Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was just after lunch and three empty cups of ramyeon sat on the coffee table of their living room surrounded by an infinite number of snacks from their last convenience store run. Everything needed for "becoming one with the couch," as Zoey sagely explained when Mira drily asked whether six different kinds of crab chips were really necessary. The third week of Huntrix’s three-month hiatus, after finally putting together the final touches on their next comeback promotion, was full of everything the three girls had hoped it would be: absolutely nothing at all. 

Rumi swiped up, bored with a random video about how to ensure the perfect fishtail liner look and watched bonelessly as it transitioned into a split-screen of someone speed-running a playthrough of minecraft while a disembodied voice explained an ‘Am I the Asshole’ Reddit thread where, big surprise, John (32M) was, in fact, the asshole and also probably going to be receiving divorce papers sometime soon. 

Still, her eyes tracked the text crossing the screen, a robotic voice buzzing in her one earbud, as she simply enjoyed the doomscrolling and the feel of Mira’s thigh underneath her head and Zoey’s toes trailing aimlessly against her calf. 

The bubbly rapper laid stomach down on the couch next to her, her hands holding up her face, phone propped against a pillow. She was watching a docuseries on some American controversy about a strange man in sequin shirts that liked tigers but had also killed his wife? Moe Exotica or something? Rumi had tried to sit through an episode earlier in the week and keep track of Zoey’s speedrun of the story and different theories but it was honestly too hard to stay focused whenever Zoey got that... look on her face. The excited, focused one that left her eyes sparkling and entire figure animated. The best Rumi could do was smile as she got lost in the way Zoey’s hands fluttered and flew at the pace she spoke, each delicate finger dragging her attention away from the maknae's words.

It had been happening more and more lately. Rumi getting lost around the other two popstars. Every moment with them was a small joy, the kind she hoarded desperately.

(The memory of the two raising their weapons at her, the betrayal she had caused them to feel written across their faces, played perpetually in her mind.)    

Rumi shook herself out of the memory as she heard Mira snort from above her. One of the lithe girl’s long arms stretched across the back of their massive couch as the other held up her own phone, the sound kept hidden by the fashionista’s bright red headphones. One pad was pushed slightly askew, however, left open for Zoey and herself to know that she was listening. Sunlight beamed from their window-wall and struck her makeupless face, highlighting the softness that so few ever got to see on Huntrix’s fiercest member. 

‘Beautiful,’ Rumi felt her face flush and her patterns tingle as the thought bloomed, another wildflower in the field that was her love for Mira and Zoey. Another moment she wanted to live inside of.    

Everything felt so perfect in that moment. Her patterns glowed a soft pink in the daylight, an outward reflection of the joy that was nestled so gently behind her sternum. It bubbled through her like champagne. After a lifetime of shame pulsing like static beneath—and across—her skin, this new feeling was a welcome change. 

Until the moment burst. 

A chill swept through Rumi as, suddenly, Mira’s body tensed. The hotheaded woman was practically shooting lasers at her screen. For a second, Rumi worried she might actually crack the phone in her shaking hand. 

Whatever Mira was look at was bad.

Then, in what was undoubtedly an unconscious action, Mira’s eyes shot down to her own in a panicked flash. 

‘Oh.’ Rumi swallowed sharply, ‘so it’s about me.’ 

A cold sweat broke out across her skin. A buzz rang between her ears. The silence that had, just seconds before, been peaceful and warm was now anything but. 

‘It’s fine,’ she reasoned to herself. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing serious.’ 

Afterall, it was hardly the first time that any of the girls had been caught in some media controversy or another. It was part of being an international celebrity. Every accidental stumble or frayed hair became a rumor about infighting or overwork. A casual bump into a peer Idol in the mall or award ceremony turned into a love scandal that could dominate the social media cycle for weeks. Cough during a fan event and you were accused of being careless with your health. An Idol could be too fat, too skinny, wear too much makeup, be letting herself go, all at the drop of a hat.   

But judging by the veins popping out of Mira’s forehead and the grinding that Rumi could practically hear coming from between her teeth, whatever was on her screen was far from nothing. 

Rumi took a steeling breath and lifted herself up, disturbing the careful couch ecosystem. Her temple left the comforting warm of Mira’s thigh and her legs dragged unwillingly away from Zoey’s. The dark-haired girl whined at the change, pausing her own show to flip around with a pout. 

