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twocorvids · 2 years

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haha, it’s been awhile— but @theresonlyzuul I have the birdrick fic you requested all that while back! sorry for the month-long delay, life got VERYY hectic. more notes will be at the end of the req! this is birdrick angst btw. (sorry, I can’t help it lol.)

———

Birdperson learns that Rick is at his happiest when he's too drunk to remember much.

He learns this in week three of knowing this hurricane of a man. (He'd learned he was a hurricane of a man the first. When the simple act of getting high with enough people he considered personable enough led to the creation of their band. A natural disaster can label another, he muses.) When he's drunk, the man loops between people in the clubs, interjects himself into every conversation he is allowed. He leans into others when he almost falls, and even in week three, Birdperson knows that's an action he tends to stray from.

It's in the midst of the flashing purple lights of a dim alien club when Rick gifts this knowledge to him, whether he knows it or not.

"Y'know," Rick says, stretching his arm over Birdperson's shoulders, "I — I think I'm getting a little attached to you!" He doesn't react when Rick turns to look at him, nearly close enough for their noses to brush. It's all very teasing — from the smirk on his face to the way Rick's hand roughly pats down Birdperson's shoulder.

It’s all a little condescending.

"Nuh — Not too attached," He assures, like it's a pertinent information BP is entitled to, "I just think you're . . . neat." It's a lame sentiment that would make Birdperson laugh if he cared enough, but Rick's eyes widen with a certain manic determination suddenly. The purple light heightens it in a way BP is not enough of a poet to explain.

Abruptly, he reaches for Birdperson's closest wing, and Birdperson has to make a significant effort to not wave him off. "Like this? It's neat. You're a freakin' little bird-wing-man. Fucking cool. Fucking rad." He babbles, grip tight enough to make the 'little bird-wing-man' wince. "Fucking neat." Rick's eyes grow strangely glazed when he looks back up from BP's wings, strangely subdued in his next few words.

"I just think it's neat," Rick says, voice wobbly, "I just think. . . you're — "

"— Neat." Birdperson finishes evenly, roughly ripping Rick's arm off his wing. His patience had finally thinned into something razor sharp, that much was clear from the bewildered look Rick was sending him.

"I understand you are not in your right mind as of current, but you do not grab people like that." He admonishes as Rick rubs defensively at his arm, stopping only to instead massage his wrist. "Especially not my kind."

Rick's brows furrow at that. "Especially not your kind?"

"It's a private area. It's essentially the equivalent of me touching your balls."

"Holy shit," Rick blurts, "Fuck, I'm so sorry, man."

"It's alright, you weren't aware of the implications."

"Still, I — " Rick comically straightens with eyes as wide as dinner plates, looking more sober than Birdperson has ever seen him, "I just fucking fondled you in the middle of an overcrowded club."

". . . Yes, you did." He admits, after a deliberating silence.

"Tell you what," Rick says, swaying, "Any other shots you want? On me." He points to himself. "Seriously, order the expensive shit if you want. Go nuts. Make me suck your nuts — fucking whatever." He shrugs right as Birdperson's eyebrows narrow, almost imperceptibly.

"For your sake, I really hope that you were telling the truth when you said you didn't know what you were doing."

"What?" Rick sputters. "Of — Of fucking course! Jesus Christ! I'd never touch you like that on purpose if you didn't fucking want it. Jesus!"

The purple lights play on Rick's face, curving into every crack and narrow of his skin. Birdperson considers Rick's words, and then his own carefully, as he watches how the other man's long hair turns lavender in the light. Idly, he wonders if Rick has ever braided it, if he plays with it while in the midst of creating his newest inventions. He wonders how privileged one must be to know such things.

"I don't wish for you to ever touch me like that." He says, finally. "Why do you insist on bringing things of that nature up?"

"I know that!" Rick suddenly yelps, like a wounded animal. "Goddamn, I know that! And I don't! None of the shit I've brought up or done has been intentionally sexual." He hesitates. "Be — Besides the sucking nuts thing. That was a joke, though. But the touching thing — I didn't even mean that in a strictly sexual way either. I won't ever touch you if you don't want it."

Rick stares into the crowd as Birdperson studies him.

". . . Thank you." He says, and Rick flinches hard.

"Yeah, well — don't," Rick waves him off as he turns back to the crowd. "That's the bare minimum, Pers. Lemme know whenever you wanna cash in those shots."

BP watches as Rick starts to walk away, reaching into his vest, fiddling. He pulls a flask out, tilts his head back, and takes a long swig. Some who happen to witness it cheer loudly in support. Birdperson stays quiet. The purple light flickers like a flame, continuously lighting Rick lavender.

Somehow, inside him, deep in his bones, he knows Rick has drained his flask empty in record time. There's no doubt to that thought, and that is what makes Birdperson take a swig of his own glass.

It's the next day when the knowledge is set in stone to him. When Rick blinks owlishly up at him whenever he implies the conversation of last night. When he remembers how he quite literally had to carry Rick home by the time the night was over because he was too drunk. When Rick shrugs and says he doesn't remember, that he must have blacked out.

Rick Sanchez, the type of hurricane that sends towns into heaps, is happiest when he doesn't remember the things he destroys. When he forgets the hazard he can be.

When he forgets Birdperson stands in the middle of it all, watching, waiting for a conclusion that will never come.

Wings drawn to his back, he watches for the starts of a lull in wind pressure. A decrease in temperament. Someone needs to witness Rick — regardless of if his fate is bound to an unpleasant end or not. He won’t fly out of this one, he will merely wait until Rick is done.

And if his work is never done, it's never done, but Birdperson is starting to be.

———

the exploration of Rick and BP’s relationship in its earliest stages is just very fascinating to me. that is all. and I think the ‘unrequited love’ aspect of birdrick has a bit more layers than anticipated. like, divulging into BP’s thought-process and feelings towards Rick is a whole different and interesting ballpark compared to the jarring complexity and somehow also simplicity of Ricks own towards BP. but I don’t want to go off too much into a rant! so anyways! still got one more req left to go!!! which I promise won’t take another month to get to lol. i also hope I got Birdperson’s tone of voice right, since it’s my first time writing him. and young Rick too tbh. all I know atp is that their dynamic when they were younger was 100% funnier than most people think. Birdperson is just so straightforward, and Rick is just so patently…..not. i had so much fun with this fic’s location and dialogue! thank you for requesting this!!!!!

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #birdperson #birdrick #rick and morty fanfiction #writing requests #i hope you liked this!!!!!!#corvi writes

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envihellbender · 9 months

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Twink flirts with a huge fat older man he meets in a train station, lures him home and forcefeeds the not so secret glutton into higher echelons of obesity.

