DTIYS/WTIYS here! Thank you @/sleepykai32 on X for this beautiful art! Want to join? Draw your own version of this piece or write a scene based on it, and either reblog this post with it or @ us when posting it! We look forward to seeing what you create from this fantastic work!
Okay, this art was just too cute for me to not write a scene for it. And by 'scene' I mean full 1800 word fic đ
Thanks sleepykai32 for the art and @zoemirazine for sharing it on tumblr!
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"IT'S HERE!!!" Zoey couldn't contain her excited squeal as pulled something from the 'Huntrix - Personal' mailroom bin. Crushing the package to her chest she squealed again as she danced in place. "It's here it's here IT'S HERE!!!!"
She had been waiting forever for this and now- now she could hardly believe that it was really truly finally here!!!
Waving a quick good-bye to the nonplussed mailroom staff, Zoey zipped to the elevator, whizzed through the doors the second they opened on an intern returning from a coffee run, and mashed the button for the penthouse.
Humming an allegro ditty as the elevator rose, Zoey rocked back and forth on her heels, excitement bubbling like soda fizz. She watched the numbers climb, the package- the wonderful, amazing, she can't believe it finally came package- clutched tight in her arms, already planning to rocket to her room the very second those doors opened and devote her gloriously empty afternoon to ooh-ing and aah-ing over its contents.
And, best of all, she'd have complete and utter privacy: Rumi was at a board meeting and Mira had grumbled her way out the door before sunrise for a photo shoot (the director was apparently 'a visionary,' but Zoey seriously doubted Mira would agree to work with her again since she was, just as apparently, an early bird). Neither of them were supposed to be back until late in the afternoon, so she was guaranteed to come home to an empty penthouse.
Admittedly, such complete and total alone-ness wasn't something she usually craved, especially not from Mira; she loved sharing things with her girlfriend and would love to share this, butâŚ
She winced at the alcohol sting of the memory of the day she'd made the mistake of bringing a Sunlight Sisters zine to school, as caustic as when it was fresh.
Yeah, it was best she was alone.
Which she would be. So, back to fantasizing.
She was just debating if one of her shin-kal would be able to slice through the tape or if she'd have to hunt up some scissors (she thinks she has a pair in her desk, but did she put them back after opening that new headset? Even odds she didn'tâŚ) when the elevator stopped and the doors whooshed open, dinging a fanfare. "WHOO HOO!" She crowed as she flew into the penthouse, barley stopping to kick off her shoes. "Let's get this party started!"
"Sweet. Am I invited?"
She may as well have ran into a brick wall, the wind was knocked out of her that fast by the sight of Mira unfolding herself from where she'd been curled up on the couch with an almost-finished novel.
"M-Mira!" Zoey squeaked, having at least the presence of mind to whip the package behind her back. Heat- not the nice rosy kind she usually got from being surprised by her girlfriend- rose up her neck. "What- you're back early."
"Director decided she got everything she wanted. Said she'd never had someone who needed so little direction to capture her vision." She flipped her hair, striking a pose equal parts smug and sexy. "Perks of being a natural."
Zoey swallowed, nodding, feeling her face growing redder. She didn't think about it much, but there were some downsides of having a smoking hot girlfriend, especially when you were already being boiled alive by embarrassment.
Mira glanced at Zoey, chuckled at what she clearly assumed was exclusively the work of that hair-flip. "Thought we could spend the afternoon together." Tossing her book, she climbed over the back of the couch, clearing it easily with her long legs. "Make a date of it. Grab some lunch, hit up a noraebang, swing by the bath house."
It honestly sounded like the perfect afternoon, and any other day Zoey would be dragging Mira to the door, rattling off a list of her top five suggestions for where they should eat while pulling up the directions to the hot new noraebang place she'd heard about. ButâŚtoday wasn't any other day, it was package day, andâŚshe really just wanted to spend it in her room with her box and the amazing-ness inside.
Not that she could tell Mira that.
