Hush Hush
Fandom: Kingdom
Prompts: 31_days: Flipping Tables & fanfic100: Family
This features Rebecka and Samantha Thompson, Mara’s AU twin daughters, who think they are so clever hiding their Hunting from their mother. Samantha is named for her grandfather Samuel (goes by Sami, the ‘i” dotted with a STAR), while Rebecka was saddle with the more traditional Zingel name. They are both fifteen in this. I'm intentionally keeping the father of the kids vague-- you can pretend he's anyone you want (although I know who he is >D).
The house was being pulled between choking frost and humid death when Rebecka Thompson carefully pulled the front door closed, shifting her worn satchel to cover the suspicious stain on her right thigh. No need for her mother’s searching eyes to linger on that— especially not after the hell she’d reined on stupid Joe Mata’s head after school. So what if they were sort of related— didn’t stop him from being a huge jerk!
The worn pads of feet stung as she slipped the cumbersome dress shoes off; if she could just make it up to her bedroom without her mother hearing her, she might, just might, be able to change out of her ruined school uniform.
Becka was not in the mood to answer her mother’s questions.
Carefully avoiding the squeaky third step, she took her time ascending to the second floor, every inch of her braced against her mother’s shrill demands. She was not prepared to see her sister Sami huddled before her mother’s bedroom, the blonde’s ear pressed firmly against the door and a peculiar, almost hungry expression pulling at her usual perky features.
“What are you-”
“Ssssh!” Sami beckoned Rebecka forward, frantically waving for her to shut her mouth. Samantha might be the older (by a measly ten minutes) of the pair, but Becka really needed to stop her twin’s controlling ways. After all, why did Becka have to-
With a sigh, she obeyed (just as she always did), creeping to the door and settling down across from Sami. The satchel was easily to keep in position to hide the stain. “What are we listening to? Did… did someone call mom?” Becka’s voice hovered between the girls, every syllable shrouded with hesitation.
“Oh no, even better! This has absolutely nothing to do with us for a change!” Sami beamed, her hand muffling her ruby scented words. “I stormed in after classes to find Mom yelling at this weird guy— he looked pretty cool, did you see the motorcycle in the side driveway? Who would have thought MOM knew a guy who rode a motorcycle, Mrs. Volvo herself. Anyway, the minute he saw me, HE started going off, but Mom shoved him upstairs before I could hear anything juicy. They’ve been in here ever since.”
Becka blinked. And then blinked again. She wasn’t sure what in that sequence of events was the most unbelievable— and easily decided it was their mother even talking to a man who rode a motorcycle. “I didn’t see any bike,” She whispered, leaning forward. “I came in through the kitchen.”
That brought Becka firmly into Sami’s appraisal. “But you never come in through the kitchen unless-”
The door abruptly opened inward, sending both girls falling into their mother’s bedroom— and in Becka’s case, face-forward onto a stranger’s shoes. Slowly, Becka raised her eyes, taking in the man’s build, the black leather jacket, and sweat-dampened hair desperately in need of a good comb.
He was frowning down at both the twins, one hand loosely holding a helmet against his hip. Behind him, Becka could make out her mother, hands wound around her chest, a SMILE of all things on her lips.
Whoever that guy is, he has to stay. Becka thought, dazed, as the unidentified man turned back to her mother.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Her mother was smirking. Had Becka entered an alternative universe? It could explain why her hair had changed color. Yes, yes that was the only answer. “Could say the same for you.”
Beside her, Sami gracefully found her way to her feet, her hands resting on her rounded hips. “Alright, I want to know exactly who this guy is.” She declared, her stance solidly rooted in the off-white carpet.
“Yeah.” Becka seconded from her sprawl on the floor. Really, it was safer down here. Even if her mother’s usually pristine room looked like a tornado had torn through it. Even the beautiful end table was flipped over!
“Mara, you made a Jane?.” The man chuckled, looking down at the girl at his feet.
Now, that wasn’t fair. Becka rather liked her Aunt Jane— she had all the best books, and had taught Becka how to make her first fist! When she told the stranger this, it only made him laugh harder.
“So are they Hunting yet?” The man twisted back to her mother, no longer laughing.
Becka’s breath sharpened, but Sami feigned oblivious, tilting her head and frowning. “Hunting animals for sport is wrong. This is Sunset City, not some barbaric, backwater town!”
“They got that inability to lie for shit from you, Mara.”
“I know,” Mara sighed, gesturing towards Becka with her chin. “I mean, look at that one! She’s been trying to hide the daemon slime from her uniforms for a whole year, as if I wouldn’t notice in the wash!”
Wait… daemon slime? Their mother knew what that was?! Becka’s mouth fell wide open. Their mother, their boring, strict, ridiculously organized, PTA leading mother, knew what daemon slime was?
“Well, it explains the hair.” Sami remarked, grabbing Becka’s shirt by the shoulder and yanking her twin up to face the man Becka had a sneaky suspicion wasn’t just another Hunter— but possibly their father.