Characters: Corvi, Hector, Aidan (OCs)

Content: slurs/homophobia, extreme weight gain, forced feedism, kidnapping, medical experimentation

Corvi knew precisely what he would do with Hector the second he laid eyes on the man after he had heard his wheezing gravely tone. Had the man kept quiet, Corvi probably would have gone throughout his life never having noticed the man. The moment the first syllable left Hector’s mouth, he had sighed his fate. Corvi had just gotten an iced mocha from the Starbucks and was checking to see what platform his train back home was leaving from. He supposed he was dressed somewhat revealingly - black jean shorts that just about reached his finger tips, a loose Misfits t-shirt, and a pair of grubby old Vans trainers. He guessed he could see why it would warrant stares but it was the middle of August, it was 27 degrees Celsius outside. When he was bouncing on his heels in front of the man, probably unintentionally emphasising his behind, he heard the man behind him loudly proclaim to his friend:

“God, that’s not right, that bloke isn’t a fucking bloke any more,” he snarled. Corvi glanced over his shoulder, doing a double take when he saw the source. Not even the wheezing exhausted tone prepared him for the bloated mass behind him, with two large breasts resting on the handlebars of his special adapted mobility scooter and his food piled on top of them. His gut was taking up so much space there was a large platfform before the front wheel to stop it from dragging along the ground. He noticed Corvi’s shocked stare and his slug-like lips smirked proudly. “What you looking at faggot? Wanna know what a real man looks like?”

“Well, big talk for the fattest pig at the county fair,” Corvi said simply with a shrug. Hector spluttered in response, covering his stack of burgers in saliva.

“Back in my day we beat fags like you half to death and then raped them until they were corpses.” His tone had become a growl in anger as his cheeks grew red merging into his lightening ginger hair that was barely visible from his receding hairline and his fat forehead.

“That sounds pretty faggy to me,” Corvi sighed, getting out his phone slyly. “You know if you really do want this arse of mine you keep staring at I might not say no. Lucky for you I like big guys.” He pretended to be typing a text message and took a selfie with Hector in the background. He clicked on it and sent the photo to his contact labelled “Aidan” with a green heart after it. He added the message ‘how does this one look?’

***

Corvi was sat on one of Aidan’s medical tables swinging his legs when Hector began groaning and spluttering, his massive shapeless arms pulling against his restraints as his piggish brown eyes began to struggle to open. Aidan didn’t say anything, just smirked and turned to the machine that controlled all of Hector’s new tubes. Corvi jumped onto his feet and grinned, a wide toothy smile that showed his snagged tooth, his catlike green eyes narrowed as his bleach blond hair fell in his face.

“Hey, Mister, remember me? The fag you were gonna beat to death?” Corvi taunted, as he did he heard a clatter come from Aidan whose hazel eyes flickered towards Corvi in protective panic. He’d neglected to mention that bit.

“Wha- what the fuck are you-” Hector said almost unintelligibly from behind the oxygen mask and the feeding tube that had been shoved into his nose and mouth respectively.

“Aide, babe, can you please-” Before Corvi finished there was a beep followed by a churning noise as a thick yellow liquid began flowing through the tube and into Hector’s throat. He tried to resist the lard from going into his mouth, causing it to drip on his lips and pool in his neck roll. The lard kept going however, covering the lower half of his face and his mask until he had no choice to swallow it. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard? Resisting isn’t gonna get you anywhere, piggy. Just gonna mean you’re going to hurt yourself.” Hector groaned and struggled, choking and causing his face to burn red until Aidan finally turned his feed off for a few moments.

“What the hell are you doing? Where am I?” Hector gasped, his stomach groaning in protest. Corvi giggled in response, it seemed the appetite stimulants were working already. Hector groaned and frowned, it seemed he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“In my basement- well, our basement. Me and my fag boyfriend liked the look of you so, we kept you.”

“How- how did you- why-”

“Why? I told you. You’re the fattest pig at the county fair, remember? I love a good animal, especially a champion, and I’m going to make you bigger,” Corvi declared slapping Hector’s belly. Aidan let out a quiet laugh as Corvi began poking at Hector’s fat, watching it ripple and wobble, giggling as it made their patient snarl and make snide, horrific comments as if there was anything he could do but grow.

#envi writes #weight gain kink #extreme weight gain #forced weight gain #oc corvi #oc Aidan #oc Hector

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corvidares · 4 months

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has no one talked about how much of a theme disability is in any way the wind blows or do i need to write this essay

#HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME #im gonna do it im gonna write it #awtwb #carry on #simon snow trilogy #corvi caws

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kentuckywrites · 2 years

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Imperium 3: Chapter 6

Redi ad me. (Come back to me.)

Starr immediately began running back to the others, parts of the above stalactites beginning to crumble and fall around him from the impact. Some of the pebbles bounced off of his breastplate and head, but none were big enough to hurt him.

Everyone was waking up in the other room, with Elma being the most alert of the group. Her dual guns were in her hands, armed and ready for whatever came next. Starr stopped in front of her, explaining quickly.

“We need to go. We know what must be done to stop Corvhesperikon, but we need to get Vanala out of here first.”

“Friend found way to beat Corvie?” Sprinkle Sprinkle questioned, his mother now wide awake beside him. “W-Wait, what about friend Lumi?? Can’t leave her here!!”

Lumina smiled at this, surprised that anyone had taken to her wellbeing in the midst of the shaking cavern walls, the debris falling from the ceiling. “G-Go. I’ll be f-f-fine here, for n-now.”

The entire team looked between each other, eyes wide with pity, with remorse. Starr clenched his jaw, knowing that she was right, they couldn’t afford to waste any time here. If she had lived in his cavern for so long without the ability to move, then the reasonable thing to do would be to get out of this cavern, get out and draw Corvhesperikon away from her. And then…

“We made the promise before, and we promise you again: we will return for you,” Starr swore, quickly kneeling down and taking Lumina’s hand within his own. Her fingers slid between his, cold metallic joints that shimmered with the faintest golden light. “One way or another, we will come back, and we will find a way to heal you.”

Lumina sniffled, touched by his words, his sentiment. “I kn-know you will. Good luck…b-both of you.”

Both of you.

Starr’s shoulders relaxed. Mere hours before, he would’ve been confused, hurt, angry - but now there was nothing. Nothing but the overwhelming feeling of knowing that he couldn’t run from who he was. The Disgrace could run as much as he wanted, he could cower behind this façade and never speak again for fear that he would destroy more than he’d repair -

“Starr!”

He quickly turned around as Elma called his name, a slight bounce to her step as the ground shook once more and her anxieties became more visible. Starr squeezed Lumina’s hand once last time before letting go, hesitant, taking in her image one last time before joining the others. He scooped up Sprinkle Sprinkle as they all began to make their way out of the cavern, through another passage veering to the right of Lumina’s spot. More roars pierced through the mountain, deafening and rattling the stonework that created the cavern system. More stalactites tumbled to the ground around them; Elma sidestepped to avoid a large one as they ran through the darkness, illuminated by Vanala’s small flame.