"That sounds really great, Mir. ButâŚumâŚ" She shifted from foot to foot, scrambling for- not an excuse, certainly not a lie- but something when Mira spoke again.
"Or we can stay in if you'd rather do that. Maybe watch that documentary you've been raving about. The one with the jumping sharks."
"Makos," Zoey rasped out.
Mira nodded, lips soft with a smile. "Yeah, those. Just whatever you want."
Zoey wilted. Even though it wasn't Mira's intent, she immediately felt worse. Here her girlfriend was, trying to plan out an afternoon together, suggesting things she knew Zoey would enjoy, and what was she doing? Trying to think of a way to blow her off. Some days she really didn't think she deserved Mira.
"Hey, you alright, Zo?" Mira tilted her head to a side as she looked the shorter girl up and down. "Something bothering you? And-" She paused and craned her neck. "What's behind your back?"
Zoey sighed; there really was no hiding things from Mira. Best to just admit defeat and barrel through her impending valley of humiliation. She presented the package to Mira as though it were the evidence of the most shameful crime. "This came today," she said in a gray tone, the earlier joy she felt over its arrival gone. The Honmoon chimed as she pulled out a shin-kal and morosely sliced through the tape with a quiet chuk. A smattering of packing peanuts fell to the floor as she pulled out the prize she'd been anticipating for so long: a glossy magazine-type publication.
"'B-Sides?'" Mira's eyes widened out of their squint shen she saw the entwined 'Z' and 'M' on the cover. "Is this some sort of magazine?"
"It's a fanzine," Zoey mumbled, shrinking under Mira's confused gaze. "AboutâŚus."
Mira blinked. Looked from the zine to Zoey, then back. Blinked again.
"AâŚwhat?"
"A fanzine. Some of our fans who ship us-" Mira huffed, amused as always by the fans inadvertently supporting what the label had mandated be kept secret "- made a bunch of art of us and wrote some fanfiction and put it together to makeâŚthis." She cringed, eyes on her socked feet curling against the floor. The sneers and mocking laughs of her old classmates roared in the silence as she waited for Mira's reaction.
"Cool."
What?
Zoey's jaw hung slack as she looked up at Mira, nodding appreciatively at the zine. "YouâŚreally? You don't think it's weird?"
"Well, I mean, a little," she shrugged, giving Zoey a smirk. "And a little weirder that you bought one, but more cool than anything. I think it's really sweet that our fans are so into the idea of us together. AndâŚthat you are, too."
Mira really was the biggest softie.
Like that, all Zoey's worries evaporated. A blizzard of packing peanuts flew around the girls as Zoey flung her arms around Mira. "AwâŚMir!"
"Don't suppose you'd want to look through it together?" Mira asked, a budding smile in her words.
Zoey pulled away with a gasp, face shining in a way that made her mailroom elation subdued by comparison. "Oh my gosh, yes! Gaja gaja gaja!" Grabbing her girlfriend by the arm she tugged her down the hall, stepping on cotton-candy clouds. Soon they were settled in Zoey's room on a nest of pillows at the base of her bed, Zoey snuggled up against Mira's chest. Early afternoon sun pranced through the windows as they perused the zine, Zoey commentating animatedly on the art and fic as Mira listened with her usual steady interest.
A tickling, fluttering feeling sparkled through Zoey as she flipped through the zine, not alone like she'd envisioned but with Mira's hand resting comfortably across her midriff and the weight of her chin atop Zoey's head.
Ever since that day when she'd made the mistake of bringing something of her online fandom into the offline world, she'd been careful to keep that part of her hidden. Zines were for private places, she'd learned in the school cafeteria as even the not-so-popular girls mocked the paperback proof of the extent of her Sunlight Sisters obsession, not her backpack or anywhere else someone else could see. Even after she'd traded the life of a bullied teen for a beloved popstar, the zines had stayed in a corner of her closet where not even Sussie's ever-prying eyes would spot them.
