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espresso-lessdepresso · 10 months

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i1.2

fluff pt. 2/2, pt.1/2 here

The orange and red hues of the morning sunrise had blended into the clear crystal blue sky. The sun was much higher, its harsh rays broken by the fluffy clouds which spilt across the sky. The TV in your hotel room read 9:30 am. With a sun covered by a perfectly shaped cloud, the forecast for the day showed a slight drop in temperature, making the summer day pleasant for an outing.

As promising as the day was for a beautiful outing with the perfect weather, you were very much reluctant to get out of bed. Jet lag was the cause of this. Add on the party that took place last night and how all your friends were adamant to stay up as long as possible- you were very sleepy, to say the least. If it weren't for your lovely lovely boyfriend, who you considered to be the human equivalent and or embodiment of a golden retriever puppy, you would have wasted (in his opinion) a perfect day. You would argue that spending the day cocooned in silky soft blankets was not a waste, but you did not have the energy for it. Saying no to your boyfriend was also a whole challenge in itself.

That morning, you had quite literally rolled out of bed.

It started with a very wide awake Charlie coaxing you to wake up, "Come oooon~ Wakey, Wakey~" Then he had begun to tug on the covers when you tried to pull them over your head. Your mistake had been trying to then go on the offence and attempt to tangle Charlie underneath your blankets. The room was filled with the sound of you two giggling before you abruptly stopped, replacing your joyful giggles with nervous and frightful yelps as he decided to overpower you. Soon enough, you were wrestling for your life (and dear blanket) against Charlie who decided to use his full strength on you. With one sweeping strong pull, he had unrolled you from the blanket -cartoon style- and you went rolling over the edge of the bed.

A very unceremonial thud followed suit.

"Holy shit!" Charlie was heavying and laughing because of this whole ridiculous situation. His eyes were shut in crescent shapes and he struggled with wheezing so hard. "Are you okay?" From the floor, you saw the apples of his cheeks turn bright red as he leaned over the bed to check on you. The corners of your lips turned upwards. You would have given him hell at that moment if he wasn't such a ray of sunshine.

"Ah, fuck you." You hissed, not actually meaning the words.

"You know what, that's fair." He replied, still coming down from the laughter.

There was this warm heartfelt moment that hummed between you two, one that often makes you forgive all his foolish and teasing behaviour. Truly, be anyone else instead of him and you would lock them in the bathroom for hours on end and throw away the keys.

Charlie helped you up, pulling you into a hug. The look on your face was still stunned but not displeased. He pushed back the hairs that had circled around your face and forehead and pressed his lips to the crown of your head. One could guess that this was both an act of love or an attempt to calm down his partner who somehow always seemed to prefer sleep over everything. Almost everything. Smiling into the kiss, you let him usher you into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

.✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .

A short while later, you stepped out of the bathroom, the smell of body wash and shampoo following you. The taste of mint lingered in your mouth as you changed out of your nightwear into something more appropriate for an outing- knowing Charlie, you assumed that it would be some type of outing. The sound of shuffling and clinking silverware could be heard. You were then met with the sweet and savoury fragrance of what you could only conclude to be breakfast. Your hair was still a little damp as you walked over to find Charlie. His broad back was facing you as he finished setting up the morning meal.

There was a circular coffee table with two chairs around it. They faced the floor-length windows of the hotel, giving one the view of the entire hotel and the parks and forests that were adjacent to it. Charlie had fully pulled back the heavy and let the sun light up the room. Birds would occasionally perch on the ledge or swirl outside, speeding off to where they needed to be. Back to the food, the table had plated fruits and bowls for oats and yogurt, eggs and toast and other breakfast items that fit to your and Charlie's liking.

As you sat beside him, he hands you your cup of coffee and the smell of it makes you smile with satisfaction. Both you and Charlie would fall into a comfortable silence, eating your breakfast and sipping your morning drink. The silly and playful moments were like the highlights of your relationship with Charlie. But moments like these, quiet breakfasts and enjoying each other's company without even having to speak a word, you would not trade it for the world. This was intimate and domestic. So calm yet still so full of love. He knew how much sugar you liked in your drink and you knew he would drop everything for some yogurt.

He loved yogurt, a lot...Sometimes it made you worry...

Truly, no one could have guessed that only minutes ago, the gentle and innocent-looking man next to you had terrorized you to get out of your blanket cocoon.

"So, I was thinking..." Charlie started after taking a sip, "How about we go on a little date?"

"A date?" You repeated, pleasantly surprised which was evident by the small smile that spread across your face. "I would love to." Leaning over, you placed a pack on his cheek to which he happily hummed. Then a thought struck you, like an arrow out the dark. You knew your boyfriend well enough to ask, "And where might this date take place?"

A nervous chuckle came out of Charlie as he brought a spoon full of oats and yogurt to his mouth. A tight grin plastered across his face as he ate another spoonful instead of answering your question.

You squinted at him, “Charlie?” The tone of your voice dropping made his posture curl inwards slightly towards his bowl.

“You’re going to love it.” He blurted out, clearly avoiding the question when you placed your hand on his shoulder and pulled him towards yourself. He really hoped you would not ask him that. With the way you kept squinting at him, he tried to ease his way out of this situation by giving you a very sweet-dairy-and-oats--flavoured kiss.

“Charlie...” You repeated with an inkling of knowing what direction this conversation was going to go if he was going to answer along the lines of what you were thinking.

He twisted in his seat a bit as he finally tried to answer, “So...think like a picnic...a few miles out and thenlikealittlehikeupasmallmountain."

You didn't catch the string of words that spewed out of Charlie's mouth but you did catch, "A hike?"

An exasperated breath huffed out of you, as though the jet lag came back and hit you for the second time. You were not the least athletic person, but you were definitely not on par with your boyfriend, who starts his morning with a five-kilometre run daily. You were also not one to go on hikes, seeing as you spent most of your day stuck sitting at your desk completing work and staring at a screen. The last time Charlie mentioned that he wanted to go on a little walk, you were left with legs that felt like rubber and could feel your heart beating at your throat.

Green eyes like the forest searched your face in an effort to decipher what you were thinking. He watched your lips form a pout, doing very little to hide your displeasure. “But listen to me first!” He stared again, an amused grin playing on his face “Hear me out-”

“No!” You cried out, falling back on your chair as if already defeated by the mere thought. “The last time you said that, I couldn't feel my legs!”

“But- But it’s a beautiful trail, and there’s an spot for watching deers-”

“Are you willing to lose me just for a hike?” You challenged him, still having a pout on your lips and your eyebrows knit together.

“Are you telling me you would lose against a hike?” He countered, letting out an airy laugh.

“Chaaaaarlieeee...” You slumped against his shoulder, face pressing against the collar of his shirt. You felt his arm move to hug you, rubbing your shoulder as he did. Even though you protested and threw somewhat of a fit, both of you knew you would come around. He felt the sigh-your breath blowing just below his jaw and on his neck. You peered up at him, almost mad at the fact that you both were aware of how brittle your resistance was against him, or how you couldn’t say no to such a ray of sunshine. “That hike better be worth it.”