It was nearly impossible to see the exit to the cavern once they reached it. The night had consumed the outer world, a dark void that no stars dared to alter. It was only the snow that indicated the transition, the white that counteracted the darkness from the ground up. The second that the snow crunched below Starr’s boot, Corvhesperikon screeched again, much closer than before. Everyone continued to run forward, with Elma holding her guns tightly, Vanala keeping her fire ether at the ready in her wings. With Sprinkle Sprinkle still in his arms, Starr wasn’t able to bring up either of his ether weapons, but he was afforded the chance - the risk - to look behind him. Sure enough, Corvhesperikon grasped the side of the mountain, neck outstretched to the sky and rocks crumbling under its uneven claws. Its wings stretched out to their fullest extent, far larger than the mountain it deigned to perch upon, and it shook its head rapidly as if it was trying to knock something off of its skull. At the same time Starr realized what the little figure on its head was, Sprinkle Sprinkle called out, “Dadapon!!”

Sure enough, Froyoyo was still in the midst of battling the fearsome feathered monstrosity, brandishing his broadsword above his head. The blade was coated in Corvhesperikon’s blood, inky black and dripping onto Froyoyo’s patterned white fur. He kept slicing and hacking at the yggralith with everything he had, and reassured that he’d buy them some more time to run, Starr picked up his pace. Starr thought this would be enough to keep the beast distracted while they made their escape, but like a moth to a flame, Corvhesperikon turned its attention to the group below. Beady eyes trained on Starr and Sprinkle Sprinkle, and despite his best efforts, Froyoyo was incapable of keeping it away. The yggralith screeched, its wings extending into the night, and as it dived from the top of the mountain, Froyoyo tumbled off, hitting the side of the cliff on his descent. The impact looked painful; it was like Starr could feel the rocks digging into his skin, drawing blood and ire from each blow.

Starr surged ahead, realizing he’d been watching far too long. He couldn’t outrun Corvhesperikon and he’d be a fool to believe he could. But as the ground shook, as Corvhesperikon landed and charged after him, Starr sensed an incoming attack and dove into a somersault, narrowly avoiding Corvhesperikon’s claws while keeping Sprinkle Sprinkle out of harm’s way. He kept running, kept Vanala and Elma in his line of sight. Elma checked on Starr with a quick glance over her shoulder. She must’ve sensed his fear, or created some of her own, for moments later her steps began to leave a trail behind them. They were so hard to see, shadows amongst a shadowed world, but the Disgrace lent his knowledge to Starr. Ghost Factory. A decoy Art generated from dual guns, applicable to the self and every party member within a certain radius.

Starr watched as copies of him danced around his person, mimicking his appearance, his movements, his fear. Corvhesperikon screamed, attempting to grab Starr and knocking a row of clones out of existence. Just because he was under the effects of the decoy didn’t mean he was guaranteed safety. His legs burned, stumbling through uneven patches of snow, only barely scraping the true surface of Cocytios hidden beneath. He forced himself to keep his head forward, don’t look behind him, don’t look -

Wait, what was that, in front of them?

The white expanse of snow turned into pure darkness, the ground falling away into an endless pit. It was still far enough away that he didn’t have to be concerned about falling in, but…

But that was where the Disgrace died. Where Starr - the monster, the feared, the terrified and uncontrolled - was killed.

That little discovery, that moment of hesitation that followed, was enough for Corvhesperikon to swipe Starr from behind and knock him out of his path. He tumbled for a considerable distance, and he felt Sprinkle Sprinkle leave his grip despite his best efforts to hold on. The littlepon yelped, and Starr lost track of them, landing face first into the snow. His mask pressed up against his face at an awkward angle before it flew off, one of the teeth grazing his forehead. A moment of panic, needing to hide behind something so his face was obscured, and he was back on his feet, frantically looking for his mask’s signature blue and purple horns. Right when he saw the colored tinge in the snow, another screech emanated from the beast, and Starr didn’t have time to dodge yet another swipe from its massive talons. They tore clean through his cape this time, drawing blood along his back as he landed once more in the snow. This time, he was fortunate enough - unfortunate, maybe - to land on his back, facing Corvhesperikon head on. And even worse, a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Sprinkle Sprinkle, running towards Starr.

Thankfully he didn’t have to be concerned about Sprinkle Sprinkle’s interference for very long, because Vanala swooped in and scooped the littlepon up in her wings. She flew into the air, her wind ether carrying her up and away. Corvhesperikon was distracted, the short reprieve giving Starr enough time to stand up, to brace himself, to produce his water ether weapons. Two swords this time - the need for a shield would come, but in advantageous moment, the offensive strategy was the right call in his eyes.

He sprinted forward, climbing onto one of Corvhesperikon’s massive talons and plunging his blades directly into its leg. Corvhesperikon screamed, shaking its leg to try and throw Starr off. But he kept his blades firmly lodged into the blackened skin, the water ether connected to his gauntlets and ensuring he stayed put. A blast of wind ether drew its attention once more, and Vanala appeared, minus Sprinkle Sprinkle. He assumed that they’d been deposited with Elma, or at least taken somewhere safe and away from the chaos.

Vanala’s wings extended, the veins in her gloves glowing a bright green. “Come and fight, coward Corvie! Vanala refuse to run while Corvie hurt friends!”

The yggralith stared her down, but then it laughed, something hideous and sinister that made Starr feel sick to his stomach. “YOU THINK YOU STAND A CHANCE AGAINST ME?? PATHETIC LITTLE CREATURE, SO SMALL, SO FRAIL????”

“Vanala not small!!” She shouted, launching another torrent of wind ether directly into Corvhesperikon’s face. Starr grimaced, realizing it didn’t leave nearly as much of an impact as it had before. Corvhesperikon bared its teeth at Vanala, mimicking a smile with its beak.

“SMALLER THAN FIRST ENCOUNTER,” Corvhesperikon said, “TOO SMALL TO TARGET NOW.”

That made Starr freeze. He’d heard Corvhesperikon calling out, telling the “little godling” to stop, to give up. Though he’d never vocalized it, he’d always assumed that the yggralith was targeting Vanala, just as it had all those years ago. The confession made Vanala’s eyes widen, mixed with her scowl of abject confusion.

“Corvie too scared to fight Vanala, then?”

Somehow, Corvhesperikon’s smile grew wider.

“NOT SCARED. PRIORITIZING.”

And then, its large neck swiveled, positioning its head so that its smile, its teeth, its vicious gaze were pointed straight at Starr. All at once, Starr understood.

“WE TOLD YOU TO SLEEP, LITTLE GODLING.”

Oh no.

Corvhesperikon raised its leg, carrying Starr closer, closer. The distance was so short that Starr made the quick decision to jump off, which proved insightful when Corhesperikon attempted to bite him from his former position on his leg. He landed on the yggralith’s upper arm, his ether swords digging into the feathered flesh with little grace. He had to dislodge himself again as Corvhesperikon attempted the same maneuver, biting at him and coming up short. Now he was gaining ground, close to surpassing Corvhesperikon’s arm and climbing up onto its back. Though its neck was long, it wasn’t long enough to reach Starr at this point, and he silently thanked whatever entities had granted him such luck.

