Chapter Text
Anonymous 13/10/XX (Sun) 8:02:24
I’m a 19 year old male college student. I’ve always wanted to fuck a cuntboy, but I can’t find any in my area. Time skip. Recently, there’s been this exchange student group in my college. One of them caught my attention. He looks and acts like a guy, but he’s very small and has a high pitched voice. Is it my chances?
Childe took a deep breath as he pressed the enter button of his keyboard. Only the blue light of his computer illuminated his room, and a chill ran down his spine as a strong gust of wind blew through his open window.
Childe sighed and pushed his chair away from his desk, sitting up to close said window and pull its navy blue curtains. At the same moment, he heard his mother call him from downstairs for dinner. He sighed once more.
He took a step closer to his computer to close the 4chan tab, instead letting his wallpaper, a cartoony narwhal, on display. He threw a red hoodie on before twisting the handle of his bedroom door and stepping outside.
As he walked down the stairs, he could hear the typical banter of his little siblings coming from the living room. Something about Anthon stealing Teucer’s stuffed toy, Mr. Cyclop, and Tonia hiding it. The smell of a warm, home cooked meal filled his nostrils, and he could hear the faint sound of a TV playing in the background.
“Daragój !” His mother greeted him as he entered the dining room. “Could you, please, go and get your siblings?” She gave him a soft smile, her eyes crinkling. Shortly after, she got back to her pot, turning the stove off and taking some bowls from the cupboard above her.
Childe left the dining room, heading in the direction of his siblings' shout. His brain felt foggy.
When Childe entered the living room, he found Tonia standing on the armrest of the couch, a blanket tied around her neck, like a sort of cape, and Anthon bowing at her feet. Teucer was nowhere to be seen. Childe raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame.
“Tonia.” He warned in a cold tone. The little girl’s head snapped in his direction, as well as Anthon. A soon as she saw him, she jumped to the floor, gesturing for her brother to stand up. She ran toward Childe with a timid expression.
“Hi Ajax.” She blinked at him, her rosy cheek puffing out as she smiled.
“Where’s Teucer?” Childe asked, looking down at his sister. The little girl glanced at Anthon with a frown, before coughing.
“Oh! He’s-” Tonia couldn’t finish her sentence, because a muffled sound came from her and her brother’s pillow castle. The little girl looked mortified “uh-”. Childe gave her a disappointed look before sighing.
“Tonia…” The big brother warned. “Is that Teucer I’m hearing?” The little girl balanced herself back and forth, staying silent. He sighed once again, walking toward the fort. He removed the ‘door’ in a swift motion, and discovered his youngest sibling wrapped in a blanket, like a hostage. Teucer was whining, trying his best to free himself from his restraint.
From the inside of the small castle, Childe could hear his siblings’ giggle fading away as they ran in the dining room. Childe quickly unwrapped the blanket, gently bringing Teucer in his lap.
“You okay buddy?” He gave him a soft smile, gently squeezing his shoulder. The little boy nodded.
“It was funny, at first.. but then, I couldn’t breathe properly.. I wasn’t having fun anymore.” He fidgeted with the strings of Childe’s hoodie, turning the fabric around his small fingers. Childe took Teucer’s hand, sitting back up.
“I’ll give those two a word. But before that, we need to eat dinner.” He cradled his little brother in his arms, the small ginger looked attentively at his brother as the two made their way throughout the long, dusty hallway. “Mama asked me to bring you three to the dining room, but I think your siblings already went.”
Once the pair came to the said dining room, Tonia and Anthon were already sitting at the table. And as usual, Tonia was lecturing her brother about how important it was to hold his knife and fork the right way.
Childe sat Teucer in his chair, ruffling his hair before walking toward his mother’s direction. He leaned against the counter, offering her a hand.
“Need any help?” She turned her head to look at him, giving him a quick smile.
“No, no. Go sit down, daragój. Tonia and Anthon already helped me set the table” She waved her hand at him, gesturing for him to go sit with his siblings. He gave her a nod, pushing himself from the counter and walking toward the table.
Soon enough, his mother came to the table with a large pot of borscht, and started serving her children. Teucer started throwing a tantrum because his mother hadn’t served the soup in his frog bowl, Anthon urged his mother to give him at least twice as much as Tonia so he could surpass her height, and Tonia groaned about not having enough potatoes. Meanwhile, Childe stayed silent, not really listening to their exchange.
Once Childe’s mother finally sat down, they all started eating their meal, and Teucer got agitated.
“Where’s papa ? Is he not eating with us tonight either ?” At the little boy’s words, a defeating silence filled the room. Tonia and Anthon exchanged worried glances, Childe clenched his jaw, and their mother’s spoon fell into her soup. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure.
“Teucer. I thought we’d talked about this.” She reached to put a hand on his small shoulder. “Papa is on holiday for a bit, he won’t come back for a little while.” The little boy whined, pouting.
“But!- I want to play with papa, I miss him!” He shouted, weakly bashing his fist against the table.
“Teucer!” His mother shouted back. “What did I say about your tantrum?!” She sighed exaggerantly, warning the kid with her pointer finger.
Childe took a deep breath, holding it in and blocking out the sound of his mother’s voice.
This was going to be a long week.
-
A cold breeze enveloped Childe’s body, even under layers and layers of clothes, buried under his warmest blanket. It was like a constant cold, that wouldn’t leave him no matter how he dressed, or what he did. Like a freezing blizzard, gnawing at his insides.