It had hurt, sure, but she'd accepted it and continued to read the zines in secret as if they were not safe-for-work. Sharing a zine with someone who was physically next to her had been strictly the stuff of fantasy.
And yet here she was, a zine splayed for the world to see in her lap and her insanely-cool girlfriend seated behind her. Not laughing or even wrinkling her nose in quiet contempt but enjoying and appreciating the passion project before her, each brush of her breath across Zoey's neck causing her heart to leap like a mako shark out of the waves.
She never thought she'd find someone who loved this part of her. And even if she had-
"Why do people always pair flower shops with tattoo artists?" Mira asked as Zoey turned the page to an AU fic depicting the same setup as three different pieces of fanart.
"It's a trope," Zoey replied with the air of an expert (which she may as well be, considering she'd been doing the fanfiction thing since before she got her period). "You can thank 2014 tumblr for that one."
Mira hummed, already running her eyes over the opening lines of text. "Suits us. I can see you being a tattoo artist."
"Not a florist?" Zoey twisted around just enough to catch Mira's eye.
"Considering what happened when you plant-sat for Rumi, no."
"It was only one plant!" Zoey protested. "Or- okay, well, two. And they only died a little."
"How does something die 'a little?'"
"Not sure, but that's what those plants did."
Mira laughed, the sound reverberating pleasantly through Zoey's back as she turned back to the zine.
"You know, I thought of writing an AU like this for the zine," Zoey tapped the page and stuck out her lip in a little pout. "But they didn't pick my application."
Mira stilled, processing what Zoey said. "You applied to write for a zine about yourself?"
"Well, yeah, why not?" Zoey gestured lightly, then cringed, pulling her shoulders up to her ears. "Is thatâŚweird?"
"Yes." Before Zoey could say anything else, Mira leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "But it just makes me love you more."
Zoey made a squeak of surprise, then turned around so their lips met, returning the kiss. Warmth bloomed in her as the Honmoon sung around them.
-Even if she had, nothing could have compared to this.
I don't think Celine has spent any time in blender yet. Maybe her protecting baby Rumi from third light. Or present day girls a non demon threat. Love some protective good mom Celine.
@counterpunches and I got talking about Celine with a tiny bean who still needs her for everything and what she does (or doesnât do and has to live with) when the honmoon cries out and having to choose between going after demons/protecting innocents and leaving Rumi alone or with a sitter (and who would that be??) and the inherent angst of being a hunter who is supposed to protect the world and also a new mother whose whole world now fits in her arms
Hey@zzzzz-cff, I love your premise and the resulting spinoffs of Gumiho!Celine, esp the Fox Bead idea. Went down the rabbit hole and the plot bunnies exploded. It's become a whooole thing.
Hoping it's ok to get it down on paper, maybe the Internet as a fic. Let me know if you're interested I would be happy to tag you and of course I will give credit where it is due đ
Right now it's rough ideas and plot points that popped into my head, with a good bit of world building (which I love to do). Features a ton of other countries mythologies and creatures.
Let me know what you think!
IâM SO SO SORRY @wr1terman1a IâVE BEEN GONE WAY TOO LONG AH IâM REPLYING SO LATE
You can absolutely do what youâd like with the idea! Happy to hear that youâre enjoying it.
Also gonna take this opportunity to just let people know that theyâre free to have fun with the stuff that are from me. I would appreciate a shout out cause Iâve love to see what is made from it. Especially because I just started writing not too long ago and fics are still difficult for me. Just a heads up that you probably wonât see frequent, lengthy stories from me like other people on this app. So, if anyone wants to take these and write with them, thatâd be amazing.
Been ruminating on how similar the crosshairs of a camera and the scope of a gun are. And how delightful an idea might be that a character would use photography to curb the instinct to kill.
Two perpendicular lines that when centered on a person could mean capturing a beautiful moment in life or aiming for someoneâs death.
What might trigger-happy fingers do?
Take photos instead of shots?
Perhaps red dots that used to aim for heads become red dots that start recordings.