Charlie then spoke, his voice softer now because your protests had come to an end. He went on to describe the hiking trail in an effort to pique your interest. As he did, his eyes green eyes, sometimes blue when he stood against the sky- they glittered with eagerness and glee. And in his excitement, you found your own joy. After a short drive, the hike would start once you crossed a well-worn bridge which hung over a waterfall that descended into a river. Along the river, the trail ventured into a thick but easy-to-navigate forest. The lush greenery would be in full bloom for the summer weather, with leaves basking in the sun and the small unorganized clusters of flowers spreading a sweet earthy scent into the air. Daylight would break into the shadows from the canopy of trees and shine on the dirt and stone path. You began to visualize the scene as he spoke, almost able to smell the heavy earth atmosphere and hear the ambience of birds chirping and leaves rustling. Charlie tilted his head, almost touching his nose to your forehead, "And imagine, what if....we.... held hands?"

You couldn’t help but mirror his wide-eyed expression as if he had just said the most scandalous of words. Looking at his face, his soft hair swooped, his eyes never dull and cheeks carrying his smile lines, an unexpected feeling of overwhelming love washed over you, like that of the rushing waterfall he described. Charlie went through such great lengths, long flight hours, mismatched schedules and video calls at the most ungodly hours of the night. All for you.

Without a word, your love pushed your lips into his, soft and plump. Butterflies went off in your stomach as his hand gently came up to hold your jaw. This giddy feeling was one you could never get used to, no matter how many times you embraced him in a kiss. The taste of fruity yogurt made you smile. “You’re carrying me back. All the way back.”

“Of course.”

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Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

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#charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle fanfiction #charlie slimecicle fanfic #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #slimecicle fanfic #slimecicle fanfiction #slimecicle x reader #slimecicle imagine #charlie slimecicle fluff #slimecicle fluff

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audioaujom · 6 months

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11:00 AM, Utility Tunnels

FNaF:SB Hub, < prev, next >

We’ve finally made it to Charlie’s section! These are technically alts of the previous writes, as they will be sort of the same, except now it’s Charlie’s turn to be miserable lol

Enjoy all the upcoming madness!

Word Count: 1362

Face to face with Freddy’s glowing eyes, Charlie chuckled nervously as the animatronic’s expression turned remorseful. “Uhm, Freddy?”

“I… am terribly sorry.” Freddy apologized, shambling awkwardly towards the large red cylinder in the corner of the maintenance room. “The recharge cycle had not completed when I found you. You must continue without me.”

“What? Uhm, absolutely not.” Charlie crossed his arms, watching as Freddy disappeared inside and the door slid closed behind him. “Did you happen to forget that this entire building wants to kill me?”

All he received in return was a sad smile and Freddy’s eyes falling closed, turning to glance around his surroundings in annoyance.

“Awesome! Super informative answer, man.”

Passing by the now familiar animated screen and giving it a small high five, Charlie pushed open the large set of double doors to try and make his way up to the entrance by himself. He hesitated immediately, hearing loud footsteps from the other side of a storage rack blocking the path down the hallway. Eyes peeled for movement but not seeing any, he took several slow, careful steps down the hall only to realize the noises he was hearing were coming from a door to his right labeled as a gender neutral bathroom.

Luckily the door didn’t creak as he very carefully pulled it open into the hallway, instantly shutting it as beyond the row of decrepit stalls stood Glamrock Chica, bent over a pile of garbage she was snacking on.

“Oh. Lovely!” He whispered to himself, the panic forcing his heart to beat faster as he tried to keep himself quiet. Glancing around the small hallway and spotting a pile of rather heavy looking paint cans in a precarious stack on the metal shelving blocking his way, he reached out to tip them over—Chica instantly going quiet inside the bathroom. Keeping one foot wedged into the door frame, he waited impatiently for the instant the other door opened as Chica exited so he could duck into the bathroom without being spotted.

She bawked in confusion when she noticed the spilled paint cans, Charlie not paying any attention to the inside of the bathroom as jogged through it to slowly push open the door at the far end. She was completely invested in the cans as he then took the chance to slip down the hallway behind her—never looking away from her hunched over back until he rounded the corner and got fully out of sight.

Reaching another maintenance door, he only paused in his escape to read a poster off the wall.

—————————————————————————————— BE CAREFUL 100% OF FATAL ACCIDENTS INVOLVE HUMAN BEINGS ——————————————————————————————

“That's a good sign. Very true.” He deadpanned to himself, letting out a sigh of relief as he headed through the door to his left and found himself in a deserted storage room. Still being careful but glad for the lack of immediately present danger, he was quick to head for the door at the other end, carefully peeking out into more empty hallways. “Whew.”

High-fiving another animated screen, Charlie’s steps only slowed after seeing the cheery paint give way to more serious looking metallic tunnels. He took one look up and down the metal path from where he was standing in an empty doorway before stepping out, eager to get through this as fast as possible so the sinking feeling in his gut would pass when—

“There you are!”

He heard the chain link fence behind him rip and fall before he could even turn around, turning to see Monty looming over the tattered remains of the fence and focusing in on where Charlie was standing slack-jawed in the middle of the hallway. Instantly screaming and turning to run, Charlie felt the ground underneath his feet shake as Monty’s heavy steps followed him down the hall. “OH FUCK!!”

He barely had time to look at his surroundings as he ran, finally noticing a painted arrow with ‘LOBBY’ written in it in big letters, rounding the corner faster than he thought he was capable of only to hear another familiar voice behind him.

“Are you lost?”

“Oh, shit! No, I'm— I'm not lost! I was just leaving!” He called back, turning just enough to see Roxy climbing over another fence. “Please leave me alone!!”

Now with two thundering sets of footsteps behind him he tried to run faster, practically jumping between tiles on the floor before he crashed through another set of doors at the end of the hall. The room looked enough like the rest of the building that he felt sure he was on the right path, ready to slow down a little until—

“Lost boy over here!” Chica came stumbling out through a pile of boxes to his right as the doors he just passed through slammed open again, panic squeezing on his heart so hard all he could manage to get out was a loud, cackling laugh before taking off again.

“I am neither lost nor a boy!” He yelled as he turned to run away from all three animatronics, reaching several flights of stairs that clearly led back up to the main floor of the Pizzaplex. “Just let me leave!”

Taking the stairs three or four at a time, he felt the animatronics slow down a little in pursuit as the steps were human sized and clunky for them to climb but was unwilling to slow down completely until he reached the top landing and spotted the heavy metal of a security door down an adjacent hallway.

Sprinting into the security office was quick, Charlie slamming a hand into the button to shut the door and slumping forward into the wall, spotting Monty through the reinforced windows as he began banging on the now closed door.

“Okay, great. Security Office. Safe point. This is awesome.” Charlie let himself have a moment against the wall, trying to catch his breath before taking in his surroundings. The office itself was rather small, with only a small room to accompany the one person desk stacked with several monitors, a keyboard, and various scattered papers. The door on the other side was already closed as well, and he felt the panic in his chest lighten for only a moment before realizing the green battery shaped icon on the wall was slowly depleting. “Oh! I’m using up limited power! And quickly at that! Haha, this is awesome!”

Quickly regaining his footing to explore the contents of the desk, Charlie quickly discovered that he could cycle through some cameras in the hallways outside of the security office—noticing Monty still banging on the door to his left and Chica seemingly roaming the hallways to his right that likely lead out to the front entrance.

“Okay, plan time.” Charlie mumbled to himself, parsing through the cameras while thinking hard. “The plan is there is no plan, I just need her to be gone and I’ll run as fast as I can. Perfect not plan.”

