Work Text:
Chapter two, woop woop.
Pls read pt1 for context
He at many times considered himself a freak of nature. Does he have blood inside his veins? Likely, yet is it real with the metallic taste that was described in ancient scriptures? Are his lashes frayed wood, or is it really hair that irritates his eyes beyond belief?
He has no father. Not necessarily that he left him from a young age, yet biologically, he had no father. He was immune to many ‘your dad is so hot’ jokes from his ridiculous classmates during tenth grade. They were all hormonal; he strangely wasn’t. He wouldn’t go through puberty as many; he simply was etched with it at the very beginning. He would’ve been such a ladies' man if he weren’t a…
…homosexual.
He was quite literally perfection for many; he was a puppet. One of her creations. He doesn’t have a father, but he very much had his mother. He often fantasized about the soft hands of his creator, cupping his odd, textured cheeks, rosy from crying.
Each child, regardless of age, has the necessity of their mother, yet not all mothers have the necessity of a child.
He had been sculpted with human emotion, which was his only flaw. He wasn’t a necessity any longer. Rubble and trash, he could recall the memory vaguely.
‘’Oh, Mama! Is it true we’re going for ice cream?‘’ He squeaked; his hair was longer than anybody dared, no, cared to cut his hair. A messy bun as he trailed after her, she said it was to make him feel much better after he committed his first mass-genocide. She bought him a cone, told him to hold her wallet, which seemed strangely empty for such a goddess. Then what the only word he could explain was she ‘skedadled’ out of there.
Anti-climactic goodbye, no begging. Just him standing there alone with his ice cream melting in his palms. He had eventually gotten bored and left. He hadn’t even noticed the twin lines dripping from his eyes.
His eyes were sweaty, and he lied to the cashier smoothly. He, he wanted to believe that when he attempted to buy a twenty-five-dollar gift card to Walmart.
It had been a century later when he met the little dragonet. Oh, Durin, his wonderful, dotting, darling Durin. He had matured vastly then. He was certainly a handsome fellow now with a dragon companion; he signed him up for hockey early on. It had been four centuries since, and he still is horrendous at it. Likely holy, even Scaramouche was becoming increasingly impatient.
Then Sethos, he was a bright, young, civilized man when he met him. There, he had come to his realization, he liked men. With that snorting laugh, those beautiful, olive eyes that resembled the blades of grass during his youth centuries ago. He loved that man.
Then he watched Breaking Bad and became a stoner. Oh well, Scaramouche can move on from him after Sethos dies. And the hot, steamy, pounding wrestling they had was legendary! Like wow! Poor Durian, he would hear the soft thumps and that ‘yes, Papi,’ from the bedroom.
(he was unsuccessful at making Walter White’s “sugar,” which hit harder than expected.)
Now imagine his shock when he went to the mailbox the following morning from the odd confrontation of Durin and Sethos. Durin’s sweet voice whispered to his ear, ‘I’ll protect you when I’m bigger, Papa, I promise.’ He loved that boy as his son. He put him to sleep and kissed his forehead before tripping over his hockey stick. He put so much money into that damn sport, and he still is horrendous at it. Does he look like he’s made of money?
Anyways, he noticed the wax seal, which looked vaguely familiar. He tore it open as he heard grumbling from Sethos as he awoke. He would’ve been naked if it weren't for Scaramouche dressing him as a toddler..
He opened it, and it was a letter from the bank. Sethos made a withdrawal again. He’s going to chew him out later, but he noticed another one deep in the mail box. He dug it out and tore it open even more roughly. He was drowsy; he wasn’t paying much attention.
Dear valued guest,
I, Yae Miko and Raiden…Ei are getting married soon!
Yes, she finally said yes after the incident. Well, now that same sex couple marriages are legal, we didn’t want to miss the opportunity before the Donald Trump community destroys it.
Anyways, we are having a brunch before the wedding, please come whenever! Bring two guests or fewer, lots of love,
Yae Miko! ‘
His first thought was why would anybody marry that heartless woman? Then the slow confusion, and he realized she was a lesbian?!
That’s how he got there, in front of a random building with mouth-watering smells around, confused and nervous. He hasn’t felt this nervous since the Medieval era! He was groomed amazingly, even Sethos sobered up somewhat. He resembled the man he had vowed to love all those years ago. Durin simply wore his formal clothes too; he dammed his tiers, he seemed to be avoiding Sethos, sticking closer to Scaramouche. His cheek pressed against his knee. Scaramouche crouched down and fixed his small bow tie. He watched a TedTalk before to see how to be confident.
He was very anxious about one thought, though, Sethos’s religion. He followed ‘Mysgonyalogy’ which he invented himself randomly on a Thursday afternoon. He barely could handle one female; could he handle two, though?
Scaramouche took the deepest breath and knocked on the door.
Then, with a burst, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever had the honour to marvel at. She was tall, with pink hair, his mother had a taste he thought flustered.
‘’Oi! Ei! Get your beautiful, glorious plum bottom over here! You won’t believe who just came! It’s a surprise.’’ She rubbed her eyes; they were red and irritated. Yae Miko leaned closer to Scaramouche and raised her eyebrows. ‘’Wowsers, you look practically like her!’’ She made a low whistle.