Click of a shutter rather than the click of a coffinâs latch.
Personally, Iâm just wondering if this should be about Zoey (cause sheâs from America) or Celine (cause her struggles with Rumi are so fun). Granted, itâs extremely unlikely that theyâd have guns on their persons since guns are illegal in Korea, but the situation is amusing to me.
1. Imagining a situation where Zoey finds out Rumi is a demon early on in their idol careers and sheâs struggling to figure out whether she has to kill this âdemon.â But, Rumi is one of the sweetest people she knows so she really really doesnât want to. The rapper justifies herself by saying sheâll wait and capture a photo of Rumi and her patterns just to make sure sheâs not crazy.
Except, when Zoey keeps getting really pretty photos of this girl who sometimes gets flour all over her face, or crashes headfirst into doors, or laughs with the brightness of a thousand suns, she just ends up falling in love. Juxtapose this with Mira being their visual and is internally pouting at the fact that the rapper always takes so many photos of Rumi.
2. Or, Celine struggling to avoid killing Rumi when the infant first becomes under her care. Honestly, thereâs no way that the Hunter would actually kill the child cause sheâs Miyeongâs, but empty hands feel dangerous. She ends up carrying around Miyeongâs old camera, meticulously cared for but still worn from use. The other Hunter was always one to try and capture everything in life. The good, the bad, the ugly, etc.
So, over the years Celine ends up carrying this camera like a weapon on hand and takes photos whenever she feels uneasy. It helps that Rumi always takes this as a sign of love. But for the mentor, every photo becomes a moment where she didnât commit murder. Paper bullet casings. She wonât realize that sheâs actually been smiling at the photos sheâs taken until much later.
Cameras. Or guns. Doesnât matter.
The lens will be blurred over by tears in the end.
ok but imagine. (gwiho celine au been making me sickđđ)
celine is rumiâs bio mom. and while giving birth, the mentors find her
they arenât wasteful, they know the value of a demon child.
they know how to use a child to break its parent
imagine Celine watching her mentors tell her soulmates to hurt her child
imagine her standing there, dead eyed in a way miyeong and third have never seen since they learned her soul was on a thread around their mentorâs neck
imagine the fox kitâs cries matching Celineâs when shes forced into her fox form
imagine Mi yeong seeing how dead celine looks, watching what she doesnt know is her child, being tortured by the only people she can love or trust because she was told to STAND. STILL.
imagine miyeong seeing the look on their mentors face as they watch celine get smaller and emptier while theyre ordering another attack on the crying kit
and her sending a weapon through her neck. shutting her orders to celine for life as she forces the tortured woman to watch the other parts of her soul kill the only thing that brought life back to her
the bead falling.
mi yeong picking it up, and pressing it to celineâs chest with a whisper of âit is touching youâ
imagine the way celine would run to baby rumi, would start crying like she hasnt been able to since her mother was killed the way she almost had to watch her kit die
the way she cradles her injured, terrified kit to her, like she never once got in her childhood after she was stolen, while the loves of her life watch her break
this thought made me cry while making a chicken mushroom bake bc im so sick over this au so enjoy my mushroom flavored tearsđ
First of all, I absolutely must say that the wonderful concept of the fox bead being used to control Celine is @fakelawyerbug's brainchild so I can't take credit for that :)
Second of all... OW??? ow ow ow (I like your spiky words)
Not the mentors taking her kit and using Rumi against Celine. Forget the bead, this is what's truly killing her inside. They don't even need to use it. The mentors will just punish the child if Celine acts out.
Celine has never wanted to kill humans before she all this. She had been content to stay out of this war and live a peaceful life with her newborn kit. So, how could this have happened?
Her child's sobs spear straight into her heart like knives and she can only watch.
She is now dead inside, a ghost of her spirit all that remains.
But even ghosts of myth can become vengeful enough to drag the living down by their throats to die with them.
Every day that passes where she hears her child cry in pain, a blood lust grows deep inside the space where her fox bead used to be. Hatred boiling hot and ruthless in her veins, its only restraint a short command.