“Rumiiiii” she puffed and twisted, “what—” But Zoey was observant. She noticed everything, her brain always working at lightspeed to take in the world around her. Her round, sparkling eyes sharpened. Her face grew serious. 

“What happened?” 

Mira hesitated, something unfamiliar painting the sharp planes of her face. Rumi had never seen her look like that. So… uncertain. Her mouth opened, only to close seconds later. The pink-haired girl who had never once held back, was… speechless. 

With every second, Rumi felt herself shrink in more and more. The cool air across her bare shoulders no longer felt like freedom. The silence of their penthouse was deafening. She felt exposed. Bare. Vulnerable. Cold. She should put something on. Cover up. Her patterns began to burn. What was she even thinking sitting around like this. She needed to get up and—

“Rumi, baby it’s okay,” like a lifeline, two smooth arms crept across her body from behind to encircle her torso. Zoey’s small steady hands latched onto her own. Without knowing, Rumi had curled in on herself and had begun to press and scratch at the skin around her shoulders. 

A flush burned across her body as she snapped out of her initial panic. 

‘Pathetic,’ her own voice hissed, ‘some leader you are, having to be restrained like a child. Pull yourself together.’ 

Despite how comforting the younger girl’s embrace felt, the security she felt being held (like something precious, something worthwhile) Rumi gently shook herself out of the hug, aching at the look of hurt that flashed across Zoey’s face. She let her hand creep out instead to lay against the black-haired girl’s own, entangling their fingers in a silent apology. 

“Sorry, I’m good, just—” Rumi let out the cross between a laugh and choke, “Mira, what is it?” 

“It’s nothing Rumi,” the long-haired dancer bit out, “just some stupid online troll that I’m going to find and kill. With my bare hands. Slowly. Maybe with a spoon.” 

Rumi let out a small, more genuine laugh. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Seriously, Mira. If it’s about me just let me see it. I’m sure if it’s a big enough deal Bobby will brief us on it soon enough and I’d rather find out what it is with just you two…if that’s alright? I mean—you don’t have to stay if it’s, you know, if you don’t want to. I get that it might be uncomfortable so no worries! It would just… be easier..for me…” she trailed off uncertainly. Despite all of their growth and the newly strengthened bond the three girls shared, Rumi was careful to never forget how much she owed Zoey and Mira. 

Because they could have left her. They should have. 

But they didn’t. 

And so everyday, Rumi was careful. To never ask for too much. To never let her want seep out of every pore the way she so desired. 

She was heavy with longing, the indescribable weight of it. 

That was her burden to bear. 

She had carried it as long as she’d known the two women who carried equal halves of her heart. Freely given. Impossible to get back. 

In its place, her chest cavity became a cage to house her hopes, so desperately wanting to escape the confines of her ribs.

The last thing Rumi wanted to do was drag Mira and Zoey into whatever mess her antis were throwing her way. If they wanted, she could leave and watch it in her room. Afterall, it was their break too. She didn't need to ruin one of their vacation days. It’d be fine. She’d be—

“Stop it,” Mira’s voice was flat. “Stop treating us like you think we’re trying to run away from you. Like we’re some fair-weather assholes who only want to be around you when it’s convenient. Is that what you think of us?”

Rumi blinked, at a loss for words, “No! I—” 

“Then don’t you dare think for a second that we’d leave you to deal with these haters by yourself!” Zoey chimed in, her hands tightening around Rumi’s own, “so get out of that pretty head of yours and let’s figure this out together.” 

Mira and Zoey locked eyes with one another, nodding as the two shifted to draw closer to Rumi’s still slightly trembling figure. They pressed in, Mira’s strong figure providing warmth across her right and Zoey hugging her tightly to her left. With a few clicks on her phone, Mira was casting the video that had stopped their entire afternoon to their living room television. 

Before it could play, Mira paused, leaving only the title of the video across the screen. 

From her side, Rumi heard as Zoey took in a sharp breath.

Rumi couldn’t breathe at all. 

‘FROM SUPERFAN TO SUPER-ANTI: THE DOWNFALL OF RUMI, A DISGRACE TO HER MOTHER’S LEGACY’

“Rumi…” Mira let her arm drape across her shoulder, pulling her even closer into her arms, “we really do not have to watch this. Seriously. Nothing this shitty guy has to say is even close to true. You are a badass. You are gorgeous and incredible. We love you. I can turn it off right now, please let me turn it off.”