Seeing Chica round the corner to put an entire wall between her and the security door he let slide open, Charlie ducked out of the security office and ran as fast as he could around the square of hallways to reach the double doors that would lead out. Painted arrows led his way around the hallways until he finally found the mentioned sets of doors that he escaped through—narrowly missing Chica round the corner behind him.

“Arlight! There’s the exit! That makes this a huge success.” He breathed out in relief, jogging towards the row of glass doors that would lead out of the building just as an announcement came over the loudspeakers.

“Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex is now closed. Initiating nighttime protocols.”

“What? Nighttime—?” Charlie cut himself off in a confused panic, running faster as a large garage door slid down to start covering the doors and bar him from leaving. “No, no no no, what are you talking about—! No don’t—!” He reached the front doors just as the cover hit the floor, unable to find a way to lift it. He slowly stepped back, glancing frantically around before slumping his shoulders in defeat. “Well fuck…”

I’m stuck in here til 6 AM.

#five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddy's au #five night's at freddy's #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #cross posted on ao3 #whump #angst #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle fanfic

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dreamcatcherwriting · 8 months

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More Genloss fic excerpts! We're at 50+ pages now folks!

Hm. Our characters seem to be trapped in a Maze. Now how could this have happened? :)

#generation loss #genloss #generation loss fanfic #ranboo #ranboo fanfic #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle fanfic #gl!ranboo #gl!charlie #sneeg #sneegsnag #gl!sneeg #this is gonna hurt :)#why am I using “this is gonna hurt :)” as the distinguishing tag for this fic?

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xgermankittycatx--commsopen · 9 days

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zombie apocalypse character designs are done, finally :] pretty happy with em too!! :DD edit: charlie is not a child!! He's an adult in my au(s), just small! I tried to make him look like the bubbly, happy-go-lucky character by making him smaller than the rest

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dylandotwhat · 2 months

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Fuck it, I update tomorrow anyways, here's the link to my fic: I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep ('Cause everything is never as it seems) !!

Here's also a drawing I did for it, think of it as a sort of title screen:

#fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #tommyinnit #ranboo #video games #the backrooms #mcyt #shit I just exposed myself #fuck it #we ball #tommyinnit fanart #charlie slimesicle fanart #ranboo fanart #my art

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shroommush · 2 months

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Welcome player❗️

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

When Charlie Cycle is sucked into an arcade machine, he begins to realise that he might not enjoy video games as much as he thought.

Especially as Slimecicle, the main character of the arcade machine, tries his absolute hardest to murder him.

Running and hiding, trying to survive, they accidentally stumble into the wrong room and end up freeing the goopy villian from his self isolation that's lasted the past twenty years. With no way back to Slimecicles game, they're forced to survive the rest of the arcade that hates Slimecicles guts.

As time goes on, and Charlie keeps trying to get home, he begins to realise there might be more to Slimecicles story.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I already posted this on tiktok a while ago, but I thought I'd share it on Tumblr as well :)

This is my slimecicle fic "leveling up", and so far I've got a pilot chapter up on wattpad if you wanna read it! This animation took me three months, it is my magnum opus, I hope you like it :]

#charlie slimecicle #charlie slimesicle fanart #slimecicle #dsmp #dsmp au #dsmp fanart #dsmp fanfic #mcyt #mcyt fanart #mcyt fanfiction #Leveling Up Wattpad

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tiny-crecher · 11 months

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The genloss surgery scene from Charlie’s perspective, inspired by this post I made.

HEAVY HEAVY HEAVY gore warning like. seriously.

you can also read it on ao3

It was the smell of antiseptic that hit him first.

Charlie’s mind was fuzzy. His body felt heavy. And cold. Very cold. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes yet, but he could tell he was lying flat on… something. It wasn’t very comfortable.

The second thing Charlie was aware of were voices. Two of them, one directly to his left, one a little father and more artificial-sounding. A recording, perhaps?

He shifted his head, letting a sliver of light seep through his eyelids. It was dim and greenish and awful. He could vaguely see movement from the left.

A surgical glove snapped. Charlie’s eyes shot open.

He found himself in what appeared to be a hospital room, a dingy fluorescent light casting a yellow-green hue over everything. He was in an old hospital gown, with a pale blue sheet covering the majority of his body.

It was then that he realized he was laid out on an operating table.

Charlie looked up at his surgeon.

He’d seen that damned mask before.

The surgeon themself seemed rather young. Maybe a teen still? They were at least younger than Charlie.

“I don’t want to do this… oh god.”

It was when they started pulling the sheet back to expose Charlie’s bare stomach that he started to fully grasp the situation.

The kid turned to their left and started rummaging through a box of surgical tools.

Oh fuck.

“I’m so sorry. I need to- I need to live. You don’t understand I need to live.”

Charlie knew the game. He knew that no one won. He knew that he’d been though it before. He knew he hadn’t been the first. Clearly he hadn’t been the last, either. But this kid… maybe they could be. Maybe they could be the one to stop this cycle.

So Charlie came to a conclusion. He had to endure whatever torment that awaited him in order to give this teen a fighting chance.

A pair of rusted scissors glinted in the light.

Charlie braced.

The teen plunged the scissors into his abdomen, and Charlie screamed. The pain was immediate, a searing fire starting from his center and rippling outwards in waves upon waves of torment. Every part of him screeched in protest and agony as the scissors dug even deeper, tearing upwards through flesh and muscle and sinew. His vision blurred, the room beginning to swirl into a nightmarish, distorted haze. He was vaguely aware of the sweat that was clinging to him, starting to mix with the tears that were streaming down his face.

This needs to happen.

And it kept fucking going.

Fingers dug into his skin and began to pull, shoving aside skin and fat until Charlie had a wonderful view of his entire digestive tract. The teen’s hands dove even deeper, starting to wrap around his intestines and slowly stringing them out.

This needs to happen.

Charlie convulsed, crying out with each twist and tug. He could feel blood beginning to drip down his hands from where his fingernails were digging into his palms. His body was but a stage for this twisted performance.

This needs to happen.

His breaths were ragged, each one hurting more than the last as his heaving chest jostled his torn open stomach. Bolts of anguish radiated out from his core as the teen continued to just dig, shooting tendrils of pain through his veins and into every nerve in his body. The world was hazy and fragmented, blurring and unblurring at a rapidfire pace. The smell of antiseptic had been washed away with the scent of his own blood, metallic and nauseating.

This needs to happen. This needs to happen. This needs to happen.

Charlie shrieked and spasmed as something was ripped from him. His screams echoed against the tiled walls of the room, a desperate plea for release that only fell on deaf ears. Time itself was beginning to warp, stretching into a torturous eternity. Every fiber of his being cried out for mercy. But he knew that none would come.

“What is- what is this?”

Charlie managed to focus his eyes for a brief second on what the teen was holding. It took him a bit to actually understand what he was seeing, with his mind so fogged with pain and the object completely drenched in his own blood, but after a moment he realized:

It was a game piece, from Mousetrap. It was the missing piece of a puzzle.

Charlie would’ve sighed with relief if he could actually breathe. They got the piece. He had no idea how the fuck it got inside of him, and frankly he didn’t really want to, but they got it. They had a chance. That made it all worth it.

