generation loss oneshots

He Said Screw It, Imma Smile Right Through It Then Scream When No One's Around

Title is lyrics from an AJR song that inspired this even tho the story ended up different from the initial idea

Something weird was happening to Slimecicle. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong, but something didn't feel right.

He felt like he was pretending to be someone he wasn't, but he had always been a demon covered in slime that lived in a cabin, so why did he feel like that?

If he had really thought about it, he would have realized that he couldn't remember anything before he burst out of the kitchen with a "boo, bitch!"

Instructing this person felt right. What was his name? Rainbow? Something like that.

Threatening him felt right. Being in charge felt right. Like he had done it before. To someone in the basement. He couldn't remember who was in the basement though, and he didn't care.

"If you don't cook me the best meal of all time, Rambus," he told the person in his cabin, "I'll cook you. And you don't want to know what happens after that."

The tall person nodded and started frantically looking around for food, like he feared for his life. Good, that meant Slime's threats were working.

"There's nothing in here!" Ranboo said, grabbing a wooden spoon and smacking it against their hand in clear anxiety.

"Well you'd better find something or you're fried, bitch!" Slime said, letting an erratic giggle bubble out of him.

Ranboo looked like he was about to cry, and a sudden jolt of discomfort jarred Slime, so he added, "Why don't you check the fridge?"

Why did he say that? He didn't want to help Ranboo, he wanted to kill him for existing!

"I did! There's nothing in there!" Ranboo cried, half-turning to look at the small refrigerator.

Slime's mouth moved before he could stop it, words pushing out from his throat. "Look again."

Ranboo sighed and turned fully, reaching for the handle before pulling it open. Odd assortments of food cluttered the shelves, everything from pickles to a slime in a plastic container usually reserved for pudding.

"But this was-" Ranboo started.

"Fuckin' get to it, we don't have all day," Slime interrupted.

"Right, uh-" Ranboo stuck his head in the refrigerator and Slime took that as his queue to exit.

He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay and tease Ranboo about how much he sucked at cooking, but his legs pulled him towards the door, and he found himself in the living room.

He could hardly hear Ranboo anymore, despite only being a few feet away from the kitchen, but maybe he could torment him from this room instead.

Just as Slime was opening his mouth to throw an insult at Ranboo, something slid away from his mind.

A fog over his vision cleared, his urge to fucking MURDER RANBOO melted.

Charlie blinked, drawing in a sharp breath when he realized he had no idea where he was. Well, obviously he was in a cabin. But where this cabin was, he had no idea.

He knew someone was in the other room. Charlie even knew his name. But he didn't really know why. Maybe Ranboo would know what was happening.

He went to move into the kitchen but he was stuck to the floor. His legs refused to move, even his arms were stiff at his sides, unable to move.

"Hello?" Charlie called, struggling to get any part of him unstuck. Why was he in a suit covered in slime? "Ranboo? Where am I?"

His voice felt quiet in the empty room, only barely making it to his own ears. This was a dream, that was it. This was just a fever dream, it'll go away.