It was unlike Mira to beg, Rumi thought distantly. Her mind felt separate from her body. She felt like she was listening from underwater. With every ounce of will she still had in her body, Rumi shook her head. Shakily, she managed to let two strangled words escape her aching throat. 

“Play it.” 

Mira sighed in defeat, grabbing onto Zoey from around Rumi’s shoulders. Hesitantly, she tapped her phone one last time, and the silence of their room was shattered. 

“Good morning Huntrix family,” a crackly voice burst gratingly from the TV speakers, the tone transformed by some kind of app or microphone feature. The body depicted on screen had the figure of a man, his walls covered in Huntrix merch, shelves stocked with limited-time figurines and plushies of the idols. Signed records, framed concert tickets, and close-up photos of Rumi alone coated every visible surface. Scattered throughout as well, however, were antique Sunlight Sisters posters and photographs. His face, however, was covered by a dark hospital mask that left only his eyes uncovered. The twin dark orbs burned with hate beneath a black beanie pushing oily hair down across his pimply forehead. 

His disguised voice continued, every word dripping in venom “ today I waited for HOURS to pick up Huntrix’s new promo poster for their next comeback. I’ve been a superfan of theirs since their FIRST single. I’ve gone to every live show, every fan event, and streamed every new drop. But when I got to the event and got a look at their new…art…I nearly threw up.” 

“ What, Huntrix nation, is THIS!” 

With a flourish, he threw up the poster so it was visible on screen. On it, the three singers were pictured staring forward, side by side. It was no different from many of their other promos, except…

“ Rumi has always been my bias but I genuinely can’t even look at her anymore, with those ugly lines crossing her perfect face. Rumi was absolutely stunning, an angel in human form. She literally means so much to me, and I honestly hate everything about this new look,” he rolled his eyes, glaring at the poster in front of him. 

“Who does she think she is? To change up her entire look on the fans who have supported her for years. One of the best parts of her was how cute and modest she was, always staying covered up unlike so many of the females trying to get famous now. I get that tattoos are getting more popular, but she honestly looks disgusting. Plus, I showed my mom the poster —she used to be a HUGE fan of the Sunlight Sisters, that’s how I got into them too, and she was telling me how Rumi’s mother never would have supported this look for her.” Zoey winced audibly, one hand rubbing soothing patterns into Rumi’s back while the other gripped onto her hand tightly. 

“She is such a disgrace to her mom’s reputation. I don’t even want to know what Celine thinks of this, ruining the memory of her dearest friend. This new cry for attention is giving desperate and self-centered. Genuinely fatherless behavior, oh—that’s right, not even her own dad wanted her. Honestly Mira and Zoey would do better without her, I hope their label cuts their losses and finds someone who knows how to actually act like an idol and care about their fans. Because until then, this fan is OUT!” With that, the figure on screen crumpled up the paper in his hand and tossed it in the trash. The video ended, leaving only the comments and like-to-dislike ratio up on screen. 

Rumi was going to be sick. Her eyes couldn’t help but track frantically over the viewcount, already in the tens of thousands and only increasing. Across the screen, comments popped up, many in agreement with the original poster. 

Huntr3ss99: ‘Ugh, yeah I saw those too, can’t believe she would do something so stupid’

RumiLoverBoy: ‘ 🤮 absolutely disgusting, #NotMyRumi’ 

BabyZoey2Cute: ‘I hate that Mira and Zoey’s careers are going to be hurt by one stupid little narcissist’

Ruinmi69: ‘Genuinely such a terrible center, loved her but not anymore #NotMyRumi’

MiraOntheWall: ‘Mira would make such a better leader 🙄 #ReplaceRumi’

Her palm crept up to cover her mouth, only to hiss in pain as she realized one of her fangs had popped out and cut her bottom lip. She looked at the blood now coating her finger, only to wince at the dark claws protruding from her hands. Her patterns were flaring a sickly purple, the darkest they had been since—

‘I see your real face, and it’s ugly as sin…’ 

Hands pulling. 

                                                                                 (She honestly looks disgusting)

                                        (disgusting)

                     ‘We see who you are…’ 

A lifted guandao, pointed right towards her.

(She should have run into it, should have put them all out of their misery)

                                                                                                                                                   ‘...Why won’t you look at me!’ 

Her own sword, lifted, an offering. 

                                                                                            (A disgrace to her mother)

                                                                             (What would Celine think) 

(She should have killed her when she had the chance)

‘Why couldn’t you love me!...’ 