This is how you create monsters. This is how you foster death in your home.
~
Miyeong was told that she'd be able to create music, be surrounded by music even, when she was told that she was a Hunter. She'd be able to unite people through beautiful melodies that melt the hearts and ears of everyone listening.
But all she hears now are screams. Screams from young kits and screams from a woman sent out to war. Pain given by her own hands.
It's not... It's not right. This couldn't be what she was destined to do. No manner of peace won for humanity could be worth this. This has to end.
It takes too long for her and Third to gather up the courage to swing their weapons at the mentors closest to them and it is only through the element of surprise that Miyeong hits her mark. The neck.
Miyeong snatches the bead out of her air and slams it into Celine's chest before her mentor's body has even hit the floor, a whisper all she can manage as she says, "It is touching you."
And she watched the gumiho gasps, inhaling as if she had been drowning underwater. The fox demon spares her no mind as it rushes forward towards the kit.
All Miyeong can do now is distract the remaining mentors who were fighting off Third and her axe.
But she hears Celine sob hysterically as she goes to grab the kit, "My baby! Oh, my baby. I'm so sorry! I'm so so sorry for everything! My baby!!"
And Miyeong's heart breaks into worthless pieces as she realizes, Oh... that had been her child. She had been hurting the gumiho's child this entire time. Her eyes burn.
Celine checks on Rumi, who's clutching onto her mother for dear life, somehow just knowing that this gumiho was her mom. And all the mother can do is cry because how is this the first time that she gets to hold her child?
But despite the happiness that is blooming in her chest from getting to hold her kit again, she has not forgotten the rage that has been simmering in her chest for so long.
And the gumiho turns around towards the elder Hunters, eyes glowing viciously bright and golden, as she sets her sight right on the necks of the two remaining mentors. Celine licks her fangs and pulls in Rumi closer to her chest.
She'll only need one arm to shred those Hunters into pieces.
(Celine will worry about Miyeong and Third later).
Or pens. Or colored pencils. Or crayons. Or markers. Or anything that'll let her pour out her heart into the world with her own two hands.
She loves technology, but there is nothing better than this. To write every stroke of every letter with everything that she is and everything that she has.
No clicks of a button. No presses on a screen. Just her and her pencil.
On paper, she can make her thoughts flow and make order out of all her turbulent, mental storms because it grounds her. There is weight to the words she puts down and every line that she writes is intentional.
It is genuine, more than anything that she has ever said (or not said).
This is how she writes music. And she will never lose what it feels like to hold a pencil in her hand, no matter how much the world moves on from it.
But it's been days after the world fell apart and she's trying to hold a pencil in her hand like she's always done, but... it just hurts.
It. Just. Hurts. Now.
~
Holding her shin-kals and her pencils used to make her the happiest person on the planet.
Just small things in her grasp that held the power to change the world and bring life back into it. Despite their size, she knows the things that she is capable of with them, striking knives and fear into the hearts of her enemies.
But then... the world breaks and Zoey realizes that she can sear pain right into the hearts of her loved ones just the same with her pencil and her words. No knives.
The power in her hands that she used to be so proud of were used to hurt someone she loved so deeply. Streams of hate had poured out onto hundreds of pages by her own hand and spoken out into the world with her own voice. And she thinks about how easily her mind could conjure up words of derision and disdain, all eagerly laced with violence in each flick of her pen.
So, it comes to this: Zoey kneeling on the floor of her room in the aftermath of her own self-made storm, surrounded by the physical remains of all the previous times she has poured her soul onto paper.
There are rivers of graphite that streak across torn page after page that have all been shredded into a sea of dead trees. Broken halves of pencils float like wreckage out in this endless ocean of written animosity, the remnants of her heart torn into pieces and thrown far away from her.
The rapper looks at her hands, at how they've become riddled with cuts from tearing into as many pages as she could. Such tiny wounds that don't even bleed but sting all the same. Though it compares nothing to the all-consuming ache in her chest.