Nevermind, he deadpanned, he and his mother had the same taste in partners.
Sethos froze at the sight, his hands turning into fists. Scaramouche took a deep breath. Please tell me he hasn’t relapsed yet. ‘’You told me it was a bachelor party!’’ He hissed to Scaramouche.
Durin gawked at her, his jaw on the floor. ‘’Woah misses you’re beautiful.’’ He giggled awkwardly, rubbing his nape. He’s got a crush!
Yae Miko frowned at him, a crease appearing on her forehead. ‘’Who the hell is this guy?’’ Exactly like Sethos.
What does she mean by surprise?
Another flutter of steps as a familiar, haunting voice called out. ‘’Miko! Shawt the fawk up, I am making da chicken.’’
Oh, that haunting Chinese accent.
Her voice was featherlight as she called her surname with such gentleness it ached his heart.
Wish Sethos called him that instead of ‘Scaracoochie, Scarabooky, Scaramouchi, Scarapookie.’ But apparently, he can say his name perfectly during the night when Durin goes to bed early.
Then those dazzling, beautiful, insect, cold eyes appeared behind Yae Miko. Raiden Shogun.
His nape burned with his symbol, fitting perfectly in hers. His chest squeezed.
She was a fine mother back then. He appreciated his short-term innocence before the genocide. ‘’The Puppet, you have failed the family and me.’’ His last memory of her voice, no, more accurately, ‘’Da Puppet, you have faird me and da famuari.’’
Envy and hatred boiled up as Sethos began to chew the gum that the therapist prescribed to him. Durin was still gawking at Yae Miko.
‘’Oh.’’ She narrowed her eyes, looking away, displeased. ‘’I told you to nawt inviwte him.’’
She hadn’t even invited him!
‘’Well, I wanted to meet my step-son and-’’ Yae Miko turned around, placing a hand not very discreetly over her bottom, exactly like Sethos does to him on à Sunday night.
‘’Don’t.’’ Both snapped in unison.
The chicken was cold, he thought numbly as Sethos struggled to pick up the chopsticks with his restraint. He attempted to lunge at the two women, Raiden Ei kneed him in the sto,mach and he spluttered on the floor. ‘’Rweally? Couldn’atn fwind better man?’’
‘’Raiden, that is my boyfriend! Do not disrespect him!’’
‘’Boy, I am talking rwo him!’’
They were having some pork-cabbage dumplings, beef dumplings, soup dumplings, fried dumplings and rwice. It was just dumplings. Raiden and Yae Miko sat beside each other as they ate quietly, Yae Miko closing an eye at a time, like a lizard.
‘’So you’re getting married?’’ Durin, bless the dragonet, asked as he stabbed the filling of the dumpling improperly. Scaramouche placed a rubber band between his fingers so Durin could eat more easily. Durin made a small, embarrassed squeak. Scaramouche simply patted his hair down, then cut himself with his horns. He hissed in pain and slapped Durin’s head hard before whispering an apology.
Durin accepted it after tears and promised Disney World trips. ‘’I am not going to Disneyland! I do not want to see princesses, little girls, or older women! It’s filled to the brim with…with…hic…estrogen!’’ Sethos cried out, oh, he’s in withdrawal. At least he’s not a pedophile.
‘’Oh, nah. I just…I just you know decided to catfish you guys…’’ Miko giggled as she ate the soup dumpling from a cat bowl, is this like a weird, kinky thing. Eats like an animal, like holy. Sethos kept crying silently.
‘’What do you mean?’’ Scaramouche questioned her as he ate with the most perfect posture ever, unlike what Sethos made him do last night.
‘’Well, since your momma and I are dating, shouldn’t I make up a lie for both of us to meet?’’
“Congratulations! How about we celebrate over a bottle of vodka?”
Sly fox.
Raiden didn’t seem overly excited; she clearly went against her wishes. She seemed to be ignoring them.
Sethos made a growling sound. Perhaps if they cover his eyes, it’ll help him not begin beating himself in an attempt to free himself. It can also count as exposure therapy.
‘’Ah, ma’am! How did you make the dumplings?’’ Durin asked in an attempt to make conversation.
Raiden decided that maybe she should try conversing with her long-lost mistake’s family. ‘’Uh, I cwan demonstrate.’’
Like that, they were in the kitchen, and they had to cover Sethos’s eyes with Scaramouche’s belt. Sethos kept on smelling it as if it were an artifact. ‘’AH! Not the kitchen! I am supposed to be buying stuff for the kitchen, not being inside the kitchen!’’ His full name is Sethos ‘John’ Mysogistic.
‘’Fwist, we have to wewt the paper.’’ She grabbed an asian paper thingy. I am not even going to attempt to make it accurate. I am NOT a racist. I hate everybody equally.
‘’Oh, I know what else I can wet.’’ Miko poked her tongue out and rubbed her palms together.
“Me?” Sethos perked up. Scaramouche sprayed him with a water bottle lightly as if he were a neutered dog. He smirked ‘’Kinky.’’
‘’Miko, the rwice paper.’’
Sethos deflated like a balloon, then returned to sniffing the belt, licking it now(ho ho what else he can lick). Scaramouche made a face which couldn’t be described by Shakespeare himself. That's bad.
‘’Ah, yes, the paper!’’
‘’Newxt, is da filling, we need to make da rice thingy fwilled with stuffing.’’
‘’Oh my, I know what to stuff alright.’’
(It seems as if the alcohol is starting to take its toll)
‘‘MIKO. Anyway, go to da fridwge four mweat.’’
The fridge, oh, the dreaded fridge. Sethos had already begun to drag himself forward for it. Budweiser, Scaramouche noticed as he picked it up. He ripped a cold one; he’ll need it now for sure. Chugging it faster than before, Sethos helped him practice, if you know what I mean.
Durin learned about the birds and the bees before he learned how to do a HOCKEY STOP.
‘’Oh, I’m going to be the next Kobe Papa!’’ THAT’S NOT EVEN THE SAME SPORT. Do not disrespect my man, my legend, Kobe Bryant.
#GONETOOSOON
‘’Is this boy whatever you say it, gawy? With his purple hair? He looks woman.’’ Raiden ‘Mommy’ Shogun asked.
‘’Ma’am! This is 2026!’’ Scaramouche hissed.
‘’Bring back homophobia’’ She was still living in the Heian Era.
‘’I second that.’’ Sethos raised his arm, kneeling beside Scaramouche. Durian frowned at that. ‘’I’m…not.’’
‘’Damnit!’’ Sethos swore. ‘’That’s what I was hoping for!’’ He cried out.
‘’You wanted homophobia back, but you want me to be gay? Wait, aren’t you in a homosexual relationship now?’’ Scaramouche questioned. ‘’My mother would not approve of this.’’ Yae Miko took the opportunity to go right behind Raiden Shogun, rubbing her thin palms against one another.
‘’I do neat’’ Raiden Shogun’s eyes narrowed, he suddenly felt small. As that day. Cause I’m a creep, he thought bitterly.
‘’No, my actual mother.’’
‘’Who da fawk is she.’’
Scaramouche closed his eyes, recalling that beautiful soul.
It was a cold afternoon, rain beating down on him in a sudden downpour. The ice slipped into his clothes, dampening him. His bangs fell over his narrowed, dull eyes. The ionic anime spark had seemed to vanish. September 28, that day had been the greatest and cruelest night of the year. His suit jacket was deserted, his breath fogged the cool air. Tears pricked his eyelashes uncomfortably.
He was fifteen years old physically; he had really been three hundred years old, but details, details. It was a dark moment for Scaramouche. He had recently gone to the nearest stadium, window shopping.
There, he had heard the most gut-wrenching melody his Heian ass had ever encountered. Radiohead.
Specifically ‘Creep.’
He went straight for the bridge.
He swung his legs up, he crouched on the railing, it gave a low, startled groan. How many times has this fence guarded and had seen men, boys simply never look back. How many times has it stared at the back of someone who doesn’t dare to look back? How many times had it cried? It’s idiotic, the fence cannot cry, perhaps the rain sheds itself for it.
Poor, poor design of keeping people from falling off the edge.
It wasn’t the fence’s fault, it was it’s creators.
‘ But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
Oh-oh, oh-oh
She's runnin' out the door
She's runnin' out
She run, run, run, run
RUN ‘
(Don’t trade mark me.)
The lyrics hit him harder than ever before. What the hell is he doing here? He’s not human, never would be. Biologically, mentally, hypothetically, neither figuratively nor imaginatively. And she ran, she created him, engenieered him and she ran out the door!
She ran out the door and she left half melting ice cream stained hands there. She hadn’t sekdadled, she ran. She ran, and ran. Poor design on her part for allowing the genocide causing boy to have a heart. He would never be able to criticize her. How dare she be his only parent and give him her heart, the heart in her chest, the heart that holds her soul and her sword.
The water seemed strangely calming, perhaps it’ll cradle him. Warm, he prayed it was warm. His lashes fluttered shut, and his chest heaved calmer. He has no heart of her, he’s simply Scaramouche.
He didn’t have control when he came, but he has control on how he’d leave.
‘’Radiohead tour in 2026!’’ A loud, childlike voice chimed, it was warm, he was blessed that it was so warm.
Gasp! His spotify wrap isn’t out yet! H ecan’t jump!
He turned sharply, his heart jumping to his throat. A five year old? He gawked in disbelief, how did a five year old get up here? Nor, how does it know about Radiohead? She had silver locks with bright, enormous eyes, they had an old soul in there.
She looked kinda…homeless.
Leaves stuck near her temple, very large shoes unfit for her small feet. She also wasn’t wearing any clothes fit for the cold.
‘’Who are you?’’ He questioned her, frowning as he swung his legs off the fence. The rain dropped to a light drizzle when he did.
‘’I’m Nahida!’’ She chripped.
‘’MAHORAGA-’’