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alis-the-narwhal · 4 months ago

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Snow White Slimeriana AU Scrap

Or; Mariana’s stepmother is trying to kill him. Maybe this cute guy in the woods can help?

Tags as I’m thinking of them so i don’t forget:

Snow White Fusion, Mariana is Snow White, Charlie is the Huntsman, Murder Plots, Temporary Character death, like the story, Child Neglect/Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, kinda, on Mariana's end anyway, Non-Verbal Juanaflippa

Mariana never really knew his mother. She’d died when he was young, all skin and bones in a porcelain coffin. He remembers the funeral. He remembers the year around the castle when the clocks didn’t tick and the dreary fog of mourning that clogged his lungs. He remembers stumbling upon his father, slumped gracelessly in his study with a bottle of wine staining the mahogany desk.

After that, he remembers servants picking up his father’s slack. Dressing him, teaching him how to be the heir- stuff his father should’ve been there for.

He remembers the day he met his step-mother. He’d been sneaking around the hidden passages through the castle, heading towards the kitchen to steal some pastries when he heard her shrill voice echo through the hall outside.

She’d stormed into the kitchens in a fury, shouting insults at one of the cooks and threatening to execute them for something Mariana’s memory fizzles out about. He remembers the way her silver eyes pinned him to the cupboard, eyeing him up and down in not at all hidden disgust.

Mariana doesn’t even think she knew who he was at that point. Probably just a peasant thief looking to steal from the royal family. He certainly was dressed the part. She began shouting at him as well, waving him off like a stubborn dog.

And when his father properly introduced him to her, she’d played the role of a perfect step-mom, going so far as to sweeten her voice and flutter her eyelashes at his father. It was disgusting at that age.

Him and his step-mother never really got along after that. He’d made it his goal to make her as miserable as possible, whether it be snarky comments, pranks, or just flat out ignoring her orders.

Mariana thinks that the thing she hated him the most for, was his claim to the crown. She certainly hadn’t been quiet about what she thought about him, trying several attempts to ship him off to another kingdom in ‘holy matrimony’.

Thankfully, with him being the only possible heir- it was virtually impossible for his step-mother to get her way.

And then his little brother was born. The day was made into a celebration and the castle hosted a party for all in the kingdom to attend. Each person blessed his younger brother and his step-mother, all starry-eyed and compliant.

In hindsight, this is probably when it started. The day his step-mother learned just how much control she had with a simple child.

In the cloak of the night, a lone man stands beside a stall, shuffling various items into crates and loading them onto the back of his cart. Various weapons clink against each other and sway hazardously on hanging racks.

He settles the last crate onto his cart with a sigh, hand settling on his own sword settled at his hip. He hums to himself, thinking about his dinner plans when a steady click of heels on pavement fills the street.

His head turns to the noise instinctually. No one should be out in the market this late, the only reason he still remains is- well. Standing right in front of him.

“You’re the Huntsman?” The figure asks, draped in a cloak that warps in the breeze.

He nods, shutting the back of his cart to protect his cargo. “That’d be me.” He affirms, crossing his arms and leaning back against the cart.

The figure hums, shifting under her cloak.

“What can I do for you? I don’t usually get requests to meet this late at night.” He grins at the figure.

Across from him, she scoffs- a glint of expensive jewelry peeking from beneath her cloak and shimmering under the street lamps.

“I have a job for you.” She tells him, sounding vaguely miffed.

“Obviously.” He responds easily. He doesn’t usually do business with nobles- they tend to ask for impossible deals with little reward. Not to mention the blatant disgust they have when interacting with him. He prefers his usual customers. Really the only reason he’s here is because she’d paid him to meet her.

The figure twitches, but doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“What do you know about the prince?” She asks.

Immediately, he can tell that he will /not like what’s about to come out of this woman’s mouth.

“I’ve heard the usual things. Coronation coming up, balls he’s attended. I’ve heard he’s quite the sight.” He comments offhandedly. The figure in front of him sneers, which he’s impressed he’s picked up on considering the draping cloak she wears.

“Right.” She pauses for a moment. “I want him dead.”

There it is.

“The prince.” He repeats slowly, giving the woman a minute to think about what she’s asked. “You want me to kill him?”

“You’re a skilled huntsman. I’m sure you could figure something out,” She offers.

“Listen man, I hunt animals- not people. Certainly not people that could get me executed for even stepping foot in their presence.” He reminds. The figure takes a step forward.

“What is a person if only a slightly more intelligent animal? I could get you inside the castle. All you have to do is kill him.”

He stays quiet for a moment, baffled. Kill the prince? That’s asking for his head on a stick in the town square. He can’t just- He has a daughter to think about. She’d probably revive him and then kill him again just for not coming home.

“I’m gonna have to decline, unfortunately.” He shrugs, shifting up off the cart, ready to leave.

Something thumps onto the ground behind him. He turns to look.

Tossed onto the ground between them is quite a large leather rucksack. He bends to pick it up, something clinking inside.

Shimmering piles of gold and various gems peer at him from behind the loosened drawstring.

He gapes, appalled by the amount of money in his palms right now. He’s certain he’s never even come close to this much in his entire life. This kind of money could set his daughter up for life. She’d never have to worry about going hungry, cold, shelterless, or lost. She could do whatever she wanted with her life.

“I could get you more.” The figure informs him, sounding smug.

“Just kill the prince.”

In all honesty, Mariana didn’t really think much of being king. He would, because it was his duty, but- it didn’t feel right to him. He knew he could do it- he’d spent his whole life training for it. Everyday of his life has led up to the moment of his coronation. It feels more like a chore than an honor.

