Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time you saw her you were trying to blend in with the night. Your outstretched wings barely gleaming under the moonbeam. Your frame hidden in plain sight.

That was your favorite thing about flying at night, it was the closest to freedom you’ve experienced in a while.

The wind surrounding you, grounding you, as weird as it may sound. You scanned the horizon, your tired eyes felt like they were drawn toward some rooftop. And then you saw her.

She seemed sad, her purple hair neatly styled in a thick braid that cascaded down her back. She took off her jacket, revealing purple marks on her arms. Your eyes widened.

But she started singing and then you recognized her. How could you not. Rumi. The face that filled every billboard in the city.

You tried to fly a little closer without being seen, curious now.

No more hiding

I’ll be shining like I’m born to be

‘Cause we are hunters

Voices strong and I know I believe

She then fell to her knees, crying. You couldn’t make out what she was saying but you felt something tug deeply in your chest.

Then her screams filled the air.

Why?

WHY?

Her voice turned into a dark echo that rumbled all along the Honmoon, magenta lines spreading and making you shiver, your own patterns glowing faintly against your skin.

With one last glance at her horrified face you took off, your wings steering you in the opposite direction.

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You didn’t like walking around the city at daytime but it had been eons since you’ve felt that unwelcome presence in this realm. You had to make sure he was back and you had to know why.

Your back ached with tension, you hated hiding your wings for many reasons but the pain you’ve grown accustomed to was probably the main one. But you had to blend in and surely having giant black and silver feathered wings was not going to help you.

You stood a few feet away from the boys, recognizing Jinu instantly. You then disappeared into the walls, a mere shadow flowing around like second nature.

Then you saw her again. Purple hair hidden poorly under the hood of her sweatshirt, a massive box in her hands. Jinu bumped into her, making her fall to the floor and in that moment you knew.

Gwi-ma sent them here to end the ones keeping the Honmoon strong.

You kept following Jinu until they disappeared leaving a purple cloud in their wake but you knew better. You stretched your black nostrils, sensing every change in the air and you located them, appearing again in your corporeal form and blending in with the crowd as music started playing.

A fucking boy band.

You rolled your eyes as you tried to stay hidden among the people that were screaming and clamoring, clearly appeased by the show but Jinu’s eyes met yours with shocking calmness. Last time you two saw each other still weighing heavy on you both.

You started walking off when they announced to be on some variety show that night and disappeared again under purple cloud, leaving you to weigh your options.

You stepped off to an alley, closing your eyes as if to sense another shift in the air, the one that smelled like Jinu. But before you could find him, a purple cloud filled your nostrils and as soon as it appeared, it vanished, dragging you along.

You couldn’t help but cough at the suddenness of the movement, landing steadily on the roof of some old houses with Jinu grabbing your throat.

“Nice to see you too” you grinned, not even attempting to loosen the hold he had on you.

“What do you want this time” he spatted, twisting his fingers a little to add more pressure to your neck.

You tried to take a deep breath, smirking when you found it difficult to do so.

“Wanted to” you tried, you cleared your throat when his hold loosened a bit. “Wanted to check on a good old friend, that’s it”

“Bullshit” he growled, letting go of your neck completely.

You steered your weight, balancing a little.

“Thought I might check what you up to this time” you answered. “Last time we met this realm was left quite in shambles”.

He huffed a dry laugh.

“You almost wiped me from existence” he countered raising his voice.

“And whose fault was that?” your own voice dangerously close to a low scream.

“Just leave it be, you won’t be able to stop him this time and I would hate to see you get in the middle of the crossfire” he said.

And without letting you answer another cloud of purple smoke covered him, leaving you alone again.

“Like hell” you muttered to no one but yourself and reached for your shadow form, too tired to be seen on your way home.

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You were staring at your wardrobe, focusing on fabric that would make moving easier but you also knew you had to keep it down so people wouldn’t freak out if you ran into them on the streets. You opted for a loose, backless shirt, just in case you needed to wing out, and some black pants. Hiding your pendant under your shirt you left your house, meeting the crisp air and the darkness, already helping you breathe a little better, and you started making your way to the studios where the Saja Boys were to star this night.

The streets were fairly lonely, not many people choosing a night like this one to go for a walk and you felt grateful for that. You leaned your weight on the wall, deciding to wait for them outside, not wanting to attract any more attention than necessary and you didn’t need to wait for long, seeing how they appeared out of thin air and disappeared again behind the bathhouse door, and you quickly followed them inside just in time to hide and avoid being seen by the three girls that entered next.

