paralysed her. She didn’t want this. She had tried so hard to stop herself from turning into this, to lift this burden from Celine’s shoulders. But the more she thought of Zoey and Mira’s eyes, once shining so bright, she could only think of saving that light.
She couldn’t escape this now, she had run out of time.
The demon inside whispered that she deserved something else, there were other ways. But she shook her head as though to scatter the thought.
The outline of the old tree came into view, its branches stretching like arms toward the night sky. Celine was there, waiting, her figure calm and steady beneath the leaves.
Rumi slowed. Her breath caught. The words slipped from her mouth before she had the chance to change her mind. A confession of what had gone wrong.
The weight of her Saingeom manifested in her hand. Shame crawled under her skin, the patterns extending once again, grounding her, reminding her there was no other way.
She had tried so hard not to let Celine down, but she was hellbound. This was all for them.
Mira and Zoey’s trust and unwavering love. Celine’s concern and split affection. They had all, in their own way, tried to help her carry her shame for as long as she did. But none of them deserve the danger she was turning into.
Her knees hit the ground before she even thought about it, the soil cold and unyielding. With trembling hands, she raised it above her head, an offering.
I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how, she thought, silently begging for Celine to take the sword.
Her voice cracked as she bowed her head, eyes fixed on the ground as she finally managed the words out. “...before I destroyed what I swore to protect. Please,” she whispered at last. “Do it!” raw and desperate, the demon voice extended over the Honmoon, her words trembling into the night.
For a long moment, only the rustle of leaves answered. Rumi’s chest heaved, shame and fear clawing their way up her throat. She was nothing but a child asking for absolution she didn’t believe she deserved.
Still, she waited for judgement, the shadows of her soul laid bare at Celine’s feet.
"Rumiiiiii," Zoey whined. "Why didn't you tell us how boring this would be?"
"I did." Rumi replied without losing focus on her forms.
"Repeatedly."
"Yeah, Zo," Mira said, "Sorry to burst your bubble but she did say patrol was like, 90% observing like a million times. To which you responded - and I quote - "That's fine, it'll be like a fun team bonding experience.""
Also known as: Zoey's first kill and the path that unwinds from there
No one prepared Zoey for how boring monster fighting could be.
It had been over three hours since going out on patrol, and most of the night had consisted of making loops around downtown and the graveyard. They'd seen more rowdy college students causing trouble than anything supernatural (though there seemed to be something otherworldly about how much frat boys could chug upside down. Zoey shudders and tries not to think about it too hard because she wants to try and enjoy the idea of going to college.) Most nights on patrol were quiet which was…great! Of course it was great. It was a good thing demons weren't crawling around Sunnydale killing people and causing mayhem. That was categorically a good thing, Zoey knew.
But it was also soooooo boring.
She twirled a throwing knife around a finger and tossed it toward a nearby tree where it landed with a dull thunk. Mira popped a bubble between her teeth as she laid on a bench looking up at the sky. Her hair hung toward the ground, swinging gently as she bobbed her head to a song she was humming under her breath while popping chewing gum. Rumi was pacing, as usual, going through sword forms almost automatically.
(also on ao3)
(context)
Zoey sighed and stood up to pull the throwing knife out of the tree. The trunk was littered with small slits and Zoey winced, feeling a little badly for having turned it into swiss cheese. "Rumiiiiii," she whined. "Why didn't you tell us how boring this would be?"
"I did." Rumi replied without losing focus on her forms. "Repeatedly."
"Yeah, Zo," Mira said, "Sorry to burst your bubble but she did say patrol was like, 90% observing like a million times. To which you responded - and I quote - "That's fine, it'll be like a fun team bonding experience.""
Zoey pouts. "Well yeah," she mumbles, "When you put it like that…"
Mira laughs. "You put it like that."
"Well!" Zoey throws up her arms in frustration, "I didn't think it would be this boring."
"Trust me, if every night were this slow, I'd be thrilled."
Mira snorts. "Please. Rumi, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself for ten seconds if you weren't the Slayer."
Huh. That….was actually a really interesting point. "What would you be doing if you weren't the Slayer?" Zoey asks.
Rumi halts mid-form. Her brow furrows for a moment, as if the idea of choice had never occurred to her before. Then she clears her throat and her features smooth out. "I would have become a Watcher."
"Wow, really?" Zoey lights up at the idea - books and research and thousands of years of knowledge at your fingertips - but the flat, almost empty look in Rumi's eyes dims the excitement.