He must’ve jinxed it somehow, or the gods above that had bestowed such kindness decided that enough was enough, because mere moments later Corvhesperikon took to the skies, a feat that Starr didn’t think it could complete as fast as it did. The ground grew further and further away, Vanala chasing the yggralith up into the night sky. Starr felt the wind beating against his back, practically pushing him into Corvhesperikon’s matted feather hide. Frozen, clinging for dear life, he couldn’t hear anything beyond the wind. He attempted to look up, locate Vanala in the ascent. She was still blasting ether attacks at Corvhesperikon’s face, enormous boulders this time in lieu of the wind ether from before, but still the yggralith was unfazed.

And then, Corvhesperikon ducked its head towards its stomach, its body following in circular fashion. No amount of strength could have saved Starr, not against the force that ejected him from its hide. Starr plummeted back down to Cocytios, tumbling and turning in the air with no certain grace. Too late he tried to concentrate his water ether to create some form of appropriate landing, perhaps a slide that could catch his fall. Too late, and his back slammed into the snow, his body bouncing from landing point to landing point until he slid ungracefully into his final resting place. The Disgrace sent a wave of emotion through the pain, a hint of familiarity at the event, a memory from a mission gone wrong in Oblivia. That had cost him an arm. Starr wished he’d been granted the mercy of a clean source of pain, but it was everywhere, radiating through his very being and pulsing with every second through his veins. He took a second to feel it, let it become him - nothing was broken. He could feel the pain, he could feel it, and that in itself was a blessing and a curse.

Starr tried to push himself back up, biting his tongue and biting back the pain. It shot through his spine like lightning, an electrical current on the verge of short circuiting the entire machine. He could only afford to crawl forward, away, away -

Cocytios’s white snow gave way to a deep and dark abyss.

Starr had landed mere feet away from where The Disgrace had died. Where, in a sense, he’d been born.

He stared into the darkness. It would be poetic to say it stared back at him, but no, to characterize the void was to give it power over him. And yet, that was exactly the vice it had over him; it knew his past and it knew it had a vice-like grip over his conscience. It would’ve laughed at him, if it had been given a voice to laugh with, but it could only use the impending wind to mock Starr and his untamed thoughts.

Gun fire rang out from behind him, and with considerable effort Starr positioned himself so that his back was facing the pit. Corvhesperikon was returning to the continent’s surface, though it hadn’t landed. Elma fired every round in her dual guns at the beast, bullets piercing through its neck and body. She tossed both guns aside when they’d run out of ammo and exchanged them for her dual swords, charging Corvhesperikon’s leg just as it landed in the snow. Vanala swung around from the side, now shooting bolts of charged lightning ether from her wings while keeping herself afloat with her wind ether. Starr’s eyes widened when he spotted a third figure coming from behind Corvhesperikon, greatsword swinging up towards its tail. It was hard to make out Froyoyo’s condition from so far away, but judging by his enthusiasm in attacking the yggralith, he had more than enough fight left in him.

It was a shame that practically none of their attacks did any lasting damage on Corvhesperikon, who was still trained on Starr. It roared, a menacing and spine-tingling thing. It raised its front leg, about to clear the distance between itself and Starr in one massive stride, but then, another burst of wind ether blew against its skull. It wasn’t nearly as powerful as Vanala’s had been, and considering she was still using her lightning ether…

FUCK!

“Get away from friend Starr!!” Sprinkle Sprinkle shouted, their voice so little and weak in comparison to the mighty yggralith’s. Corvhesperikon bent its head down, its neck twisting to its right and meeting the furious gaze of the littlepon still on the ground. Sprinkle Sprinkle’s wings were balled up into fists, glowing wind swirling around their form. Fuck, they looked so tiny paired up against Corvhesperikon, there was no way in hell they’d survive an attack, there was no way they’d live to see another day and Starr was fucking helpless to stop it from happening, so fucking useless and pathetic and gods above why the fuck couldn’t he get up -

Mira spoke quickly, urgently.

Starr. Behind you.

“What is it?”

If you fall into the pit, we can enact the plan.

“We will die if we fall down there?” Starr swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look behind him. He did, however, bring himself up and onto his knees, kneeling in the fallen snow. Was that his blood, staining the white below him? Was it his shadow, his impending doom, the destiny he couldn’t escape? His hair, fraying out of his braid, clung to his cheeks and to his breastplate, begging him to reconsider. Starr gasped against another wave of pain originating from his chest.

Yes. That is how Nessa killed Pongo, after he…

It all made sense again. Mira had begged Nessa to send him into the pit, to reunite him with it so it could begin the process of recreating and restoring his body - a body he gave up to Starr in a moment of incomprehensible sorrow and rage. Starr couldn’t help the tears streaming down his face now. Fate was a funny thing, though it didn’t deserve characterization either. This was what he had agreed to do, and this was the path he would continue down.

“Corvhesperikon!” Starr used the last of his strength to call out to the yggralith, whose face was getting too close to Sprinkle Sprinkle for comfort. Its disgusting maw had opened wide, drool pouring out from between its sharpened teeth. Sprinkle Sprinkle hadn’t moved an inch, waiting for it to get closer. Both turned to look at Starr when he yelled. Every noise, every crackle of lightning ether and every slice into Corvhesperikon’s body, all of it became muted and soft.

“Goodbye,” He said softly into the night.

He closed his eyes, and he let gravity claim him. One last wave of pain, and he fell backwards into the abyss. Corvhesperikon screamed, the ground shaking as he flew in after Starr. Froyoyo nearly took the dive with it, but at the last second he jumped off and landed on the cliff, only able to watch as both descended into the darkness.

Starr asked a silent question before every sound dimmed into silence, before every feeling dimmed into numbness.

Did I make you proud?

Neither the planet nor The Disgrace responded.

#xenoblade x #Imperium 3: Chapter 6 #yeah so I hate writing fight scenes #i'm so sorry this chapter is a little short but #god chapters 7 and 8 are gonna be a doozy #and yes I made myself cry again #also fun fact: froyoyo was originally supposed to go down in the pit with Corvie and Starr #last second I decided it wouldn't work so #be happy that the heropon won't suffer lmao

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b-00-biez · 1 year

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Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe write something along the lines of "slashers with an s/o who thinks they're not enough for them and starts distancing themselves" maybe not that long but something of the sort :) this is my first ever ask so I do apologise if I can't quite get my thought across. :)

Slasher with an S/o that distance themselves

Characters: Bo Sinclair, Patrick Bateman, Brahms heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Ghostface

Bo Sinclair

You were staring at the mirror too long looking at your body

pinching your imperfections and flaws

This has been going on for some time now and bo doesnt really realize it

You locked yourself in the shared room, refused sex and even slightly avoided him when hes around

He was pissed

"Sweetheart come here we need to talk."