You were aware of every exchange and took your leave when the water demons appeared, keeping the girls occupied while you chased Jinu. What you didn't expect, however, was for Rumi to chase you two.

She charged at Jinu and he blocked, scratching her arm and shoved her against a wall giving you the opening you needed. You tackled Jinu out of the way and just when you were about to teleport him with you, Rumi charged again. This time at you.

You made a split-second decision, letting go of Jinu, who took the opportunity to run off the scene, and summoning your double headed scythe.

You barely had time to block her blow, her sword coming almost too close to your neck as she pressed you against the wall.

Your patterns flashed silver as you laughed, your sight trained on her exposed arm, purple lines on full display.

“You’re strong” you grunted, barely out of breath.

Her expression changed when she noticed what you were looking at and you took advantage of it by pushing her backwards, creating some distance between you two.

You then lowered your scythe and murmured:

“A hunter who’s part demon, huh?”

But before she could answer a water demon crashed the wall, its body limp on the floor but Rumi looked at her friends through the hole, her expression drowned in fear. She grabbed her arm, trying to hide the exposed skin with her other hand, taking some steps back.

“Rumi, we need your help”

“Rumi!”

You could hear them, like some distant echo but for some reason you couldn’t keep your eyes off Rumi.

“Rumi, we need you”.

You launched yourself at her without thinking, keeping her close and cradling her in your arms only for you to push her away seconds later, your handkerchief tied around her arm, hiding her patterns.

With a last glance in her direction, you became a shadow once again and left the place, but you drew your wings out as soon as you were outside and made sure no one was watching.
Then you took off, unable to shake the image of the purple-haired girl off your troubled mind.

Chapter Text

When Rumi finally got to her room, she was met with your handkerchief folded on her bed. The faint memory of you earlier that night plagued her thoughts just to be snapped out of it by a chirping noise.

When she entered her own private space in hopes of some well-earned rest and maybe trying the tonics Zoey made her get, she wasn’t expecting to be startled by the sight of a Yokai crow wearing a tiny hat on her balcony.

Cautiously opening the door, she stepped outside just as three yellow eyes appeared on the side of the head of said bird.

Looking around she tensed up, seeing demonic eyes watching her from the dark.

She summoned her sword just as a cat-like silhouette started stepping into the illuminated side, its blue a black stripped body slowly getting closer until one of its paws collided with one of the flowerpots Rumi kept on her balcony. Then the tiger-like creature started fumbling, trying and failing to get the vase back up.

She approached the tiger and placed the pot back up. The creature looked up and started walking toward her only to knock the flowerpot down again. When he started his already futile attempts to place the vase back up again Rumi’s lips quirked up, falling to her knees in front of the creature.

“No. No, really. It’s okay. Just leave it” she said softly. “What are you?”

The tiger opened its mouth, letting a card fall out.

“Hello, friend” she read out loud, opening the envelope and seeing the hand-written note in Korean. “Nixe? Ni...Nixe? Oh! Meet you? I’m not gonna meet you. Who do you think you...”

The bird flew by with a shriek, making Rumi flinch. The bird then perched on the tiger’s head as they slowly disappeared and reappeared again on the streets below.

“Okay, Nixe. Let’s meet” she whispered.

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You were waiting over the roof of some old house, your figure casting a long shadow under the moonlight. You didn’t hear a thing besides the soft rustling of the wind, but you felt it. A slight shift in the air, a small vibration against your patterns. She came.

With your back facing her, you didn’t need to see her to know she had summoned her sword. You felt her charge and swing at you, straight to the neck. But you turned into a shadow just in time to avoid losing your head, your form being swallowed by darkness under black smoky nostrils.

“What?” you felt her mutter.

You reclaimed your physical form and turned to stare at her.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting a hug, but...” you were interrupted by Rumi’s sword being pointed at you. “Jeez, okay, okay. Calm down”.

You jumped away from her, earning yourself a little distance, and crouched down holding your weight in your calves.

“I just wanna talk” you continued.

“Talk?” she asked, clearly taken aback.

“About your patterns?” you said softly.

Annoyed, she swinged her sword again, but you just jumped off to another nearby roof.

“You were supposed to be dead by now!”

You continued to dodge her every swing, turning into shadow every now and then to avoid being sliced by her sharp sword before summoning your own weapon.

“Whoah. Hey! I could’ve told your friends what you are. But I didn’t, did I?” You blocked every thrust and countered every attack with sharp precision, a strong grip holding your double-edged scythe. “Because they don’t know, right?” you just gauged her reaction then. “Thought so” you continued, lowering your weapon and making it disappear under a silver gleam. “A demon girl. Also hunter. Hiding. Walking around free in the human world”.