Her hands fall back to her sides as the tears begin to fall freely in waves.
~
This is how Rumi finds her. Tears still streaming down Zoey's face as the rapper gazes out into nothing, frozen to the floor on her knees.
The singer can only run to the girl on the ground, trying to figure out what was going on. Was she hurt? Was she in pain?
And she's calling the rapper's name, but she receives no response. Only more sobs.
Rumi goes to cup Zoey's face with both of her hands, freaking out but wanting to comfort the girl through her tears, wiping the streaks with her thumbs as best she can.
Why won't Zoey talk to her?
What do you do when a person who lives through words just goes deathly silent?
~
Zoey doesn't want to ever let out another sound. Another word. She doesn't want to write. She doesn't want to sing. She doesn't want to talk.
Never has she been so scared of all letting out the words in her mind.
But Rumi's holding her so carefully and talking to her so softly that it makes everything feel like it'll be okay even though it's not. And when she feels a hand rubbing her back that just can't be the singer's because they were holding her face, Zoey knows that Mira's there too.
There's so much she could say. How sorry she is. How much she cares. How much she loves them.
But she can't. She can't talk. Not right now.
So for now, Zoey reaches out and latches onto whatever piece of clothing she can of the two people she loves the most, even though her hands burn with all her wounds.
And she tries to convey everything she's feeling through the desperate, shaking grasps she has on them because if they're here, it must be okay for her to say...
Please stay. With me. I need you here.
She gets two pairs of arms that wrap around her just as tightly, with all the love they can give.
(@arashisterrenâs tags on this mirrorverse concept reblog)
Mirror!Rumi is shivering and shuddering as Celine keeps touching her, talking about how she cut her hair for this, honestly, please say sheâs been wanting to do that before?
âThe fuck did you do?â Mira hisses at her, pulling Celine away by the shoulder as Zoey advances on Rumi.
Celineâs too startled to stop them before Zoey has Rumi by the face, and then sheâs pulling out of Miraâs grip to stop this, still half-convinced this is some poorly thought out scheme, it has to be, please
And ah. Yeah. Thereâs a brawl in the courtyard
(Celine goes downâitâs two to one, and both of her opponents have been taught to never hesitate in the face of demonic influence, even when it looks like something they love. Especially when it looks like something they love. Get her restrained first, think later)
Celine slips out, slips away. Sheâs fought too many times alone against packs of demons to lose to two people she trained.
(And sheâs spent too long fearing what they could do to Rumi to let these twisted mirrors hurt her because they think that Celine is someâsome cursed version of whatever woman they knew)
She doesnât bother taking the time to be gentle with Rumi, not when itâs survival on the lineâno, she gets the chains off this girl who isnât hers and she takes her hand and she says, âWe run nowâ
Oh boy I'm imagining Rumi thinking this is some kind of training exercise or something. Like her hunters are learning to track demons and she's supposed to be the rabbit.
Or complication for Celine, Rumi thinks this is some sort of test to see if she will behave and knows The Rules and will follow The Rules even if it's Celine telling her to break them.
I was definitely thinking more the formerâor even, just, like, Rumi knows on some level the biggest rule is âdonât piss Celine offâ and that means listening, even if Celineâs acting erratic and off and doing things that should totally get people hurt in taking a demon out unchained
Meanwhile Celine trying to figure out what the differences between the two worlds are and if Rumi is even a legally existent person andâoh, shit, Rumi do you know how to read?
(Rumi does not)
(Mira and Zoey are also very aware that when their Celine comes back theyâre in for a world of hurt for fucking up like this)
(Any complaints or requests for financial compensation should be addressed to @secondtolastrow for starting this)
But Mirrorverse AU where normal Celine (was maybe not the best parent but 100% loves Rumi and would never intentionally harm her) swap places with mirror!Celine (sees Rumi as a weapon and a "tame demon" and nothing more);
Main!Celine wakes up at the hanok wondering why (and when that got built) there's a kennel behind the house and why there's a cattle prod hanging outside the door.
