[Yaoiverse roleplay blog, now managed by @patorucho]
[Note: A general recap with previous storylines from the previous blog will be made soon. Changes will be made.]
[Admin only knows English/Tagalog, but will try to provide a Spanish translation]
🦷 Things to know about y!Charlie:
☢ He uses he/him pronouns, occasionally she/her but he doesn't care. Sex? Yes please!! Oh- OHH. You mean gender. Uhhh. Schlime.
☢ He goes by Charlie or Slime, full name Charlie Slimecicle. Nickname El Backflipo. Petname uhh fuck you only my WIFE gets to know. Unless you're uhh ahahaha... seeing me later if you catch my drrrift ;) Organ swapping am I right? [I'll take your liver and your lungs and you can have a piece of my uhh left nipple]
☢ She's an eldritch slime demon, but tends to hide it with a flesh disguise. Charlie's uhhh. Not adopted but surely a little ~different~ from his siblings. Isn't that quirky of him? [Gross slimy fleshy unconvincing giggling]
☢ I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU SAND ME DOWN!! I AM CRAZY DUDE. I AM THE DEFINITION OF FUCKING CRAZY. THEY CALL ME THE SCHLOKER, WHY SO SLIMERIOUS THEY ASK? WHY SO FREAKY? BECAUSE I'M CRAZY THEY SAY! THE RATS! THE FUCKING RATS! WHAT RATS? I FUCKING ATE THEM. I'M CRAZY! ASYLUM! ASYLUM! WITH FUCKING RATS. AND I HAVE EPIC GAY SEX EVERY NIGHT WITH MY WIFE, AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SAYS? SHE SAYS MI AMOR, FUCKING KILL YOURSELF. YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT BITCH? MAYBE I JUST WILL! BECAUSE. I. EAT. RATS.
☢ Disgusting freak of nature
☢ Mostly goofy, sometimes not. Do you get to know? No, fuck you.
☢ From SCU and Tommyinnit Mod Videos! Not c!Slime, but you fucking wish don't you fuckers.
🧠 Tags he'll use:
✘ #schlop posting - text posts
✘ #you gunkin? - asks
✘ #sludge dissolve - in character reblogs
✘ #slime right in - lit rp threads
✘ #slime you later - end of roleplay
✘ #all schleeing eyes + #ooc - out of character
☣ #yaoiverse - general yv tag
☣ #straightverse - general angst tag
☣ #sexoverse - general suggestive tag
☣ #yuriverse - general non canon tag
🏳️🌈 Tags when talking to Faggot Funland:
[Can- Can I even reclaim that? Chat can I say schlaggots instead? Chat I need to know what schlurs I can reclaim]
🫀 I'm not the dad that stepped up, I'm the father that fucking FORGOT [Family]:
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"come home and see my girl cave :)" I say flirtily. You agree, imagining a rec room with some couches and maybe a few vintage consoles. I lead you down into the basement, where I have carved out a slimy grotto with its own ecosystem. by the time you see me dive into the water and come up with a fish in my teeth, it's too late. You want to fuck me so badly.
Claustrophobia isn't something slimes are afraid of. The purpose of their life is to squeeze in any kind of space, taking its shape and sticking to whatever surface its mass has clung onto. The mob has evolved over time, eventually diverging off to becoming a species and its subcategories.
Slimes are meant to be trapped in tight spaces.
Charlie wakes up where air doesn't reach him. It's uncomfortable, with undiscernable debris digging into his flesh. It's too dark to see, why couldn't his unknown most likely dead ancestors develop night-vision?
The first thing he does is move, shimmying his limbs to try and distinguish where he is right now. The space is crumbling, yet packed. It feels like dirt. It might be dirt, considering the taste and the way his body wholly rejected clumps seeping into the slime of his skin. Okay, don't panic. Clearly buried underneath the fucking ground. No, no, it's fine,
"WHAT THE FUCK!?" He screams, as his second course of action.
Then, turning back to moving his body, he focuses on his arms, trying to push the dirt ceiling upwards for more breathing room. Christ, he'd think he'd be okay with this, considering the brief history introduction. The dirt doesn't budge a fucking inch, and he wheezes out in despair.
Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.