Fire. fire everywhere. 

‘... You can’t even fix yourself’ 

Burning flesh.

Burning. He was— 

                                               (It should have been her.) 

Everything was—

It was humming that brought her back. And the feel of bodies pressed crushingly against her own. Zoey and Mira were harmonizing, singing the first song they had ever learned together. 

“We are hunters, voices strong, slaying demons with our song.” 

The sound traveled from them and into her bones. She could feel the tears running down her face, her entire body trembling from the panic rushing through her. She needed to run, hide, get away before she ruined them. Those comments, that video, they were all right. 

Mira and Zoey would be better off without her. Everyone would. She felt her body tense, getting ready to break free of her two girls singing so sweetly to her. She didn’t deserve them. She never would. 

Rumi was the kind of broken dog that bit. She had never been raised knowing how to love. 

But at the first twitch of her arms, Zoey and Mira only tightened their hold. 

“ Stop, Rumi please!” Mira yelled, “Don’t you dare try to fucking leave right now, don’t you fucking dare! I swear to God I will tie your braid to the coffee table if you think for a second that those assholes are right.” 

Rumi thrashed desperately in their hold, taking the three of them to the ground. Still, they all held on. 

“Sweetheart, baby, Rumi, listen to us, listen to our voices, you are so beautiful, so amazing, darling please stop fighting” Zoey was crying, she had made Zoey cry, how could she have made Zoey cry. 

“Ple as e,” Rumi’s voice shook with grief and something otherworldly, “ just l e t me g o!” 

“ Never!” the two girls yelled in unison.

Rumi was sobbing, the weight of not just this video but an entire lifetime of those words echoing in her own heart escaping in a rush. It was like every hateful, awful thought she ever had about herself was given physical form in that body on screen. She hated it. Zoey and Mira deserved better. 

"Why," She felt like an animal, cornered, and afraid, "why won't you just leave me! You should have left." 

And they all knew she wasn't just taking about right now. 

“Because we love you, you eggplant colored idiot!” Mira screamed, “we love you, so just… stop it. Letting you go would be like letting go of a piece of our soul , and those don’t come in parts, okay?” Mira trailed off, wheezing at the strain of trying to hold down her struggling leader. "You have it, you have us! Whether you want us or not." 

“It’s all or nothing,” Zoey continued, hanging on with every ounce of strength, fighting to keep Rumi's hands from cutting into her own flesh, “and we’ve already picked all !”

Rumi blinked, amber eyes frozen in shock as she took in the words of the two women that had always held her heart. 

'They love me?' 

Rumi knew that they loved her, loved her like a friend and a partner and a group member. They said it all the time. Jokingly, laughing when she cooked them dinner or they brought home her favorite gimbap. But when Mira said it like that, it felt like she meant it. The way Rumi dreamed she and Zoey might say it. 

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, “you…I’m not the kind of person you love all of.” 

She stopped struggling at least. Rumi let herself go limp as Mira and Zoey held onto her. Even if they were just saying it to get her to calm down, she would take in every second of this while she could. Their warmth, wrapped around her, their limbs intertwined. With every breath she smelt them both, the air from her lungs leaving only to be replaced with their exhales. She couldn’t tell where she ended and they began. 

It was everything she had ever wanted. 

( Once, when she was young, Celine had taken her to the beach. She wasn’t allowed to go into the water, but the two of them sat on the sand together, building castles and eating cucumber sandwiches. 

At night, Rumi snuck out to go into the waves, just to see what it was like. 

She wanted to know what it would feel like, to be held by something unwilling to let her go. 

She woke up on the sand, fragments of her patterns visible from beneath her soaked white sleeves.  

Celine dragged her away. She got terribly sick. They never went back,)

She was reminded of the ocean then. In Mira and Zoey’s arms. 

“Rumi, you are the easiest person in the world to love,” the black haired girl’s words were spoken directly into the skin of her shoulder. 

“Seriously, and when you say stuff like that I want to gruesomely murder every single person who ever convinced you otherwise,” Mira bit out from between gritted teeth. 

They stayed like that, tangled and breathing, for a few more minutes. Rumi’s mind raced frantically as she tried to make sense of their words, her thoughts, and the hate-filled video they had watched together. 

“What if..” Rumi sniffled softly as her tears began to ease up, “what if I told you…that I..” 

That frantic hope was beating frantically at the confines of her chest, begging, pleading for her to say the words. Gone were the claws, fangs, and the sickly purple. All that remained was a soft, blushing pink, a multicolored cosmic glow, and one amber-hued eye. 