“Just hunter, not demon” she spat.

“Then how did you get your patterns?” you asked with a smirk.

She frowned, her composure guarded.

“That’s none of your business” she answered, her voice bitter.

“Huh. I know what it feels like to have them” you tried.

“Feel? You’re a demon. Demons don’t feel anything.” she stared at you with hate in her eyes.

“Is that what you think? That’s all demons do. Feel. Feel our shame, our misery. That’s what demons like Gwi-ma use to try and control us” you said, already tired. “These are constant reminders of my shame”

You looked at the marks on you, extending your arms to watch your patterns, silver and black coating your skin.

“A shame I can never escape” you approach Rumi and slowly move your hand close to her neck, close enough for her patterns to react to yours and light up under her white turtleneck. “Yours are a reminder too, of a shame of your own”.

“You don’t know me” she spat.

You were taken aback by the hate in her eyes.

“You know you can tell me. I’ll understand” you said softly.

She pointed her sword at you again, dangerously close to your throat.

“I’m nothing like you” she said.

You smirked at that.

“Oh, I’m sure” you grinned. “I’ll be here when you’re done pretending. Until next time” you added.

“There won’t be a next time!” she screamed.

But you just disappeared to your shadow form, flowing away like smoke would.

Completely unaware of the figure hiding behind a building, having captured the very moment your hand was approaching Rumi’s chest, right before you both started glowing.

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You woke up to the sound of your phone going off. It was the middle of the night in Seoul but most of the people who could contact you weren’t on this side of the world.

Barely opening your eyes, you stretched, reluctant to get up just yet. But then you saw the name on your screen and all your blood rushed to your head as you got up as fast as one would if stricken by lightning.

“Hey Liv, what’s up” you started.

“What are you up to, Nixe?” she replied coldly, calculated.

You stuttered at first, not knowing what she was referring to.

“Uhhh... You’ll have to be more specific? I don’t recall doing anything particularly bad as to get a call from you when I’m traveling” you said unsure.

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

“Some magazines are theorizing about whether or not Rumi Nim and Nixe Aasen are involved. Some are even talking about a hinted collab? Nix, I swear to God, you ought to keep me updated so I can keep steering your career” she exhaled.

You were stunned, shocked even.

“What?” you muttered, unable to understand where all that was coming from.

“There’s a picture of you both. At night. Really close to each other” Olivia said, her voice stern. “If you are involved with her, in any way, I need to know”.

“There’s nothing to know, I just met her Liv. Don’t even know how someone got a photo of us” you rushed.

The last thing you needed right now was for your manager to freak out over you forgetting to follow her directives about your career.

“I’ll send you the link, we’re taking everything down but it is to be expected that you both face some press about the issue” she finished.

“But I’m supposed to be on a much-deserved break” you complained.

“You should’ve thought about that before letting yourself be photographed with an idol, and pop-star royalty no less” she countered, playful now.

“Mhmm” you groaned, running a hand through tousled hair. “Always a pleasure to speak to you, you know?” you said.

You heard her laugh on the other end of the line.

“Love you too, Nixie” she answered just before the call was disconected.

The first thing you did as you started to process everything was click on the link Liv had sent you. You were redirected to some shitty site, a misleading title over a slightly blurry picture but it was undeniable who the two girls standing close to each other were.

Rumi Nim and Nixe Aasen: The beginning of something?

You huffed, leaning your weight on the table, unsettled and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You were 95% sure that Gwi-ma was behind this unexpected move but why? Why out you to Rumi and everyone else?

You also knew who the puppet doing all the dirty work for his master was.

What the hell, Jinu?

Chapter Text

Rumi spent the whole way back home thinking about you and she was grateful for the distraction the new song provided.

She tried her best to keep her mind laser focused on the task at hand, given the importance of it, the fate of the world depended on it. No pressure.

She was absentmindedly listening to Mira and Zoey as they tried to conjure the right words for the new song, failing to do so.

“This song sucks!” Zoey said.

“We only have to write the best diss track ever to crush the Idol Awards, or else there’ll be a demon apocalypse. No pressure at all” Mira countered.

Zoey winced at that before regaining her composure.

“Yeah! We gotta get up close and insult their stupid faces!” she said, crawling on her knees towards the altar-like corner of the room covered with photos of the Saja Boys. “Their nasty, disgusting, not beautiful, perfectly dewy, symmetrical, shimmering...”

“Okay enough! I’m taking this down” Mira said, already ripping the posters off the wall. “Just like we’re gonna take down these boys”.