It felt more like a routine in his carefully structured life than a milestone.

So, here he is- peering around the corner to his step-mother’s room, holding a simple pair of shears and about to do one of the only things he really enjoys anymore.

Surely she doesn’t /really need that one dress of hers? The buttons are obnoxious and frankly the lace is hideous. Really, he’s doing the kingdom a favor by getting rid of it.

When he sees that the coast is clear, he shuffles down the hall with intent. He’ll have to be fast, who knows where that step-monster is.

As he gets closer to her door, he starts picturing the several ways that he can disfigure her closet. Maybe he can get that wretched poncho she bought on a whim.

He gets to the door, only to pause. He can hear her shuffling about inside and- through a peek in the door- sees her pacing the room draped in a cloak.

“It’s time. It’ll be done tonight.” She speaks, biting her nails. Mariana thinks she might have hit her breaking point. Maybe this isn’t the time? He’s about to move when another voice speaks up.

“Everything is ready, I assume?” The voice sounds somber, almost robotic. Like the playbacks Mariana sneaks from the library.

“Yes. By midnight he’ll be dead.”

Mariana freezes, grip loosening on the shears. Dead? Who-?

“And then the throne will be available for your son.” The voice replies. “Giving you the kingdom.”

His step-mother giggles, sounding manic and a little hysterical. “Finally. Ten years of that /bastard.”

Mariana takes a step away from the door, panic settling in his chest like a leash. Him? Dead? Tonight? He knew his relationship with his step-mother wasn’t the /best but he never thought it would resort to /murder.

“Say it. Tell me one more time.” The queen pleads. Across from her, a face shines in an opal mirror.

“Prince Mariana will be dead by midnight.”

He turns and flees.

The good thing about the hidden passages around the castle are that it’s easy to get around without notice. The passage to his bedroom bursts open, almost sending Mariana sprawling across the floor.

He catches himself on a piece of elegantly carved furniture, breath feeling thin in his lungs. He heaves, falling to his knees and clutching his chest.

Mariana’s had assassination scares before. Usually, the royal guard fixes the problem before he can even begin to fear for his life.

He barely knows how to wield a sword- days too jam packed with lessons on politics and leading a kingdom. If the queen and this magic mirror are plotting his death- what chance does he have?

Sunlight spills gold through the sheer curtains of his balcony. The gold accents of his bedroom shine and cast the room in a warm glow.

He doesn’t have time to be panicking like this. He has to figure something out.

He could go to his father? But his father is so wrapped up in the queen’s facade of deceit he’s likely to shun Mariana for another attempt of slandering his wife’s name.

He could tell the royal guard- but who knows who else the queen has wrapped up in this plot.

Mariana has to leave. He can’t stay in the castle while someone is on the hunt for his head.

With a heavy breath, he pulls himself up from the floor. He’s got to have some sort of commoner’s clothes around here somewhere. He’s certainly used them often enough to sneak into the city.

He finds them shoved in a box in the far back of his closet- right where he’d left them. The clothes fit roughly on his body- but they feel more comfortable than the silks and chiffons of his royal attire. He’s not a prince in these clothes- he’s just Mariana.

There’s a spare bag of coins in the box as well, probably from his last outing. He grabs that too, shoving it in the pocket of his trousers.

A knock on the door echoes in his room, and the shrill voice of the queen fills the immediate silence.

“Mariana, your father wishes to see you in the gardens.” She claims, sounding haughty and pleased. Nothing like the manic being she was in front of the mirror.

“I-I’ll be right down!” Mariana calls, moving back towards the hidden passage. His father hasn’t stepped foot in the garden since his mother died.

“Don’t take too long and keep him waiting.” The queen replies.

He takes a brief moment to mourn. This may be the last time he uses these tunnels. He doesn’t know if the queen will go so far as to put a hit out on his head. Mariana huffs, sliding into the stone passage and closing the door gently.

He grew up running around the castle through these tunnels. His mother told him about them, something she had used when she was young. He thinks they won’t be used after he leaves.

Mariana’s pace through the tunnels is brisk. He knows them like the back of his hand, but if the queen finds out he’s gone missing- she’ll call the guard and then he’ll be stuck.

There’s an exit to the south of the castle, opening out of the outer wall and leading into the foliage that separates the towering fortress from the arching woods. There’s a beaten down path a little into the forest that leads straight to the town to the west and towards the mines farther south.

If he’s remembering correctly, the mines aren’t directly controlled by the kingdom, instead it’s run by the local dwarves who sell weapons and gems for profit. If he can make it to the mines, the dwarves might be able to point him into the direction of another town.

Semi-confident in his plan, he marches into the foliage.

Somewhere inside the castle walls, the queen screams and a mirror cracks.

So apparently, lessons in how to run a kingdom are /not useful when you’re stuck in the middle of the woods at midnight.

Mariana learns this the hard way.

The first howl is disconcerting, but not enough for him to panic. He’s following the path- surely if he just keeps going everything will be alright.

Everything does not go alright.

The howls pick up in frequency and volume, until something darts across the path.

His heart stutters into his throat, choking him into place. He’s safe in the castle walls, protected by trained guards and fortified walls- but out here? He’s vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to.

He’ll either die to the wolves or the queen. And right now, the queen sounds preferable.

The shadows of the trees warp around Mariana, casting menacing figures onto the beaten path. His vision seems to swim- trees arching further into the inky sky and twirling above him.

To his left, a bush rustles and a low growl emits from the leaves. He turns, frantic, and ends up face to face with a wolf. Snarling, it pulls itself out of the brambles and towards Mariana. There’s a moment of almost peace before the wolf lunges.