The kid had what they needed. But of course, they didn’t know that. So onwards they went, continuing their merciless work of ravaging through Charlie’s torso, gutting him for all the world the see. Time lost its meaning. His body was nothing but a vessel for agony. But he had to hold onto that hope. He had to hope this kid, whoever they were, would be the one to break the cycle. He just had to.

He just fucking had to.

#i’ll put this on ao3 tomorrow #uhm #yeah #it’s almost 3am #anyways like and reblog <3 #tw gore #genloss #generation loss #gl!ranboo #gl!slimecicle #gl!charlie #slimecicle #ranboo #ranboolive #genloss fanfic #genloss fanfiction #fanfiction #writing

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solaneceae · 5 months

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imprint

a team bolas oneshot. q!baghera centric (read on ao3) hurt/comfort, found family

Day Five is technically one of the good ones, because their minds are not drowning in bloodlust and fog-mist, Foolish is making great progress on the castle off in the desert, and the other teams have been leaving them alone for the most part.

Doesn’t mean it’s a good day for Baghera, though. “My body’s so far away,” she whines, rummaging through the chests in search of iron armor and food. “You need help getting back to it?” Phil asks. The duck shakes her head, because she refuses to make him waste twenty minutes just chaperoning her as she stumbles around the map looking for her corpse. “I’ll be fine,” she sighs, picking up a diamond sword and fastening her mask onto her face. It requires some adjustments, with her having a beak and all, but she makes it work. “I’ll be okay.”

(Ten minutes later, her eyes open to dark cave ceilings and glittering gemstones, body tingling from respawn. She wants to scream.)

Phil is back with more resources, and Baghera feels strange. Not bad, just… strange.

It’s a feeling that’s been lingering even since they all fell into Purgatory, growing stronger or weaker in no discernable pattern, always somewhere at the back of her skull. Like a voice almost, not also not that, because there are no words being whispered, only vague drives. And right now, as their fearless leader busies himself at the crafting table, she gets the uncontrollable urge to get his attention. Hello, she chirps, walking up to him. He hums, but doesn’t acknowledge her further, too focused on his task. Her hindbrain gives unhappy. Hi, hi, she tries again, getting into his personal space and jumping around him and what is she doing? “Phil, Phil,” she quacks, look at me, pay attention to me! She forgot what she needed, what did she need? Hi, flock, dad, dad!

“You’re— Jesus Christ,” Philza bursts into laughter, evading her smaller form as he moves to a nearby chest. “You’re getting in the way, Baghera.”

“Do you have a boat?” she asks, and right, that’s what she needed. He cocks his head, an amused smile on his face. “Do I have a boat.”

“Yee.”

“I don’t— I mean, sure, I can make you one.” She makes a happy sound, bounces off her heels as he gets to work. Flock, dad. Hello. “I’m not, you know I’m not gatekeeping crafting shit,” he laughs as he hands her the boat and she magicks it into her inventory. “You could make your own.” And yes, that’s true, she could. But she likes it when Philza hands her things, like earlier when he dropped food onto her when she was stuck in that hole. It makes her brain happy, somehow.

It only hits her later, when Phil has gone off somewhere, that she had started to truly associate him with that hindbrain-thrum of dad, not as a bit, but something way too real for her taste. She resists the urge to crawl into a hole and shrivel away, and decides to make one last attempt to recover her old body.

(It fails, as things tend to do today. But at least she got distracted.)

***

The silence is deafening. She can hear the occasional grumble in Portuguese coming from her earpiece as Cellbit works on the maze inside the castle, and she wishes she was there making traps instead of getting dirt all over her wings. “I want to kill some people,” she huffs as she digs through rich soil to plant yet another tea sapling. At least farming she could do without messing things up. “I wanna just— run at them and scream.” Can she have that? Can she have this one thing, can she have a little bit of fun today before her timer runs out?

Cellbit hums into her earpiece. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, and she can feel another part of her wilt at his final tone. “Death counts too much today, you know?” (You will die, his words twist in her tired mind. You’re weak. You can’t be left alone. You’ll drag us down.) “And Phil did so much for us this morning, I don’t wanna disappoint him.”

Well I already did! she wants to scream. I’m just a dead weight, and I waste everyone’s time and don’t accomplish anything on my own! “...Okay,” she replies instead, whisper-soft, and just keeps planting.

(She misses the rest of the family-flock. She misses Jaiden, and Charlie, and Carré, all asleep inside the nest with no sign of waking up anytime soon. She wishes she could join them, put an end to this cursed day already — but she clings onto her fear of letting Cellbit down even more than she already did, and presses on.)

Cellbit renames Iris after a commercial mascot, and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. And she knows she shouldn’t be mad, because he doesn’t know she’s just spent twenty minutes having a breakdown over them and imprinting like crazy, but she just feels so dismissed by that. So she buries herself somewhere in the desert and screeches out her frustration where he can’t hear her, comms off.

***

“Baghera?”

Her ear feathers twitch. She looks up from the little cozy spots she had made for Iris (they’re gone now. Probably with Cellbit, helping him withe the maze. the maze she wanted to help with. She wishes Charlie had woken up earlier, so they could commiserate over their shared feelings of inadequacy.) “Phil…?” she sniffles, quickly rubbing at her cheeks to erase the evidence of her breakdown. Didn’t the crow run out of time earlier today? She hears a ch-ch-chrrrrp, and she mimics it without thinking, hindbrain buzzing with something soothing. Philza Minecraft appears from behind a corner, and his eyes are soft or maybe he’s just tired. “Come here,” he beckons, and she finds himself getting to her feet and stepping up to him. “Something wrong?” she cocks her head at him, and he chuckles lightly. “Nah, mate. Just come over here.”

He leads her out of the alcove and into their… sleeping quarters, which was just another part of the cave with their nest in the middle. “Kay, sit down,” the crow says, patting the side of the nest, and part of her panic with the childish fear of oh shit, am I in trouble? “You’ve got sand in your feathers. Lemme help you get that out before you bring it with you in the family pile, yes?”

Oh. She glances at her comm, realises she only has about twenty minutes before it knocks her out for the day. She clacks her beak in frustration — she had accomplished a whole out of nothing today. Fais chier. “...Okay,” she sighs, because at least a little preening sesh would be a decent way to end this shitty day.

“I noticed you were having a rough time,” the crow hums, carding his claws through the down on her arms to dislodge a few pebbles. “Thought you could use some TLC.”

She blinks owlishly (duckishly?). “I don’t know what that means.”

“Ah, like, just taking care of you a little. You felt sad and frustrated all day.”

She deflates, ear feathers drooping. “Didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“It’s not. I just notice this shit better than most,” Phil hums, dislodging more sand that drop outside the nest and digging his claws further in. Baghera closes her eyes — it feels nice. Her wings had been so itchy all day. “Especially when it comes to other avians.”

Right. Philza had retained more memories of his time outside the island than most of them, that made sense. “I’m sorry for calling you dad,” she blurts out, before she loses the nerve to. “I know everyone… I know everyone did it, for the joke, but I think I forgot it was a joke.” (“Dad, are you proud of me? I killed a silverfish!”)