It's not like - anything he hasn't been in before. It's just a fucking hole. A convienient Slimecicle shaped hole. As if having your life be shaped by a teenager over and over, to have your life be reshaped AGAIN by some rather handsome mysterious apple shopkeep, to then move away from all that to settle down and have an unplanned marriage and child, and to now be suddenly entrapped in his own burial, is just something Charlie can just get over with right?
"Hey, HEY!" He screams, to whoever put him in this space. "LET ME OUT! WHAT- WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"
His palms push against the walls, anywhere, legs kicking as well to truly demonstrate how panicked he is to all of this. He shouldn't be here. He- He should be at home, with his Mariana, his Flippa. He should be exploring, and talking with his friends.
Charlie should be outside.
Time begins to cease. He goes into a loop; scream, push, get tired, rest, repeat. His throat feels sore, slimy flesh looking like jello with every push of his lungs to cry for help. It's maddening, to be inside this confined dirt hole. He should be okay with this. He should be okay.
Charlie's fists are muddied with a murky color of brown and green. His clothes and shoes are caked in dirt and all of his slime starts collecting debris like twigs and rocks. Tears well up in his eyes as he yells.
"FUCKING LET ME OUT ALREADY! PLEASE!" His voice starts to waver, almost tapping into wet gurgles of his eldritch form. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I DID OR- OR EVEN WHO YOU THE FUCK ARE, BUT I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE HERE!!"
"TELL ME WHAT AND WHO THE FUCK LANDED ME IN DIRT SHIT PRISON!!"
"Why you did,"
Hands raise from the ground, covering his mouth and restraining him to the bottom of the crevice. His words sound unconprehensible, he's under slime. These hands, the ones holding him down, are like his own, green and translucent in all the right places. There's no fake flesh on them, and there's definitely way more than the two he has right now. What the absolute fuck.
A weight appears next to his shoulder, right under his head. Hot breath with a hint of a smile speaks in his voice. Charlie feels a shiver go down his spine.
"Don't you remember anything?" It- he? asks himself, as Charlie struggles against clamping hands. "You got yourself in this situation, you silly funny thing, you!"
His cheek gets pinched and pulled, pain drawing from the pressure, but all he could think about is what, or why, or most importantly how. Charlie tries to talk back, thinking aloud and muffled.
"How," is all he could muster to say beneath the hand. The second him laughs almost too sweet, almost too perfect, almost too him. It would've been an exact copy, if it didn't waver in odd noises at every other "ha!".
This shouldn't feel real, but it fucking does look like it right about now.
Slime, he calls the other him for now, slithers its tongues against the walls of the hole. It's him if he was in his true form, eldritch with hundreds of tendrils spilling out of his slimy body. There's just a problem with this doppelganger however, and it's that Charlie doesn't have any black gunk mixed with his sickened green. He also doesn't think he'd twitch and jitter as much as this one does. A tendril slips under his chin like a hand.
"Oh, you poor poor sweet summer Slimecicle!" It exclaims, wriggling his chin. He keeps struggling. "Do you really want to know?" The tendrils slips away with a gross trail, alarming black sludge getting dissolved into his own slime. He feels light-headed. "Or would you rather pass out and let this happen?"
Charlie bites on the hand that silences him, slime entering his mouth, as sharp fangs cut through. "SHUT UP!" He replies, "Fuck off, you- you fucking slimepostor son of a bitch!
"I didn't- I didn't fucking bury myself in this hole, at least not this cramped and fucking underground of all places!"
Slime cackles at his struggles, squeezing his body tight enough that it illicits a dry wheeze. More pounds of slime cover over him like a thick blanket, forcing him to be stuck against the floor. The dirt has long left him, in a way that he didn't even notice as his back is now pressed against more slime.
"No, I suppose not. But you still got yourself here, buddy!
"I don't think living people get sent six feet under!" It chirps. "Don't you think so, corpse-o?" Slime moves Charlie's head to mimic a nod, "Of course you do, corpse-o! Oh you!"
Charlie jerks his head back, "Fuck you." He spits. "I- What am I even doing here? What do you want with me? Where the- Where the fuck even am I?"
He turns his head, expecting to face Slime fully, but the head leaning on his shoulder isn't there anymore. His body feels lighter even. In the rush of being free, he turns back to the ceiling, only to find Slime in front instead. Its hands stretched out like an angel, caressing his face as if it was. The tight space squeezes against his body.
"You're me." It says, body paralleling his on the ceiling. "Well, more accurately, I'm you.