Rumi nods absently. "I was basically born into it."
She said it so casually, like it was no big deal.
Except, it was an extremely big deal. Rumi hardly shared anything about her past. She had walls thicker than LA traffic. It had been killing them.
Her and Mira locked eyes immediately. Be cool, was the unspoken understanding. "Oh yeah?" she asked in what she hoped was a casual, completely lighthearted, not-at-all desperate tone while she held her breath.
Rumi hummed. "My mother was a Slayer."
Zoey almost stabbed herself.
She froze in disbelief. Looked at Mira. Saw the exact same expression. Because…
"What?"
Rumi looked as if she hadn't realized she'd dropped a bombshell the size of a tanker trunk in their laps like it was nothing. She almost looked…surprised. As if not realizing they hadn't already known.
Okay sure, nighttime fun team bonding was to be expected, but this had gotten way deeper than Zoey could have ever imagined. Not that she wasn't appreciative! Rumi had crazy high walls, and to be given a glimpse of what was on the other side felt like a gift of near unparalleled proportions.
"She died. Celine raised me." Rumi has stopped practicing now, sword falling to her side lifelessly as she stares down at an apparently particularly interesting rock by her foot.
"Wait, really?" Mira says. "We knew you guys were close and you're like, her ward, or whatever, but figured that was just a Watcher's Council quirk or something."
Rumi shook her head and barked a dark laugh. "We're actually frowned upon. They wanted me to have a different Watcher when it was discovered I was a Potential. They thought such a personal attachment was…unprofessional."
There was a long stretch of silence before Mira spoke. "That's fucked up."
Rumi hummed again noncommittally. Distantly. Zoey hated how resigned and weary it sounded.
And okay, just because she had never known about demons and monsters until this year doesn't mean she can't hate them with a renewed fiery passion because after walking around the dark for three hours and finally - finally getting into a real conversation with Rumi, who was for-real-opening up - a demon picks now - now! - of all moments to decide to attack.
There's almost no warning when something that looks like an unholy cross between a spider and shi-tzu suddenly drops out of the treetops. The sound that comes out of Mira is something for the history books and Zoey is only a little upset that she wasn't able to get it on camera because she would love to replay that a million times.
The creature skitters in a truly creepy and astonishingly fast way toward them and Mira recovers to ready her weapon, jumping off the bench in a flourish of hair and staff. And Rumi? Well. Whatever vulnerability had been creeping up toward the surface is squashed down immediately as the Slayer snaps to attention.
Zoey can practically hear Rumi growl as her eyes narrow in focus. And really that's what does it - seeing something so soft and delicate be squashed under the heel of duty. The worst part is, Zoey's pretty sure Rumi doesn't even notice. Or mind. And that's pretty darn sad.
Zoey knows a lot about turtles. Some would say that Rumi is like one: is soft inside but with a hard, impenetrable shell and tentative to stick their heads out. But people tend to forget that turtles never actually come out of their shells . It's literally impossible, shells are part of their spine. Sure, they're great domes of defense but really what Zoey thinks is that Rumi is a lobster.
Lobsters' shells don't grow. What happens is as the lobster gets bigger, they have to molt their shells in order to grow a new exoskeleton. While the new shell grows, they're extremely vulnerable. That vulnerability only happens when the creature is literally forced to.
The problem is, Rumi will never shed her shell. She can't afford to - her life has literally depended on it. The past few months in Sunnydale have been good for her, Zoey knows, but have also come with a risk that she knows Celine - and Rumi herself - is hesitant about. But now, with her and Mira, Zoey hopes Rumi will feel safe enough to finally leave her shell behind. Only then can she grow into the beautiful, strong lobster she's meant to be.
…Okay fine, she may have taken the metaphor too far, but can you blame her? It's Rumi. They might have only known each other for a relatively short amount of time but it feels bigger than that. It felt like they were always meant to find each other. Call her corny, but it feels like fate. Which is something she’s more akin to believing in now given that she knows the supernatural exists. So why not choose to believe in something good about it?
And now, this rare lobster-growing opportunity that had been presented on a golden platter had been ruined and Zoey is so pissed that she throws a blade as hard as she can toward the biggest eye in the middle of the spider-thing. To her shock, it goes in far too smoothly for Zoey's stomach to not turn as it sinks in like a knife into soft butter.