She remembers Charlie belting out a ‘papa!’ when Phil came back with apples and berries two days ago. She remembers Jaiden calling him dad when he bandaged her left wing after a bad fall, Cellbit’s whiny ‘daaad, when are you gonna come pick me up?’, Carré jokingly moaning out a ‘gracias papi!'. Foolish is the only one that didn’t follow the pattern at this point, probably because he, too, is an immortal being… and the only one free of daddy issues and trauma, apparently. “I don’t mean to,” she breathes out. “My brain’s been all weird since we came here, and I don’t… I don’t mean when we get all starved and murder-y.”

Phil hums, plucks out a loose feather. “Yeah, same. Something about this place is fucking with our code I think. Mob code, specifically. That’s why they’re buffed to hell, It’s not your fault.”

“But it’s,” she groans, struggling to find the right words, both because of the language barrier and her own messy feelings. “You already have kids. I’m an adult. I can’t force that role on you, but my stupid bird brain keeps screaming at me. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s natural, Baghera. I don’t mind. And… forgive me for pointing it out, but if what you said yesterday was true, then you’ve never had an older avian to imprint on as a child. So it’s no wonder your instincts are going crazy now.”

She freezes. “...Oh,” a quiet realization, shame, regret. “You, um. You understood that.” You took it seriously. You remembered. Somehow, that makes her feel… a bit better. Seen. Despite the fact that she just blurted out her deepest darkest secret as a bit, and lo and behold, consequences. Phil shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think anyone else did,” he hums, smoothing out her left wing with a satisfied croon. “Gimme the other one? Good, nice.”

“You’re not mad?” she asks, so quiet and hesitant Philza stops and looks up at her. “That I’m a clone. That I’m… Federation property.”

“Don’t say that shit,” he bares his teeth, puts his hands on her shoulders to squeeze them tightly. “They don’t owe you. It doesn’t matter if they made you or whatever, you’re not them. If anything, you’ve got even more of a reason to hate them as the rest of us.”

“I don’t know…. I don’t know what they did, to me. I don’t even think I’m a real avian.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not like you. Or like Jaiden.” she gestures to her left wing. “I have a bill, you have… human face. Mostly human.” She makes a strangled sound. “Your wings are on your back, mine are just my arms, they’re just this. And even if— even if they weren't clipped, I couldn’t fly with those, only glide, maybe. I know that. They made me wrong.” Her eyes well up with angry tears. “They all… my siblings, they’re all dead, Phil. They all died, and I’m the only one left, and I’m not even good. I’m defective. Maybe that’s why I mess up everything. Maybe that’s why I’m such a burden for you guys.”

“Dude, stop.”

Philza closes his mouth before he can protest, both pairs of eyes turning to a sluggish Charlie, sans glasses, pushing himself up from his blankety prison without rousing Jaiden or Carré. “That’s… that’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard you say. And we debated about human milk cheese and the ethics of eating your own eggs, so that’s saying something,” he mutters, more serious than the duck has ever seen him. The effect is a little diminishes by his squinty, smaller-than-usual eyes (she was so used to seeing him with her glasses permanently stuck to his face) and the yawn that drowns out the end of his tirade, but it still makes Baghera’s breath hitch and her throat close up with emotions. “Charlie…”

“Okay look— I barely feel real right now, yeah? I just woke up, and I haven’t got a modicum of context here, but I’m not letting you talk shit about yourself.” The slime hybrid hauls himself up with a wince, the corruption on his arms and face buzzing and writing angrily for a second. “G-ah. T-Thisssss is gon-gonna b-be a bad, ba-aad day, hu-uuh.”

“Slime— wow, mate, maybe you should lay back down and wait it out.”

“S-Sorry d-aaaad, I’m going th-through mmmmy rebell-bellious phase.” Charlie staggers up to them and sits across Baghera movements stilted and visibly uncomfortable. The duck hybrid opens her bill to tell him off — no no stop it, you’re hurting yourself — but he wraps both arms around her and rests his forehead against her shoulder, the tingle-freeze of his codified parts stunning her into silence. It doesn’t hurt, and she’s not about to refuse a hug from a constantly touch-starved Slime, but it does sting a little. Like static shock, but not quite. “You’re so fucking great dude,” the man says, corruption leaving his voice as the glitches diminish in intensity. “I never told— never told you this, but the first day we met. The wedding? That was the first time in a while that someone was willing to go along with my bullshit.” He squeezes her a bit tighter. His face feels a bit wet agaisnt the feathers of her shoulder, and Baghera lets out a string of hurt? hurt? no, flock, clean. “It felt good. And— hey, not only that, but you were also the only one where who didn’t have pity, or scorn, or, or distrust written all over your face. But maybe I just didn’t know how to read duck body language at the time, haha.”

“I wasn’t pitying you,” Baghera murmurs, trembling arm coming to rest against her friend’s back. Words feel like jagged rocks going up her tight throat. “I didn’t know anything about you. I just found you funny, and you listened to me when we talked about the elections. You kept making sure I was being heard, and… and you were nice to Pomme on her birthday, too. That was enough for me. You know?”

Slime chuckles wetly. “Yeah. She’s a great kid. We’ll fucking get her back, okay?”

“I hope so…”

“Hey. Listen.” He draws away to cup Baghera’s face, squishing it slightly between his hands. Her feathers puff up as a result, it’s funny. “Listen well, Baghera Jones. My—” a sharp intake of breath. “M-My Flippa’s fine, yeah? She’s just waiting for me back at the island, she’s not in danger. But your kid is. And if… haha, if I can be sappy for a sec. With Jaiden, you’ve been the closest thing to a real friend I’ve had for a long time. So I’ll help you get Pomme back, alright?”

The duck’s green eyes well up with tears, some of which start painting dark streaks down her face. “Of… of course I’m your friend,” she sniffles, and she keeps making low chirp-trills Charlie doesn’t understand. “And you’re mine too. I care about you, Charlie.”

“I know. I… I know. And I won’t have you saying bad things about yourself either. You’re litterally so fucking cool, and you put up with my bullshit like nobody else, and I feel safe blurting out the most unhinged crap on God’s cubic Earth because I know you’ll just double down and make me question my sanity, in the best possible way.” He giggles, an unsteady, wild little thing slightly cut up by a stray glitch. “Or whatever’s left of it.”

Baghera’s comm beeps, startling the three of them. Philza approaches (had he moved away to give them space? Aw.), scoffs, glares at the bright red numbers on her wrist. “Fuckin— stupid-ass time limit,” he curses. “We don’t have much time, but we can end your day on a good note, okay?”

The duck hybrid glances at Philza, then at Charlie, pupils so wide the green can barely be made out. She takes a deep breath, thinks of the team. Of her children, waiting for her somewhere. Of everyone else that they lowkey hated right now. And she nods.

***

“Do it Baghera, do it!”

“That’s right, fuck ‘em up!”

“I’m doing it!” the duck woops, pouring the final bucket over the structure and watching it roll across the soil and crops who quickly start to catch on fire. “It’s working, it’s working!”

“Baby’s first lavacast,” Phil coos fondly from his roosting spot, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.”

He and Charlie watch as Baghera cackles madly, her eyes alight with the fires of war, staring down at her handiwork. “They are so gonna know it was us,” Slime hums, a huge smile on his face as he marvels over Blue’s farm being covered in ash and cobblestone. Phil shrugs. “Yeah, there’s no way. Worth it though.”

“So worth it,” the slime hybrid nods approvingly — Baghera was finally having fun, and seeing her smiling was definitely a highlight of today. “Oh we’re gonna get fucked in the ass tomorrow. No lube, all diamond sword just like God intended.”