His earphones were plugged in, and he was scrolling on Reddit as he listened to a podcast about how women could easily achieve their goals and humiliate you if you weren’t careful enough. He would’ve preferred scrolling on 4chan, on his computer, but it was late and Childe had classes tomorrow.
The wind rattled against the tree’s branch outside— scratching and scraping at his window. In his deranged mind, Childe liked to pretend it was that tranny’s nails digging in his headboard when he’d take his innocence away.
Tomorrow, he’d definitely take his chance.
-
Biology class, second period. Rain hit the classroom window, the smell of humid tarmac filling his nostril. Childe sat at the back of the room, near the exit door. Just in case. Nobody, aside from him and a few noisy, popular girls, were in the classroom yet. He typed on his computer, a 4chan tab open.
Anonymous 14/10/XX (Mon) 8:57:29
2day, ill talk to that troon. Put it in its place, show it who’s the real man. Don’t know if we share classes together, but I’ll hunt it down to find it if nece-
“Tartaglia! Slacking off again?” Excepting a teacher, Childe raised his head, and a sickening giggle left the girl’s lips standing in front of him. The redhead’s cheeks felt warm, and he quickly closed his laptop, the sound echoing in the room. Towering over him, a group of foids, breeder, female— whatever you call it.
“Aww.. C’mon Mona! He’s just in his own lil’ world, let him be…” she snickered mockingly, twirling strands of blond hair around her finger. The other girls hid their hideous smiles with their neatly manicured hands, and for a split second, Childe wondered how his picture perfect classmate would look like if their skulls were split open on the concrete.
“Do you need something?” Childe retorted in a way less menacing tone than he intended. Mona hummed, and drummed her fingertips against the table. She glanced at her friends, before smiling.
“By any chance, do you know Scaramouche?” For once, she seemed to be genuine, probably not for long. She blinked at him, and Childe’s cheeks warmed up even more. To be honest, he’d never looked a girl in the eyes for so long.
“Uh… is this person in our class?…” he cocked his head to the side, his glasses slightly slipping off of his nose. A rush of excitement ran through his veins. Why were they talking to him? Was Mona interested in him? Maybe this ‘scaramouche’ was a girl? Did she have a crush on him?
“Urh! Tart’, you’re definitely dense. Do you really, really, not know who he is?” Lumine snorted, her brows furrowing. For some reason, she seemed pissed. On the other hand, Mona sighed.
“My cousin ! He’s new, uh-… all black, menacing eyes, weird accent—like yours— you’ve surely seen him!” She explained, slamming her palm against the wooden table. Childe squinted, unsure.
“Uh… I don’t think I know him..” he paused, putting back his glasses in their initial position. “What’s the matter?”
Lumine sighed as her gaze wandered toward Mona, crossing her arms. Another girl, with a piercing gaze and sharp fashion style sighed. She brushed something off of her dress before speaking up in a monotone tone. “Scaramouche, a junior exchange student— from Japan, speaks English with a strong accent— always wearing red eyeliner, not very social. Is that a better description?”
Childe’s eyes lit up with realization— it was him— his blood seemed to pump faster in his veins, like a renewed fervor had just hit him in the stomach. He tried to keep calm through the information that his prey was, in fact, not an illusion made from his sickened mind.
“Uh-huh, yeah, uhm– saw him around, I guess.” He let out a shaky breath, his nervousness clearly noticeable if someone had paid attention to his body language for a second longer.
Mona seemed to beam at the news, a suspicious smirk on her perfect lips. “Well, if that’s the case, could you befriend him?”
For a moment, Childe really thought he’d pass out on the spot. Lumine chimed in.
“Don’t get your hopes up— Scaramouche is a weirdo, the fucked up kind getting passed around campus like a blunt, no sense of self control or a drop of kindness in his bones” She scrunched up her nose, a clear expression of disgust on her face. Mona didn’t seem particularly phased by the harsh accusations against her cousin.
And before Childe could even start to daydream the things he’d do to Scaramouche, Chiori, the third girl who’d previously intervened to describe the boy better, spoke once again. “Those are only rumors from his old friends, don’t take Lumine too seriously,” Then, glaring at the latter “she loves to extrapolate.”
Mona rolled her eyes at the two women, focusing her attention back on Childe. “So, what do you say? Deal?” A faux smile was now plastered on her face.
He raised a brow, doubtful now of what their true intentions were. “I don’t– I don't understand. Uh, what do you win in this situation, exactly?”
She sighed. “He lives at my place, never leaves the spare room my parents kindly let him use and, last but not least, is a total loser with no social life.” She paused, as if to let the words sink in. But, as dense as Childe is, he didn’t seem to get the hint. “I thought, since you’re, no shade intended, also a total loser with no social life, you could maybe keep him company. Both you and I gain something!”
Dumbfounded, the ginger only stared back at Mona, his glasses sliding off of his nose ever so slightly. “What?” At that, the bell rang and the three girls turned on their heels to sit down at their desks. Only the bluenette lingered for a second longer, talking over her shoulder “Do me a favor, Ajax, and talk to him.” Before she left as casually as she came, taking a sit with her friends a little further away.
The class started filling with students, whom he loathed as much as anyone in this goddamned world. Loud foid pushing one another in playful banter, groups of sub5 male making their way into the room, or a duo of unreachable chad sitting in the front row. Childe blocked out the noise as usual, opening his laptop once again as he waited for the teacher to walk inside.
Pulled out of his reverie as he was typing on twitter a hateful comment, he saw a silhouette putting their bag on the table beside him, which was unusual considering his reputation. When he turned around to catch the other person’s face better, he almost fell from his seat immediately– Scaramouche.