"And no worries, I'm just taking over for you while you sleep in here." Slime pats the side of the left over dirt walls. "All your memories, all your thoughts, your appearance and entire life is slowly being transferred over to me overtime. So don't worry about waking up a little less like you each time.
"I'm making this as painless as possible for the dead guy."
Horror flashes in Charlie's eyes, widening at the sudden shock of the confirmation of his death. He shouldn't be surprised, he was fucking called corpse-o of all fucking things, and it was said in such manner that the other him truly was him. He needs to say something. "I-
"How are you doing this?" He questions. "I- the mimicking, the- the fucking hole! The teleporting??" He laughs nervously. "If- If I was like- actually dead, I wouldn't even be talking."
Slime thinks about this for a moment, extra hands acting apart of his expression, placing themselves under his chin with a finger pointing at his crainium. His own hands pat his origin's cheeks. "Well, I'm just showing you what I want you to see.
"Like obviously, you wouldn't be seeing and feeling this if you were actually dead, but physically? In the real world out there?"
His hands pull at Cicle's slimy cheeks.
"You're as dead as a fucking um, well dead guy." He laughs. "Yeah, no, right now? I'm using your body as we speak. We're laying in bed, as your wife's curling up against us. He's warm.
"Do you even remember her name? Do you even remember your own?"
Cicle opens his mouth, trying to process everything while finding an answer to the question. There's nothing in there. He doesn't remember anything. He goes quiet, instead, face falling to truly comprehend the horrors of being replaced. Dying isn't even what's the most shocking to him, it's that he's being drained of everything he is, and all of that is being transferred to a fucking joke of a double.
He doesn't even know his name.
"...Hey, cheer up, man."
Their chin gets lifted up to Charlie smiling sweetly at them, the blackened slime mixing into theirs. A tendril drags itself across their face, mushing their glasses to the side. Charlie laughs, voice pitching in intervals. For a brief second, his face looked like a shadow, with piercing green eyes and flickering neon scales. But it's Charlie, Charlie Slimecicle with tanned flesh and green goo, brown hair and glasses over forest green eyes. Dark mucus dotting in his sludge.
Cicle smiles, unintentionally, like an uncontrolled habit from seeing themself in the mirror. And Charlie's lips open,
"I'll remember it for you." He whispers.
Then he moves, lunging from where he lays onto Slimecicle, mushing their faces and melding their bodies together into an amalgamation of gunk and life. Limbs of varying discernity fly up and around like a brawl as the monster takes its shape. The world shakes in a tidal wave with the slimebeast as its gravity, spinning and turning surroundings into a mesh of confusion as they are the focus of everything.
It feels like a nightmare, then a hazy dream, then the morning where he creaks his eyes open again.
He turns to his side, expecting another him to show up, but he gets greeted with a sleeping beauty. His hand brushes against Mariana's hair, moving a couple stray bangs just to see him fully.
In the back of his eyes, Charlie lights up in a soft adoring glow, while the front seems to be staring too intently. As if he wasn't looking at Mariana at all, but rather the air before her.
Slime lifts himself up, hand continuing to comb through his wife's head. While Charlie screams in muffled cries, buried deep below in the recesses of his mind, slowly being eaten away by the parasite that's claimed him.
The whole window thing had been a joke originally. The best time-saving solution was to have the builder himself do it, but said builder and husband was out of commission for a while. Okay, cool.
Now Quackity has to wonder if Slime is actually going to come over under the idea of replacing glass. Quackity, as weird as it sounded, did like Slime’s company. Changing glass though?
Quackity was bad enough on her own. Quackity and Slime were a bit of a messy duo. Asking Slime to replace the glass had been a joke- more of a scheme to hangout. The other might be busy in some way? Maybe? But then that defeats the purpose of all of this. She couldn’t just not replace them though. Last thing she wanted was a thief to get in the house. Not that she had much of value. Luzu maybe, hard maybe.
Pacing in circles in the living room was a rather effective way to avoid shattering a glass pane. All the replacements were laid against the wall as Quackity spent more time debating fixing them over actually fixing them.
Charlie greets, entering her house. The door doesn't get shut, nor does it even open. No, he calmly crashes (well, walks over) through the already broken window. The glass seeps in his body, with shards already rejecting to be inside the slime. He makes no note of it.
“Slime?!” Quackity jumped, whipping out the closest “weapon” she had, a nice little pair of sheers. For thinking about Charlie she was surprised to actually see him in person.