Philza bursts into mad, crow-like cackles at that, hitting the slime hybrid’s shoulder to push him off the perch. Charlie falls with an indignant, high-pitched scream that makes Baghera laugh even harder. “How much time left?” the Crowfather calls out at her, and she turns to him with a mad ducky grin. “Eleven seconds!” she quacks back, and Philza’s eyes widen. “What?!”

“Yepp! Gonna pass out now see you tomorrow catch me or let me die I don’t care I have nothing on me!” she sing-songs rabbit-quick, pulling a little jig on top of her dirt tower before her body seizes with a gasp, her comm shocking the literal daylights out of her. Slime lets out a loud oh shit and takes off in a mad sprint as Philza jumps down as well, managing to cushion the duck’s fall with his own goopy, goopy body. “Ow,” he whines, voice muffled by the loose dirt he’s faceplanted into. “My sometimes-existing bones.”

“You good mate?” Philza reached them both, kneeling to check on Baghera — not a single heart of damage on her, her face neutral and peaceful in electronically-induced sleep. “Good catch.”

“Thanks.” Charlie lets his friend roll off his body with a grunt, pulling himself back together quickly before, hauling his friend on his back. “Mission accomplished, Crowfather Phil! Now let’s skedaddle the fuck outta here before Tubbo or BitchBoyHalo shows up.”

“Yeah, time to dip. Back to base, Bolas!”

“WOOOOOOH YEAAAAH! LET’S FUCKING ROLL!”

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #team bolas #baghera jones #q!baghera #philza #q!philza #slimecicle #q!slimecicle #fanfic #listen listen #it was hard watching baghera's pov that day #literally nothing went right #so this is catharsis in a way #also her and charlie's friendship is so important to me #both in and outside the server #i have never seen charlie so legitimately gobsmacked by another person before her #she's another level of chaos and one i aspire to reach lmao

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nikaizkool · 6 months

Note

tbh I want to fuck charlie really bad!

HE WHIMPERS FOR SURE.

You b like riding him and he’d just b holding your hips and moaning so loud 😍😍

#charlie slimecicle fluff #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle headcanons #chuckle sammy #charlie slimecicle imagines #charlie slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle fanfiction #charlie.txt #chuckle sandwich #charlie slimecicle smut #charlie slimecicle x you #charlie slimecicle fanfic #charlie slimecicle angst #Charlie slimecicle x

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espresso-lessdepresso · 2 years

Text

i1.1

fluff

pt.1/2, pt.2/2 here

Knock knock knock.

The room was cool and your bed was pleasantly warm. It was the perfect combination for a weekend to sleep in after a hectic trip with your friends. Due to the odd number of group members, you gladly took the last room with one bed.

Knock knock knock.

The blanket covered half of your body and it felt so soft against your skin, like silky clouds. The rays of the sun seeped into your hotel room through sheer white curtains, though they did not cast their rays on you and wake you up. You thanked your past self for pulling the curtains only halfway, leaving the bed-side of your room dimly lit with the reflection of the morning sky.

Knock knock knock Knock knock knock–

Angrily, you ripped the covers off of you and stomped over to the entrance. Opening the door, you were met with someone far too awake for your liking.

“Good morning!” The man beamed at you, “Were you in the bathroom? You took a while.”

Deadpan, you replied, “I was hoping that if I waited just a bit longer, the knocking would have stopped.”

Charlie gazed at you, a corner of his lip still tugged to one side. Your devilish hair and still half-asleep self was a sight to see. Not to mention how your hand had a corner of the blanket balled in a fist and dragged to the door.

“Charlie,” You sighed “we made plans for 10. Its...” Leaning back, you read the time “6 a.m. The sun isn’t even awake yet.’

He shrugged and twisted, “I knoooowww. I just thought that...if we meet early then that would mean we get to spend more time together... before we have to catch out flights and eventually go in opposite directions.”

You and his stupid pout, you thought. As much as you wanted to shut the door in this face, it would be a crime to do so against your sweetest Charlie.

You open the door, “Fine.” and grab his hand.

As you drag him into your hotel room towards the bed, Charlie smugly asked, “It’s a bit early for that, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut. I am still very tempted to kick you out.”

Once the both of you are in bed, you lay under the covers and Charlie sits with his back rested against the headboard. You easily slip into slumber, all while interlocking your fingers with Charlie’s. Now, Charlie knows that he is an early bird unlike most of his friends and that he greatly contrasts the night owl that you are. And because of this contrast, his fondness for you only deepens when you spend your sleeping hours with him, despite sleep being the most precious thing to you. Well, second-most.

.✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .

After two heavenly hours of sleep, your eyes blink open to your room considerably brighter than before. The curtains were pulled all the way back but the rash rays of sunlight did not blind you as Charlie was still seated in the same position, now blocking you from the sun.

The sun drew an... elegant silhouette of Charlie. His features were softly outlined from the furrowing of his brows to the bridge of his nose and down the rest of his figure. He held a book to his face and seemed to have read a great deal of it while you were sleeping. The entire day could have been spent studying him, but your peeking came to a stop as his eyes flickered towards you.

Charlie tilted and that familiar smile tugged his lips. Your palms were still holding each other, though looser than before. “Waking up?”

“Do I have any other option?”

“Not really, no. Good morning.” His lips touched your forehead and you felt his smile press against you as you wished him the same. “I ordered breakfast.”

“When?”

“While you were drooling on my hand and snoring loud enough to challenge a motorbike.”

“...I’m going back to--”

“NOO!”

Pt. 2 coming soon.

++++++

We like sunshine man yes?

Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

master list

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audioaujom · 10 months

Text

27: Victim's Memoirs [wrong end 4 ★5]

Corpse Party Hub, < prev, next >

This is wrong end 4 ★5 from Chapter 2! A lot of these bad endings are fucked up and awful but I honestly debated not writing this one because it’s nasty, but… when whump calls lmao

I've also written (or begun writing) nearly every other bad ending for this game and I guess this one felt left out idk

I know compared to a lot of the other graphic shit on this hellsite this is probably nothing, but I’d feel uncomfortable posting this without a bunch of warnings. I don’t really have a taste for such graphic things, but I’m actually kind of pleased with how it came out. I like the ick ig Be safe and enjoy responsibly.

Pairing: Ranboo and Charlie

Word Count: 3190

Chapter TWs: Mind Manipulation ("Darkening"), Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Vomiting, Character Death

“Whoa hey, do you see that?” Charlie asked as he stepped out of the classroom, Ranboo poking his head out the door to look over his friend’s shoulder at the floor.

“The notebook paper with blood on it?” Ranboo asked, Charlie turning around to face him with a sinister grin. “Yeah, I see it. Why?”

“C’mon, aren’t you curious?” Charlie all but whined, his eyes darting back and forth between the page and Ranboo’s disapproving glare from the doorway.

“Uhm, not really. What’s it gonna say? ‘Here’s how to get out of this horrible haunted elementary school in three easy steps’?”

“It could!” Ignoring the obvious deadpan, Charlie smiled hopefully up at Ranboo—who just sighed and shook his head.

“No, it really couldn’t.” Ranboo then paused, an unreadable look crossing his face before he continued, “But I’m not going to stop you if you do wanna look.”