Opening the door and seeing a demonic looking Rumi sleeping on a floor mat, chained to the floor with a collar, muzzled, and hands shackled behind her.
Main!Celine going, "what the fuck" which wakes Rumi up and Rumi is suddenly cowering away from her.
And mirror!Zoey and mirror!Mira come up behind main!Celine (mirror!Rumi cowers even more) and is like, yeah we don't know what's causing this so we put it back in its kennel for you to fix.
(Main!Celine going wtf wtf wtf)
Meanwhile;
Mirror!Celine wakes up at the hanok, Rumi and the girls show up to finally have that talk with Celine post-Idol Awards and mirror!Celine immediately goes, "why is that thing unmuzzled?"
And the girls immediately go, who the fuck is this and where is Celine?
And anyways;
Shenanigans from main!Celine trying to get mirror!Rumi into her world while trying to pretend to be evil;
The girls from the main verse trying to find main!Celine and getting increasingly fed up with mirror!Celine
Celine snaps at mirror!Zoey and Mira immediatelyââGet out!â
Itâs a bad habit of hers, one sheâs working on, and she knows she should get a visible wince from Zoey and a pause from Mira for it. Instead these duplicates just share a glance and, shrugging, step out, like this is completely expected behavior
(Mirror!Rumi is a little smaller than her counterpart, muscle packed a little closer to the bone, body fat next to none. Itâs how she holds herself that really makes her look it, though, head ducking, shoulders curling, every movement afraid to take up space)
She drops down to her knees and Rumi freezes, gaze fixed on her.
âRumi?â she says, careful, gentle, and if anything, that makes it worse. âIâm not going to hurt you; you can breathe.â
The sound of air dragging through the muzzle is painful.
(And the demon is terrified, because the only time it can remember Celine being gentle, it was so near death that she thought it might not make it, and it doesnât want to be disobedient, doesnât want to die, but it just canât.)
âThank you, Rumi,â Celine says, after a minute or two, when it seems like Rumi is a little bit calmer, when her own mind has settled into the mad, adrenaline-fueled state of fuck it, this is what weâve got. âYouâre doing well.â
Rumi shivers and pushes away as much as her chains will allow and then freezes. Like she expects there to be a negative response.
Celine does not give her one.
Finally. Finally. ââŚWhat is âRumiâ?â
(Meanwhile, mirror!Celine has been tied to a chair with duct tape and is currently being checked for, like, possession or something but⌠hey where did she get that scar?
"What do you mean keep it muzzled?" Zoey asks. She sounds horrified. As if the thought of a demon being made safe to handle was, somehow, a new concept.
Maybe here it was, Celine muses, staring at the demon who was whisper-arguing with Mira as if it had an opinion worth listening to. Clearly the her that once existed in this world trained her girls too gently if the way this Mira was listening to it was anything to go by.
It was good. If they could be so easily misled by a demon, then it should be simple to convince them of the correct way of doing things.
She would leave this world safer before she returned to hers.
"Why do you sound so shocked?" Celine asks. "You know why one muzzles a wild dog, yes?"
***
Celine takes a moment to collect herself. Don't be so quick to make assumptions, her mentor had always told her. For all she knew, this girl had simply been called by a different name. After all, hadn't she spent a hundred days mulling over different names before deciding on Rumi?
(She wonders when hope becomes delusion.)
"Rumi is a name, aegi," Celine says. "Is your name something different?"
It swallows at the tenderness, at whatever game this is.
The demon does not have a name. The demon does not have a name, because the demon does not have an identityâit is a thing, a black hole, a hunger restrained by whatever means necessary.
âNames are for people, Master,â it tells Celine, with perfect certainty of what she wants.
(Demons cannot be good, but they can be⌠skilled, it supposes. They are meant to be skilled at seeing what people want. Using it.