Fandom: Kingdom
Prompts: 31_days: Flipping Tables & fanfic100: Family
This features Rebecka and Samantha Thompson, Mara’s AU twin daughters, who think they are so clever hiding their Hunting from their mother. Samantha is named for her grandfather Samuel (goes by Sami, the ‘i” dotted with a STAR), while Rebecka was saddle with the more traditional Zingel name. They are both fifteen in this. I'm intentionally keeping the father of the kids vague-- you can pretend he's anyone you want (although I know who he is >D).
The house was being pulled between choking frost and humid death when Rebecka Thompson carefully pulled the front door closed, shifting her worn satchel to cover the suspicious stain on her right thigh. No need for her mother’s searching eyes to linger on that— especially not after the hell she’d reined on stupid Joe Mata’s head after school. So what if they were sort of related— didn’t stop him from being a huge jerk!
The worn pads of feet stung as she slipped the cumbersome dress shoes off; if she could just make it up to her bedroom without her mother hearing her, she might, just might, be able to change out of her ruined school uniform.
Becka was not in the mood to answer her mother’s questions.
Carefully avoiding the squeaky third step, she took her time ascending to the second floor, every inch of her braced against her mother’s shrill demands. She was not prepared to see her sister Sami huddled before her mother’s bedroom, the blonde’s ear pressed firmly against the door and a peculiar, almost hungry expression pulling at her usual perky features.
“What are you-”
“Ssssh!” Sami beckoned Rebecka forward, frantically waving for her to shut her mouth. Samantha might be the older (by a measly ten minutes) of the pair, but Becka really needed to stop her twin’s controlling ways. After all, why did Becka have to-
With a sigh, she obeyed (just as she always did), creeping to the door and settling down across from Sami. The satchel was easily to keep in position to hide the stain. “What are we listening to? Did… did someone call mom?” Becka’s voice hovered between the girls, every syllable shrouded with hesitation.
“Oh no, even better! This has absolutely nothing to do with us for a change!” Sami beamed, her hand muffling her ruby scented words. “I stormed in after classes to find Mom yelling at this weird guy— he looked pretty cool, did you see the motorcycle in the side driveway? Who would have thought MOM knew a guy who rode a motorcycle, Mrs. Volvo herself. Anyway, the minute he saw me, HE started going off, but Mom shoved him upstairs before I could hear anything juicy. They’ve been in here ever since.”
Becka blinked. And then blinked again. She wasn’t sure what in that sequence of events was the most unbelievable— and easily decided it was their mother even talking to a man who rode a motorcycle. “I didn’t see any bike,” She whispered, leaning forward. “I came in through the kitchen.”
That brought Becka firmly into Sami’s appraisal. “But you never come in through the kitchen unless-”
The door abruptly opened inward, sending both girls falling into their mother’s bedroom— and in Becka’s case, face-forward onto a stranger’s shoes. Slowly, Becka raised her eyes, taking in the man’s build, the black leather jacket, and sweat-dampened hair desperately in need of a good comb.
He was frowning down at both the twins, one hand loosely holding a helmet against his hip. Behind him, Becka could make out her mother, hands wound around her chest, a SMILE of all things on her lips.
Whoever that guy is, he has to stay. Becka thought, dazed, as the unidentified man turned back to her mother.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Her mother was smirking. Had Becka entered an alternative universe? It could explain why her hair had changed color. Yes, yes that was the only answer. “Could say the same for you.”
Beside her, Sami gracefully found her way to her feet, her hands resting on her rounded hips. “Alright, I want to know exactly who this guy is.” She declared, her stance solidly rooted in the off-white carpet.
“Yeah.” Becka seconded from her sprawl on the floor. Really, it was safer down here. Even if her mother’s usually pristine room looked like a tornado had torn through it. Even the beautiful end table was flipped over!
“Mara, you made a Jane?.” The man chuckled, looking down at the girl at his feet.
Now, that wasn’t fair. Becka rather liked her Aunt Jane— she had all the best books, and had taught Becka how to make her first fist! When she told the stranger this, it only made him laugh harder.
“So are they Hunting yet?” The man twisted back to her mother, no longer laughing.
Becka’s breath sharpened, but Sami feigned oblivious, tilting her head and frowning. “Hunting animals for sport is wrong. This is Sunset City, not some barbaric, backwater town!”
“They got that inability to lie for shit from you, Mara.”
“I know,” Mara sighed, gesturing towards Becka with her chin. “I mean, look at that one! She’s been trying to hide the daemon slime from her uniforms for a whole year, as if I wouldn’t notice in the wash!”
Wait… daemon slime? Their mother knew what that was?! Becka’s mouth fell wide open. Their mother, their boring, strict, ridiculously organized, PTA leading mother, knew what daemon slime was?
“Well, it explains the hair.” Sami remarked, grabbing Becka’s shirt by the shoulder and yanking her twin up to face the man Becka had a sneaky suspicion wasn’t just another Hunter— but possibly their father.
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