i know you’re poison
(robert aeor high au p13)
p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6 - p7 - p8 - p9 - p10 - p11 - p12
hey!! so i wouldn't normally ask this of you, but we're in teh endgame of the fic now, things are really starting to come into shape. so, if you're willing, would you mind reblogging?? it would mean the world to me, and since we're in the culminating chapters, there's really not too much to come from here. writing this fic has been a dream come true for me as an author (robert aeor high is actively my longest work ever, as well as the one i've had the most fun writing) and i am genuinely so happy to be able to share this with you all. just something to take into consideration as we reach the endgame of this fic!!
...although Father is a loudly destructive, angrily defiant blowhard, Scott’s known ever since a very young age that his sneaking, scheming mother is the one he really needs to be afraid of. And even now, as she leads him by his arm into the kitchen, making snide, passive-aggressive comments about the way he’s dressed, her inch-long nails cutting into his arm, Scott finds himself curling in on himself, his old submissive habits taking over automatically, by design.
or, alright bitches time to finally meet scott's mom!! fairly short chapter but the next one's gonna explain a lot of shit
TW: cults, implied murder by flamethrower, mind control, mind games, implied murder of a minor, manipulation
please lmk if i missed anything!!
(3543 words)
Scott’s mother hooks him gently by the elbow and leads him inside, just like in all the old movies, her smile the same as he remembers it, slippery and snake-like, charismatic and smooth, her personality exactly right and without a fault for what she is- a cult leader. She’s wearing a long, slitted black dress, her piercing cyan eyes the same shade as Scott’s and tipped with the darkest winged eyeliner he’s ever seen. Her siren scales shimmer in the artificial light, and Scott catches glimpses of purple, green, yellow, and blue, all at once, reflected in them.
The edges of Mother’s lips are curved up in a salacious smile, blanketed under her signature deep crimson lipstick, a shade so dark that at this point, it might as well be purple. Her hair, exactly the same bright teal color as her eyes, is slicked back into a tight ponytail, showing off her smooth and unwrinkled forehead and defined widow’s peak, the ends of her hair reaching almost to her waist.
“Ah, Scott, I’ve been looking for you,” she smarms, some facsimile of warmness edging into her voice, a tone that Scott’s come to know to be fake, smothering her voice in honey. “But then I came home, and your father had kicked you out. Despicable, absolutely despicable! So, naturally, I told him to get out and find his own home.”
Scott nods along amicably, because as he’s learnt from years of experience, the best way to stay out of his mother’s way is to keep under the radar and not spark her anger. As anyone could tell from even a few minutes in her presence, the best, no, only way to describe Mother would be that she is a power-hungry, scarily intelligent diva.
Coming from one of the richest families around, Karissa Major lived a sheltered, spoiled childhood in which she was generally given anything she asked for. As a result, she became extremely smart- because instead of asking for toys like a normal child, the only things Karissa ever wanted were books. And not fiction books that you’d think a child would like- Karissa only read books on psychology, on the human psyche, eventually graduated from college with a masters’ degree in psychology at sixteen, afterwards scooping up some hapless gorgon twice her age from his own wife, seducing him with her singing until he left his one true love for her. That was Scott’s father.
When Karissa married Scott’s father, named Andre Piccolino before he took her name, her fortune had doubled, even tripled, in size- money rolling in from every corner, rich friends, patrons left and right. The ample flow of cash only seemed to grow when Karissa managed to form a special “friend group” who she calls “the Watchers”. As far as Scott knows, they live life in the mountains in a secluded, secret compound- one his mother’s been at for the past year, and one he wouldn’t set foot in if you paid him (providing he was suddenly allowed to, of course. Scott’s been banned from the Watchers for as long as he can remember.)
Yeah, the Watchers. Her cult. Karissa demands half the profits of all her members as soon as they move in, and if they dare attempt to leave, her wrath is… well, let’s just say no one’s attempted to leave the cult in about seven years, since a particularly harrowing incident involving a girl, seventeen at the time, a dark forest, and a blowtorch.
Her body was never found, most likely burnt to a crisp.
Scott only knows about this… incident… due to overheard conversations his Mother had on the phone when he was young.
Because although Father is a loudly destructive, angrily defiant blowhard, Scott’s known ever since a very young age that his sneaking, scheming mother is the one he really needs to be afraid of. And even now, as she leads him by his arm into the kitchen, making snide, passive-aggressive comments about the way he’s dressed, her inch-long nails cutting into his arm, Scott finds himself curling in on himself, his old submissive habits taking over automatically, by design.
“So, um, what exactly are you doing here?” Scott asks flatly, earning a shocked look from Mother as he interrupts yet another mention of The Watchers and how “we would love to have you, really, darling.”
Huh. He supposes he’s not strictly unallowed anymore.
“Well, I’m coming back to check on my darling baby boy, of course. So, Scott, tell me how it’s been going. Tell me… everything.” Her irises briefly flash a dark, instant pitch, like a void pulling him in, trying to pull everything out of him piece by piece by piece. Because right. She’s a siren. Scott should have known Mother would do this at some point.
He tries to keep his mouth closed, he really does, but she’s too powerful and she knows it- her lips quirk up a centimeter further in genuine triumph as Scott’s own lips part and he begins to recount the story of the past few months, every last detail. His mother listens intently, her hands clasped underneath her chin, elbows resting on the stone table, as the sky gets darker and darker outside. Hours must have passed by the time Scott finishes, gasping for a breath.
The only part he manages to leave out of his lengthy tale are the memories he and Jimmy have shared.
“Well! Thank you so very much, Scott, what a positively lovely storytime.” Karissa claps her hands together decidedly, her smile growing wider by the minute, a cheshire cat grin that unnerves Scott to his very bone. “So, about this Jimmy- would either of you be interested in a little something my friend group has to offer? We’re thinking of putting on a little show, and we were wondering if you and some of your friends would consent to be the, ah, actors, let’s say.”
Scott’s first instinct, one he feels down to his inner core, is to say no- to yell it, scream it in Karissa’s face, and run from the house, as quickly as possible. He doesn’t want anything to do with his mother, or the Watchers, or anything they have to offer- Mother has ruined his life more times than he dares to count. But her smile is so inviting, so warm, and he’s certain that despite it all, she really does want what’s best for him…
This time, Scott catches the faint scent of siren magic on the air as her eyes start to go black, shaking his head violently and sending a glare in her direction. “Cut it out, Mother. No, I don’t want to be a part of another one of your twisted little experiments- you think I don’t know what happened to the kids from the first one?”
Karissa raises one eyebrow so high that it almost disappears into her overly defined hairline, an expression of strict disappointment plastered atop her features. “Impressive, Scott. I’m glad you’re finally beginning to take your siren side into account. This does, however, make things a lot more… difficult, I’ll say, for us.”
“Because you can’t control me on a whim? Yeah, I’d say that’s a good thing, actually. I don’t want anything to do with you, it was a mistake to come here in the first place. I need to leave, I need to go, Jimmy’s probably going crazy looking for me.” Scott stands, roughly pushing away his chair, and turns to leave, with every intent of getting out of this wretched place and back to the comfortable safety of Jimmy.
“I know about the rapport, Scott.” Mother’s voice drips from behind him like honey, and his shoulders clench, stopping him in his tracks.
“...The what?” Scott asks, dread welling up inside him for some unknown reason, sticky and pulling at his insides.
His mother sighs dramatically, throwing her hands up into the air like the diva she is. “The rapport! Really, you’ve not had quite the best education in the ways of sirens, have you?”
“My education is fine, Mother.” Scott clenches his teeth, still with half a mind to just forget about whatever she’s on about this time and leave. But she’s got him hooked, and she knows it, her snaking grin growing somehow even wider- Scott swears that her mouth shouldn’t be able to stretch that far, it’s almost unnatural how stretched and strained her face is.
“A rapport is an emotional and mental bond a siren, or, in your case, half-siren, can share with another sentient being. Rapports are only formed between two people who have great trust and respect for each other, and they can manifest in a variety of different ways. I could sense the magic of it on you as soon as I took your arm when you first walked in the door. So, tell me- how has your rapport shown itself, and who did you decide to share it with?”
Scott doesn’t want to admit that his mother has struck him speechless, but she has. For the first time in the last few months, everything is almost too clear, as if he’s been squinting through layers of clouded glass that have suddenly and miraculously been wiped clean. “Wait. That’s what it is? The thing me and Jimmy have?” The words are out before he can stop himself, curiosity creeping into his mind, pushing out any coherent thoughts.
“Oh, so it’s Jimmy, is it?” Karissa asks, her smile dropping for the first time so far, to be replaced by a slight and subtle sneer. If Scott hadn’t spent all of his formative years with the woman, he’s not sure he would’ve even noticed the negative expression. “Scott, I’m not like your father. I’m not against you having a boyfriend- in fact, I had a girlfriend when I was younger. I am many things, but a homophobe is not one of them. But, still, I do have my worries- didn’t you say he was homeless before that? Not to mention the fact that he’s an avian… I’m not sure if I want you to associate with their kind, they’re awfully… scruffy. Not fit to interact with people of our class.”
Her words take Scott by surprise, though honestly, at this point in their relationship, they probably shouldn’t. “That’s- that’s not an okay thing to say- what the fuck, Mother? Jimmy is one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met, and John and Laura are better parents than you and Father ever were.” Now that he knows his mother can’t control him through her magic, Scott suddenly feels a whole damn lot more confident. Of course, even without her siren powers, Mother is a master manipulator, but at least now he knows that if she tries her magic again, he has a way to cancel it out.
“Hm,” Scott’s mother mutters noncommittally, scrutinously looking over her nails with faked interest before meeting Scott’s eyes, where her wide grin has grown back on her face. “Anyways- are you interested in learning more about the rapport, how to manage and utilize it, et cetera?’
As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, (because if he didn’t know his mother was a terrible person, he sure does now) Scott is. He’s insanely interested, he’s never really had a chance to learn about this part of his heritage, of his backstory- and if it’s special, what he and Jimmy share, he wants to find some way to control it so they aren’t both just bowled over by memories whenever emotions get too high.
“Yes.” He voices the answer against his best judgment, he says the wordsAnd that’s it. Mother has him in checkmate, there’s no getting out of this, and from the look on her face, he can tell that she knows she’s won. Once again, she’s won.
“Fantastic!” Karissa claps her hands together again, kicking off her spiked heels under the table and grabbing Scott by his shoulder, steering him upstairs and into her study, a room Scott’s never been allowed inside until now.
“But, of course, no knowledge comes without a price,” Mother smiles with a fake, dripping sweetness, grabbing books down off the bookshelves of this unfamiliar room, her long, turquoise nails a striking color against the black binding as she pulls a particular volume off the shelf.
To be honest, Scott had known this was coming: he knew there was no way his manipulative, power-thirsty mother would simply teach him the ways of sirens, it really wasn’t even a possibility that there wasn't a catch. Sometimes Scott wonders what would have happened if he had grown up with different parents, and then he realizes it’s a miracle he isn’t as fucked up as others in his situation have been. For the most part, he’s a genuinely kind, empathetic person, and he’s surprised, when he thinks about it, that he hasn’t turned out differently.
“Okay, what’s the price then?” Scott asks skeptically, bringing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. He leans cautiously up against the closed, creme-colored door, shoulders tent and alert.
“I want you to participate in my experiment.” The words flow off Karissa’s tongue smoothly, like honeyed butter, so confident that Scott can’t even imagine something else his mother might have said.
“Of course you do,” he mutters, pursing his lips and trying to conceal the intense fear rushing through his veins.
“I promise, it’s completely ethical,” Mother smiles in such a way that makes Scott certain it’s not ethical at all, sitting down at the desk and picking up the books she’d grabbed from the shelves.
“Somehow, given your history, I highly doubt that.”
“Oh, quit your grumbling,” his mother simpers, poking Scott in the middle of his nose on the way out the door, books carried effortlessly under her arm. “Come on, it’ll be a fun bonding experience for you and your boyfriend! And you can bring along some other friends too! Of course, I’ve already advertised throughout your school and gotten several submissions from students who want to join, but it just wouldn’t be the same without my favorite son in the competition.”
“I’m your only son,” Scott points out, following his mother (like a lost puppy, little as he wants to admit it) as she sashays through the halls, back downstairs, and into the basement. “And also, what do you mean ‘competition’?”
Mother hums, infuriatingly, and Scott can tell she knows she’s got him on the hook. “Oh, you know, a little game. A few of my friends’ kids are going to be participating too, and of course, you will be paid handsomely. Would you like me to list off the people who have agreed to join?”
“...Sure.”
“The first person who signed up, almost immediately as I put up the fliers, was this boy named Grian, an avian. He goes to your school, doesn’t he?” Karissa doesn’t wait for an affirmative answer from Scott, one that she quite obviously already knows, instead barreling on. “I saw a certain spark in Grian, so I’ve given him some… special privileges. Two boys, best friends named Impulse and Skizz, signed up as well; I believe they go to the public school downtown? A couple others too. Oh, and I can’t believe my silly mind, I almost forgot to tell you that your dear friend Joel has also signed on!” The woman claps her hands in a satisfied manner, and Scott wants to throw up.
It is very clear that she hasn’t forgotten, she never did, she’s just been holding onto that bit of information as a last resort. Scott doesn’t want Joel alone in anything his mother’s concocting, especially not if it has something to do with the Watchers. If he wasn’t checkmated before, he certainly is now- there is no way he’s letting Joel deal with whatever horrific experiment his mother has concocted this time.
“Fine. Fine! If you’ve managed to somehow get Joel roped into this, I guess I’ll join! It’s not like I have any choice, anyway.” Scott spits out the words like poison gracing his tongue, and he can see the edges of his shades frosting over from his anger out of the corners of his eyes.
Mother’s cheshire cat grin grows even wider, her heavily mascaraed eyes opening wide in mock surprise. “Oh, Scott, thank you so much! I knew I could count on you,” she smiles, sighing dramatically as if everything would have been ruined if Scott hadn’t decided to play into her sick little mind games.
“Yeah, great, cool. I’m going home.” He’s done. He’s so done with his bitch of a mother, why did he ever think it could be different, she’s always been like this, always-
“This is your home, dear!” Karissa looks somehow offended, and the utter irony and sickness of the situation chills Scott to the bone, a disgusted sneer moving across his features as naturally as a skim of oil slimes across the surface of a cup of water.
“No. It’s not.” As Scott walks out, Mother makes no move to stop him- but he can feel her eyes searing into his back, almost hear the way her teeth click together when she smiles. She doesn’t call out until he’s already halfway down the garden path.
“Scott, darling! Come over, this time tomorrow, and I’ll teach you about the rapport, what it means, and how you can harness it. Don’t forget to try and get Jimmy and Owen and Shelby into the game, there’s a limited number of slots!”
Scott’s back tenses at the word game.
Nothing good can come of this.
As he steps through the now-deserted streets, he pulls up his phone to check for notifications he might have missed, and inadvertently realizes it’s somehow well past midnight. Where did the time go? What has he been doing all day? Jimmy must be worried sick-
His phone rings, and speak of the devil, it’s the canary himself. Scott picks up immediately, pressing the phone to his ear, Jimmy’s voice panicked but still coherent on the other end.
“Scott, thank god you picked up! Are you okay? What happened, where have you been?! Owen and I have been so worried about you, and John and Laura were just about to call the police to file a missing persons report- but I insisted calling you one more time and thank god I did, please get home soon, we’re all so worried-” Jimmy takes a break to breathe, and something seems to snap in him, his anger pouring through the phone and almost making Scott flinch.
“Scott, where the fuck have you been?! I haven’t seen you since noon, you’ve been gone for more than 12 hours, I was so scared, explain yourself right this fucking instant! Or I swear to god-”
“Jimmy, I’m fine, I’m fine.” Scott tries to disregard the pang of affection he feels for his boyfriend, because he was worried about him, someone was actually worried about Scott- “My mother was in town, so I decided to pay her a visit. I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”
“Losing track of time is three or four hours gone, maybe five. YOU WERE GONE FOR TWELVE AND A HALF HOURS. I know you have a better explanation, a real explanation, and I want to hear it. Now. Also, wind back: your MOTHER was in town?! You mean the abusive, manipulative cult leader mother who I’ve heard oh so LITTLE about?”
“Okay, okay, let me get home, and I’ll explain everything, I swear.”
There’s silence on the other end, and Scott feels a bit of anxiety set in. He’s really made Jimmy worry, probably Owen too, and he can’t even imagine the panic that must be going through John and Laura’s minds right now. Scott swallows deeply, quickening his pace and stepping down the well-tread route to his home. He doesn’t look behind him as his mother steps out onto the deck and watches him go, a manipulative, wide-toothed smile painted ferociously across her face.
“I’ve got you now,” she whispers, quietly, as Scott’s heart thumps green in her enhanced vision. He doesn’t know it yet, but he doesn’t have a choice in whether he participates in her game or not. It’s not an option anymore.
But Karissa, through years of reading psychology books in her free time, through years of leading her cult (yes, she does admit it’s a cult- not that she would to anyone’s face)- through all this, Karissa has found that the best way to make someone do something you want is to make them feel as if they’ve got a choice.
Even when they absolutely do not. Scott has been ensnared, and because of his rapport, so has Jimmy. Now, it’s only a matter of time before they realize it themselves. It’s only a plus that Scott has already agreed of his own free will to participate in her game.
A quiet laugh spreads across the post-midnight town, a cackle that sets deep into the bones of any who hear it, tossing and turning in their sleep. Oh yes, Karissa is ready. She has been ready for as long as she can remember.