Mariana bolts- straight off the path and into the clumping thorns. They poke and prod- but it’s better than being the wolf’s dinner. He hops over peeking roots, ducks under spreading branches, and dodges tree trunks. His heart pounds in time with his footsteps and he can hear the wolf behind him- gaining.

There’s no way he’ll make it. The wolf is faster and Mariana’s stamina is steadily draining.

He chances a glance behind him, trying to see how close the wolf is. It snaps its jaws- leaping the short distance and-

Mariana trips over a root with a yelp, tumbling down a decline in the terrain. His shoulder slams into the dirt and momentum rolls him down the hill, knocking into roots and stray sticks.

The hill stops as abruptly as he fell, body slamming into the trunk of a tree and ripping the air from his lungs.

His body aches, his shoulder especially. He must’ve landed on it wrong and rolling into a tree did not help.

For a moment, Mariana lays there to catch his breath. He doesn’t want to get up. His side is hurting in the way it does after a particularly intense run and the world is spinning above him.

Maybe if he just stays here the wolf will go away. Yeah, the wolf wouldn’t follow him down the hill right?

The returning growl does little to comfort him.

He props himself up on his elbow, free hand reaching over his stomach to hopefully ease the burning in his side.

In the light of the moon he can see the wolf. It seems to have also fallen down the hill with him- if the branches in its fur are anything to go off of. Maybe falling down a hill will make the wolf want a different prey?

The wolf’s gaze latches onto him and it growls again. Maybe not.

Mariana thinks that maybe the queen will get what she wished for in the first place. There’s no way he can possibly outrun the wolf now. Not with the growing ache in his body.

Still desperate to escape, he pushes back into the tree- bark scraping roughly through his thin shirt. His head thumps against the tree and he watches the wolf slowly close in.

And then- the glint of an arrow pierces into the wolf’s side. It yelps in pain, body twisting as it rears its head towards the direction the arrow came from. Mariana can hear the sound of another arrow being pulled back and then the /thwip of it being released.

The wolf goes down into the moss, making a strangled sort of noise Mariana thinks might haunt his dreams for a while.

With heaving breaths, he takes a glance into the tree line.

A figure steps into the moonlight- branches crunching underfoot.

It’s a man, with a simple pair of trousers and a quite faded tunic. There’s a sash around his waist and a glinting sword is holstered to his hip. His bow hangs uselessly towards the forest floor and the quiver on his back is full of arrows.

“You alright?” The man asks, voice sounding soft in the darkness.

Mariana takes a moment to breathe, leaning heavily into the tree. He nods, fingers clenching into the dirt.

The man heaves a breath before tilting his head up to the sky. “It’s not a good idea to be out this late, man.”

Mariana takes a moment before he responds, a little shook at how calm and collected the man is. Mariana was almost mauled to death, he thinks that deserves a bit more concern. “Thanks for the tip.” Mariana responds, pulling himself up off the ground. “Would’ve been nice to know an hour ago.”

The man snorts softly, shoulders lifting. “I aim to please.” He grins crookedly. Mariana huffs, stumbling away from the tree and closer to the man.

“Of course.” Mariana tells him, saccharine sweet.

The man hums before speaking. “Charlie, but you can call me Slime. It’s what my friends call me anyways.”

Mariana hesitates. Now is the time in the conversation where you usually give your name in return but… His name is pretty well known in the kingdom- with him being the prince and all. He’s not entirely sure he wants to give his name out. He doesn’t have an alias either.

After careful consideration, he blurts, “Mariana.” Which is not what he had planned on saying at all.

Across from him, Slime’s face doesn’t even twitch in recognition, he simply hums a soft note and drifts his gaze towards the wolf.

“How long was he chasing you?” Slime asks, moving to crouch over it. He unsheathes the sword from his hip and Mariana has to quickly look away in order to prevent scarring himself for life.

“I don’t know, do you usually hunt wolves?” Mariana fires back. Slime makes a vague sound that doesn’t really answer the question.

“Me and my daughter live in these woods. Wolves are just one of the things we have to deal with.”

Mariana’s face scrunches. “Is that safe? For a child, I mean.” Mariana asks. He hears a shuffle of leaves and then Slime is moving into his vision- wolf slung over his back.

“Trust me, she’s scarier than a lot of the things out here.” Slime gives him a grin like they’re sharing a secret.

“Right.” Mariana responds, dumbly. Slime begins to move back into the brambles, causing Mariana to scurry forward in order to keep up. Slime doesn’t follow the path, instead he simply drifts expertly through the trees with barely more than a thought.

It’s hard to keep up. Mariana isn’t used to the rough terrain of the woods, too familiar with the pristine hallways of the palace and paved paths in the gardens. He’s gets consistently whacked in the face by stray branches and stubs his toes on outcropping rocks and roots.

“You can stay at mine for the night. Flippa’d probably kill me if she learnt I left a poor unfortunate soul to navigate these woods by themselves.” Slime offers, turning back to give him a glance. “‘Specially if they’d already almost became a wolf’s lunch.”

The obvious dig does little for Mariana’s mood, but the promise of shelter for the night keeps him from firing back something /too mean.

“Thanks.” He responds instead, looking anywhere but Slime.

They wander through the woods for a while, before the trees begin to spread out, opening up to a clearing. Arching above is a tall cliff, moonlight spilling across the rock and casting deep shadows. At the bottom, a small house sits nestled in between an outcrop of stone and some brambles and bushes to the other side. The lights inside are a warm amber that creates a warm glow against the wood. Smoke drifts lazily from a chimney settled at the roof.

Slime cuts through the clearing, with only a glance back towards Mariana.

The inside of the house is.. cozy. It’s a small space with warm candlelight bouncing off the walls. A small fireplace is backed up against the far wall, a fuzzy couch with carved wooden supports takes up a good portion of the room, a small little kitchenette spreads along one wall, and two doors lead further into the home. A rug lays against the floor in between the couch and the fireplace. Knickknacks cover every exposed surface, ranging from pencils to mugs to little carved wooden animals.

Slime motions offhandedly to the couch before dropping the wolf against the floor in front of the kitchenette.

Mariana steps further into the home, brushing his fingers along the couch. Oh. Okay. That’s definitely an animal pelt. He turns to see Slime once again crouched over the carcass of the wolf.

“What’re you going to do with that?” He asks, noting that he sounds a bit alarmed. Slime glances over, looking confused.

“Uh- skin it?” He replies, though it sounds more like a question. “And then probably eat it.”

“Eat it?” Mariana repeats, feeling sick at the thought.

“Yeah..? That’s kind of why I killed it.” Slime responds, brows furrowed. Mariana gags, facing the opposite direction. That’s- that’s so /vile.

Instead, he settles himself down into the couch and watches the flames dance in the fireplace. He can almost hear the sounds of whatever Slime is doing behind him, but he forces himself to focus on the crackling of the fireplace in order to keep himself from probably throwing up.

It feels like it takes forever, but eventually Slime enters his vision, sans corpse.

“You gonna be alright sleeping there for the night?” He asks, looking a little amused. Mariana hates it.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” Mariana replies, not relaxing from his, admittedly, stiff posture. Slime shrugs and then opens one of the doors. Mariana catches a glimpse of a simple looking bedroom before Slime walks inside and closes the door.

Mariana huffs to himself. This isn’t exactly what he was expecting, but he also didn’t expect to be driven out of his home, so. He slouches down into the fur of the couch.

He /should get some sleep. He does have a plan to follow after all. He’ll need proper sunlight and rest in order to get to the dwarf mines, or even the next kingdom.

So, Mariana shuffles a bit deeper into the couch and tries to sleep.

A weight on his chest jerks him awake.

It’s such a jarring change in pace from how he usually wakes up that Mariana all but shoots up off the couch he’s fallen asleep in last night.

Mariana falls asleep and is woken up by Flippa, learns she’s a dragon and kinda freaks out a bit. Charlie explains the situation about adopting her. Mariana asks for directions to the Dwarf mines, but Charlie tells him that there’s no way Mariana’s making it there on his own. It’s too far. Mariana then asks for direction to the next kingdom, but same thing.

Mariana has nowhere to go rn, so Charlie offers to house him in return for manual labor. Mariana kinda hates this but it’s his only option rn.

Cue Mariana learning to cook and clean and do some woodworking (he loves it)

Mariana overhears the queens plan to murder him when he’s trying to pull a prank on her in her quarters, so he dips in the night.

Mariana gets attacked by wolves and Charlie saves him beauty and the beast style and Mariana ends up staying with Charlie and Flippa.

CHARLIE IS A DWARF or like a half dwarf lol- Flippa can still be a dragon! Maybe Charlie found her while hunting and took her in cuz he found her mother dying and saved Flippa. (Backstory that doesn’t matter but I might add for angst)

Flippa immediately becomes this little wingwoman, and tries to get them together, because TWO dads.

Mariana learns that he kinda doesn’t really wanna be king, cuz Charlie’s life is so much cooler actually.

The queen finds out Mariana isn’t dead and to finish the job- she does the apple thing.

Instead of an old lady- she disguises herself as Charlie to give him the apple. Mariana takes a bite- all trusting and in love and shit, when Flippa’s like- YOURE NOT MY DAD

and then BOOM he’s ded

YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

(If you don’t, the kiss blah blah blah, the end!! :])

#qsmp mariana #qsmp slimecicle #slimeriana #fanfic

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alis-the-narwhal · 9 months ago

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Soul Bond Marriage Scrap AU

These are going to be just straight out of my docs so don’t expect good editing or anything like that. We’re going oldest to newest btw so, enjoy!

Or; An AU where marriage merges the souls and Charlie is finally starting to learn what it means to be human.

Tags as I’m thinking of them so i don’t forget:

Dehumanization, Panic Attacks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Families, Charlie is Slime, Disassociation, Established Relationship, Soul Bond/Soulmates, Las Nevadas References,

Notes: You have no idea how incredibly hard this was to write. How do you describe sleeping without using sleeping terminology??????? How do you describe panicking without saying he’s panicking??

Charlie is not human. That is fact.

Sure, he’s treated as such. Ever since the day when he found the corpse of a fallen human and consumed it- merging with it.

Usually, this wouldn’t happen. Slime don’t become the things they eat. They simply eat.

What was different about this human- he does not know. He simply knows that suddenly he had legs to run with and lungs to breathe with.

But looking like a human does not make him one. This fact was painfully obvious when he stumbled into the city of Las Nevadas, oh so long ago.

He had watched humans parade about on the surface for so long, while he sat just under the soil. It should’ve been easy to pretend.

Quackity saw right through him.

He supposed his impressions needed work, and watching Quackity and the other people he interacted with, Charlie learned to act human. He was so good at it in fact, that when he arrived on Quesadilla Island, people thought he /was human. Or at least partly human.

(Hiding his slime was always the most difficult part of his act.)

In the comfort of his own company he could let the mask drop. He could relax his shoulders and slump back into himself.

He wanted to be human. He could act and pretend as much as he wanted, but he just wasn’t.

Charlie was only slime.

And then Mariana came into his life.

He met Mariana on his first day on Quesadilla Island. Honestly, Charlie didn’t think much of him. He was just another person invited to live on the island, now stuck here forever along with the rest of them. There wasn’t much interest in him at first.

Not until the island paired the two of them up together to raise an abandoned egg left behind by a dragon.

It was hard to adjust at first. Charlie hadn’t ever really paid attention to the loving couples and their children during his time as a slime. He never figured that he’d find himself in that position. There was no need to study or practice how to /love someone.

The only knowledge he had on relations were the fighting between the residents of Essempi. Even the people romantically involved always succumbed to anger and vitriol. It was the only basis he had for love.

So, his relationship with Mariana followed what little he knew about love.

They’d made a mutual decision to get married, for the sake of Juanaflippa. The first few days were /great. Charlie was riding a high and his chest felt light. He almost felt like this /could be what happiness felt like. But, he was only slime. Slime could not feel.

To cover up the problem, he began to do what he did best. He began to act. To put on the mask of being human.

Fights began to break out between the two of them. Screaming late into the night and going to bed alone, wide awake at the ceiling. Slime don’t sleep. Slime don’t feel. Slime don’t love.

The next couple of months were awful. Charlie couldn’t describe it. It almost felt like the feeling he got when he sunk into the earth. An all encompassing feeling of being /squished and forced into a too tight box. Some days his gut would twist and ache in ways it never had before.

And then he started feeling /wrong.

It started one afternoon when his body began to disobey him. A shakiness in his limbs set in and his brain felt more like sludge than usual.

The door of his home was solid, and it took him a solid good few seconds to realize he’d actually made it home. He remembers that he had went to go get something for dinner, and he feels the weight of it in his inventory. The walk here is a vague memory, images blurring out in his mind. The only thing he could focus on was the need to get home.

As steadily as he can, he braces himself against the wall to the side of the door and opens it. It creaks horribly in his ears and he swears to himself that it’s not usually this bad. He manages to get past the door which swings closed behind him with a /thud. He leans his back against the door, vision swimming and eyes blinking too slowly.

From deeper into the house, the sound of footsteps begin to pick up and then Mariana is standing in a far doorway, looking quite unimpressed.

“You were gone for three hours. Getting dinner shouldn’t take that long.” He sounds annoyed as he settles into the kitchen with an expectant expression on his face.

Three hours? Charlie swears it didn’t take that long. An hour, max. But, to be fair- he barely remembers the walk home. Was he really out of it for that long?

“Sorry. I have it, right here.” Charlie musters, not bothering to put the mask on. It just feels like too much work. Mariana’s expression twitches for a moment, but Charlie can’t comprehend any meaning.

After a slow moment of hyping himself up, Charlie pushes up off the door and moves towards the kitchen. His legs feel weak and he has to steady himself once more against the island. He puts the food he gathered onto the island; avocado toast- Juanaflippa’s favorite.

Mariana’s brow is furrowed when he chances a glance up at him. “Slime?” He asks, softly.

Charlie hums a response, but his brain feels like it's disconnected itself. At this point, he’s slouched himself over the counter, cheek pressed against the cold marble. His breath is warm, and a little humid against his face.

“When was the last time you slept?” Mariana whispers to him, which- weird. Charlie doesn’t do that. Slime don’t need to /sleep. They get all the energy they need from eating.

“I don’t do that.” Charlie replies. Distantly, he realizes that this was the /worst possible way to answer the question laid before him. He’s trying to hide the fact that he isn’t human, not reveal it like it’s common knowledge. Gods, life was so much easier when he was still a small blob, simply watching.

“Do what, sleep? Of course you sleep.” Mariana tells him, reaching forward and placing a palm against Charlie’s forehead. “Are you sick or something?”

“I don’t do that either.” Charlie answers, truthfully. There are a lot of things slime don’t do. Mariana scoffs quietly under his breath. The hand against his forehead disappears and then suddenly something is lifting him up off of the counter. He’s leaned up against something /warm and it both feels like it is and is not helping his situation.

Then, all too soon, he’s pushed down onto something soft. He’s surrounded by warmth and cloth. His body seems to melt, falling completely limp and his eyelids fall closed. Faintly, he hears Mariana say something, but then he’s swallowed whole and for a moment- he ceases to exist.

At least that’s the easiest way to describe it. One minute he’s feels /drained and on the verge of collapse and the the next-

The sun is shining through the window. His body feels better, like it did yesterday before the shakiness set in.

He doesn’t know what happened. This has never happened to him before. He’s never lost /hours of time like this before. He’s been aware of every moment of his existence until now. The idea that he wasn’t in control of his body for as long as he was-

There’s a thumping from his chest. He knows it’s there, it’s been there since he gained this body. But now, it steadily begins to pick up, he can /hear it. He’s never been able to hear it before. What’s worse is that his skin feels sticky.

Charlie knows what sleeping /is. In the sense that he’s seen other people do it, but he himself has never experienced it.

Was that what that was? Did he sleep? Or is it something worse.

If it was sleep? The better question is /why? Why now? Centuries after gaining this form. Why /now?

What else could change?

Mariana’s sitting in the living room when he finally makes it downstairs. There’s a cup of tea or something in his hand and he barely twitches when Charlie comes into the room.

For a moment, Charlie can only stare, before he sighs and moves into the kitchen. The tight feeling in his chest is back. Maybe food will help?

The avocado toast from last night is stuffed into one of the cabinets, and he pulls it out with little finesse. Slime can eat practically anything. Everything has energy that a slime can consume, Charlie just quite prefers human food. It tastes better than most of the stuff he’s consumed and he has consumed a /lot of weird things.

He eats in relative silence, only the sound of breathing and faint chirping from outside the window. He chances a glance up at Mariana, who has stayed resolutely still in his place. For a moment, Charlie wants to do what usually does- start a fight and then storm off, but-

The tightness in his chest only worsens at the thought, and for a moment he struggles to take a breath. Not that he needs to.

Instead, he tosses the thought away and decides something else.

“Thank you. For last night. I don’t-“ He hesitates when Mariana glances over with a raised eyebrow, “I don’t know what happened.” He finishes lamely. Mariana purses his lips, but sighs before dropping the teacup to his lap.

“It’s fine. You should take better care of yourself. <My husband dying is the last thing I need.>” He replies, mumbling the last bit in Spanish, but the translations give him away. The words give Charlie a weird little feeling, and he sorts it away in the ‘Deal With Later’ box he’s steadily filling up.

“I will.” Charlie promises, half wondering if that’s something he /can promise. He has no idea what’s happening to him right now. His mother and his siblings never experienced something like this. He’ll have to figure it out before it gets worse.

Mariana nods and then a strange expression crosses his face. “Last night, you said something. About how you don’t sleep.” Charlie’s heart drops. “What did you mean by that?”

Shit. Shit. Shitshit/shitshitshit. It’s fine, Charlie. Play it cool.

“Uhh…. It’s hard.” Great. Perfect. He can practically feel his mental facepalm.

“You have <insomnia?” Mariana questions, starting to sound genuinely concerned. Charlie hops on the bandwagon, nodding his head and slumping his shoulders in relief.

“Yeah, yeah I have- uh ensohmnia.” Charlie nods again- reading from the translation above his head- just to /really drill the point home.

“Insomnia.” Mariana corrects.

“Right. That.”

They stare at each other for a solid, awkward minute.

Thankfully, there’s a ping from Mariana’s communicator which redirects his attention. Charlie breaths out in relief as soon as Mariana looks away, slumping into himself. He watches as Marina texts back and forth for a moment before he huffs out in annoyance. He stands up, leaving his cup on the coffee table and makes his way over to the door, with barely a glance back at Charlie.

Just before Mariana opens the door, he glances back at Charlie for a moment in consideration.

“I’ll be back. Later.” Mariana tells him before leaving the house. The sound of the door closing feels too harsh for Charlie. Less like a goodbye and more like an end.

Charlie stands still, a little caught off guard, but he watches the door for a few seconds.

Apparently food does not help with the twisting in his gut. It almost makes it feel worse.

When Charlie drops Juanaflippa off at school, he feels a little lost. Something is /clearly wrong with him, but he doesn’t know what. He can’t think of anything he’s done recently to warrant the symptoms he has. Should he ask around?

It would be a good idea if he was human. But he isn’t. So, he’ll have to figure this out on his own.

This all started around when he married Mariana. He hadn’t really noticed at the beginning, but it has steadily escalated into something serious. Is it Mariana’s fault? Did Mariana do something to him?

No, that can’t be right. Even if Mariana did something like that- Charlie is slime. Most things that would work on a human don’t work on him, so there has to be another reason.

He huffs a breath, feet crunching on the path back to his house. He can see it up ahead, illuminated by sunlight and casting a large shadow over the earth.

He’s about to start up a slight jog when- from the other side of the wall- he sees Foolish.

And Mariana.

They’re just talking, nothing too strange. But then Mariana /laughs, looking so bright and carefree. Nothing like how he is around Charlie.

He stutters to a stop, just watching as Mariana and Foolish get further away.

Something bubbles in his gut, feeling like a sharp twist and pull. Like Charlie’s been poked by something too sharp and his slime is pulling it in. The place in his chest where his heart is supposed to be /burns. The fire gets a little stronger, seeming to spread around his chest.

He gasps, hand clenching into his shirt- right above his heart. His thoughts swirl again- the feeling leaving him breathless and strange like the other morning.

Maybe he /should talk to someone.

The only person vaguely aware of his.. condition, is Quackity. So Charlie sends a text to Mariana, asking if he’ll watch Juanaflippa for the night. Mariana’s response is devoid, but an agreement nonetheless.

When Mariana arrives after a couple of minutes, Charlie is pacing the floor. Juanaflippa is sitting on the couch simply watching- eyebrows twitching in a way Charlie can’t understand.

The door clicks open, but Charlie barely registers it- too focused on the /wrong in his chest. What if he’s dying? Quackity /has to know something. Or know someone who does. This can’t be-

“Slime.” Mariana calls out, standing in front of him. Charlie startles, because he could’ve /sworn-

“Yeah?” Charlie croaks, throat weirdly dry. Mariana’s face twitches.

“Are you… alright?” He asks, hands hovering in the air like he’s concerned Charlie will fall over again. Charlie’s not 100% sure he won’t.

“Yeah, yeah. Just fine.” Charlie claims, wiping sweat from his forehead. And /sweat? Charlie doesn’t-

“Maybe you should stay here.” Mariana offers.

“You’ve got her?” He asks instead of answering, motioning to Juanaflippa still on the couch.

Mariana nods cautiously. “Of course, but-“

“Great.” Charlie cuts him off, already moving towards the door. “I have to go.”

Charlie ignores Mariana calling his name as he descends the stairs- already hyper-focused on getting to Quackity’s home.

The walk is vague, practically static in his mind. He’s relying a lot on muscle-memory right now to navigate. Too worried that he’ll get distracted with anything else happening to him.

When he gets to the door, Quackity is there to greet him.

“Hey man, I got your text. What’s-“

Charlie pushes past him and into the house, too scared of anyone outside hearing the conversation. Quackity seems a little stunned, but takes it in stride and closes the door behind them.

“I need help.” Charlie starts, glancing over at Quackity.

“Okay?” Quackity drags the words out. “With what?”

Charlie breaths out, not quite knowing how to even get started.

“Something’s.. /wrong with me. The other day I felt- drained? Or something. I don’t know. But I- I /passed out.” Charlie looks up at Quackity, frantic. “I don’t /do that! I’ve never slept in my life! And then! I’ve been feeling this /twisting in my chest and it /hurts.”

Quackity’s face is carefully blank, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Charlie barrels over him.

“And today, I saw Mariana with Foolish and it felt like my chest was just on fire. And I was /sweating earlier. Something is like /really wrong with man, and I don’t know where it came from or how to fix it and-“

“Charlie.” Quackity cuts him off, hands landing gently onto his shoulders. There’s a tiny smile on his face.

“What?” Charlie asks, sounding like a strangled cat.

“You were jealous.” Quackity tells, sounding quite amused.

“Jealous?”

Quackity hums in agreement. “And tired. And sad. What you’ve been feeling are /emotions Charlie.”

Something inside of his brain /drops. Emotions? No. He can’t- He doesn’t /do that.

/Slime don’t feel/.

So why is he?

“That’s not possible. I’ve never been able to..” He trails off, feeling helpless.

Quackity tilts his head in consideration. “Frankly, I have no Idea. You’re the slime here, so. This is more your territory than mine.”

“I guess.” Charlie replies, feeling numb and like all of this /emotion has abandoned him.

“This is a good thing though, right? I mean, you’re /finally starting to be human. Like you’ve always wanted.”

And Quackity is right. Charlie has always wanted to be human. Watching them wasn’t enough, he needed to /be one. But now-

This is terrifying and new. It’s sudden and against his will. Charlie had come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be like the other people he’d made friends with. He /knew that he was always going to be an outlier. He’d accepted that.

So why now? Why after /centuries of wishing is his only dream coming true?

His breath is coming in fast and he’s sweating again. All the /emotion that had left him is crashing back down onto his lungs. His vision is blurring slightly and he can only kind of hear Quackity calling his name out.

“Charlie. Charlie, you need to breathe.”

But Charlie doesn’t /do that. He feels like he doesn’t know how anymore.

There’s a cord around his throat, tightening and tightening and /tightening.

He can still feel Quackity’s hands on his shoulders, applying pressure, but now he can also feel hard wood against his back and the bottom of his thighs.

He’s.. sitting down now. He wasn’t before.

“Charlie, I think you’re having a panic attack.” Quackity’s voice comes from above him.

He doesn’t know what that is. He doesn’t think he knows /anything anymore.

“Charlie, just- just /listen to me. Alright? Simple enough?”

Yeah. He can listen.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you about my day with Tilin? Is that alright?”

After a quiet moment, Quackity’s voice begins to fill the air, talking about his day with Tilin. It’s easier to focus on his voice rather than the swirling vortex in his mind. His body starts to feel better, less like it’s trying to kill him and the tightening on his throat steadily eases up.

Soon, Charlie can focus on other things in the room. The crafting table has some spare sticks lying on top. The furnace is cooking /something and it makes the house smell like smoking embers. The windows show the trees outside, stray leaves drifting to the floor gracefully.

“Hey.” Quackity redirects his attention, looking concerned.

“Hey.” Charlie responds. Quackity breathes a sigh of what seems to be relief.

“You’re back, that’s good.” He mumbles to himself. “You okay?”

Is he?

“Yeah. I’m great.” Charlie assures, more for himself than for Quackity. Quackity looks like he doesn’t believe him but thankfully stays silent.

“Maybe you should sleep here tonight. I don’t feel too well about letting you walk home like this.” Quackity tells him, standing up and heading to a spare bedroom.

“I can’t. I told Mariana I’d be-“

“I’ll text him. Let him know you’re staying here.” Quackity assures, practically lifting Charlie out of the chair and pushing him into the spare bedroom. “Just sleep.”

Charlie nods, too tired to put up a fight anymore. He slumps down into the bed, watching as Quackity pulls his communicator out as he shuts the door.

When he’s left with silence, Charlie turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling, hoping for another night of watching. Maybe Quackity was wrong. Maybe he’s still normal. Maybe he won’t have to worry about getting any worse. Maybe it’ll all go away overnight.

His eyelids start to feel heavy after a while, and honestly it’s too much work to keep them open. He can just close his eyes. It’ll be fine. He won’t fall asleep.

When he opens his eyes next- sunlight is pouring through the window. The sudden brightness causes an ache to form in his head. He groans aloud as he sits up.

“I am not going to get used to that any time soon.” Charlie comments to himself. He feels better than last night. There’s not this overwhelming feeling of- what did Quackity call it? Panic?

There’s a solid moment where he simply stares at the opposite wall and then-

Someone is slamming on the front door. The thumps echo throughout the house and he can hear Quackity call out a couple of swears in Spanish as he goes to answer the door.

Charlie stares wide-eyed at the door as the shouting grows a bit louder and is that-?

Stomping footsteps trail their way up to the door of the room he’s in and then-

Mariana is forcing himself inside, looking a mix of angry and irritated. For a split second Charlie is worried he fucked up but then Mariana seems to finally notice him on the bed. His face goes through a complicated series of emotions before settling on worry.

“Quackity told me you freaked out last night. I /told you that you should’ve stayed at the house. <What was I thinking letting you go out when you were freaked out like that>?” Mariana begins to scold himself in Spanish, pacing the length of the room.

Stunned, Charlie can only watch- almost not noticing Juanaflippa climb up onto the bed and force her way into Charlie’s lap.

‘Are you okay?’ She signs, eyebrows furrowed and scaled cheeks scrunched.

Charlie /hates lying to her, but not answering is worse.

“Not really.” He tells her. Mariana cuts himself off when Charlie speaks. “I’m-“

How does he even describe what’s going on?

“There’s a couple of things I’m having to deal with right now. Not all of them are good, but-“ Charlie trails off, staring down at his daughter.

His chest isn’t twisting. Instead it feels /warm. Not the warmth of the fire that he felt when he saw Mariana and Foolish. But warmth like a reprieve from shivering cold.

“I’m gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Juanaflippa nods. ‘Me too.’ She signs and Charlie laughs.

The bed creaks slightly from Mariana sitting down in front of them. He sighs but his hand reaches out to take Charlie’s.

Charlie feels like he’s aware of every place they touch. His skin /burns where Mariana has a hold of it. But it also feels like the comfort of the caves he was born in. It feels like relief and something Charlie can’t exactly name but feels so /right.

“Don’t scare me like that, <asshole.” Mariana tells him, sounding annoyed and aloof, but the way his hand tightens tells Charlie that he doesn’t mean it.

“I’ll try not to.” Charlie promises, feeling like maybe he should tell Mariana the truth. That Charlie isn’t as human as he seems. How would he react? Would their already strenuous relationship get worse with the knowledge that what Mariana married isn’t even a real person?

It’s not a good idea to risk it, Charlie thinks.

Part Two

When Mariana was young, marriage was something /coveted in his town. There were always stories of how you needed to pick the right person. Your forever. Because they were. Forever, that is.

It was like this: Two souls bonded by the ties of holy matrimony become one. In every aspect. Sure, the bond would form differently for every pair, but more often than not you were much more aware of your spouse.

(Mariana gets glimpses of Slime’s emotions sometimes. It’s how his bond formed. He’s not sure how Slime’s has formed, they don’t talk about it.)

Mariana’s sense of normality is- shifted at best. Living with Charlie Slimecicle will do that to you, he supposes. Slime is different than anyone he’s ever met. There’s something /off about him that sometimes makes Mariana want to run and hide.

But, they have a daughter together. They’re married. They share a soul. It doesn’t matter how much Slime makes him feel. Mariana has a vow he will stick to.

Charlie Slimecicle is not normal, is what he’s trying to say. He doesn’t need the bond to know that.

But recently, Slime is dealing with something that Mariana can feel intimately. A sense of panic. Confusion. Helplessness. It pulls and tugs at the place in his chest that their soul is settled.

Mariana doesn’t want to lie and say that he’s not worried. He loves Slime. He wouldn’t have married him and become his forever if he didn’t.

The problem of the matter is that Slime’s soul feels like its changing. Mariana’s never been able to feel Slime so intimately. Usually, Slime’s emotions and pain are muffled by something that almost feels like sludge. Which, Mariana thinks, is quite ironic.

The Slime sitting in front of him right now feels helpless but hopeful, and Mariana can /feel it.

There’s a sense of relief too, and Mariana wants to pick and dissect at everything that makes Slime /Slime. He wants to know everything that goes on in his head. He wants to know Slime inside and out. Wants to understand why Slime’s soul is becoming clearer and clearer as the days pass. Wants to be loved by Slime like he loves him.

He wants everything that Slime is willing to give him, and right now- it’s not much.

Mariana will change that, but he has to be patient.

Getting Slime home is a lot easier than he thought it would be. Juanaflippa helps by leading him along and rambling with her hands. Slime listens intently and Mariana can feel his contentment that- for now- is overshadowing the panic he’s been feeling the past couple of days.

Once they finally make it inside, Mariana practically forces Slime onto the couch in order to make breakfast.

It’s the only way Mariana can offer support at the moment. /Feeling Slime’s panic last night and not being able to do anything was physically painful. So, for now, he can offer comfort in the form of a freshly cooked meal.

—————

At the end, as a way of making Charlie feel more human, Mariana stops calling him Slime. This happens after the reveal (which I can’t decide if it’ll be angsty or not yet) of Charlie being, well a slime lol. But it’s supposed to feel like Charlie is finally human instead of just pretending to be one.

Charlie changed into a more uhh sentient? version of slime because he consumed the corpse of fallen SCU!charlie. It gave him life in kind of the only way it could- a functioning (mostly) body. This is just a fun fact cuz I can’t think of a way to work this into the story besides vaguely implying it at the beginning.

Charlie’s just a scraggly lil guy that has NO idea what’s goin on with him rn, and I want it to be so visibly apparent that even the reader is confused.

—————

Marriage soul bond mariana thing

Maybe angst with charlie being a slime pretending to be human and the bond gives him his first set of emotions and stuff,

I wanna do more eldritch stuff

Maybe like charlie is gen a slime and being married to mariana starts kinda making him feel more human- maybe even hes turning into one because of the shared soul

Idk

They go on date with jaidens suggestion

It's just them like, trying to fiz their relationship and Charlie absolutely suffering because he has no idea what emotions are and they like- hurt?

#qsmp mariana #qsmp slimecicle #slimeriana

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