The demon is very attuned to these things when it comes to Celineâto Zoey and Mira as well. It isnât very skilled at telling what it wants, though. Even at concerts, when it sees the souls of the crowd ignite from the wings, feels an urgency swell up, it doesnât. Know.)
Celine stops. Right where she is. Not the dangerous stillness that precedes a blow, somehow, butâstill. It trembles as it waits for one nonetheless.
âExcuse me,â she says.
It waits against the wall, trying not to breathe as she steps out. Its eyes close to visions of pain, of the briskness with which Celine always conducts herself in correcting its behavior.
Instead, it hears the sound of Celineâs fist slamming into the kennel wall and then her crying out. And then, almost, her cryingâa pair of breathless hiccups.
âOkay,â Celine says to herself. âOkay. You are awake. Start with the body: is she injured, is she hungry, is she clean.â
âJesus fuck,â says Mira.
Celine almost smilesâitâs the exact same reaction her Mira had on first seeing the demon, thinking it looked like a girl her own age.
"Yes, that's what you said the first time too. And then you learned better than to trust appearances when it comes to its kind." Celine says this breezily, as if she were talking about the weather instead of the demon perched on the coffee table, staring at her as if she had grown monstrous.
The look makes something in her chest burn -- how dare that thing look at her like that? As if it were in a place to judge anyone?
"You thought it could learn to behave, that it's nature could be trained out of it," Celine says, staring straight at the demon. "I had to pry her off you with a cattle prod and you never made the mistake of treating it like a person again."
At this, the demon lost its nerve. Its eyes dart to Mira before it takes a shaky breath and stands up.
"I need a moment," it says, before making its way down the hall.
Before it had turned its back to them, Celine saw the tightness around its mouth and eyes; the paleness of its face.
Good, she thinks. Someone needs to remind you of what you are.
***
First, injuries.
On a cursory glance, the girl didn't seem hurt -- though Celine had tended to enough, and had been tended to enough, to know that the eye was a very inaccurate tool. But the girl was able to curl into herself. Not in the way an injured animal curls into itself, but loose, as if she were simply waiting.
She supposed she was glad that the...people here weren't so cruel as to deprive the girl of clothing -- as minimal as a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants were, they were at least something. Unfortunately, it meant she couldn't see if there were any injuries underneath them.
Carefully, Celine kneels in front of the girl.
"I need you to be honest with me, okay?" Celine says, trying to catch the girl's eye. "Are you hurt anywhere? Did anyone injure you?"
The girl shakes her head. Pauses. Shifts her wrists a little with a slightly questioning tint to her fearful expression.
âIâm going to look at them,â Celine says, and waits until she gets some kind of acknowledgment before she slides around to pick up the girlâs hand.
Thereâs redness under the shackle, and old scar tissue, but at least no current open sores.
âThank you for telling me,â she says, coming back around, making sure they can see each otherâs faces. âIâll get you some lotion, okay? And Iâll find the key to let you out of those.â
Shakily, the girl nods. She looks like she isnât often âlet out of thoseâ.
âWhen did you last eat?â Celine asks, careful to avoid the subjective Are you hungry?
ââŚLast night?â the girl offers, hesitantly. âYour Hunters have beenâtheyâve been managing upkeep well. Notââ
She cuts herself off, cringing, like she expects to be struck for speaking out of turn.
(Or maybe like Celineâs face was twisting in disgust.)
//
âYou never let it hurt Zoey, though. You made sure to show her what it was before she could make your mistakes.â Celine looks from Mira to Zoey, tilts her head slightly. âIâm sure she protects you here, too, doesnât she?â
âIâm pretty sure if I thought all humans came with cattle prods, Iâd bite too,â Mira tells her, all but shivering with rage.
âProblem at hand,â Zoey points out, though sheâs pale and uncomfortable and shifting where she stands. âDid you switch places with our Celine on purpose? Do you know how you switched places with our Celine?â
Celine gives them a tired look. Why in the world would she want to fix this world when sheâs already got enough problems on her own?