Rumi looked up at that, her eyes gleaming excited.

“Takedown? Takedown!” she exclaimed, “that’s the song! It’s a take down!”

They started adding phrases to the lyrics and it clicked, as if it weren’t almost an improv show in the comfort of their luxury penthouse, Mira adding some moves that could match the beat they were working on, Zoey and Rumi playing melodies until they reached the right one.

Minutes turned into hours and by the time Rumi went to her room, checking her phone for the first time in what felt like ages, it was way past midnight.

She wasn’t expecting three missed calls from Celine. Three. She always called three times when something was off, so Rumi ran to check her voicemail, flinching a little at the cold voice her mentor used.

“Hope you have a good reason for not answering my calls” the voicemail started, the voice behind it devoid from all emotion. “Check your email, I left you a link to some shitty gossip site. You have a lot of explaining to do first thing in the morning”.

Then the voicemail ended, and Rumi’s heart started beating faster, her mind racing through everything that could have made Celine leave her this cryptic message.

She wasn't ready for the headline she discovered when she clicked the link, being redirected to some bad illuminated, low-quality digital magazine, if it could be called that.

Rumi Nim and Nixe Aasen: The beginning of something?

She huffed, half frustrated, half confused. But her blood ran cold when she saw the photo, too blurry and taken from too far away to fully expose the scene that had taken place between the two of you but still dangerously close to revealing some hard truths she wasn’t anywhere near ready to face just yet.

Who the hell are you, Nixe?

And without much thought she typed your name on her search engine, some pictures of your face popping up first thing. Scrolling down, her eyes widened as she saw lots of songs listed. Under your name.

She tried to repress whatever feeling was making her feel nauseous, she kept reading. There wasn’t much information about you besides some well stablished pieces stating you were born in Norway and raised in LA, who your role models were and whatnot. Nothing too personal. Nothing too detached. Just enough.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Surely, they were already working on taking these down.

So, she decided to do what she did best. Denial.

She definitely didn’t look you up that night and obviously she didn’t end up glued to her phone while she listened to one of your recorded show’s entire setlist. She most definitely didn’t do that. For almost an hour. 59 minutes and 10 seconds to be exact.

She was being so normal about this. Until she wasn’t.

She wasn’t ready to hear your voice, or to watch, mesmerized by the way you carried yourself on the stage. Just standing there with your guitar, smiling fondly and waving at the crowd, playing an infectious rhythm that didn’t meet the sharp edges she encountered earlier, the first time she spoke to you.

You threw her off and she didn’t know how to feel about it, so she drowned her thoughts with your low and raspy voice under the pretense of finding out more about you. In a pragmatic way. Sure.

She wasn’t expecting your songs to be this soft but yet again, she didn’t even know you could sing to begin with.

Something about your presence onstage kept her glued to her phone as your performance went about, your tiny frame in a light cantaloupe-colored silk dress that hugged your body perfectly, leaving your back exposed.

She was curious about your patterns, though. Did you use your glamor to cover them? That must’ve taken a lot of power from you, seeing as there weren’t as many demons who could pull that off without coming off as a clumsy little excuse for a human.

You blended in. Really blended in. Like this was just another day for you, and maybe it was. Like you owned the place. As if you’ve earned it.

She didn’t notice the first 20 minutes passing by until she analyzed her screen again, seeing you put down the guitar you’ve been playing for the last song and, for the first time, facing the crowd without that armor.

She picked up on your body language, or so she thought at least.

The music started playing and she could swear she felt your shoulders relax, a closeup of your back on her screen. Your hips swayed to the music as you started singing, soft at first but higher as the song progressed. You gripped the mic off its stand and started walking around the stage and Rumi felt something close to jealousy.

Why could you be that free, that loved, when she wasn’t.

Every infectious smile you gave to the crowd, every wave, every move of your head matching the beat, it sent a sharp feeling down her throat. But she kept watching.

Even when you stared at the camera with a hateful look in your eyes, something bitter in your voice as you started singing, walking slowly, every step matching the build-up of this song.

You built this cage.

She felt a shiver running down her spine, but her eyes were glued to your frame, the way you kept your body in a controlled space, enough to not come off as aggressive but still making her feel every ounce of energy you were putting into the performance.

She fell asleep that night clutching her phone, your voice gently coaxing her to rest.

Next morning she would deny everything, from the initial shock to the mixed and uncomfortable feelings she couldn’t even name. But for now, just for this once, she let herself have this. Even if she didn’t know what this was.

Just for one night, she let herself believe that she did deserve something more than shame.