“Aha! You are curious!” Charlie poked a finger into the taller boy’s chest, his smile splitting into a wide grin. “It’s just as I suspected!” Triumphant, he turned and swiped the paper up off the ground, eyes scanning the page from behind his glasses before his grip on the page tightened and his face paled. “Oh. Oh god nevermind.”

“What? What’s it say?” Ranboo asked, his own curiosity morbidly piqued by Charlie’s horror, taking the scrap paper from his friend who passed it over wordlessly.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I ate my friend today. What else was I supposed to do? I was starving. We both were. And there's no food here. So we decided, together, that one of us should try to live just a little bit longer. If I ever get home, I'm supposed to tell all the people waiting for us what happened. We left it all up to a game of rock-paper-scissors. Loser eats winner. And I lost. I felt her blood going down my throat, quenching my thirst. And her meat was surprisingly satisfying. But that blood and that meat was once my friend. Up until just a few hours before, I'd been talking with her. As I feasted, I just kept thinking, this food used to be a person. Before I tore it apart, it all worked together to sustain a life. And every time I thought about that, I just started crying… and I couldn't stop. I wanted some part of her to be with me even after she died, so I decided to keep one of her eyeballs. And I thought maybe I should write all of this down, to help preserve some small portion of my sanity. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Oh.” Ranboo gagged in disgust and horror, dropping the page to put one hand over his mouth as the other went to clutch at his stomach. “Well, alright. That’s… wow, okay. Um…”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Charlie tried to joke, but it fell flat as his voice shook nervously. He then put a gentle hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, quietly suggesting, “Let’s just… leave that there.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” Ranboo nodded, staring down at the paper on the floor, his look turning to a slight glare. “Just when I think things can’t get any worse…”

“C’mon, let's keep looking somewhere else.” Charlie offered, lightly pulling Ranboo by the arm away from the classroom and towards the stairs.

The two silently made their way back down to the first floor, wanting to search in a more orderly fashion by working their way up from the bottom. By the time they’d made it downstairs the odd tension in the air had already dissipated, them hunting in a much more comfortable silence until—

“Uhm… Ranboo? Is that…?” Charlie asked tentatively, pointing at another rather innocuous piece of notebook paper lying behind a ruined table near the rows of shoe shelves at the front doors.

“Another bloody piece of notebook paper probably containing horror beyond my worst imagination?” Ranboo responded rhetorically, giving Charlie a look as he blandly stated, “I think so.”

“Would it be wrong of me to say I’m still curious?” Glancing at Ranboo beside him, Charlie quickly backpedaled, “Not in a weird sort of way, I just… if it’s from the same person I want to know what happened to them.”

Ranboo stared at him blankly. “Why are you asking for my permission?”

“It makes me feel better.”

“Wow, no hesitation there.” Ranboo shook his head at his friend’s immediate answer, sighing and gesturing forward at the page. “Sure. Go read it if you really want to.”

“Okay!” Charlie nodded, jogging forward and crouching down before looking up as he realized he wasn't being followed. “Are you not coming too?”

Ranboo stood still for a long moment before he finally gave in and stepped over with a quiet, “...coming.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I hold, in the palm of my hand... a piece of a person's body. A piece of a person who was living and breathing only a short while ago. This body part used to be attached to her head. And now, I'm walking around the school with it. I had no idea eyeballs were so heavy. And I just keep squishing it in the palm of my hand, as if I'm testing its firmness. Squeeze, and release... Squeeze, and release… — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Okay.” Charlie announced, dropping the page immediately after finishing it. “Somehow that’s worse than the vivid description of cannibalism.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Ranboo grinned as Charlie turned to look at him, betrayed.

“Hey! That’s my line!” He whined with his own smile, before it slowly faded alongside the playful air as realization started to dawn on his face. “But dude… this place is really fucked up. The bodies we keep coming across are all of kids, which means—”

“Don’t. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Ranboo cut him off, firmly waving both of his hands and shaking his head for emphasis. “I don’t… don’t. Nope. I am not going to think about the implications. You are not going to think about the implications. There are no implications. None.”

Charlie nodded, his widened eyes slowly closing as he let out a breath to calm himself down. “No problem.”

Working their way around the main floor and then to the row of first floor classrooms, the second page—while weird—was long forgotten as the two briefly bickered about how to open the nailed shut door at the back of 2-A until Ranboo remembered the nail puller they’d found earlier. The secret room was strange, with large gaps in the floor and a mechanism at the far corner, the two venturing all the way to the back corner to look over the mechanism to try and figure out what it did.

“...Charlie.” It was Ranboo who broke the silence this time, an arm flying out to the side to stop Charlie in his tracks about halfway into the room. The two boys paused, both noticing the page on the floor.

“Are these notes following us around or something?” Charlie questioned with a frown, pushing Ranboo’s arm away. “Cause we can’t seem to go more than a few feet without finding another one.”

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Yeah, that’s… fair.” Nodding to himself, Charlie paused before shuffling forward a few steps. “...I’ve gotta, right?”

“No, you really don’t.” Ranboo answered, Charlie ignoring him as he bent down to pick up the page with a shit-eating grin. “That sounds like a yes to me!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I've been searching every last corner of this school building, trying to find a way of escaping with her. But it's not happening. No matter how much we struggle, only further misery awaits us. I'm so unbearably thirsty… so hungry that it feels like my stomach is eating itself... And every moment, it gets worse. It's like a big, black mass in front of me that's slowly closing in. I can't keep ignoring it. I've started talking to the eyeball in my hand, to help stay focused and maintain my sanity. Stop looking at me like that! I swear, I'll find us a way out of here! I have to make sure I tell your family what you did for me… — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Hopeless. Lovely.” Ranboo commented from over one of Charlie’s shoulders, watching as his friend curiously started re-reading a section of the note.

“What’s that black mass thing they were talking about?” Charlie asked after he finished looking over the page, setting it back down with a huff. “That sounds a little more imposing than the hunger or thirst.”

“I’m not sure… but whatever it is we should avoid it if we can.” Ranboo sighed, staring down at the note on the floor, lost in thought.

“Oh. I assumed that went without saying.” Charlie agreed, before smirking and commenting, “Y’know, to avoid the big black ball.”

“Dude.”

“Not even a sliver of a smile?” Smirk dropping, Charlie sighed and shook his head. “Throw me a bone here man, I’m trying to cheer you up.”

“...thanks.” Ranboo smiled a little, recognizing Charlie’s effort but still too anxious to actually feel any sense of relief. “But the best way to cheer me up would be to stop reading these creepy notes and find a way out.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Ignoring Charlie’s mock salute, they continued investigating each floor systematically in an on and off silence until they reached the end of one of the hallways on the third floor, the two noticing another bloodied page near a particularly large gap in the floorboards.

“Okay, I know you said to stop reading them, but it’s right there.”

“I already said I wouldn’t stop you like ten times, Charlie.” Ranboo sighed, watching Charlie run up to the page and instantly scan its contents.

“Epic.” About halfway down the page, Charlie's expression dropped, setting the page down with a wince of nausea. “Oh. Nevermind. I think I’m just gonna… put this back…”“What did it say?” Ranboo asked curiously, wandering over and picking up the page as soon as it hit the floor.