With a stern voice he sits you on his lap and embraces you

He asks you what's going on in your lil mind and why have you been avoiding him for the past weeks

You started to tear up and tremble as you tell him you're not good enough for him, that you always mess up and you're not like the girls in his magazines ( yeah i believe he has a stash of magazines hidden like a perv 😭)

He coos at you hugging you tighter as he rocks you on his lap

"Darling, you're all what this big pervert needs, now give me some sugar"

He kissed your cheek lovingly nothing like youd expect from this sly man

Patrick Bateman

This man has girls all over him , flirting with him cause he is absolutely handsome

Although he completely ignores them

You started to feel

insecure

All the girls were hot and corvy and youre you

Well thats what you thought, after a few months you started to distance yourself hoping that maybe he would find someone "better"

One night you wake up to your door ringing nonstop and when you check the peep hole you see your boyfriend standing there with 100 roses, neatly in a bouquet as he was dressed nicely

You opened your door slowly just putting your face out, he noticed you crying cause of your swollen eyelids.

He handed you the flowers and held you which felt like it lasted an hour

"Darling I know you aren't feeling well and I'd like to take you on a little date to show how much i truly love you. Will you accept it?"

He kissed your hand while grabbing gently at your waist

Brahms Heelshire

All he talked about was Greta and how she looked pretty unlike any other

And even after you were in a relationship with him you felt... ignored

You wanted to scream at him how youre here and that shes gone

but instead you neglected your duties as a nanny and locked yourself in your room for more than 3 days

Although you feel eyes watching you through the walls, you didnt care to budge

Until he kicked the door open.

He was tired of you neglecting him as he stared at you in anger

His eyes softened seeing you balled up in your bed sniffling and whimpering

First he thought you were sick as he checked whether you were hurt or not

But when you couldnt stop crying he left leaving you some space then he came back

with a little toy he cherished as a boy

"I'm sorry, I hope you feel better. Heres my toy maybe youll feel better holding it. It worked when i was sad" he said in his childish voice

He gently caressed your head as he repeatedly said in a warm voice "I love you"

Thomas Hewitt

Hoyt made you feel like a piece of shit

Every night and day he would remind you that you were easily replaceable and you're just like a little pet that even if you die. Thomas will find someone else

That was far from what you experienced with Thomas when he holds you gently in his arms something he wouldn't do with any other victim

But nevertheless Hoyt's bullying got the best of you

Even doing chores and even at dinner youd avoid thomas, as you said youd be eating somewhere else or you werent hungry

Hoyt was snickering and scoffing at your petty behavior as he exclaimed to Thomas that he should kill you for not being "family"

Before Thomas could break his brittle neck you stopped him with shaky hands on his shoulder

You marched back up to your shared bedroom and sulk

He would pick up on this newly found behavior as he confronts you when everyone else was asleep

Once you tell hime how you felt he caressed your cheeks looking at you with sad eyes then cuddles you in bed trying his best to comfort you.

Ghostface

He was getting way too close to a girl

Although in his part he was just befriending her to kill her sooner

But thats before you knew your boyfriend's little hobby of his

You would ignore him at school, lunch even ghosting him in text and when he would go to your house you would just lock the door and tell your parents that you werent in the mood to talk to him

One afternoon when your parents were away you were watching the news

The girl he was with was killed that night

Afraid of who might it be thinking it must be someone at your school

You hear the doorbell rang

Seeing a guy in a mask you felt shivers down your spine as you answered the door you heard a familiar voice

"Hey baby, I felt you were a bit jealous so i killed her sooner. So don't be mad at me hm? My eyes and attention are only for you babe."

As he slowly gave you the dead girl's hand and slipped her ring onto yours

#slasher fucker #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher headcanons #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x you #thomas hewitt #bo sinclair #brahms heelshire #house of wax #ghostface x you #ghostface #patrick bateman #scream #thomas hewitt headcanon

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thelittlehorrorshite · 3 months

Text

We should have done this ages ago

Hello, people!

We are The Iris System, named after the Greek goddess of the rainbow because our "original" alters are all named after colors (and also because we are totally obsessed with Percy Jackson)

We have two side blogs for different reasons:

@sawthehorrorlover for a book we're writing(our motivation is no so I thought that making a thing for it would increase it)

The other one I don't know what it's called off the top of my head, but it's a blog one of our other alters made because they could

Moots

These are our mutuals, please go check them out :)

@thenightsystem

@littlest-bugz

@poisoned-sugar11

I'm sure we have more, these are who I can remember

If I forgot to add you please tell me so that I can put you in here

DNI and more under the cut

DNI

Don't interact if:

You're a Terf, homophobic, transphobic, very mean to small children, hate cats, trump supporter (might add more in the future)

We are sys-course neutral, but endo safe so have a good time with the shiteposts I made 👍

Alters who are on here often/just kinda want a handle

The host(They/xie/it) - 🍁👾

Corvis(they/them) - 🐦‍⬛

Hailey(he/him) - 🤎🙏

Violet(she/her) - 💜

Henry/Bendy(he/him) - 🌑 (he's a fictive based on BATIM)

There are way more but these are the ones that I remember off the top of my head

Vermouth - 🍾🥃

Lucifer - 🕳️🔥

Userboxes we found

These describe us very well, and are from a Endo friendly source (check out @critter-stuff for more, it's where we got them from)

That's all for now! Have a good day/night :3

#intro post #introduction #blog intro

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luminalightsverse · 1 year

Text

Join our Star Wars RP group or something

Decided to do a new rp list and joining invitation because our group got way bigger and I thought it would be smart to also tag the accounts if someone wants to write with a character but don't really want to join a group. Our group mainly plays while TCW and TBB.

Canon characters:

Obi-Wan Kenobi: @masterobi1kenobi

Anakin Skywalker: @jedimasterskyguy

Ahsoka Tano: @commandersnippy (young), @areyouhappychild (older)

Plo Koon: @104th-plo-koon

Rex: @captain-tyrannosaurus

Cody: @its-cody-not-kote, @cody-2224

Pong Krell: @general-krell

Sheev Palpatine/Darth Sidious: @emperor-sheev-palpatine

Hunter: @sergeantbandana

Omega: @lil-mega

Wrecker: @wrecker-and-lula

Tech: @seldom-wrong

Crosshair: @help-from-above-ct-9904

Echo: @theechoinhere

Cid: @cidsparlor

AZI: @your-assigned-medical-droid

Fives: @guess-whos-back-fives

Boba Fett: @lucky-boba-fett (Young)

Rampart: @vice-admiral-rampart

Jango Fett: @fett-the-original-jango

Darth Vader: @thistechnologicalterror (redeemed)

General Grievous: @eldritchsnap

Ocs:

Theodosia Skywalker: @there-is-another-skywalker

Striker: @striker-reckoning

Valeria Beroya: @jedi-mom

Lor Beroya: @commander-buir-cc-3773

Solon Beroya: @sol-ika-beroya

Slip: @ct3113official

Yennes: @stop-calling-me-bluey

Calico: @little-wolffepup

Oona Leto: @chibi-gremlin

Thrasher: @a-soldier-named-thrasher

Caym: @odd-caym-out

Triko Vale: @kyberkeeper

Avem Springs: @avem-springs

Tama Ryhn: @tama-llama

Ger Springs: @ger-springs

Suu Tei: @darth-sathanas

Nina Anansi: @nina-anansi

Aldea Montifique: eldritchsnap

Multimuse (Canon)

Wolffe, Sinker, Boost, Comet (+ Oc's Corvis and Seal): @thewolfpackrules

Multimuse (Oc)

Sasha Oxlade, Blair Celtus, Baer, Digitalis: @fandoms-o-plenty

Shiv, Paws, Mesh, Flack etc.: @toebeansandotherbaes

Clone Force 87: @clone-force-87

Rebels

Sabine Wren: @themandalorianartist

Alexsandr Kallus: @askalexsandrkallus

Kanan Jarrus: @kananjarrusjediknight

Ezra Bridger: @lothal-cat-jedi

Chopper: @chopper-the-metal-menace

#star wars rp #star wars roleplay #sw rp #sw roleplay #the clone wars rp #tcw rp #the bad batch rp #tbb rp #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars the bad batch #sw #tcw #tbb #star wars rebels #sw rebels #star wars rebels roleplay

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corvi-dae · 1 year

Text

Pushin’ It

Laxus x AFAB!reader

Summary: You and Laxus are training when your period starts to hate you at a bad time.

Warnings: mentions of period cramping and hormones, no pronouns used, training, crying

A/N: should i make a pt 2?

Once again, you were knocked off your feet and onto the ground. The lightning dragon slayer stood over you with a smirk.

“You seem distracted today. What’s wrong?” He offered his hand. You glared at it, but still took it as he easily pulled you to your feet.

“It’s nothing.” You weren’t going to tell him you were on your period and having god-awful cramps, because then, he wouldn’t want to train with you anymore. It bothered you, feeling weak compared to him, especially during times like this.

He only sighed. “Let’s take a break.”

“I’m fine, Laxus-”

“Who said the break was for you?” he interrupted.

You scoffed. “You need a break? Yeah, right.”

He rolled his eyes, sitting down against a nearby tree.

You sat beside him. He offered you some water and you gladly took it.

“So, are you gonna tell me or what?”

You sighed. “I’m. Fine.”

“And I have neon pink hair.”

You glared at him once more before smirking. “It’d suit you.”

He scoffed.

After a moment of silence passed, you stood up. “C’mon.” You grabbed his hand to pull him up, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I think I’m done for the day.”

“Laxus, I told you. I’m fi- argh-” You doubled over in pain as a particular sharpness stabbed in your lower abdomen.

“(Name)!” Laxus was quick to rush up to you, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you injured?!”

“No-” you managed out, “I’m on my period.”

Realization hit his features as irritation built up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t train with me if you knew,” you sighed.

“And why does that matter?” His voice was stern.

“Because, Laxus, I want to be strong.” You were growing as impatient with him as he was with you.

“What?”

“I don’t want to hold you back during jobs. I want you to think I’m strong.” You frowned, feeling tears sting at your eyes. Those damned hormones…

“You are strong. But strength also comes from knowing when to stop.” He took your chin between his finger and thumb and tilted your head to look at him.

You blushed. “You’re just saying that.”

“Perhaps.” He smirked and you puffed out your cheeks. “I’ll…” he sighed, “I’ll pamper you if you agree to rest.” He looked away, eyebrows furrowing as his cheeks dusted a light pink color. He never wanted to admit to being soft, but when it came to you..?

You slowly smirked. “Chocolate?” He nodded. “Bubble bath?” He nodded. “Face masks?”

“You’re pushin’ it.”

You laughed.

He kissed you on the forehead before the two of you headed home, hand in hand.

#laxus comfort #laxus fluff #laxus dreyar x reader #fairy tail laxus #laxus x reader #laxus dreyar #laxus #ft laxus #fairy tail x reader #ft x reader #fairy tail #fairy tail comfort #fairy tail fluff #fluff #comfort #x reader #corvi-writes

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reposhillo · 1 year

Text

Because once again I find writing little snippets and scenarios of my Davy Jones and Lucemond au is much easier than trying to plan a whole cohesive ass fic so here we have a few tidbits I wanted to indulge myself in. Title of the snippets will probably be the title for the actual chapters if I ever get around to writing the whole thing...

So yeah, part one out of I don’t know how many snippets I’ll post, but just to keep this idea alive long enough for me to actually write it.

Au: Lord of the Abyssal Tides

Reunion

Lucerys finds himself frozen as Blackwell and Corvis drag Aemond further along the deck, each of his arms lodged between a pincer and a tentacle respectively as they haul their ‘catch’ towards Lucerys himself. He finds his breath stolen away as an amethyst colored eye snaps towards his face, and Lucerys cannot pinpoint the exact emotion hidden within the singular gaze. Madness...perhaps hatred still for finding Lucerys alive. Perhaps he had heard the rumors and sailed Vhagar to hunt down The Dutchman and finish off Lucerys for good. Perhaps-

“Ahhh...and what’s this we have dragged on board me ship lads?” A voice drawls from behind Lucerys, and soon he finds the familiar sensation of waterlogged and chilled fingertips card through the back of his curls, followed by the suction pads of the tentacle that made up of the owner’s pointer finger sling through his hair and curl over his neck. Lucerys shouldn’t find the touch as grounding and comforting as he did, but nonetheless his rigid posture softened just a bit. He chanced a glance upwards, but Davy seemed much more interested in the drenched silver haired prince his crew had drug onboard.

“I believe Captain Jones-” Aemond surprisingly pipes up, spitting out the title like it was a foul tasting word to grace his lips, and Lucerys can feel Davy’s signature twitches as he’s addressed. “That you are in possession of something that belong to me. And I intend to have it back.”

“Oh~ Do you now, lad? Are you perhaps this ‘one-eyed’ maddened beast I’ve heard so many whispers from the dead and dying about? The one who sent this pup to me in the first place?” Davy quips, tugging at Luke’s curls sharply before releasing his hair and stomping his crab leg to make an audible thump among the warped wooden boards below him as he stalked towards Aemond.

Reunion (Part Two)

Lucerys can feel Aemond’s stare like a physical touch upon his pale body, and he has to fight the urge to hide himself away from Aemond seeing what has become of him. He knows his uncle’s eye is glued to the the few gills that are split along the sides of his neck, along with the starfish that has stubbornly embedded itself on his chest, right where his heart still beat. All in all, not too dramatic or gut wrenching changes that most of the other crew members have endured, but still different.

Changed.

“Please...” He croaks, unable to meet Aemond’s gaze. “Don’t stare. I...I know I’ve become a monst-”

“No.” Aemond’s voice sharply cuts through Luke’s plea, and it’s his tone that finally gives Luke the bravery to tilt his head to look at his uncle. “You are not. I know what monsters are Lucerys, and I would not count you among them.”

Lullaby of the Sea

“You...” Luke swallows the thick spit that has gathered in his mouth, fully sitting himself upright to watch as one of Davy’s tentacles wraps itself along the locket still playing that immersing tune. “You loved her, then?”

Luke feels his blood run cold as Davy’s gaze snaps to him, whatever fondness and warmth their conversation may have mustered up vanishing in an instant, crushing itself among the waves of Davy’s unforgiving gaze. “Love-” He hisses “Is a wretched bond. All it serves is to bind men to madness and a lifetime of regrets. I do not love her.” Davy snaps the locket close, cutting the tune off and then the Captain slams it down onto the keys of the organ.

“I-I’m sorry!” Is the only thing Luke can stammer out, flinching at the harsh sound as he shrinks down onto the damp cot that was dragged into the corner of Davy’s cabin for him. He doesn’t know what else he can do, or say to spare himself from Davy’s ire. He can hear the Captain drag himself out of the bench he was say, his crab leg making thuds against the floor as he stomped along. Luke closes his eyes, not wanting to see that chilling gaze up close as his punishment was delivered...

Only to be left to his own as Davy trudged past him, swinging his door wildly open and then slamming it with such force that sound rumbled throughout the ship.

Luke wills his heart to stop hammering away painfully in his chest, releasing out shaky exhales as he realizes he’s not being dragged out for another set of lashes. The fear and relief intertwine in a mixture that has Luke slumping down along the cot, curling himself up as tightly and small as he could to try and sap some warmth into his flesh.

He was fine.

He would be okay.

He could get through this.

Luke’s eyes fluttered rapidly, exhaustion easily causing him to succumb to slumber. Right before his world turned dark as the inky bottoms of the abyss, Luke though he heard Arrax’s trill carry through the ship.

Luke barely manages to stir awake due to two very different things. One of which, a heavy and thick long coat had been laid over his person, the article of clothing easily engulfing him and also damp (as was everything on this ship, be it damp, soaked, drenched or water logged.) However, it had managed to help seep some warmth into his body.

Second thing Luke’s groggy mind managed to pick up on, was that the locket was once more playing that lullaby.

#Lucemond #lucerys valeryon #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #Davy jones potc #Davy Jones #Lucemond Au: Lord of the Abyssal Tides #(You think I won't make Davy Jones one of Luke's many father figures?)

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italiangothicwriteblr · 8 months

Note

Happy Tiny Scene Sunday!

Fire, Blood & Bones

@bloodlessheirbyjacques >:3

Hey! Thanks for the prompt!

This is set some point during Book 2--it's one of the magic reveal ideas I've been toying with

TW for gore

It had all come crashing down.

Nova was ashamed at herself, how she was reacting. She could run, retreat back into the woods until everyone at court forgot her name, yet she was slumped on her bed, wailing like the world was ending.

Her world was, anyway.

She could only imagine how disappointed Adrasteia would be when she heard how Nova had shattered their precarious peace. The king had been on the receiving end of an assassin's curse, pronounced certain to die. She couldn't watch the man who had shown her so much kindness perish like that, not when she could save him.

She revealed her magic. Resigned herself to her fate as Livia watched her whisper the incantation that mended Enrico's bones, lifted the enchantment he was under. Livia's relief at her uncle's recover was completely dwarfed by her shock at Nova's revelation.

As it ought to be. Nova always knew the day Livia learned the truth would be her last.

She knew it was pathetic to whimper and beg, but she wondered if their previous bond could convince Livia not to use the pyre.

The door to her chamber opened, and Nova couldn't even bring herself to stand up.

"I heard," Adrasteia said as she stepped inside.

Nova couldn't meet her eye. Someone who had done so much for her, worked so hard, and she had disappointed her.

But there was only care in her friend's eyes as she wrapped her arms around Nova.

"You did what you needed to do. You saved a life. There's no world in which you would do anything different, and that's the reason we all work so hard for you."

Nova was sobbing into her shoulder.

"I don't know what's going to happen to me, but I need you to promise me something. Don't concern yourself with loyalty to me, when I'm gone. Say whatever you need to say, do whatever you need to do, but keep yourself safe. My memory is the least important thing."

"No!" Adrasteia's silver eyes were alight with anger. "Fuck that. I'm not selling you out for something as trivial as comfort!"

"I'll be dead!"

"You don't know that!" Angry tears were streaming down Adrasteia's face. "They may do nothing!"

It was a hollow reassurance, and they both knew it.

"Yes, I do." Nova whispered. "Fire."

She could smell the flames. She had dreamt of the stake before, many times, but that couldn't prepare her for the real thing.

"I'll do everything I can. Enrico will too! This isn't happening without a fight--"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Livia stood there, blood splattered across her white dress and weaved in her golden curls. Nova was so focused on how beautiful she looked, she almost missed what Livia was carrying.

In her fist, she gripped the severed head of Nero Trapani. His evil eyes now unseeing, usually perfect hair now messed.

"I brought you something." Livia looked at Nova. Nova would never get used to the warm, heady feeling that came with being on the receiving end of all of Livia's passion and determination.

"What..." Nova stammered.

"You didn't feel safe telling me the truth, clearly. I wanted to rectify that. Nero and his faction threaten your safety, so I handled him."

Maybe Nova should have been horrified, but all she felt was a rush of love and appreciation as she dove into Livia's arms to kiss her, not caring as Nero's blood got all over them both.

#wip: the traitor's heir #ch: novellia de rege #my writing #ch: livia corvi #novellia x livia

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twocorvids · 2 years

Note

OKAY SO- don't feel pressured to write this or anything, but i wanted to send you a request about a fic since you're trying to get back into writing :)

so, in the comics there's this little scene where morty gets scared at night after an adventure and goes downstairs where rick is sitting on the couch watching tv. rick ends up offering to hang out with him on the couch all night and they fall asleep there together.

just cute, wholesome grandson-grandpa realness. ofc- feel free to adapt it however you want, haha.

maybe you could write something like that, but with our rick and morty? i think the idea is so cute lol.

okay so more notes or whatever will be after the actual fic/request lol. sorry if it’s too ooc or anything! (also this has to do with the latest ep hope u don’t mind!)

———

Rick Sanchez is a man of many extremes.

His anger is a hot, wiry thing. Brittle in the way that it will pierce whoever dares break it. Morty knows this intimately, both from watching the aftermath and being victim of it. He is also victim of his grandfather’s flickering joys, and his snowy lows, because Rick is the type to draw others into his vastness, his tide. But, Rick’s always brittle, always hallowed in a way pride can’t hide.

His grandpa is breakable in a way that breaks — shatters anything and everything else around it — Morty does not know how else to describe it. He is the man who will sharpen his own bone to a blade, if that’s what it takes.

And that is all the very reason why Morty stands by the doorway towards the kitchen, feeling more like a festering mold the longer he stays there. The longer he watches Rick flick through the channels with varying disinterest.

Even more so as he watches Rick’s head tilt back, eyes closed to slits as his brows furrow and he sighs gruffly.

“Morty,” Morty freezes. “The fuck are you doing?”

Morty gulps and stiffly grabs at the wooden doorway hard enough for his nails to hurt. “I — I dunno, I was just trying to figure out how you were feeling, I guess.”

Rick’s forehead creases further. “How I was feeling? What are you, a therapist? Figured I’m an easy meal ticket if you study up enough on how to fix me?” He continues to switch through channels, body eventually going lax again.

Morty shifts forward, rubbing his arm. “Geez, I just didn’t wanna pass through if you weren’t in a good mood.” His grandfather shoots him an incredulous stare, setting the remote down temporarily.

“Okay, well, I’m not anymore. Go to bed, piss off, shoo, whatever.” He picks the remote back up again, clicking away while Morty fidgets.

Quieter, he adds, “. . . night, kiddo.” Rick glances off to the side. “Just stop eyeing the back of my head. It’s — it’s getting creepy. Or, or, just tell me what you want now instead of pretending that there’s no issue and wasting any more of my time.”

Morty takes another step forward, letting a huff out right as Rick starts tapping his foot.

“Well?”

“I just — I just feel so weird!” Morty bursts, running his fingers though his hair. “Everything feels so unfamiliar after that Roy game! Like, way more than usual! It usually doesn’t take so long for things to feel . . . normal, again. But everything is still weird and, and shitty.”

For a few moments, Rick hesitates.

“You always struggle coming down from Roy.”

“I know that! Damnit, that’s what I’ve been telling myself all day,” Morty says, “but it’s not helping! Nothing is! You sure as hell aren’t!”

Morty cringes harshly as Rick turns to look at him again.

“Shit, sorry, I know I shouldn’t be treating you like that — “

“Morty — “

“But why?” Morty breathes tiredly. Rick goes rim-rod straight.

“Why? I can’t help but feel that I should be angry at you, or should be treating you like that, but I’m not. Well, it’s not that I’m not angry at you, it’s just — “ Morty gestures wildly, voice exasperated.

“I don’t feel like I’m angry enough. And — and I think I was, once. Or, I knew how to be? I don’t know, Rick, I just feel different.” Morty wipes at his eyes, his mind feeling raw and blistered.

“I know I ended up killing a lot of myself, and you probably think it’s stupid to be talking about this, but it’s not stupid to me. It’s not. . .”Morty trails off, jumps when Rick makes the couch creak when he sits up.

“Morty, either go to bed,” Rick jabs his thumb towards the stairs, “or quit monologuing at me with your teen angst bullshit and sit down and relax.” Rick pats down the cushion next to him.

After a deliberating silence, Morty hesitantly sits down, staring at Rick suspiciously the whole way down. Because Rick is a brittle old man, he always is, and Morty must be vigilant.

Rick reached for the remote, and Morty speaks without thinking: “Didn’t you just say to stop pretending?” Morty cowers when Rick glares at him, and Rick pauses and sighs deeply.

“Yeah, and I said to stop wasting my time. Fi — Figures I could only count on one of those conditions happening. The one most convenient for you.” Rick burps, which is worth mentioning because it’s rarer nowadays.

“Rick, can’t you try to be a bit nicer to me? Y’know, have a bit more empathy?” Morty says, but he is the one burning this time because these passive words aren’t right. The majority of him thinks so, but a part of him throbs at it, at the sentiment. Something aches in its own incompletion, a strange phantom pain that makes his head swim.

“I just feel like I need something more. From you, and myself. Like I just — just — “

“You’re incomplete.” Rick says, idly picking at a faint stain on his shirt. Morty’s attention snaps to Rick. His grandfather’s face is perfectly neutral, unreadable in the way no one knows what goes on in the depths of the ocean when looking at the surface.

“I guess.” Rick sighs at Morty’s response, facade wrinkling.

“No you don’t ‘guess.’ You are.” Rick holds his hand up before Morty can blurt anything, can panic.

“But nobody really is.” Rick rearranges himself on the couch. “You probably weren’t even really before.”

“But I could’ve been,” Morty says, mind splitting and spinning. His perception of himself is distorted, and he can never know the true level of it. He can’t know himself truly, not anymore, and that knowledge sits heavy on his chest, like a heart attack waiting to happen.

“So could’ve been anyone else.” The words feel like ice on Morty’s skin and goosebumps start to raise, but then a cautious hand is on his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be fine, Morty.” He says, a touch exasperated, but the hand on Morty’s shoulder is warm. And that specific prospect pokes at his mind, all-consuming. Rick, the brittle old man that can do very little with what he has besides hurt, has callouses deep enough in his hands that they can be felt even through a shirt. His hands should be cold, or at the very least, burning hot.

Because for all of that — for all of the hot and cold moods — Rick is not warm. There is not a piece of him that is lukewarm, or moderate, or temperate. Not a piece of him that doesn’t break off a little when he brushes against something hard enough.

But Rick’s hand is warm, warm enough to make Morty’s eyes prickle. Enough to make him lower his head as Rick finally clicks onto a channel and settles on it.

A part of him isn’t really comforted by Rick’s words, but it’s rare for the whole of him to be comforted by Rick, anyway. He’s gotten used to that.

But Rick’s thumb rubs at his shoulder, and it’s probably the closest he’s gotten to feeling as though Rick is trying. As though Rick misses as much as Morty does. As though Rick aches a similar tune to Morty.

He can’t say it’s enough in the grand scheme of things, but he does start to doze off. His vision gets bleary and his head stops pounding, so it’s enough for tonight.

He’s tossed vaguely awake when Rick wraps his arm properly around him, seeming to decide to settle down for the night too.

“You promise I’ll be fine?” Morty mumbles irrationally into the air, a vague afterthought.

Rick is a warm heartbeat beside him, steady and even gentle when he rubs Morty’s arm again.

“For fuck’s sake, Morty, yeah.” Rick’s frustration is practically palpable, but Morty still barely processes Rick pulling him just a bit closer just as he falls asleep, warmth gathered in his chest.

———

im sososo sorry if this comes off as cringy lmao. this is my first time properly writing them so I hope it doesn’t come off too badly! honestly, it was probably a bit more than I should’ve started with, considering morty is already supposed to be acting different and this is my first time writing him buuuuut. oh well this is what I wanted to write so. the heart wants what it wants and all. rlly tho! I hope you enjoyed @hazelnut-u-out !!! and rlly anyone who reads this! also, I fully intend to write out every other request I got! it just will take awhile lmao not too long tho I got y’all

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick and morty fanfiction #writing requests #my fics #rick and morty season 6 #rlly hope u like it!!! <3 #thanks for the request!#corvi writes

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