chapter 1: his problem :pensive:

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childe bends down on the toilet, sighing. "why the fuck can't i poop" he says, sadly putting his face in his hands. "all i wanted to do was take a dump on my bed while being lactating." eventually he starts pushing, pushing so hard to the point where he cant breathe anymore. he couldn't feel anything come out of his ass slowly coming out. nagito pushes as hard as he can, grunting in pain. he eventually gives up and starting crying on the toilet. he sits there crying for hours and hours not being able to poop. 

days pass by and childe is still sitting on the bathroom floor weeping, "WHY, WHY CAN'T I POOP" he screams, his screams echos in the room. he gets up, pulling up his pants then bashing the sink in anger. all he wanted to do was take a shit on the bed while having sex, scaramouche slowly opens the door confused, "is everything alright kiddo?" he asks concerned; childe looks up, his eyes puffy from crying for days. "I CANT FUCKING POOP." he shouts. scaramouche flinches, "look man, it's probably your digestive system or something." he explains, hitting his hands on his hips, "maybe we should take you to the doctor if you want, sitting on the toilet butt-naked isn't swag.". childe gets up glaring into scaramouche's eyes. "i dont need a mother fucking doctor, i KNOW my digestive system is fine and i know that im ok, i am NOT CONSTIPATED." he shouts. scaramouche sighs and closes the door and walks away leaving childe by himself. 

hours go by, and childe is still in the bathroom, stuggling to poop. he scratches his head, looking between his legs. "you know, maybe JUST maybe i might be constipated." he says, rubbing his eyes. he gets up again, pulling up his pants and washing his hands. he walks out of the bathroom looking for scaramouche.



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