“Oh, you don’t wanna—” Charlie reached out to stop him, but was a moment too late as Ranboo had already begun reading. “Wait!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I am writing these memoris wit hsticky hansd but its not me that is stiky but somethng else I hope you re not mad about this maybe you will think im a horribl e person but i got hungry again really hungry like i was about to DIE so i I did something I shouldn't have done. I promised myself I would stay sane, and promised myself I wouldn't do what I did, and I am so, so sorry, really, really sorry, really sorry but there is no excuse for what I did. With my bloody hands, I took the thing that I've been squishing, and I put it in my mouth, and I swallowed it. Iateit. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“...yeah.” Ranboo silently let go of the page as Charlie spoke, letting it slowly flutter through the air until it landed at his feet, Charlie grabbing him by the shoulders to maneuver him further down the hall. “Let’s go, Ran.”

“Yeah.” Ranboo nodded absentmindedly, fiddling with his hands before glancing over at Charlie and timidly asking, “We’ll figure this out, right? You and me?”

“You and me.” Charlie affirmed, squeezing his shoulders. “We got this.”

No matter how confident Charlie sounded Ranboo couldn’t shake his lingering anxiety, the longer they searched around the school with no clear goal only serving to make it continually spiral. By the time they’d backtracked to the second floor for a second time, it had gotten so bad he almost didn’t step off the landing and through the doorway to the floor, letting Charlie pull him along as he couldn’t seem to get himself to walk forward. The anxious ice in his veins that had shattered when Charlie urged him forward resurged rapidly after the briefest moment as both of them noticed the paper lying beside the large gap in the floor at the same time.

“...is that—?” Charlie asked, cutting himself off as the two stared at the page on the floor.

Ranboo nodded, dread coiling in his stomach as he couldn’t will himself to move any closer to it. “I think it is.”

“It’s fine.” Charlie said randomly, pulling Ranboo into a nearby classroom with a soft smile. “I’m not curious.”

“What? Really?” Ranboo asked, disbelieving, some of the dread giving way to relief as Charlie sounded genuine and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, really. We have other priorities right now.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” With a short nod from Ranboo, the two went back to investigating the small room. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

The classroom held nothing useful, Ranboo giving up after a few minutes and slamming shut the teacher’s desk drawer he’d pulled open in a vain hope of finding anything they could possibly use. He turned to comment about the empty nature of the classroom to Charlie, only to realize his friend was no longer beside him. Confused, he poked his head out of the doorway to see where he could’ve gone in the minute he was distracted with rifling through the desk.

“Charlie? Where’d you— NO!” The yell of surprise ripped out of Ranboo before he knew what he was saying, staring at where Charlie was crouched on the floor by the staircase with the previously seen note clutched in both of his hands. “Charlie, what are you doing?!”

“Sorry, Ran. I’m too curious.” Charlie apologized, flashing him a quick smile. “Besides, this is probably the last one, anyway. No harm, no foul.”

Reaching out, Ranboo threw himself forward to try and take the page from Charlie—who easily ducked out of the way. “No, don’t—!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — if you are reading this allow me to forewarn you there is no hope of rescue there is nothing to be gained endless wandering and endless torture is the nature of this place i succumbed to my hunger and thirst began nibbling on that corpse again there is no flavor, no sensation just meat and fluid to sate my empty belly i promised i would not desecrate your body any more but i broke that promise please forgive me — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Charlie had barely read the last few words on the page when his vision completely blacked out.

Everything felt wrong.

The last thing Charlie remembered was reading another one of the bloody notes—please forgive me—and then blacking out on the floor. His head hurt and his mouth tasted metallic, a hand coming up to messily wipe some blood leaking out of his mouth as he tried to sit up and figure out what was going on around him.

“Shit, my head—!” Charlie glanced around with half-opened eyes, shaking his head and looking around frantically for his friend only to realize he was alone in the hallway. “What… oh god, Ranboo? Ranboo?!”

Forcing his nauseous body to his knees, he felt his stomach roil and force a line of bile up his throat from the movement, trying hard to swallow it back only for the metallic taste in his mouth to grow stronger.

“What the fuck is—?” He asked, cutting himself off to spit out a thick wad of blood that was building up in his mouth, the contents landing in an oddly gloopy pile on the wood between his knees. He spat again, the blood a little thinner but still strange as he recoiled from it and toppled over backwards. “Shit, what the fuck…?”

Finally looking up and getting his vision to focus, Charlie wished he could fall back unconscious as he realized he wasn’t technically alone—but the only company he now had was his friend’s unmoving body.

An extreme amount of blood had soaked into the wood flooring beneath Ranboo’s still form, his throat torn open and windpipe crushed, his neck missing a large chunk of jagged flesh from the middle that had already stopped oozing. His mouth and eyes were wide open, the once lively gray now faded, glassy, and frozen in a kind of terror that made Charlie sick to his stomach all over again. The muscles on his upper arms had been torn clean off, white bone sticky with what was left of the crimson tendons and blood missing from his limp arms—one of his elbows bent all the way up the wrong way. His legs weren’t nearly as torn as his arms, but they were ripped by what looked like teeth marks from the knees all the way down to his shoes, pants shredded by the unnatural strength of whatever had attacked and left his mangled body in the middle of the hallway.

“What did… what?” Charlie scrambled back up to his hands and knees to crawl up to Ranboo’s body, afraid to touch him as he realized his hands were already slick with the same blood that formed dried drips on the front of his shirt—and was very likely Ranboo’s. “Oh god, no… no no no, this some twisted fucking joke, there’s no way I would’ve… oh fuck…” Metallic twinged bile threatened to rise up his throat again, Charlie only managing to turn his head at the last minute before the vomit could soil Ranboo’s already desecrated corpse. “Blood… everywhere and… no… no, please…”

Sitting innocently next to the body was a scrap of paper that managed to avoid the worst of the spilled bodily fluids, Charlie reaching for it with shaking hands as he recognized Ranboo’s scrawled handwriting.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — It’s okay, Charlie. I know this wasn’t you. Only the school and that black mist are to blame. If you ever come back to your senses and read this… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you. I hope you make it out. - Ran — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The rest of the note trailed off into a thick coating of blood, Charlie’s eyes going unfocused with hot tears that gathered in the corners and threatened to stream down his already messy face. “There’s no way I… I did this…?” Charlie asked aloud, his strangely half-full stomach feeling infinitely heavier as he frantically tried to spit or even throw up more of the flesh and blood coating the inside of his throat. “I… oh god…”

Another retch had vomit with chunks of barely digested muscle landing in front of Charlie, his eyes blurry with now freely flowing tears and an odd faded black tint around the edges that creeped in with a cool chill. One hand went up to claw at his throat as the other braced him against the floor, overwhelmed with a self-loathing so strong it was only rivaled by the innate disgust that stung in his mouth like his stomach acid, him clinging desperately onto the awful feelings as they started to slowly slip away from his conscious grasp into the dark void that gave him a sense of deja-vu to when he’d finished reading the last of the bloody notes.

Charlie was tired and anguished and suddenly overwhelmingly… hungry. He just couldn’t fight it anymore. The hunger ate away at his feelings greedily, him collapsing to the floor as the dark haze re-took over his vision—leaving him in an empty heap of despair lying on the bloodsoaked wood next to Ranboo’s unmoving body.

#corpse party au #corpse party #fanfiction #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #writing #whump #ranboolive #ranboo #ranboo fanfic #angst #charlie slimecicle fanfic #charlie slimecicle #generation loss

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