She took in a steadying breath “And what if I told you that I loved you too?” Her voice came out shyly, her gaze settling anywhere but on the two girls holding her together. 

Mira and Zoey’s heads both sprung up, smiling as they made bright-eyed eye contact with one another. Each one lifted a hand, crossing their arms to gently lay their palms across Rumi’s cheeks. They both leaned forward, and then all three girls were side-by-side on the floor, foreheads pressing gently against one another, mouths just inches apart. 

“Then I think we’d both be really happy, Rumi” Zoey giggled and pressed a soft kiss to the pattern crossing Rumi’s forehead. 

“Yeah, I might even, like, smile or whatever,” Mira followed as she pulled Rumi’s hand up to kiss their joined fingers. 

The moment held, like a painting done in all pastels. Rumi had never felt happier. While the video still made her sick, what some strangers on a random post had to say about her suddenly mattered much less than the words of the two women holding her tight. 

Suddenly, Rumi’s phone began to buzz from where it had gotten trapped beneath her side. She groaned as Bobby’s ringtone echoed through the penthouse, that meant he must have seen the video. She held her finger against the answer button, nerves stopping her from letting the bullying become something… real. Something outside the confines of their home. 

But with Mira holding her close, and Zoey’s arms wrapped around her body, she knew she could handle whatever was coming their way. 

“Rumi!” Bobby’s voice boomed across her speaker, sounding more serious then she had ever heard him before “I’m not sure if you’ve seen yet but—” 

“Yeah Bobby,” Mira’s dry voice cut in, “we’ve all seen it, you’re on speaker.” 

“Oh, hi everyone! Rumi, so glad you’re with the girls. Listen, don’t even worry about this for one second, the company is on it. We’ll have that video down by the end of the day and your real fans are already clearing the searches for you—hashtag ‘Not My Rumi’ won’t ever get close to trending. Just wanted you to be completely confident that we’re behind you 1000%, okay? You are, and will always be, the leader of Huntrix,” Bobby spoke with finality, with the weight of the entire company behind him. Rumi felt even more stress melt away as another part of her team stood solidly by her side. 

Bobby continued, listing all of the steps that the company was taking to protect her and her girls, to make sure that the hate stayed contained and that no one escalated into something more. He also made sure they knew about the support campaign her fans were fighting on her behalf, ‘#RumiSoPretty, #BeTrueLikeRu, #Huntrix4Ever, and #WeLoveYouRumi’ flooding social media at 10x the rate of anything else. 

They all thanked him again as he promised to keep them in the loop.

It was the three of them once more…still laying on the carpet. 

“Alright,” Mira started, breaking the silence, “I don’t know about you three but I think there’s a perfectly good couch we can all get back to cuddling on. Not that this little floor-sesh hasn’t been great for our backs.” 

Zoey and Rumi laughed as they stood up, brushing themselves off and settling back into one another on the cushions. 

“I think that’s enough doom scrolling for now, which means…” Zoey’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she fiddled with her own phone, “we can all watch the rest of my docuseries together, yay!” She laughed as the screen switched to an angry looking man with a bright yellow mullet. 

Rumi and Mira both groaned in mock annoyance, but they both knew they’d sit through anything for their lyricist. 

Rumi knew they would need to talk more about everything that happened today, her responses, their reveals. But now, as she took in the rise of Mira’s chest beneath her back and the feel of Zoey resting with her head on the softest part of her own belly, Rumi knew everything would be ok. Her phone buzzed, one more time. 

It was a text, from Celine. Quickly, she opened the chat.

‘I saw the video…’ 

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. Rumi’s shoulders tensed, and she was positive that both Mira and Zoey could feel the change. 

But before she could react, the full message came through. 

‘While I may not always agree with what you chose…’ Rumi winced, knowing full well how far that disagreement went. 

‘Your mother fell in love with your father. She thought he was beautiful, and he was covered in those same patterns that cover you now.’ 

‘She would be anything but disappointed in you.’ 

‘Thank you, Celine’ 

Some more bubbles appeared, before they disappeared again. There was no response. Rumi and Celine would need to talk, but coming from the woman who knew her mother the best, that message was more a kindness then anything Rumi could have ever expected. 

‘Yeah,’ Rumi sighed as a tiger appeared on screen and Zoey looped Mira into the lore, things would be alright.