“Slime!” She quickly threw the sheers down, and would have gone in for a friendly hug, before remembering right. He just came through my window. There are currently shards of glass in his.. slime.
Instead, she gave him a shoulder pat and grinned. “Hey, hey! Yeah, I’m good I’m good, how are you?”
"I'm good, I'm good!" He replies, hand patting over hers with a grin on his own face. Charlie jerks his head over to a window sill. "You know, just doing my thing! Like being funny and all that, you know?"
He sighs, wistfully, as if there was anything to remember. "I'm funny, I'm Charlie Slimecicle. You're Quackity." Slime says, smiling, slime twitching.
"And I'm here for windows, right? Windows? I need to fix up windows, right?" He points over to the window sill again, this time with his index finger.
“Right. Windows.” The very thing she had been avoiding. She takes a moment to look between the windows and Charlie.
She debated her options. Charlie by himself would probably end up in a disaster. Quackity by herself would probably end up in a disaster. If Quackity and Charlie do it together though at least she can look Luzu in the eyes later and say ‘I tried’.
“Yeah! You’re here to help me with windows. Because I got hit in the head four times with rocks. But this time I’ll let it slide.” Quackity walked over to the window sill and leaned against the wall.
“Think you can handle that, Charlie Slimecicle?” Despite the grin on her lips, she accidentally misplaced her footing and nearly fell out her own window. Shrieking and mumbling various curses to the world.
"Heh-" Charlie snickers, going to a wide grin. "I'm Charlie Slimeci-cicle!" His voice weirdly wavers, but the tone carries over as if it was smooth. His throat doesn't even warble. "Fucking here to sort with your windows. Breaking and entering."
"Do blocks just place together automatically or do you think they'd need some sort of adhesive?" Slime questions aloud, gesturing towards the hole in Quackity's wall. His nose wrinkles in thought. "Like- do I need to be glue here, get glue, eat glue, or do they just like go together?"
“What’re you- eat the glue? If this needs glue at all we’re fucked. I don’t even know where we would have that.” Quackity flapped her wings in a show of exaggeration. Hell, she isn’t even sure who she could steal glue from if they needed it.
“Give me a hand Charlie.” She suddenly moves to pick up one of the panes. “Let’s test this shit. Let’s just stick it in place and see what happens. If it breaks there’s a broom somewhere.”
"Quackity, I hate to tell you this but I am part glue on my father's side." Slime moves over to help by instinct, but instead hovers over the pane with his hands raised in hesistation. "What if it sticks to me?"
“Really wish I knew this before I picked up glass!” Quackity huffed as she balanced the glass in her hands the best she could. “Okay, okay, don’t touch it. But if you’re somehow part glue maybe you coat the window sill and i put it in. Divide and conquer or some shit.”
Quackity took a step the side as the glass tipped. “Fuck- let’s give it a shot?”
Charlie then does what he does best, and slimes all over the place. The place being the window sill, and slimes... well, it should be obvious, duh. He sticks an arm over, flesh-colored in disguise but pure slime, and yanks it all over the sides of the sill. It looks like he's tracing each block corner like a bored toddler.
When he pulls back, the entire hole is covered in slick green goo. It even drips down his walls like blood.
“Good enough!” Quackity began walking over, fighting to keep her balance as she stumbled over to the sill. To the best over her abilities she tries to slide the pane in. At first it was easy, sliding right onto the goop covering the sill. As the glue took hold though she began fighting to keep it going into place, pushing on the glass.
“Jesus Christ, Slime! I didn’t realize you were so fucking- sticky? Tough?” The glass stopped budging. With the window mostly, hopefully, secured, she stepped back to admire their work. It looked like a green murder scene. Not the most pleasant thing to look at but cleanup can happen later. Quackity smiled and went to wipe her hands, then noticed a little goop.
“Hey, uh, Slime. This can come off right?” She holds up her hand covered in slime.
Her smile dropped to a frown. “What do you fucking mean no? There has to be some way to get it off!”
No fucking way this stuff is stuck on her right? It can come off eventually. It has to. How is she supposed to live with Charlie’s slime stuck on her hand? Maybe he’s just kidding, Charlie is a jokester after all. Probably a convincing act.
“There has to be a way. Charlie you can’t do any weird shit to get it off?!”