The creature screeches, a loud, piercing cry, and all three of them wince at the awful sound. Hands over the ears don't help block out much sound and Zoey almost stabs herself again, nearly forgetting that a second throwing knife was in her other hand.
In true spider fashion, its legs shrivel up underneath the body as the monster dies. Silence blissfully returns and they drop their hands away from their ears. Mira walks a few steps toward where the fuzzy creature dropped and nudges it with the base of her staff. It wiggles, oddly jelly-like, but doesn't move. Mira turns back, looking at her stunned. Zoey shrieks and jumps, triumphant.
Holy shit.
"Holy shit," Mira breathes, an awed grin pulling on her cheek.
"Holy shit!" Zoey yells because holy shit, she just killed a demon.
She'd never felt so….capable. And strong. Her body practically hummed with excitement. It was heady and addicting and wow, is this what it felt like for Rumi? How could she not relish being a Slayer if this feeling becomes practically second nature. If Zoey could live like this forever, she would.
Proof of the months of training laid out right in front of her, dead on the ground, and the thrill and satisfaction of discovering that all that work had sunk in enough to start to become instinct was….wow.
She defended herself. She defended them. She was useful.
"Well done, Zoey," Rumi gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and Zoey was already riding high in the moment, but the proud smile on Rumi's face sent her straight to the stratosphere. Warmth curls in her gut and all Zoey wants to do is see that look again.
Zoey, it turned out, was kind of great at parkour.
Gymnastics classes from elementary school combined with street fluidity and balance from skateboarding honed by a literal superhero and a superhero trainer? Recipe for success, if you'd ask her.
It was really astounding what could happen in a year, Zoey would reflect. Mira was practically lethal with quarterstaffs as her graceful dancing and athleticism was channeled into distance combat. Staffs seemingly floated across her body in blurry arches as she spun. Zoey, Rumi, and Celine would throw tennis balls and raw eggs trying to hit Mira, who would improve so much in a matter of months that they stopped wasting money buying eggs because she'd knock every one of them down and it got really gross to try and clean up.
Alleyways were Zoey's playgrounds along with actual playgrounds, of course. They were perfect obstacle courses for speedrunning. They'd time her running along rooftops in the downtown business area - after dark, of course, in the dead middle of the night to avoid suspicion- leaping across ledges and down fire escapes, flipping off dumpsters to the ground, all while aiming at pre-placed targets on the way down.
She went from hitting almost nothing to all of them with almost effortless ease within a year.
Celine mused she would have to come up with new training methods as the girls grew into competent fighters in their own right.
And Rumi?
She was there for every stumble, every fall, every bruise, every miss. Ready with open arms to catch them, ice packs and bandages, words of gentle and patient instruction or reassurance, comfort, and snacks.
They became fluent in unspoken Rumi expressions: the way her face would fold with worry, brighten with elation, crumple with empathy, bounce with anticipation, breathe with patience, explode with joy, and beam with pride.
Honestly, if the work wasn't satisfying and challenging enough on its own, Zoey would have done it for Rumi alone. To earn that smile. To make her proud. And she knows Mira felt the same.
Being The Slayer seemed like a pretty shit gig, superpowers aside, so she and Mira took the challenge as a point of pride to take even an ounce of the weight that lay on Rumi's slim (but strong. Holy shit, was she strong) shoulders, and replaced it with something lighter. Whether it was fighting monsters or battling for control of the remote during actual team bonding sleepovers, the three of them created their own brand of normalcy amidst danger and literal chaos of evil.
One rule in the huntrix household is "nobody shall ever show frozen to rumi" because both mira and zoey know she'd imprint on elsa like a 4 years old. The experience could be kind of cathartic to her but tbh they don't want to hear her belt let it go from their roof at 3am after her regularly scheduled nightly nightmare-induced panic attack, thank you very much
Do you think Elsa is closer to her mom than her dad?
I don't think we have enough information to determine that. But personally I don't think so.
I think Elsa aligned herself primarily with duty and therefore looked to her father. Her father also is the one shown to have attempted to help her control her powers.
She may have loved her mother so much, and didn't want to upset her by pushing her away or not being able to interact in a way that they both would have wanted. It may have hurt her to see her mother. With her father, she could at least make him proud in what knowledge she gained about the kingdom or ruling, academics, etc. With her mother I'd imagine she only wanted to physically and emotionally be with her, and she couldn't.
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