Slime bursts into loud cackles of laughter. Her shit-eating grin hasn't wiped off his face. "Well I'm sorry, Quackity! Soon enough it'll seep into your bones and you'll be just like me!" He says, laughter dying down to lighthearted conversation.
He pats Quackity's back. "This is how you finally get the bitches you always wanted, Quackity! Women love the gunk."
The only response she could give at first was staring in horror at her hand. For all Quackity knew that could mean a number of different things. All of which she really didn’t want to find out.
“Charlie. Slime. What the fuck do you mean it will ‘seep into my bones’? Is it going to take my fucking hand?!” As she speaks she turns to grab Charlie by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth. “Why is this something you can do! Am I fucked?!”
Quackity stares at Charlie, eyes scanning over his face. Less of analyzing the details more of a slow decline into panic. Her eyes stopped darting around and she just stood arms still gripped on Charlie’s shoulders.
And adrubtly screamed. Quackity pushed herself away from Slime and held onto her beanie. “My life is over!”
Slime shakes his head, tutting at her anguish. "Now now Quackity, let's be real here. The slime does not make you bald, it in fact, gives you more hair and so much more hair." In the light-hearted fashion that is Charlie Slimecicle, he pats her back yet again, this time with a prop of his arm over her shoulders.
"Your beautiful transitioning life will flourish with ease as a slime, trust me. I wish this was what's happening."
Charlie blinks, snickering and turning to stifle his laughter with an unaware grin. "Quackity, I don't think slime estrogen exists yet. I mean I wish, but I was joking! Just a joke, girl!" He throws his hands up in harmless defense.
“Right, right.” Quackity begins to chuckle, a soft sound at first that that becomes a full blown laugh. A laugh that becomes so hard she actually goes to hold onto her knees to keep from falling over.
When she comes back up she wipes her eyes and smiles. “Really good one. Good shit. What are your thoughts if I were to you know just attack you with a sword?”
“No reason. Hey I’ve gotta get something from my room okay? Just stay here. I’ll be right back.” Quackity asks, leaving Slime and their singular repaired window goop mess to retreat up the stairs.
"Okay!" Charlie blissfully stands there facing towards the window. He mindlessly hums a few tunes, almost perfectly in tune and pitched correctly. His tail wags behind his stabbable back.
Only the sounds of Charlie’s humming fill the room. The rest of the house is quiet. Even the footsteps of Quackity entering and exiting her and Luzu’s room, leaving the other just as unaware as her true target.
She listens to Slime hum as she draws closer to the living room. There’s not a single point in her life where she has been so careful to not alert somebody.
This goes immediately out the window as her feet hit the living room entryway. She practically barrels at Slimes back throwing her arms up with her sword aimed at the center.
A gross wet slap noise emits from the swinging of the blade at Charlie's body, with the contact slicing his body in full halves. The impact was so sudden that what's considered to be the "top" half of his body flies out the newly fixed window, with more slime tacking against the wall.
The other half, fittingly starts to melt by her feet, almost like candle wax burning at the speed of sound. Wet thwacks are heard from the other side of Quackity's house.
That wasn’t the plan. Oh fuck that was not the plan! Quackity meant to give Slime time to run! A stupid fucked up game of chase or something! And Quackity did not expect to kill Slime in one hit!
Quackity can only look in utter horror at the sight of the previous upper half of Charlie melting way too close to her feet. It’s disgusting and Quackity wants to look away but she can’t bring herself to move. The sword now coated with the goo of Charlie Slimecicle drops down next to her, the clank muffled by the slap of the slime (guts?).
Any other day Quackity would consider this a win. Look guys! I can kill people! See I’m not weak! Slime came over to help her fix her windows, they had a good time up until Slimes joke. Did it really warrant Quackity killing Slime?
Debatable actually. Thats a whole other mental debate she isn’t going to have.
Awkwardly standing gets nothing done and her mind flips to uselessly shouting, “I’M SORRY!” And covering her own mouth as if she wasn’t the one wielding the sword.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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wife help whothe Ffuck is this strange susඞ omposter clone of our daughterwith a handlebar mustache and this other daughterwho doesnt look remotely like our childbut is a child within our home so therefore lives in our houseby this logic🧠
wife help whothe Ffuck is this strange susඞ omposter clone of our daughterwith a handlebar mustache and this other daughterwho doesnt look remotely like our childbut is a child within our home so therefore lives in our houseby this logic🧠
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming