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tiip2ydoodles · 4 years

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Are You Even Morty Anymore

Morty’s been quiet ever since the night of the dance, and Summer’s starting to worry. Read it [HERE] on AO3!

“Sooooo...Morty’s been quiet lately.”

Summer leaned against the doorway to the garage, phone in hand. If it weren’t for the tone of her voice, everything about her would lead one to believe that she didn’t care about the topic at hand; her shoulders slumped, face passive, even blasé. One would be wrong about that assumption, however, and recognize that immediately once they heard the tautness of her voice. She crossed one leg in front of the other to properly wedge herself between the hardwood and the doorframe, hitting ‘send’ on a text before looking up at her grandfather.

“Yeah, and?” If Summer didn’t care, Rick really gave no fucks. Hunching over the worktable, squinting at something that Summer couldn’t see from her vantage point. She knew he was squinting, though. He always squinted when he was working.

“ Aaaand, he’s been quiet ever since the night of the dance. You know, with the whole cronenberg disaster that you started.”

One very well maintained eyebrow quirked up pointedly, but Summer’s nose was back in her phone after a cursory glance. Rick didn’t reply for a second. From the stiffness of his posture Summer correctly guessed that something had caught his eye and that he’d reply when he’d finished picking at whatever little bug had irked him. Mostly correctly, anyway - he didn’t end up replying. It was like he’d forgotten Summer was standing there at all.

That’s fair, Summer thought to herself. I’m being quiet and he’s a narcissistic bastard.

She cleared her throat. Rick groaned.

“Ugh, what. ”

“Are you going to tell me what happened to Morty then or do I have to tell Mom that you traumatized him again.” Cutting straight to the point. Rick turned, eyes narrowed, looking Summer up and down. Summer pocketed her phone, folding her arms over her chest and giving him that laser-focused glare Rick would otherwise be proud to say was from his side of the gene pool.

So it was a battle of wills, then. He glared her down as well, but in the silence it was becoming increasingly obvious that Summer wasn’t backing down from this. She actually cared.

With a surrendering, aggravated noise Rick threw his arms up and swiveled back in his chair to face his desk. “Listen, Summer, I don’t have time to-- to, to constantly make sure his fragile psyche is still holding together. If you want to tell your mother, I-I-I don’t give a shit, she won’t do anything about it anyway. She’s too scared I’ll run off again.”

He pounded on his chest in the middle of the sentence, forcing out a loud belch. Summer wrinkled her nose and scoffed.

“Whatever.” It wasn’t exactly the most stinging of dismissals, and Summer knew it, but she wasn’t about to fight with Rick over whether or not he should feel remorse or heaven forbid, empathy. Whatever he’d done to fuck Morty up this time, she wasn’t about to get him to see that it was probably his fault. He’d never see it, not in a million years, and most likely in a few months’ time Morty’s going to have it repressed as usual.

Honestly, Summer had no idea why she even bothered sometimes. Clearly their parents had stopped trying long ago. She turned, not bothering to close the door as she went back down the hall to the living room.

Morty was there, as usual. He’d been there for a while now, easily since before breakfast. Always that same look - the mouth slightly agape, staring somewhere just a few feet up and to the left of the TV screen instead of actually at it. His homework sat on his lap, not even touched - not even the classic dicks and doodles 14-year-olds would normally spend time procrastinating on. Summer felt a cold clench in her chest to see him sitting there with the thousand yard stare of someone who’d seen a lifetime of war. He’s just a kid.

How did her parents not notice this?

Rick was right, in a way, she supposed as she passed the living room and headed into the kitchen to get a drink. She turned the tap, staring through the kitchen window and to the outside where Jerry was obsessively cutting the weeds, again. After a while, her eyes became glassy and she, too, stared off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. Beth was too scared to stand up to Rick for fear of him leaving and Jerry was….well. Summer loved her father but he was what he was and nothing would change that. He’d never do anything to jeopardize his clearly failing relationship with Beth, and that meant letting Rick steamroller over them both and continually break their son over and over.

Cold water flowed over Summer’s hand and it shocked her so badly out of her reverie that she squeezed the glass too tightly, shattering it in the metal sink.

“Summer?” Morty’s voice even cut through the air a little weaker than it used to. He sounded like an old man, frail and weak and barely having the strength to talk. It wavered with more than his normal stutter and Summer’s eyes stung. “Are you okay?”

Are YOU okay? She wanted to ask, wiping her eyes. Jesus christ, did I forget my meds today? I don’t usually get this weepy. Morty’s going to be fine. I’m just overthinking it.

Right?

“I’m fine,” She called. "I just dropped a glass, that's all. Clumsy me, haha." The laugh came off as forced but she knew he was too out of it to notice. Lowering her hand from her face, she realized she’d cut it on the glass. The smell of iron clung to her nose from where it wafted from the stain under both her eyes. She could hear Morty’s footsteps coming into the kitchen, coming to check on her. Shit.

Summer grabbed a dish towel and viciously rubbed her face clean, wrapping up her hand just as Morty came in. If he had anything to say about the redness around her eyes, he said nothing. His own eyes slid from her towel-wrapped hand to the still bloody shards of glass in the sink. He turned, leaving the kitchen again.

“Oh. I-I’ll get a first aid kit.”

Summer stood there, stunned. He’d never really been queasy for just a little blood, it took a lot to really freak him out nowadays when it comes to gore, but the way that he simply shut down and didn’t react in the slightest scared Summer. It sent a chill up her spine.

No person in their right mind just sees that much blood and doesn’t even care. Something whispered in Summer’s mind. He’s NOT okay. Do something-

“Morty--” Summer called. There was shuffling, and Morty poked his head around the kitchen doorway again before coming in with the large first aid kit from the broom cupboard.

“Yeah, Summer?”

Summer faltered as he opened the plastic case, pulling out bandages and antiseptic. He motioned for her hand, making a ‘gimme’ motion without looking at her that she’d seen Rick do to him a million times. It made her stall, and Morty looked up at her.

“Are you okay? Are-- are you going to faint o-or something…?”

He’s already so much like Rick.

“Uh….no.” Summer mumbled. She held out her hand. Morty said nothing, peeling back the towel that was now thoroughly stained a deep red. He didn’t even flinch, not a single wrinkle in his blank expression to show that he acknowledged it.

“This is going to hurt.” He said instead, picking up the antiseptic spray and pausing for a moment. He looked up at Summer for the barest split second, and Summer caught the concern in his eyes, in the way he frowned. The way he waited for permission.

Her chest hurt. Why are you so worried about me? What the hell happened to you, Morty? Are you even Morty anymore?

“It’s fine. Go ahead.” She said, then winced as the alcohol hit her open cut. Morty bandaged it quickly and tightly, doing a much better job than Summer could have ever expected from him. As he tied it off and cut it, making sure the gauze underneath was in place, she stared at him. Something in the very back of her mind wondered how often he’d had to bandage himself, or others, or even Rick.

The thought left a bad taste in her mouth. “...Thanks.”

“No problem. Now clean up the glass, that’s your own damn fault.” There it was, just the tiniest spark of life. Hope flared up in Summer that maybe he wasn’t totally broken just yet, but then the spark died as he went back on autopilot aand put the leftover bandages back in the kit.

Summer watched him pack the kit away, leave the kitchen and sit back down on the couch. Task accomplished, fugue consuming him once more, he’d forgotten what he was doing and left the kit by the arm of the couch where he sat. His homework reclaimed its spot on his lap as if he had never gotten up, and he resumed staring at the not-TV screen with that blank, slightly agape look on his face. Summer watched him for a good five minutes but he just...didn’t move. Not even to scratch.

Her chest hurt as she turned back to the sink, slowly picking up the broken shards and throwing them away.

#Rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #summer smith #fanfic #my writing

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ramheavenandhell · 5 years

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The Worth of a Morty

AN: This story was actually inspired a long time ago by many, many fanfics where Morty gets terminally ill and Rick tries to cure him. However, I decided to make mine a platonic take of that kind of premise…and also give it a sad ending. So, you have been warned. Also, many, many thanks to @rickxoxomort for drawing this precious cover art <3 You're da best! Warning: angst, character death, OOCness, probably some spoilers if you haven't read the comics Summary: "It's okay, isn't it? I mean, it's not like it really matters, right Rick? Isn't that what you always say "nothing matters"? So, this is nothing. It's just a small blip on the radar of the universe. I'm just one Morty and you always keep reminding me how disposable I am. My life holds no worth. And Mortys die every day anyways, right? It's just infinite minus one. Doesn't really matter on the grand scale. Nothing does. I'm just another Morty, who didn't make it now…"

The Worth of a Morty Many things were said about death. Some say it comes swift and unexpected. Others said it would slowly creep up on you. Rick Sanchez was a man that wasn't thinking much about death. Or rather, he was thinking too much about it. The realization of his own mortality and the futileness of his existence on the universal scale. The knowledge that after his death, he would be soon forgotten and the universe will just keep expanding as if he hadn't existed to begin with. The thought that with death everything was just over and there was no paradise in heaven or fiery pits of hell. No afterlife and no rebirth. There was nothing. You just drop dead and that was it. It was these realizations – that his own existence didn't matter – that made him choose to drown his own thoughts in alcohol every so often. It was also the reason why he choose to live his life to the fullest every day while still abiding to the natural struggle of staying alive for as long as possible like every other living being. However, while the thought of his own death was something that he liked to avoid as much as possible (though in his old age, it was still constantly in the back of his mind), he didn't really feel bothered by witnessing the death of others. How could he, seeing, as he himself was often the demise of entire species, planets, even solar systems? As equally unmoving did he feel about seeing his own corpse, which also wasn't as much of a rare sight as one might think. Seeing, as there were infinite dimensions, one Rick Sanchez was just bound to stumble across one or two dead versions of himself eventually. And how could that bother him really? In the grand scheme, it didn't really matter anyway and there were still plenty of him around. It was just infinite minus one or two, really. So, he didn't feel anything when seeing himself die or dead. He also didn't feel anything when seeing other versions of his family finding their end. And the same went for Mortys. He had certainly seen as many dead grandsons as he had seen dead versions of himself. Sometimes, he was even the cause for their death. It meant nothing to him. After all, there were still plenty around. However, the question was if he would be equally unbothered if it was about his own grandson – the Morty from his dimension. He was constantly busy saving the boy from trouble that he brought upon himself (though in truth, Rick was the one, who would get him into that sort of trouble to begin with). And while the occasions were rare, he went out his way to even sacrifice his own life for him. However, while he was usually successful in his rescue missions, eventually there had to be one time that even Rick Sanchez had to fail. It all started slowly, so slowly creeping up on them that it hit them unexpectedly… "R-Rick… I don't feel so good…" Morty groaned softly as he stumbled to keep up with his grandfather's long strides. Rick didn't stop or even look back. "Quit your whining, Morty." He had important stuff to do and didn't care about whatever Morty was complaining about. If the boy really got sick, he would just make him a cure when they got home. At the moment, it was more important for him to get those rare crystals, which he would use as a new power source for his space car. He wasn't just going to stop because his grandson started to get a cold or something stupid like that. However, for as tame as their hunt after those mysterious crystals went even before their adventure ended, Morty was more exhausted than ever. "C-can we please… take a br-break… Rick?" the boy asked between panting breaths. "No way, Morty." Rick said, as he looked the crystal in his hand over to make sure that they really found the right ones. "These crystals don't harvest themselves. So grab a bag and start plucking." With shaking hands, he caught the big brown sack that his grandfather threw at him and started to collect the crystal that glowed in a turquoise color. Of course, it wouldn't be a real Rick and Morty AdventureTM, when things would have just continued to stay as peaceful as that. Their happy-crystal-harvest was quickly interrupted as Morty accidentally woke up the creature on which's back the crystals were growing and not soon after were they chased through the maze-like tunnels of the cave that they were in with a dinosaur-like alien on their heels. While they fled, Morty was slower than he usually was in a situation in which he had to run for his life. The monster was steadily gaining up on him. Worse came to worst, when the boy stumbled and fell to the ground. "Argh! Dammit, Morty!" Rick cursed as he, too, sharply stopped and dashed back to pick up Morty by the back of his shirt. "Will you stop acting like a virgin in a slasher movie for once, Morty? It gets really repetitive when you fall down every time that we're being chased." There was no comeback from the boy as he continued to hang limply in Rick's grasp. Rick only grunted in annoyance that he had to lug his grandson around while they were still being chased. Eventually, he managed to escape from the beast and opened a portal, which brought them back home – inside the garage and Rick's personal workshop. He let the boy finally drop unceremoniously on the ground as he started to ramble on about how Morty had once again managed to ruin everything as they returned empty-handed now. "Goddammit, Morty! I already had those crystals and then you-you-you had to wake it up and now I've got nothing." Rick kept on ranting for a while before he stopped. Something was weird here. Usually, Morty would protest back that it wasn't entirely his fault that their adventure had ended like this or he would complain about something or another, but he had oddly stayed silent through the entire time that his grandfather had been verbally ripping into him. "Morty?" Rick actually turned around to the boy to see him still laying on the floor where he had dropped him. "Morty!" He rushed over to the boy only find out that he had been so silent the entire time because he was passed out. It made Rick panic a little bit before he remembered that Morty had complained about not feeling too well before. He had been also trembling, panting and sweating a lot even though they hadn't really walked all that much. Maybe he had caught some sort of alien flu or something? So, Rick decided to cure his grandson – also for the sake that he wouldn't be a whiney bitch about this after he woke up again. He picked Morty up and brought him down to his underground laboratory where he placed him on an examination table. Rick took a blood sample and started to run several tests. However, the more he tested and looked over the results, the more confused he became. In the middle of the examination, Morty had come to again and looked quizzically up at his grandfather as he looked once more over the results. "Have you found out what is wrong with me, Rick?" he asked weakly. "That is the thing, Morty. There is nothing wrong with you." "What? But I feel so weak." Morty couldn't believe that it was true. Rick sighed. "You're probably just exhausted, Morty. You should go to bed and sleep." The scientist decided to give up and could only assume that the boy was just tired. Maybe he should avoid pulling him out of bed around 3 AM for a while, he figured. Morty still found it hard to believe, but followed Rick's advice and went to bed early. True to his word, Rick had avoided waking Morty up in the middle of the night to take him on an adventure. He didn't even bother the boy at school and generally laid off for a while. However, it seemed that over time instead of getting better, Morty's condition just got worse. The only things that he complained about was just being tired all the time and feeling nauseous though. When the boy eventually became too weak to even walk on his own anymore, Rick examined him once again… and once more, he was not able to find anything wrong with him. Being at the end of his medicinal knowledge, he decided that he needed professional help. "Oh c'mon! Just get your ass over here!" Rick practically yelled into his mobile phone while Morty watched him queasily from the examination table. "Haven't you sworn an oath to help all Mortys or something like that?" Whoever Rick was talking to, replied. Unfortunately, Morty wasn't able to hear what was said. "As I told you before, I can't bring him over to you. I'm pretty much sure that I'm not welcome on the Citadel anymore after destroying it and killing everyone in charge." He was silent for another moment as his conversational partner replied. Then, "Yeah, see you." With those last words, he hung up. Morty wanted to ask whom Rick had called, but before he could even get the first word out, a portal suddenly opened. "You better remember that home visits aren't cheap, C-137." The Rick who entered through the portal said as a greeting. He wore a blue-green top with inflated see-through plastic sleeves and a white smock. Teal-colored latex gloves were also adorning his hands. The white headpiece on his head kind of looked out of place on him though. It was something that Morty would have expected a nurse to wear, but not some kind of Rick doctor. The doctor, who was known as Surgeon Rick, also had a large briefcase with him. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Will you just go and take a look at him already." Rick waved towards his Morty, not really caring about money at the moment. Surgeon Rick went over to the examination table. "Why, hello there, Morty. Where does it hurt?" "I'm not really hurting. I just feel really weak." Morty said, feeling a bit uncomfortable as he always did around doctors even if this one was a Rick…or maybe especially because this one was a Rick. Surgeon Rick hummed as he opened his briefcase and removed all sorts of tools that he had brought with him. The sight of some of them made Morty sweat and swallow heavily. Hopefully, the doctor wasn't planning on using all of those on him. Just like Rick C-137, Surgeon Rick began to run several tests on the boy. Looking with a frown at his results, he began to question the boy. "Morty, did you eat something before you started to feel like this? A plant or fruit or did you put anything else in your mouth?" The boy shook his head. Surgeon Rick hummed. "Did you get bitten by an animal or another creature or stung by something?" "No. Nothing like that. I just started to feel really tired from one moment to the other." Surgeon Rick hummed once more before he turned towards Rick C-137. "Where did you say again did he catch this?" "We were on planet Cyrumlon in dimension B-622C. Could you find out what he has?" "Gonna set that one on the red list so other Ricks won't bring their Mortys there." Surgeon Rick said as he made an according note on his tablet pc. "It seems your Morty's muscles are deteriorating by the way." "Yeah, I already figured out as much! I want to know what's causing it or preferably how to cure it!" Rick was pissed. He hadn't gone out of his way to bring this asshole of a professional medic here just to hear from him what he already knew. "See, that's the thing, C-137." Surgeon Rick started and moved a bit farther away from the Morty as if he didn't want him to hear the conversation even though the boy could still hear them. "Your Morty is a hopeless case. There's no way to cure him." "You can't be serious!" C-137 protested. "Just telling you as it is. There's nothing that I can do for him. You know as good as I do that at this rate, he's only got a few more hours or may one to two days at best. Just give up and get yourself a new one at the Citadel's Reassignment Center. Better get going soon 'cause, you know that they have long lines and it takes a while to get a new one." Surgeon Rick started to pack his stuff together. "Oh, if you like, I can put him out of his misery right now." "What?! No!! Get the hell out of here!" Morty felt queasy as he followed the conversation especially when the doctor offered to put him out as if he was just some pet. This was it though, wasn't it? If a Rick Doctor of all people said that there was no chance of recovery for him then he was really done for. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Though, he had never liked to imagine it, he had been thinking how it probably must be for people when they were diagnosed with cancer and were told that they only had a few more months to live. He'd always imagined that if it was him, he'd probably freak out, get really angry and start throwing things around or just break down and cry, but now he just felt numb. "Here's your stupid money and now get out you quack." C-137 practically shoved the money into Surgeon Rick's arms and pushed him through the portal. He didn't like to hear the news, but in the end it only confirmed his fears. Even the medic couldn't find the cause for the disintegration of Morty's muscles and therefore a cure for it. Rick knew there wasn't much that he could do anymore now. Sure, he could try to stimulate the boy's muscles with electricity and use some other stimulants on him, but in the long run the only good it would do was buy them some more time. Eventually, the muscles in Morty's body would completely stop working, which in turn would mean that his heart would stop pumping blood through his veins. It would just stop beating and the boy would die and even if he tried to give him a pacemaker, his other organs would also eventually fail to function. Completely bypassing the fact that Morty would be bedridden and not be able to take care of himself anymore… "Hey, Rick?" Morty interrupted his dark thoughts. "Since you lost the free voucher when I had been kidnapped by those drug lords, you'll probably have to wait a bit before you get another Morty…so you should probably do what the doctor had said and go to that reassignment center right now." Morty actually hoped that Rick wasn't too angry about that time. They just happened to forget the voucher there after all that chaos. The boy could still remember how Rick had handed him the piece of paper before he had been abducted. "Here." Rick said, as he handed him the slip that Morty quickly identified as the voucher for a free Morty that Rick had received after he had been falsely accused of Rickicide by the Council of Ricks. "While I'm on the toilet and produce something worthless, you can think about your own worth, Morty." "Wha-wha-what are you saying, Morty? You're not gonna die. I'll fix you back up again, all right buddy?" Rick tried to smile reassuringly at his grandson. "Grandpa's got this, Morty. I'll fix it. Ju-just like always, Morty." They both knew that it was a lie. "It's okay, Rick." No, it wasn't okay. It was anything but okay. But what could Rick do about it? There was nothing that he could do. He was the most intelligent man in the entire universe and yet there was nothing that he could do to save his grandson. "Morty…" Rick started, his tone sounding apologetic. Rick Sanchez never apologized. Morty interrupted him though. "Hey, Rick? Can you do me a favor?" "Sure, Morty. What is it?" At this point Rick would do anything for him. Well, maybe with a few limitations, but as long as it wasn't too whack, Rick would grant him his wish. "I would like to see Vensenulon 7 one more time." "Sure, Morty. Is that all you want?" That request sounded too simple. Rick would have expected that Morty might had wanted to do more than just that before he… Maybe eat so much of the best ice cream in the multiverse till he exploded. Or hang out in Blips and Chitz. Heck, he would have even understood it if the boy wouldn't have wanted to die as a virgin and asked him to bring him to a dimension where Jessica had the hots for him and would let him do the do with her. Because that dimension totally existed out there. "Yeah, I just wanna see it one more time." Morty nodded. Rick grabbed his portal gun and inserted the coordinates. Meanwhile, Morty tried to get up from the examination table by himself, but his weak arms failed to heave his upper body up. Trying the next best thing, he rolled over on his side and let his legs dangle over the edge before he placed his feet on the ground. As soon as he tried to put his weight on his legs though, he collapsed and fell on the ground. Rick quickly went over to him and picked him up, carrying Morty in his arms. It was sad to see that the boy was already too weak to walk on his own. As they went through the portal, the beautiful sight of a lush meadow, a violet sky and a giant mountain from which spewed sparkling water in the distance opened up in front of them. For some odd reason Morty could only remember this place fuzzily, but he didn't know why. It was almost as if he had forgotten something important about it, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was. Yet it still looked as paradisiac as he could recall from his murky memory. "Um, Rick? Could you bring me over there please?" Morty shakily pointed to a spot that was a bit closer to the river. Rick didn't complain and carried him over to where he wanted. "Here?" "Yeah, this is a good spot. Please let me down here." Rick let Morty down, who then sat in the grass and looked over the water. His posture was a little slouched as he struggled to maintain his seated position, putting more effort and energy in it than he ever remembered doing before. Even though it was still afternoon, it really was a good spot from which the sunset could be viewed perfectly. For a moment, neither said a word. "Well, you should probably go and pick up your new Morty now." Morty finally spoke up. "You can just leave me here." "But, Morty…" "It's okay, isn't it?" Morty smiled sadly. "I mean, it's not like it really matters, right Rick? Isn't that what you always say "nothing matters"? So, this is nothing. It's just a small blip on the radar of the universe. I'm just one Morty and you always keep reminding me how disposable I am. My life holds no worth. And Mortys die every day anyways, right? It's just infinite minus one. Doesn't really matter on the grand scale. Nothing does. I'm just another Morty, who didn't make it now…" Morty remembered the many dead Mortys he had already seen in his life. Whether it was his own corpse that he had to bury in the backyard, the countless bodies as his Rick had warped the entire Citadel of Ricks into the high security prison of the Galactic Federation or the Morty that he had shot as he was on his fascism hunt. He was just one of those Mortys now. As equally as important as all of his dead alternate selves who didn't amount to anything. Maybe, it was finally now that he understood Rick better than ever before, he thought. "M-Morty. I just can't leave you here." Rick protested. He wasn't just going to leave his grandson all alone in his last moments. Morty blinked back up at him. "Oh, if you have the need to bury my corpse or something, you can still come back later to do that. You don't really have to wait here." In Morty's opinion that made sense. Wouldn't it be even more efficient for Rick if he would just bring his new Morty and let him do the digging? He knew if he were the "new Morty", Rick would have made him do it. Rick suddenly knelt down behind him and wrapped his arms around him, hiding his face in Morty's neck and making it impossible for Morty to look at him now. The action surprised the boy. Rick had never done anything like this before. The scientist wasn't really one for cuddling and hugs were maybe not completely absent, but they were still pretty rare. "Don't you want to say goodbye to your family or something?" Rick mumbled against his neck. "Wouldn't it be weird if I did that when you're going to show up with a new Morty later on?" Morty argued back. "Besides they weren't my real family anyways. My family is in dimension C-137 and I don't think that they would care much if I showed up now. I've been probably dead to them since we left that dimension behind…" He remembered how they had acted the last time that he had seen his original family when he had brought his "current" Summer there. A sob rang suddenly through the air. "R-Rick? Are you crying?" Morty asked as he heard unmistakable sniffling. "Why are you crying? Did you get hurt or something, Rick? If you're hurt you should take care of it. Or-or-or go and see a doctor in case it's something serious…" "Will you just shut up, Morty!" Rick ground out angrily and pulled the boy even closer into his arms. Morty was confused by this behavior. Surely Rick wasn't crying because of him, right? No, he couldn't be crying over Morty because in a few hours, he would have already picked up a new Morty anyways. And then Rick would just continue to live his life like he had done before. He would probably not even think about him anymore or even remember him. And why should he if he had a new Morty at his side? The sobs had subsided after a while and both just sat there and watched the sun slowly set behind the mountain. Since it became too exhausting for Morty to even sit up, the boy just laid down on the soft grass while Rick continued to sit close beside him. They watched how one of Vensenulion 7's many moons rose and admired the night sky still in silence. Morty started to shiver. "It's gotten cold." His voice was barely audible, it was so weak. "Yeah, you're right." Rick said. It wasn't true though. It wasn't cold at all. The nice warmth from the day still hung in the air and radiated from the soil and the close by water. Still, Rick took off his lab coat and wrapped it around Morty. "Thank you." The boy mumbled and Rick merely shrugged it off. It was rare to see Rick being so nice to him, but Morty didn't mind it. It made him smile. Silence settled between them once again as they both continued to look up at the stars. They both thought about all the adventures they had shared together… and all the ones that they wouldn't be able to have together. Rick had always thought if one of them would have to die first, it would be him. Obviously, with his age and all. That was the natural order of things and no grandparent should have to live through the death of their grandchild ever. His zero risk-awareness would have probably also furthered the odds of him being the first to go, too. So why wasn't he? Why did he get to live while Morty had to die?

The universe could be so fucking unfair, cruel and unforgiving sometimes…

Morty thought somewhat similarly about the order of their deaths though he always thought that they both would die on the same day. He had always been expecting that Rick would die first and then leave him behind in some crappy, alien-related, dangerous situation in which he would die without Rick's genius and technology then.

To see it come to this felt almost ironic.

"I…feel so…tired…" Morty's voice was so faint that it was merely a whisper anymore.

"…then sleep, Morty. And tomorrow we'll watch the sunrise together." Rick also whispered.

Morty hummed in response though if it wasn't for the small vibration his body created with it, it would have gone completely unnoticed. The boy slowly closed his eyes.

Rick bit his lower lip. Of course, he knew that it was a lie. Morty wouldn't see the sun rise again.

Not much later Morty's breath became fainter before it was gone completely.

Rick checked his pulse, but there was nothing.

Morty was gone for good. He wasn't going to wake up again.

Rick hugged the body of his grandson close to himself and sobbed again. He had failed Morty.

He knew what he needed to do. He needed to let go and go to the Citadel to pick up a new Morty. There were so many rickless Mortys there that waited for a new Rick to pick them up.

But Rick couldn't do it.

He couldn't let go of Morty and just continue to live on as if this had never happened. Not again. This boy hadn't just been a Morty. He had been his grandson – his grandson from his original dimension. And no one – no other Morty – could replace him. Ever!

"What had happened to Rick and Morty a hundred years?" Rick mumbled against Morty's still body.

No, he wouldn't let go. Never!

He would never fail his Morty again!

A Rick and his Morty where walking around on Vensenulon 7, searching for one thing or another. "Wah!" unsuspectingly, the Morty stumbled suddenly. As he looked down to see what he had stumbled over, he shrieked loudly. "What the heck are you screaming like that for?" his Rick asked. "Th-th-there's—it's our corpses!!" Rick walked over to take a look for himself. "Yeah, that's a dead Rick and his Morty from another dimension." He commented nonchalantly. The Morty was still frazzled. "But why? What did they die from?" He looked around in a panic as if expecting to find what had caused their deaths to be still lingering around and attacking them any moment. Which was kind of stupid because if they had been killed by some kind of animal, it probably would have eaten them and not just let the corpses lay around untouched like that. "Hmm." The Rick kneeled down a little to look a bit closer at his dead self as he analyzed the possible cause of his death. "This Rick must have died from dehydration." The signs were obvious enough. "What? How can that be? There is a giant river right over there?" The Morty gestured over to the body of water as he said that, not feeling one bit better at the revelation. "His Morty seemed to have died a while before him." The Rick ignored his grandson as he stared at the dead alternate of the boy that was held in his own dead counterpart's arms. The boy's corpse had already started to decompose. "It's hard to tell what he died from though. There's no wounds on the outside that would suggest an attack. And if it had been poison there should have been some discolorations on his skin." The Rick stood up again. "Can't really tell without autopsying the body." "I still don't understand what has happened here." The Morty was as confused as he was in the beginning. "Well, I'd say after his Morty died this Rick just gave up and waited here for his own death." He already turned away from the bodies and resumed his walk. "Which is really stupid. He could have just gotten himself a new Morty on the Citadel. There's plenty around." The Morty still stood over the corpses and looked at the strange picture. A Rick holding his Morty close to him even in death. Despite the grotesqueness, the sight looked oddly sweet, showing a sort of affection that he had never felt between himself and his grandfather. "Morty! Hurry up if you don't want me to just leave you here and get a new Morty." The Rick reprimanded him. The boy hurried to catch up with his grandfather, knowing that he probably would make that threat true if he got lost here. After all, he knew how much he was worth to his Rick. His grandfather had made it clear for him often enough…

#rick and morty #ram #rnm #rick #morty #morty smith #hopesfanfictions #fanfic #fanfiction #sad ending #character death #angst #drama

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Down With The Rickness; Ch2: Silhouettes

Summary: We confront Nova's parents, Nova gets drunk and then a certain group of guardians show up. Should be fun stuff.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long! I kinda wrote myself into a corner and it took me three completely different versions of this chapter to find something I was actually happy with. Next chapter will absolutely feature Drunk!Rick (because I mean, obviously. I'm using the Vindicators) and I'm absolutely going to write Drunk!Rick as the sappiest fucking asshole in the world.

CW: Vaguely suicidal tones in this chapter Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6542

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch1: Such Small Hands|

+Nova+

“Fuck this Rick, I’m not going,” I declared for the third time that night. Rick sighed again, flopping down into his workshop chair as he rested his head in his hands.

“Fine, we won’t go,” he sighed, leaning back to look up me, his frustration apparent in every tired wrinkle.

“Seriously? This was your idea in the first place!” I fumed, pacing back and forth. It was supposed to be an easy plan. We meet up with them in a public place, I tell them politely but firmly that I wouldn’t be contacting them after tonight. If my father decided to act out, Rick would be there to drive the point home. It was supposed to be so easy and still, I was absolutely terrified to the core.

“Nova, my ability to care about any of this is about to run out.”

“You were the one that seemed so adamant about this being the way we deal with them!”

“Yeah, that was before five wardrobe changes and two emotional breakdowns,” he snarled. “I want you to get over it but at this point, seeing you like this isn’t fucking worth it.”

“This was your fucking idea!” I repeated, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration.

“I can change my goddamn mind, Nova. I thought it would work out fine to just confront them, but you are losing your goddamn mind. This isn’t worth it,” he told me firmly, standing up to grab my shoulders and stop me pacing. I froze in place, trembling under his touch as echoes of shattering glass and dull screaming played on repeat. He pulled away quickly, cursing under his breath and sinking back into his chair.

“I-I’m sorry, Rick. I’ll just go,” I murmured, furious with myself above all else. He didn’t respond as I willed my legs to take me anywhere else, anywhere but right here.

I walked into the main house to sounds of mirth in the living room. Jerry had bought the kids some kind of cheap VR headset and from the sound of it, Madi, Summer and Morty were enjoying the misguided purchase. I stopped just short of the archway, unable to face Madi in such an unstable mindset so I headed for the front door instead, yanking it open and heading down the street.

It was weird to fight with Rick like that but arguments had become far more frequent ever since he delved into my dreams. He’d become cold and distant. It wasn’t unlike he was when he first came back, the difference being even back then he always looked happy to see me but now he just wore a constant look of regret at the sight of me. Beth explained everything they saw in my head but nothing stood out as something that could’ve upset him. It was like he just didn’t care anymore.

“My ability to care about any of this is about to run out.”

I walked aimlessly, turning down random streets in an attempt to get good and truly lost for a little while. I turned a corner, finding myself on a dark street where my usual fear would kick in to send me in the other direction but instead I just I felt numb to it. I had gotten lost but it was in my own head. I couldn’t stop replaying every brief interaction I’d had with Rick trying to figure out what I could’ve done wrong. I was so lost in thought, in fact, that it wasn’t until it was too late when I started realizing everything looked all too familiar. Nauseating memories haunted me from every turn as I found myself on the street I grew up on. It looked eerily the same as the last time I’d seen it, the lawn decorations and landscaping were different, sure, and most of the cars were upgraded but there was no mistaking where I was. I was home.

“Goddammit Lainie!” an angry voice called from down the street, “Let’s just fucking go, alright? We’re going to be late.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” a mousy voice called after him, sounding about as horrified as I felt. As I neared my childhood home, I watched my mother shoot down the front steps toward my father’s truck. I couldn’t stop myself as I walked closer to them, coming into the light of a streetlight. My mom looked up at the movement, narrowing her eyes to try to discern the figure before her.

“(Y/N)?” she whispered, inching toward me. My father passed a glance over his shoulder as he started climbing into his truck, his nose turning up at the sight of me.

“H-Hi Mom,” I greeted her timidly, twisting my hands over and over as she rushed toward me.

“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re okay. What are you doing out here? I thought we were meeting you at Shoney’s?” she asked, wrapping her arms around me and looking relieved to see me.

“I-I was nervous,” I admitted, “I went for a walk and I- I just kinda ended up here.”

“Charlie, Charlie look. It’s our baby girl,” my mom cried out to my dad, tears streaming down her face. My father grunted in response, cautiously watching our reunion in his rear view mirror.

“H-How are you, Mom?” I asked nervously, unsure of what to expect from the weeping woman in front of me. Of all the ways this scenario played out in my head, it never resulted in either of them being exactly happy to see me. I was half right, Dad was going to be distant and cold no matter what, but my mother’s reaction floored me.

“Oh, I’m great, baby,” she wept, stepping back to take in my appearance entirely. “Sweetheart, have you been taking care of yourself? I know your husband just died and all, but you’ll need to find someone who can take care of you and your daughter.”

“M-Mom, I can take care of myself,” I told her nervously, stepping away and crossing my arms across my chest. There it was, the same obsession with appearances that I remembered from my youth on painful display.

“I know you can, sweetheart,” she chastised me, taking another step closer, “but you have another person to think about. Do you have a job? Are you financially stable? Did he have a life insurance policy on him?”

“Mom, I’m fine,” I assured her firmly, recoiling away from her. “My daughter will be well taken care of. I don’t need someone else to do it for me.”

“Where is she right now? Is someone keeping an eye on her?” Mom grilled me, peeking around me as though Madison would jump out at any second. When I didn’t answer, a smug smile curled over her features, “See, you have someone taking care of her right now, don’t you?”

“Sh-She’s home alone,” I lied, “She’s old enough that I can go for a goddamn walk without having to have her with me.”

“No need to be hostile, (Y/N),” she reprimanded me, wagging her finger in my face. “You may have run out on us, but we’re still your parents and you will respect us.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Where are you living? Obviously in walking distance,” she barreled over me, looking over my shoulder for a house that didn’t exist.

“Don’t worry about where I live. I came here to tell you-”

“We do have rights, you know. We deserve to see our granddaughter.”

“Mom! Stop!” I snapped, “I don’t want you to contact me anymore. I don’t know why you did in the first place but my life has been a lot easier without you and Dad in it and I prefer to keep it that way.”

“(Y/N), don’t you dare talk to your mother like that,” my father growled, finally climbing out of his truck and slamming the door. “If you try to stop her from seeing our grandchild, we will get lawyers involved.”

“Just leave me alone,” I snarled, backing away slowly from them. A firm figure behind me stopped me in my tracks as warm, calloused hands pushed me behind him. Rick towered ominously over my mother, glaring down as she stared up at him, unthreatened.

“Who in the hell are you?” she asked, squinting up at him before returning her gaze to me.

“I’m a friend of (Y/N)’s,” he growled at her, “and you’re going to leave her and her family the fuck alone if you know what’s good for you.”

“Look buddy,” my dad started, crossing the yard to come to my mother’s defense. “I don’t know who you think you are-”

“N-Not your buddy, guy,” Rick stopped him with a shrug. “(Y/N) wants you to leave her alone, I suggest you do that. Continuing to harass her doesn’t end well for you.”

“Listen here, you scrawny old fuck. I haven’t been in a fight in years but if you keep talking to my wife that way, I will take you to task.”

“D-Dad, don’t-”

“I’d listen to your daughter there, Charlie,” Rick sneered, flicking the nametag on my father’s chest.

“Look here you piece of shit-”

“I’d say, out of respect for (Y/N), you get one more of those,” Rick interrupted again, relishing in the fury he was inciting in my father. I could see the veins bulging in his face at Rick’s disrespect and it was all I could do to resist the urge to giggle nervously.

“C-Come on, let’s just go,” I murmured softly to Rick, grabbing his hand and interlocking our fingers. He met my gaze, a soft look flashing over his features before it distorted in anger as my father reared back, sucker punching Rick right in his gut.

“H-Hey, that’s the hardest working liver in the galaxy,” Rick swore, recovering far quicker than my father had expected.

“Charlie, stop!” my mom screamed, grabbing my dad’s arm in an attempt to pull him away only to earn a backhanded slap for her troubles. Rick sighed, lifting his arm up as his hand shifted into the large gun it held within. My father froze in his tracks, staring up at the large weapon pointed directly at his head.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do it,” Rick asked me, his boredom oozing into every syllable.

“R-Rick, I- Uh,” I stammered. I could think of all the moral reasons not to kill him but I knew telling Rick to spare him because it was ‘wrong’ to kill him would just earn me a hearty chuckle. I watched my father, cowering on the ground with his hands over his head as his only defense. Seeing him like this was invigorating in a way I never thought possible. His eyes broke from Rick’s feet and up to me, all consuming fear overwhelming him as a damp spot formed on his jeans.

“Please, (Y/N),” he pleaded, “I know I wasn’t the greatest father but-”

“Ah, ah. I asked Nova, not you,” Rick glared at him, swearing inwardly at the use of my nickname.

“N-Nova?” my mother whimpered, her eyes darting between the three of us. “I-Isn’t that what that Beth Sanchez girl called you?”

“Don’t bother with them, Rick,” I murmured, pulling him away from them. “They’re not worth it. You made your point. Let’s go home.”

“R-Rick? Rick Sanchez?” my mother spoke up again, this time with more determination in her voice. “You’re shacking up with your best friend’s father?”

“Nova, they're not going to stop, you know that right? Th-They contacted you in the first place because they think they can weasel back into your life now that you’re vulnerable,” Rick reasoned with me, facing them again. “Let me help you, Nova. Let me keep you safe.”

“You can’t, Rick,” I smiled sadly at him, “I just want to go.”

“I’m going to keep you safe, goddammit. I’ve gotta be able to do one fucking thing right. I wanted to kill Ryan from the get go, but you wouldn’t let me. Now you’re going to let them live because- What? They’re your family?”

“They’re not my family,” I hissed, glaring up at Rick stubbornly.

“So let me do this, let me take care of you.”

My eyes flicked back to my parents one last time before turning to walk away. “Do whatever you have to do Rick, I don’t want to know anything about it,” I relented, walking away from the house for what I could only hope to be the last time.

Rick didn’t answer but he also didn’t follow me. I was a couple blocks away when he finally caught up with me again, keeping his distance as he followed behind me silently. When we got home, I climbed into Rick’s ship wordlessly, desperate to avoid any human interaction that would require me to explain anything that just happened. Rick had probably killed them and I couldn’t quite reconcile just how okay I was with that possibility. He didn’t immediately follow me into the ship, disappearing into the house before returning with a large bottle of vodka. He climbed into the ship with me, starting it and flying out into the vacuum of space without a word.

He flew us to a large, mostly vacant planet, landing next to a large lake. He climbed out of the ship, grabbing the bottle of vodka before making his way down to the shore. I watched as he kicked off his shoes, tossing them to the side and pulling his pant legs up to allow the small waves to wash over his feet. He opened the bottle, pulling out two plastic cups from his lab coat and filling them both in a silent offering to join him. I considered a moment before wrenching the door open and stripping down to my underwear as I followed him down to the shore.

I picked up the plastic cup and breezed past him, making my way out into the open water. I let the cool water swirl around me, taking a long drink from the cup as I waded out further into the open expanse. A small voice in my head was pleading with me to turn around, to consider the danger of going out into open water I knew nothing about but I couldn’t bring myself to care about the danger. What was the worst that was going to happen? I stop having to deal with all of these extremely traumatic issues? Oh boy, wouldn’t that suck.

“Nova, here-”

I finished the last of my cup off, hesitantly turning to face him only to find him extending the bottle out to me. I waded back over to him, allowing him to fill the cup up before heading back out into the open water. He watched me carefully but said nothing else as I ventured out further, going in so deep I had to hold the cup above my head as I submerged myself completely in the water. I held my breath, allowing the suffocating feeling to chip away at the pain I had buried down inside. Eventually I wasn’t able to hold it any longer, letting out a long breath that bubbled around me. I resurfaced only to finish off the remnants of the cup before tossing it aside and submerging myself again. I swam deeper under the water, ignoring the burning in my lungs. The pain soothed me in a demented way so I swam deeper and deeper to allow it to incapsulate me. My body wouldn’t allow it however and despite my desires to stay, my legs kicked me back to the surface.

“Nova, what in the fuck are you doing?” Rick called from the shore. To my surprise, he was much further away then when I went under. I started reluctantly swimming back but my head was spinning from the alcohol and my limbs were tired. I barely made it back to the shore line, coughing up water as I crawled up on the beach.

“I was fine,” I slurred at Rick coldly, grabbing the plastic cup he was holding out of his hand and refilling it.

“The fuck are you doing, Nova? Are you trying to drown yourself out there?” he demanded, glaring furiously at me.

“No, Rick. I’m not a fucking idiot. I was just swimming,” I told him dismissively. What did he care anyway? He was doing everything he possibly could to distance himself from me anyway. I drank deeply from Rick’s cup, finishing it off before handing it back to him before heading back out into the water.

“Nova- Stop!” he bellowed, grabbing my arm. I glared at him as I pulled my arm away from him, heading back into the water despite his concerns.

“Leave me alone, Rick,” I murmured coldly, stumbling back out into the water.

“The fuck, Nova?” he demanded again, reaching for my arm again. I dodged clumsily, falling into the water as he sighed in exasperation. “Do you seriously want to die, Nova? Because it sure as fuck seems like it.”

“The fuck do you care?” I spat at him, my speech slurred.

“Wh-What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, infuriated. “Everything we’ve been through- You think I don’t fucking care if you fucking die all of a sudden?”

“I-It’s not all of a sudden,” I mumbled stubbornly, “Y-You’re the one being fucking weird.”

“Oh, I’m the weird one,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. “J-J-Just get out of the fucking water and tell me what the fuck’s going on with you.”

“You wanna know what’s going on with me?” I asked, unsuccessfully attempting to pull myself back to my feet only to fall back down with a splash. “My fucking husband is dead, my parents found me because of it and they’re probably dead too, not that I want you to confirm or deny that, mainly because I was too much of a bitch to just fucking tell you to do it.”

“A-A-Alright, why don’t you come back up here,” he sighed, wading out into the water to pull me over his shoulder and carry me back to the beach. His touch was surprisingly gentle and my chest ached when he rested me back down on the shore and moved away.

“Why don’t you want me anymore?” I asked, eyes brimming with tears. His eyes bulged at the question, looking at me incredulously.

“Okay, so you are clearly fucking trashed if that’s what you think,” he said flatly.

“You don’t want anything to do with me anymore,” I sobbed, unable to look at him. “ E-Ever since everything happened and my nightmares stopped you’ve been so distant. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me.” Rick opened his mouth to answer when a large spotlight opened over us. Rick and I covered our eyes against the harsh light as it grew closer, landing next to us. A hodgepodge group exited a flashy ship and Rick groaned as realization dawned over his face.

“Rick Sanchez?” a deep feminine voice called out. A female form made up of an actual galaxy hovered toward us, the disdain on her face at the sight of Rick mirrored on the faces of her companions.

“A-Are you fucking kidding me?” Rick growled as the woman came to a stop in front of him. “What in the hell do you assholes want? I’m a little fucking busy right now.”

“H-Hey buddy, who’s this?” a charming voice called from behind the galaxy woman, as a man watched me cautiously.

“R-Rick, who are they?” I asked nervously, my head spinning from the bright lights and alcohol. I clung to Rick’s arm desperately and he pulled me closer into him, gently massaging my arm in an attempt to soothe me.

“Th-They’re the Vindicators,” Rick explained, his irritation evident in every syllable. “They’re a team of ‘superheroes’ that Morty and I helped out a while back.”

“Hello,” the galaxy woman greeted me cordially, “What is your name?”

“I-I-I’m N-Nova,” I stammered, feeling miniscule under her piercing gaze.

“Ah, that’s interesting,” she smirked, looking around at her companions. Rick groaned again, shaking his head in disgust as she continued, “My name is Supernova and as Rick said, we are a team of superheroes.”

“Wh-What?” I sputtered, looking to Rick again to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate joke. He met my gaze briefly, shrugging in response to my wordless confusion. “D-Did my nickname-”

“N-No, I didn’t even know her when you got that nickname,” Rick explained quickly, “It’s just a really annoying coincidence.”

“I’m Vance Maximus,” the charming man introduced himself with a suave grin, his wandering gaze making me all too aware of how exposed I was. Rick quickly took notice, offering me his lab coat to return some semblance of dignity to me while shooting daggers at Vance.

“This is Million Ants, Alan Rails, and Crocubot,” Supernova continued, naming off the final three people surrounding her. I nodded in acknowledgement, recoiling into Rick as the large ghost man called Alan approached us.

“Look Rick, Worldender’s back. We need your help,” he explained reluctantly.

“Why the fuck do I care? You were the ones that didn’t like my methods,” Rick shot back, “Y-Y-You really upset my grandson you know, he really liked you guys.”

“Oh, I remember that kid,” Vance remarked looking around at the other Vindicators, “Wh-Why don’t you bring him then. I’m sure he’d like that.”

“I’m not helping you assholes,” Rick told them flatly, opening a portal into Morty’s bedroom and withdrawing the boy desperately trying to pull his pants up.

“H-Hey Rick, y-y-you can’t just do that, okay?” he chastised his grandfather through beet red cheeks. “I-I-I’m fourteen, y-y-ya know? I have things I have to take care of-”

“Morty, for the love of me, shut the fuck up,” Rick swore. Morty finally noticed the Vindicators standing behind Rick, his eyes going wide as all of the color drained from his face.

“H-Hey kid,” Vance waved awkwardly, not meeting Morty’s gaze. “You, uh, you wanna go on an adventure with us to put an end to Worldender?”

“O-Oh shit, go on another adventure with the Vindicators? O-O-Of course, Vance,” Morty gushed, his hero worship washing away his embarrassment, much to Rick’s disgust.

“Go ahead and go with them Morty, get them off my back,” Rick scowled, turning to walk back to his ship.

“Rick, we need your help more than we need Morty,” Supernova pressed, hovering in front of Rick to stop him. “No offense kid.”

“Look, I’ve got way better things to do than to hang around you cliches. Sanchez, out.” Rick pushed past her pulling his ship door open with one last look over his shoulder at me.

“Rick, m-maybe we should help them?” I suggested hesitantly, earning a growl. “We haven’t done any adventuring for a long time.”

“L-Look, Nova, you wanna go with them, fine, but I’m not putting up their paper thin personalities and one dimensional ‘problems.’ I’d tell you to have fun but you won’t. Oh, and watch out for Vance.” He slammed his door, turning over his engine and shooting off into space, leaving Morty and I to watch until he disappeared in the horizon.

“H-H-He just left us?” I murmured, wrapping his coat around me tightly. He had to be coming back, right?

“He does that Aunt Nova, you’ll get used to it,” Morty grumbled, turning back to the Vindicators.

“H-He just left me here?” I whimpered again, tears filling my eyes as I stared up into the dark sky in disbelief, expecting him to reappear any second.

“Come on, Aunt Nova. Let’s just get out of here.”

They led us onto their ship, taking us back to an admittedly luxurious commandship. We were offered seperate rooms and allowed to get acclimated. I took the opportunity to change into new clothes, a clean white tee shirt and loose shorts before we were led to their conference room to be briefed on the mission at hand. I kept Rick’s lab coat on, clinging to it desperately as though it would miraculously make Rick appear the tighter I tucked it around my body.

A new hero, introduced to us as Noob Noob, gushed about finally being invited on an adventure and was surprisingly eager to learn about Morty and I. They offered us a wide spread of food, though only Morty and Vance dug in. The rest of the Vindicators weren’t much for human food, with Million Ants being a colony of ants and Crocobot being, well, a robot crocodile. My head was still reeling from the alcohol sloshing around in my stomach and just the smell of the food sent me running for the toilet.

“Aunt Nova?” Morty called from behind me hesitantly as I wiped the leftover vodka away and pushed myself away from the no longer pristine toilet bowl. I turned to face him weakly, flushing away the contents of my stomach as I pulled myself off the floor and stumbled over the sink to clean myself up.

“What’s up, Morty?”

“Aww, jeez, are you okay? You don’t look so good,” he asked, inching further into the bathroom to get a better look at me. “Look, Rick probably won’t come back for us until later. He really hates the Vindicators, especially Vance.”

“I’m not worried about Rick, Morty. I could give a shit less what he does,” I lied, staring into the mirror trying to convince myself it was the truth.

“Good, Rick’s not worth it. After everything that you’ve been through, you don’t need more piled on from him,” Morty fumed, “Rick doesn’t care about anyone. I hate to say it, but it was only a matter of time until you stopped being new and shiny to him.” I turned to face him, tears burning in my eyes at his words.

“I know you and your grandpa have a tough history but you don’t know shit about our relationship,” I shot back at him. “He’s done a lot for you and me, whether you realize it or not.”

“He left you and my mom before and he’s doing it again right now. Rick doesn’t care about anyone but himself,” he repeated, driving his point home. I stared at him blankly, my mouth agape as I tried to formulate some kind of retort but nothing came out. “I-I’m sorry, Aunt Nova, but you needed to know. I don’t want you to get hurt any more than you already have.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Morty,” I glared at him. “I’m going to go sleep this shit off, I’ll see you in the morning.” I pushed past him, ignoring his continued arguments as I stumbled into my room, slamming the door in his face.

I collapsed onto the bed, covering myself Rick’s lab coat in a sad attempt at comforting myself. His scent encapsulated me, making it almost impossible to ignore the constant replays of my argument with Rick that my brain was insistent on focusing on. Rick wasn’t good with his feelings but how hard was it to offer any kind of reassurance? And for him to try to say I was the one being weird, only to disappear on me yet again was just the worst kind of joke imaginable. Maybe it was only fun for him while he had an enemy to fight against in the form of Ryan and now that there was no immediate danger his interest was waning. Tears sprung out in earnest at the thought and I threw the coat away from me in disgust, turning away from it only to end up crying myself to sleep for what felt like the hundredth night in a row.

*+*

“Rick! What are you doing here?!” Morty shrill voice woke me up. I shot up in my bed, my entire body aching from the little bit of sleep I had managed. “Y-Y-You need to go, you really upset Aunt Nova, you know.”

“Why in the hell do you think I came back,” the gruff voice I was so desperate to hear growled. “Which room is she in?” His voice grew louder as he got closer to my room, much to Morty’s ire.

“Just go home, Rick,” Morty scolded his grandfather from outside of my door.

“I’m going to apologize to her, then I’m going to solve this Worldender shit and then I’m going home. I wasn’t going to just leave her here with these assholes, y-y-you idiot.”

“Leave Aunt Nova alone. She doesn’t need any more of your shit. She spent the entire night crying, y-y-you know? Why can’t you just go ahead and leave her for good so she can move on with her life.” It was now or never, Morty was close to hitting a nerve in Rick. I stood up quickly, heading straight for the door to break up the fight. My hand hovered over the button to open it when Rick spoke again.

“Look, Morty, you don’t know shit about what Nova needs,” Rick sneered, “You’re out here doing all this talking for her, why don’t we just ask her what she wants.”

I pressed the button, finding Morty wearing a vest with the Vindicator’s logo and Rick looking like his head was going to explode from all of his contained rage. Morty looked up at me, his anger painted over his features as I gestured for Rick to come in. Rick grinned smugly at the boy, pushing past him and pulling me into the room with him. He closed the door in Morty’s face, his facade dropping as he pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly.

“R-Rick, I can’t- I can’t breathe,” I sputtered, trying to gently free myself from his grasp.

“Nova, are you okay? I shouldn’t have left, I just-”

“Your lab coat is over there, you can take it and go,” I interrupted, not interested in whatever excuse he had lined up. He stiffened, not meeting my gaze as he grabbed it, sliding it on before sitting down on the bed.

“Y-You know, I couldn’t just leave you here with these assholes. I was really upset but if you need me to be there for you then, well, here I am.”

“That’s nice and all Rick, but don’t do me any favors,” I rolled my eyes, heading into my bathroom to get ready to face the rest of the ship’s inhabitants. Everyone had heard me crying, but I didn’t need to go out there and make it so blatantly obvious.

“I-It’s not a favor. I fucked up but I’m here now,” he insisted, standing up and moving closer to me. I rebuffed, moving out of his reach for a towel as his hand grazed my elbow. As desperately as I wanted to see him, having him here in front of me right now trying to apologize was just infuriating.

“I see that,” I murmured coldly, pushing past him and out of the room entirely. I wanted to forgive him, I knew he hadn’t meant it as a slight against me personally but every ache in my body reminded me that I just spent the entire night sobbing my eyes out over him. I pushed past him, making my way out into the conference room to find Morty talking to Vance as the rest of the Vindicators poured over a map.

“A-Aunt Nova,” Morty blurted as I walked into the room, “A-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Morty, just hungry. Is there anything to eat?” I mumbled groggily, looking around the room blankly.

“I think I can help you out there little missy,” Vance interjected, extending a hand to lead me into the dining hall. “We’ve already eaten but there should be some pancakes left.”

“I don’t care what I eat, I’m just starving,” I assured him, following him into the kitchen.

“You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to who isn’t a psychotic scientist, you can always call me up,” he told me with a smile as he pulled out the leftovers from breakfast.

“I’m good, thanks,” I assured him flatly. He gave me a ‘you don’t know what you’re missing’ smile as he microwaved some sausages and pulled out a pan to start a fresh plate of pancakes.

“I’m just saying, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need to put up with that crazy old coot if you want someone to make you feel good,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at me lecherously. I stared at him for a moment, wondering what kind of death wish he had before turning on my heel to search for the gallon of coffee it would take for me to know how to process this conversation.

“Vance, you’re needed out here.” Alan Rails appeared in the doorway, waving to Vance as he plated my pancakes and slid them over to me on the counter.

“Think about it,” he winked before following Alan back out into the meeting room. Under the plate, I found a holographic card with his contact information. I groaned at it, tossing it in the trash before plating the rest of my breakfast and grabbing my coffee. I opted to just eat in the kitchen, not wanting to subject myself to more of Vance’s misguided flirting. Shouting erupted from the adjacent room, Rick storming into the kitchen to find me looking less than amused as he fumed.

“These fucking assholes, and Morty- Can you believe he buys into their crap?” he ranted, glaring at the door behind him. “H-H-He used to think the shit I did was incredible. These paper mache personalities show up and suddenly I’m chopped fucking liver. Ungrateful little shit.”

“Maybe if you weren’t constantly yelling at him and telling him you thought he was worthless, maybe he would be more akin to you,” I mused flatly, taking a pointed bite out of my sausage.

“Oh, not you too,” he groaned. “You like these assholes? You think they’re super fucking fascinating or something too? They share the same five fucking personality traits in different shiny exteriors. They’re about as deep as a shower.”

“I don’t care about them either way,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “You seem to get really worked up about them though, you ever thought of working through that or something?”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk about working through anything,” Rick shot back clumsily. I stared at him for a moment, allowing him to find the flaw in his own logic. “Whatever Nova, these guys aren’t shit. Six of them and they can’t even kill a garbage villain like Worldender by themselves.”

“I don’t see you taking care of him either, Rick.”

“You’re just full of wise hangover wisdom today, aren’t you?” Rick fumed, storming out of the kitchen to leave me in peace to finish my breakfast. It was easier just to antagonize him while he was angry, a trick I’d learned watching him work on his gadgets. If he got mad enough, his stubborn determination would overcome his self doubt and he would end up victorious over whatever insignificant detail holding him back.

“Nova, will you be joining us tomorrow?” Supernova asked, hovering through the door.

Would I get no peace this morning?

“Y-Y-Yea, I don’t see what not,” I sputtered, finding myself enamoured by all of the beautiful colors she was made up of.

“Is that because you are able to help us, or because you are going with Rick?” she asked coolly, watching my face carefully.

“Why is everyone so interested in my relationship with Rick?” I snapped, “I was here before Rick decided to show up, if I’m going with anyone, I’m going with Morty.” Supernova nodded, ignoring my outburst as she considered a moment.

“I was just concerned, as you do not show any outward abilities that would come to our aide.”

“Neither does Morty.”

“This is not a babysitting mission,” she asserted, “We cannot guarantee your safety.”

“I don’t need your guarantees,” I shrugged. “Rick will be there, he’s got a knack for keeping me safe.”

“Alright, if you are aware of the dangers,” Supernova conceded, turning to leave.

“Thanks for the concern,” I grumbled, returning to my coffee. The door swung rhythmically as she exited and I knew if I wanted any peace and quiet I was going to have to hide. I slunk down against the metal cabinets, sipping my coffee slowly as my head throbbed. The silence lulled me into a stupor, and combined with my now full stomach, my eyes drifted shut for a moment until I had completely drifted off.

*+*

“H-Hey, time to wake up,” Noob Noob said, shaking me awake. At some point I had allowed myself to splay out on the floor, spreading out in the most comfortable possible position. I straightened up quickly, my eyes bleary as they tried to focus in on Noob Noob. “We’ve been looking all over for you. You know that floor is filthy, right?”

“I was just really tired,” I told him sleepily, “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“We heard,” he assured me bluntly, my cheeks flushing. “Do you need a change of clothes? Or a shower? I can accommodate with whatever you need.”

“I think I’ll just head back to my room,” I assured him, shaking my head. “Do you know where Rick is? Or more importantly, can you help me get back to my room without him following me?”

“Rick? Oh, he’s been drinking all morning. I think he’s passed out in the conference room.” Noob Noob grabbed my hand, pulling me up off the floor and leading me out into the kitchen. “Follow me, I’ll get you back.”

Noob Noob led me through the dining area, motioning for me to stop as we came up to the conference room. He peered in, looking around before grabbing my hand again and pulling me through the room swiftly. I spotted Rick drunkenly rambling at the TV in front of him, fortunately not noticing when we passed. Noob Noob stopped at my door, smiling as I thanked him for his assistance. I was grateful when he departed quickly, disappearing down the hall as I closed the door. I could feel the filth he’d mentioned, climbing into the shower to rinse it off along with the lake water that had saturated my hair last night.

The shower helped me feel a little better, revitalizing me as I climbed out only to find my clothes missing. They had been replaced with a Vindicators uniform and a small note from Noob Noob explaining that he had taken them to be washed. I pulled on the spandex uniform, surprised at how comfortable it was, even if it did put every single one of my curves on full display. I climbed back into bed, closing my eyes as I forced myself to just go to sleep.

+Ch3: Scene Of The Crime+

#rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty fanfiction #Rick Sanchez/reader

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wikipedyke · 5 years

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that time i did acid at a bassnectar show in atlantic city in april 2017

We took our tabs at 6:45ish on the boardwalk in front of the Guy Fieri restaurant, with its speakers blaring about “mac and cheese and an ice cold beer right now.” Walking up to convention center, a straight shot from the beach, we ran into a series of other bassheads. As we approached, a woman pushing a stroller sauntered in the opposite direction of the Convention Center, laughing and hollering, “they takin’ off people shoes. Y’all betta tuck that shit!” A few people turned around. It was 7:30ish when we got up to the doors. Security was packed. Too many people, super early in the night, so much drugs. The security staff had increased exponentially since last night. All the girls got through no problem, but Joey had the bag and had to be searched. Six excruciating minutes later, our dab pen was confiscated but at least Joey still got to come inside, with our joints still hidden in the backpack rain cover. I thumbed through my Kandi rosary as I came up. After sitting under some purple lights for a bit, we decided to wait out our come up outside in the smoking section. The sun was just about finished setting and a gradient of oranges, teals, blues, and navies appeared as night faded in. We sucked down cigarettes and looked around at all the ridiculous outfits of the people in front of us. Just before the peak hit we made our way inside, silly putty and bubbles in hand. CASPA was playing when we got settled again. We made our home in the northeastern corner of the right hand jumbotron. A couple standing in front of us let us play with their light stick and introduced themselves as “Vinny and Molly from the west coast”. Vinny had the most contented look on his face all night and Molly looked like drugs. The stick shone bright in yellows, reds, and oranges, a fire that burned white when you shook it. Behind Joey stood a dynamic duo, a large black man with a Bear fur spirit hood and a long haired white dude with a bionic arm. At one point in the night, I watched The Bear roll a blunt on a tiny rolling tray while dancing and jammin’ the fuck out, never missing a beat. Later in the night, The Bear handed us a blunt and told us to “pass that shit around,” rubbing our faces lovingly with his bear fur and making wookie noises. By the time Bassnectar came on, the crowd was Fucked Up. As the audience raged and the drugs flowed, so did the music. The putrid smell of cigarettes, sweat, and ass swirled around us while visions of LEDs and strobes and animation danced in our heads. The floor was slippery with spilt french fries and alcohol. I held myself up with The Stick. At one point I took down my hair and shook that shit out as hard as I could in my best Lorin homage. Thoughts raced through my mind like “they don’t want us to do this stuff, and that’s why we gotta!” and “this is my opportunity to let it all out.” We hollered and yelled, kicked and punched at the air, releasing as much tension as possible into the abyss of pumping bass and blinking lights. When the sensory overload became too strong, Rachel, Becca, and I took a moment to escape the pit. We sought out fresh air in the smoking section but it was dirty and scary and brown, like a bottle filled with used cigarettes and tar-infused water, like CRANK. We scurried back inside and took refuge in The Haven, a day care center full of fuchsia and orange Air Couches. An ambassador came over to check on us and offer us water as other festival goers recovered all around us. Do we look THAT fucked up? I asked myself. Before we could get permanently trapped there, we moved back towards the music room and sat against the back wall. A grown man with a long ponytail danced in front of us dressed as a fairy, his tulle cape floating around him and his antennae headband bounced freely as he bopped around. It was all too much when he flounced over to his friends, also bearing antennae and platform shoes. Finally we worked up the nerve to return to our friends, who were still deep in the thick of it. I remember wondering if people we dressed like that because this was an expression of their true inner self or because that’s how they thought they should dress. We passed another Fairy, a Cow, and a few Unicorns as we trekked across the concrete floor. Bassnectar was amazing from start to finish. “Yo, I’ve never been to a party like this,” he shouted into the mic, met by our cheers. After two encores, the convention center’s fluorescent lights finally came on. The whole crowd looked around with bewilderment. “What do we do now?” was on everyone’s faces. It seemed no one had a plan for escaping the convention center, not us and not anyone else. We wandered around looking for the exits. “OH GOD YES!! The door!” yelled a dude behind us. We shuffled aimlessly towards what we hoped were the stairs, pushing our way forward until a Basshead in front of us cried, “You’ve gone too far, turn back!!” It seemed we were all shuffling toward another wall. By the time we turned around and made it to the stairs, so had everyone else from the room. In a moment of terror, Joey and Rachel got separated from us. We couldn’t tell where they were or if they were together. Huddling around a tall pole, we hugged and cheered when we were reunited. Hollers and whoops rang out through the lobby as we finally crossed the threshold of the front door with a mild sense of “we’re okay! We’re out!”. Just a sea of fucked up people greeted us, spilling out over the sidewalk and swarming into the streets. “I’m walkin’ here!” I shouted as cabs moved toward us with no regard. A nearby dude filled in the rest of the monologue from the Rick and Morty episode for us, laughing and waving. We moved toward the beach with the rest of the crowd, unable to do much of anything else. “There’s no charge left, Morty! How are we gonna get home?” asked a Rick of the crowd, brandishing his device. His costume was on point, as was his impression. Ben, Jamie, and Tim appeared beside us at a crosswalk, sucking down nitrous balloons and lookin’ fucked up. “You want some? This is the hard level,” Tim said, offering a baloon to Rachel. She turned him down meekly and we scurried away as quickly as we could. At the next intersection, cars streamed past through the green light as we waited for our turn. “Cars don’t give a fuck about you,” Becca reminded us as an ambulance screamed by. A red jeep with eight or so passengers pulled up stopped in the middle of the intersection, despite the green light. They all laughed and pulled out their phones to take pictures of us, thousands of Bassheads spilling out everywhere and dressed all crazy. “Fuck you,” we shouted back, ensuring that we’d end up on someone’s Snapstory. Finally on the boardwalk, we tried to find a place to chill, away from the sober people and the fucked up people alike. Becca, Ty, Rachel and I were exhausted and mildly afraid, ready to escape to the safety of our hotel. Joey and Alyssa played in the sand while we formulated plan. My phone turned into a creature with a life of its own, difficult to look at and even harder to navigate. I wasn’t sure if the phone was broken or I was. We were all distracted and addled. At one point we all lay down on a concrete block, trying to decide if we should stay out in the Casino city or go home. “This is why we need to just go home,” someone called, before we could get trapped there. After several failed attempts to gather ourselves, we finally got Lyft to work. Our driver called to ask our location and if our destination was in Atlantic City. “Yes,” I knowingly lied as I sent him directions to the Red Roof Inn in Absecon, just outside the city limits. “At least we didn’t ask to go to Brooklyn,” I hissed to Becca with the phone still on. When we all finally piled in the car, all I wanted was to get out. I was so afraid he would realize we’d lied or see just how fucked up we were and boot us out as we drove through the projects.

At a stoplight, a woman beside us answered a cell phone. “You call Josh’s phone?” she asked. “I sure hope so,” responded Alyssa through the open window. The woman shot back a death glare, the light staying red for eternity. Everyone burst into laughter, even the driver. At long last the light turned and we sped off. We drove over the bridges and through the wetlands. “It’s probably not very healthy but it’s happy to be here,” chimed Alyssa. Driving through the cool night air, some of the burning intensity of trip waned. Pulling up to the hotel, a wave of relief washed through me. Inside, a Basshead was crawling on the furniture and another lit some incense on the hotel counter. Unaffected, we climbed into the elevator. Back in our rooms, we shed our sweat soaked clothes. Ice-cold Gatorade soothed our throats, sore from screaming and cheering and smoking. We gathered our weed and coloring supplies and met up in the other room. We lay in piles on the beds, scribbling in our coloring books and talking about everything. How dirty our rooms were, how dirty that set was, how fucked up everyone was. Eventually we decided it was time for weed, so we grabbed a joint and went down out back. In the elevator, a handful of other bassheads headed downstairs to do the same. “Where is that music coming from?” I asked looking around. We all laughed as one of them held up a speaker. No longer were Bassheads climbing all over the lobby, but a dude with long hair and a psychedelic tee shirt sat behind the front desk. Outside we chatted with the rotating cast of characters who came down to let off some steam. A squirrely dude sat down with a full rig and torch set up, telling us how he got it all inside and dabbed right in front of the staff. “I’m not really sure what this is,” he admitted, “if it’s CBD or THC.” We all abstained, except of course Joe. Squirrely Dude was buggin us out. Matt the Ketamine Kid came down to smoke. A girl stuck her head out the window of her room. “Y’all got any liquor?” We all just stared back incredulously and mumbled “no.” Matt asked if I could hold his cigarette while he ran upstairs. When he came back he had a girl in tow and a sweatshirt on. I handed him back his cigarette, a surprise that he discovered at least two more times. “Y’all have anything to drink that isn’t sugar?” he asked, wanting to keep his roll going. We all declined. Becca led the group in returning to our room, comforted by the weed and ready to lie down again. Back in our room we decided we could take a few dabs, anything to turn down the effects of the acid still raging in our minds. I must not have looked at the size of mine carefully. I dabbed myself out and stood up coughing, dibadubed, and scrubadubbed over to Becca, shuffling my small feet as I went in for a snuggle. Becca took Rachel and I back to our room, where we used the last of our energy to gather our belongings so we wouldn’t have to pack when we woke up to go home in a few hours. Rainbows clouded my vision as I tried to figure out what was happening. Big eyes stared back at me from the mirror while I took off my makeup and I quickly looked away. We turned on the TV to find a honey-baked ham being sliced. Cackling, we watched that infomercial and then two more. We clicked through the channels, passing ads for “Metal Garden Hoses” and late night political talk shows. We finally settled on the weather channel, it’s Doppler radar maps soothing with their repetitive motion, simple colors, and calming music. When the reports of Midwestern flooding and tornadoes became too much, we turned to a channel labeled “NO SERVICE” and watched the black screen fuzz back and forth. Finally, we turned off the TV and fell asleep as the sun rose, turning the sky over Atlantic City a pale pinky blue.

#acid #lsd #bassnectar #atlantic city #basslantic #drugs #fucked up #weed #joints #dabs #ketamine #molly #edm #original content #my writing #this is one of the things im most proud of writing

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letsoveranalyzerickandmorty · 6 years

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Episode 1: “Pilot”

At the behest of absolutely no one, I have painstakingly gone through the entire first episode of Rick and Morty with the express purpose of transcribing every line and jotting down every action that fell within the following categories. The purpose of this information is to serve as either a topic of character analysis or as a reference for fanwork.

For both Rick and Morty, I’ve organized various lines and actions into the following categories:

Every Stutter: This category includes every time a character stumbled on at least one word. For example: “Y-you realize that nighttime makes up half of all time.”

Every Reworded Sentence: This is a little different from stuttering, because it includes times in which a character intentionally interrupted themselves and started wording something in a different way. For example: “Morty! You’ve gotta- Come on.”

Every “Rick”/”Morty”: Pretty self-explanatory. This category includes every time Rick said Morty’s name and vice versa.

Every Swear Word: Again, pretty self-explanatory. This category includes every time Rick and Morty use a swear word.

Every Friendly Contact w/ Rick/Morty: This category makes a note of every time Rick or Morty make physical contact with the other in a friendly or gentle manner, such as shoulder touching, hugs, etc.

Every Aggressive Contact w/ Rick/Morty: This category makes a note of every time Rick or Morty make physical contact with the other in a more aggressive or painful manner, such as shoving, manhandling, hitting, etc.

The character-specific categories are as follows:

Every Belch: This category is unique to Rick, and includes every time he belches in an episode.

Every Drink: This category is also unique to Rick, and includes every time he can be seen drinking alcohol.

Every “Oh Geez”: This category is unique to Morty, and includes every time he utters “oh geez” in an episode.

I’ve organized all of this information into nice, bulleted lists below the “Read More,” but if you’re not interested in the data itself and just want a low-down on the results, here are the main things I noticed:

Analysis of Rick

Rick’s speech is noticeably worse the drunker he is. His lines towards the beginning of the episode during the classic “I had to make a bomb” scene involve far more stuttering and rephrasing per sentence than his dialogue in the rest of the episode. In addition to being more frequent, he appears to get stuck on words for longer stretches of time. Regardless of sobriety, I noticed that he frequently stumbles over words like “I,” “you,” and “what.”

As far as rephrasing of sentences goes, Rick stops mid-sentence to reword what he’s saying far more often than Morty does. I recorded him doing this about 14 times this episode.

Rick says Morty’s name many, MANY more times than Morty says Rick’s. In this episode in particular, it was practically every other line, and oftentimes multiple times in a single sentence. Most of the time, it comes at the end of the sentence.

Rick swears a lot less in this episode than I would have thought. He says “Hell” a grand total of three times, and “ass” exactly once.

Rick belches several times throughout this episode, often in the middle of a word. Most of the time, it appears to be on a vowel. Sometimes, he’ll attempt to repeat the word he belched on, but other times (particularly on one-syllable words), he’ll just continue on talking.

Rick makes two successful attempts to drink straight from a bottle labeled “XXX” at the beginning of the episode while visibly intoxicated already. He briefly pulls out his flask close to the end of the cold open (that is to say, shortly before the opening song) but passes out and drops it before he can bring it to his lips. This is the only appearance of his flask in this episode.

In terms of positive physical contact, Rick is basically always the one to initiate. When it comes to being gentle or supportive, Rick will frequently place one or both hands on Morty’s shoulders, occasionally kneeling down so their eyes are level. Twice, he places his hand on Morty’s back in what appears to be a supportive gesture, once as they’re about to go through interdimensional customs, and once while Morty is catching his breath. Near the end of the episode, he places a hand on Morty’s shoulder and pets his hair several times while talking to Beth and Jerry.

On the flip side of that coin, Rick also has a tendency to manhandle Morty a lot. He spends a lot of time forcefully dragging Morty around. Sometimes it’s because Morty is falling behind, but other times it seems it’s just because Morty is hesitant to go somewhere. On multiple occasions, he grabs Morty tightly by the arms and shakes him around, even to the point of physically lifting him off of the ground. If he wants Morty to look at something, he doesn’t just point; he’ll physically push Morty in the direction that he wants him to focus his attention. He also grabs Morty by the shirt a lot, both from the front and from the back. When he grabs Morty by the front of the shirt, it’s generally to pull him closer, whereas grabbing him from the back is typically to drag him along somewhere.

Analysis of Morty

Morty appears to stutter more when he’s frantic, be that from anxiety, pain, or fear for his life.

Morty doesn’t seem to rephrase his sentences a lot, at least not in this episode. I only counted one instance of it here, and that’s close to the beginning of the episode when he’s absolutely exhausted and informing his parents that he didn’t get a lot of sleep the previous night.

Morty says Rick’s name a lot, but not nearly as often as Rick says his. Typically, he’ll use Rick’s name after short, simple phrases such as “That’s it,” “Oh man,” or “Oh geez,” whereas Rick will scatter Morty’s name throughout much longer sentences.

Morty doesn’t swear in this episode, or if he does, I missed it.

Morty says “oh geez” a grand total of seven times in this episode. Four of those times were right before someone’s name. (Interestingly, the first time he ever says “Oh geez” is not an “Oh geez, Rick,” but instead “Oh geez, Frank!”) Of those four times, one was before Frank’s name, two were Rick, and one was “Oh geez, dad!” in reference to Jerry. Two ended in “okay,” and one was said in the midst of the mega seeds taking away his motor functions.

Morty doesn’t initiate friendly physical contact with Rick even once throughout this episode unless you count clinging to Rick for his life while hanging from a ship. On the contrary, there are two occasions in which he shoves Rick off of him or bats his hands away, in addition to the one time he attempts to wrest control of the ship from Rick before Rick blows up the Earth with a neutrino bomb. Notably, even when he’s fighting Rick for control of the ship, his kicking doesn’t appear particularly hard; he doesn’t seem to be attempting to cause Rick any lasting harm even in the face of certain doom.

Another thing I noticed that isn’t entirely related to any of these categories is that Morty is EXTREMELY quick to forgive Rick at this point in the series. When he breaks his legs and ends up writhing in pain on the ground, he seems incredibly angry at Rick initially, only to immediately thank him and be happy to help once the bone-healing serum is administered and the pain goes away. Despite everything, he goes out of his way to verbally defend Rick from his parents’ wrath at the end of the episode.

If you’re interested in seeing me do this for more episodes, feel free to follow; I set up this side-blog for that exact purpose. In addition, if you are, in fact, interested in seeing all of the exact lines that I transcribed either for reference or for your own analysis, you can check them out below the cut:

Rick

Every Stutter

“Y-you gotta come with me.”

“What d’ya- What d’ya think of this fffflying vehicle, Morty?”

“I had to- I had to do- I had to- I had to- I had to make a bomb, Morty.”

“I-I get what you’re trying to say, M-morty.”

“Listen, I’m not- Y-you don’t gotta worry about me tryin’ to fool around with-with Jessica, or mess around with Jessica or anything.”

“I’m-I’m not that kinda guy, Morty.”

“You-you-you don’t have to worry about me getting with Jessica, or anything.”

“It- She-she-she-she’s all for you, Morty.”

“She-she’s probably nothing but trouble, anyways.”

“Get o- Get off of me, Morty!”

“Wh-what’s gotten into you?”

“I’ll-I’ll-I’ll land.”

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Y-you know what, Mo-”

“Y-you realize that nighttime makes up half of all time.”

“I’ll tell you som- I’ll tell you how-how I feel about school, Jerry.”

“G-guy up front says ‘two plus two,’ people in the back say ‘four,’ then the- then the bell rings and they give ya’ a carton of milk and a piece of paper that says you can go take a dump or something…”

“I mean, it’s a- it’s not a place for smart people, Jerry.”

“I’ve got an errand to run in-in a whole different dimension!”

“I mean, we got- we gotta get-get the Hell out of here and go take care of business!”

“They’re-they’re- (belch) They’re incredibly powerful, and I need ‘em to (belch) help me with my research, Morty.”

“I ne- I’ve never seen that thing before in my life, Morty!”

“Breathe that- Breathe that fresh air in, Morty.”

“That’s-that’s the smell of-of-of a whole different evolutionary timeline.”

“Wh-wh-what the Hell is that thing?”

“It doesn’t even- It-it-it defies all logic, that thing.”

“If we woulda done what-what you wanted, I never woulda never of found them, because you’re so in love with school!”

“You really d-did a number on your legs right now.”

“It was- It was a leisurely breeze.”

“Y-yeah, I can see that.”

“There were a lot of attractive women there, Morty, and they-they-they-they all wanted time with me!”

“W-w-well, somebody’s gotta do it, Morty!”

“Th-th-th-these seeds aren’t gonna get through customs unless they’re in someone’s rectum, Morty!”

“A-and they’ll fall right out of mine!”

“Y-y-you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and your anal cavity is still taut, yet malleable!”

“What new- What new machine?”

“Y-you gotta get those seeds out of your ass.”

“Y-your parents and I are very disappointed in-in-in this behavior.”

“Wh-what-what are you guys doing with my stuff?”

“Wh-wh-what are you nuts?”

“I-I-I don’t know what you mean by that!”

“C-c-could you be a little bit more specific?”

“Morty, t-tell your parents the square root of pi.”

“He-he-he needs to keep hanging out- H(belch)elping me.”

“Y-you really wear the pants around here.”

Every Reworded Sentence

“Morty! You’ve gotta- Come on.”

“When I drop the bomb, I don’t- You know, I want you to have somebody, you know.”

“Listen, I’m not- Y-you don’t gotta worry about me tryin’ to fool around with-with Jessica, or mess around with Jessica or anything.”

“It- She-she-she-she’s all for you, Morty.”

“I’ll tell you som- I’ll tell you how-how I feel about school, Jerry.”

“When you’re wearing these things, babe- These babies, you can basically just walk on any surface you want, Morty.”

“You- Look, I turned mine on.”

“But do you think you’ll still be able to help be ge(belch)t my- collect my seeds, Morty?”

“It- I was fascinating to them.”

“But I spent so much time there, my interdimensional portal device- It’s got no charge left, Morty!”

“The- It’s not gonna work anymore, Morty!”

“He-he-he needs to keep hanging out- H(belch)elping me.”

“Rick and Morty forever, and forever, a hundred years, Rick and Morty some- things!”

“Me and Rick and Morty, running around and Rick and Morty time, it- all day long, forever, all- A hundred days!”

Every “Morty”

“Morty!”

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Morty!”

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Morty!” (Not a mistake; this phrase was repeated.)

“What d’ya- What d’ya think of this fffflying vehicle, Morty?”

“Morty!”

“I had to- I had to do- I had to- I had to- I had to make a bomb, Morty.”

“I’m gonna drop it down there, and just get a whole fresh start, Morty.”

“Come on, Morty, just take it easy, Morty, it’s gonna be good.”

“And so that’s the surprise, Morty.”

“I-I get what you’re trying to say, M-morty.”

“I’m-I’m not that kinda guy, Morty.”

“It- She-she-she-she’s all for you, Morty.”

“You know what, Morty, you’re right.”

“Get o- Get off of me, Morty!”

“Alright, alright, Morty.”

“I’m gonna park right here, Morty.”

“That was all a test, Morty.”

“You know what, Mo-”

“There you are, Morty!”

“It’s pretty obvious, Morty!”

“I need your help, Morty!”

“Come on, Morty!”

“Do you have any concept of how much higher the stakes get out there, Morty?”

“I’ll do it later, Morty!”

“Alright, come on, Morty, let’s go!”

“It’s dimension 35-C, and it’s got the perfect climate conditions for a special type of tree, Morty!”

“They’re-they’re- (belch) They’re incredibly powerful, and I need ‘em to (belch) help me with my research, Morty.”

“Listen to me, Morty.”

“Now if you just stick with me, Morty, we’re gonna be-”

“Holy crap, Morty, run!”

“Run, Morty, run, Morty, run!”

“I ne- I’ve never seen that thing before in my life, Morty!”

“We’ve gotta get out of here, Morty!”

“We’re gonna die, Morty!”

“Ah, Morty, take a deep breath.”

“Breathe that- Breathe that fresh air in, Morty.”

“That’s the smell of adventure, Morty!”

“Morty, you see this?”

“You see what we just stumbled upon, Morty?”

“That’s right, Morty, the mega trees!”

“And that’s what I’m talking about, Morty!”

“You ask a lot of questions, Morty.”

“Just take these shoes, Morty.”

“When you’re wearing these things, babe- These babies, you can basically just walk on any surface you want, Morty.”

“You have to turn them on, Morty!”

“Morty!”

“You know, you’ve gotta turn the shoes on, Morty, for them to work.”

“But do you think you’ll still be able to help be ge(belch)t my- collect my seeds, Morty?”

“Hold on just a second, Morty.”

“Don’t worry about it, Morty.”

“Not that you asked, Morty, but what just happened there is I went into a future dimension with such advanced medicine that they had broken leg serum at every corner drug store!”

“The stuff was all over the place, Morty!”

“There’s just one problem, Morty.”

“The dimension I visited was so advanced that th(belch)ey had also halted the aging process, and everyone there was young, Morty.”

“I was the only old person there, Morty!”

“There were a lot of attractive women there, Morty, and they-they-they-they all wanted time with me!”

“But I spent so much time there, my interdimensional portal device- It’s got no charge left, Morty!”

“It’s as good as garbage, Morty!”

“The- It’s not gonna work anymore, Morty!”

“There’s ways to get back home, Morty, it’s- it’s just-just gonna be a little bit of a hassle.”

“When we get to customs, I’m gonna need you to take these seeds into the bathroom, and I’m gonna need you to put them way up inside your butthole, Morty.”

“W-w-well, somebody’s gotta do it, Morty!”

“Th-th-th-these seeds aren’t gonna get through customs unless they’re in someone’s rectum, Morty!”

“I’ve done this too many times, Morty!”

“You’ve gotta do it for grandpa, Morty!”

“Come on, Morty!

“Please, Morty!

“You have to do it, Morty!”

“I don’t like it here, Morty.”

“You’re a good kid, Morty.”

“It’s gonna be great, Morty!”

“Run, Morty!”

“Oh, nice, Morty!”

“I need to type in the coordinates to our home world, Morty!”

“They’re just robots, Morty!”

“It’s a figure of speech, Morty!”

“Just keep shooting, Morty!”

“Come on, Morty, we’ve gotta get the Hell out of here!”

“Come on, Morty.”

“Oh my goodness, Morty!”

“What are you trying to say about Morty?”

“Morty, t-tell your parents the square root of pi.”

“The square root of pi, Morty!”

“Morty, tell your parents the first law of th(belch)ermodynamics.”

“Morty’s a gifted child.”

“Full disclosure, Morty; it’s not.”

“And once those seeds w(belch)ear-wear off, you’re gonna lose most of your motor skills, and you’re also gonna lose a significant amount of brain functionality for 72 hours, Morty, starting r(belch)ght about now.”

“I’m sorry, Morty, it’s a bummer.”

“And then we’re gonna have to go on even more adventures after that, Morty, and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut about them, Morty, because the world is full of idiots that don’t understand what’s important, and they’ll tear us apart, Morty!”

“But if you stick with me, I’m gonna accomplish great things, Morty, and you’re gonna be part of them!”

“And together, we’re gonna run around, Morty, we’re gonna do all kinds of wonderful things, Morty!”

“Just you and me, Morty!”

“The outside world is our enemy, Morty!”

“We’re the only (belch) friends we’ve got, Morty!”

“It’s just Rick and Morty!”

“Rick and Morty and their adventures, Morty!”

“Rick and Morty forever, and forever, a hundred years, Rick and Morty some- things!”

“Me and Rick and Morty, running around and Rick and Morty time, it- all day long, forever, all- A hundred days!”

“Rick and Morty, forever, a hundred times!”

“Over and over, RickandMortyAdventures.com, www.RickandMorty.com, w-w-w, Rick and Morty Adventures, all hundred years!”

“Every minute, RickandMorty.com, w-w-w, hundred times, RickandMorty.com.”

Every Swear Word:

“Hell”

“I mean, we got- we gotta get-get the Hell out of here and go take care of business!”

“Wh-wh-what the Hell is that thing?”

“Come on, Morty, we’ve gotta get the Hell out of here!”

“Ass”

“Y-you gotta get those seeds out of your ass.”

Every Belch

“C(belch)ome- c(belch)- It’s important!”

“They’re-they’re- (belch) They’re incredibly powerful, and I need ‘em to (belch) help me with my research, Morty.”

“It makes you kind of a (belch) under(belch)- underfoot figure.”

“But do you think you’ll still be able to help be ge(belch)t my- collect my seeds, Morty?”

“The dimension I visited was so advanced that th(belch)ey had also halted the aging process, and everyone there was young, Morty.”

“I(belch)t was like I was some sort of, you know, celebrity walking around.”

“Y(belch)ou’ve gotta put these seeds inside your butt!”

“I’m gonna be able to do a(belch)ll kinds of things with ‘em!”

“A(belch)ll kinds of science!”

“Morty, tell your parents the first law of th(belch)ermodynamics.”

“He-he-he needs to keep hanging out- H(belch)elping me.”

“Okay, Jerry, you drive a hard bargain, but (belch) what am I supposed to do? Say (belch) say no?”

“We’re the only (belch) friends we’ve got, Morty!”

Every Drink

“XXX” Bottle

2 Successful

Flask

1 Attempted

Every Friendly Contact w/ Morty

Rick touches Morty’s shoulder.

Rick puts his arm around Morty’s shoulders and touches their heads together.

Rick kneels down and puts a hand on Morty’s shoulder.

Rick places one hand on Morty’s shoulder, then kneels and places the other hand on the other shoulder.

Rick places a single hand on Morty’s shoulder, then keeps one hand on Morty’s back while walking forward.

Rick puts a hand on Morty’s back while Morty catches his breath.

Rick puts an arm over Morty’s shoulder.

Rick places his hand on Morty’s shoulder and strokes his hair.

Every Aggressive Contact w/ Morty

Rick drags Morty out of bed by the ankle.

Rick pushes Morty off to prevent him from wresting control of the ship.

Rick tightly grabs both of Morty’s shoulders, yanks him closer, and shakes him.

Rick grabs Morty by the wrist and drags him away.

Rick grabs Morty by the head and pushes him forward to make him look at something.

Rick holds Morty’s eyes open.

Rick grabs Morty and shoves him to the edge of a cliff to look at something, then pulls him back away from the cliff before releasing him.

Rick grabs Morty by the front of the shirt to pull him close, then shoves him back and releases him.

Rick grabs Morty by the arms to pull him close, lifting him up off of the ground in the process, and gently shakes him while talking before putting him back down.

Rick grabs Morty by the shirt, then shoves him away hard enough that Morty appears to fall over.

Rick grabs Morty by the back of the shirt when he’s running too slowly and drags him along.

Rick grabs Morty by the back of the shirt and yanks him along through the portal.

Rick grabs Morty by the arm and drags him away from Jessica.

Morty

Every Stutter

“It’s-it’s the middle of the night!”

“Yeah, Rick, it’s-it’s great.”

“That-that-that-that’s absolutely crazy!”

“Wh-wh-wha- No, you can’t!”

“But-but-but forget about that, because you can’t blow up humanity!”

“Y-y-y-y-y-”

“I-I’m taking charge of this situation, buddy!”

“I’m- I’m pu- I’m-I’m-I’m- not gonna stand around like some sorta dumb-dumb person and-and just let you ruin the whole world!”

“Th-they’re both great!”

“L-let’s give this a shot!”

“Uh, I-I-I’m just doing my best!”

“I mean, you know, y-you kinda had things handled without it!”

“Wh-wh-wh-what’d you do to Frank?”

“I-I can’t leave school again!”

“Wh-what about Frank?”

“I-I can’t believe this!”

“Y-you-you’re a monster!”

“Y-you’re like Hitler, but-but even Hitler cared about Germany, or-or something!”

“Th-thank you!”

“Wh-wh-what’re we gonna do?”

“I-I have to be back at school right now!”

“H-how are we gonna get back home?”

“I mean, you know, I-I-I don’t wanna shoot nobody!”

“Uh, yeah, well, you know, my-my Ferrari’s in the shop!”

“J-just kidding.”

“C-come on!”

“Y-you know, that’s a lot to drop on a kid all at once.”

Every Reworded Sentence

“I just- I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Every “Rick”

“What, Rick?”

“Yeah, Rick, it’s-it’s great.”

“What are you talking about, Rick?”

“That’s it, Rick!”

“Oh, geez, Rick!”

“I don’t know, Rick.”

“Oh man, Rick!”

“Oh man, Rick!” (Not a mistake; this is separate from the last one.)

“Alright, Rick, look, how much longer is this gonna be?”

“Yeah, Rick, I get it!”

“I’m in a lot of pain, Rick!”

“That’s it, Rick!”

“Wow, Rick!”

“Sure thing, Rick!”

“Wow, that’s pretty crazy, Rick!”

“Oh, geez, Rick!”

“Oh, geez, Rick!” (Not a mistake; this is separate from the last one.)

“Yeah, Rick.”

“They’re not robots, Rick!”

“Rick just needed my help, is all!”

“Aww, come on, Rick, you know I can’t.”

“Holy cow, Rick!”

Every Swear Word

(Morty doesn’t swear in this episode.)

Every “Oh Geez”

“Oh geez, Frank!”

“Oh geez, Rick!”

“Oh geez, okay.”

“Oh geez, okay.” (Not a mistake; this is separate from the last one.)

“Oh geez, Rick!”

“Oh geez, dad!”

“Oh man, oh, oh geez, oh!”

Every Friendly Contact w/ Rick

Morty clings to Rick as Rick clings to a ship.

Every Aggressive Contact w/ Rick

Morty shoves Rick away from him.

Morty climbs on top of Rick in an effort to wrest control of the ship from him, repeatedly kicking Rick (albeit not particularly hard) in the process.

Morty smacks Rick’s hands away from him.

#rick and morty #rick and morty episode analysis #rick and morty episode 1 #rick and morty pilot

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proud-band-trash · 6 years

Text

It all happened at 11:11

“DAMMIT! I’M TRYING NOT TO BE BIASED BUT IT’S HARD WHEN I’M GETTING FUCKED IN DETAIL ON TOP OF A BATHROOM COUNTER!” Awsten screamed at Travis.

“Look over at Geoff’s face. He’s bright fucking red just from reading this. It’s kinda cute, actually.” Travis tried to distract the younger boy.

And Travis was right. Geoff was blushing like crazy, just keeping his mouth shut. Awsten looks Geoff straight in the eye to give his rating.

“I give it a 5. I got a boner from it.” Awsten cocked a smile, watching Geoff turn redder. Travis had to glance at Awsten’s crotch.

“Liar!” Travis declared. “And Geoff, what do you rate this?”

Geoff had to think for a second. “Well, it was very detailed and had good grammar-“

“THAT’S MY THING! USING GRAMMAR AS A MEANS TO RATE FANFICS!” Awsten cut him off. Geoff began to speak again.

“Shut the fuck up Awsten! Anyway, I give it a 3. It was beautifully written, but I could never act like that in real life.”

“TAKE YOUR BELT OFF AND SHUT ME UP!” Awsten yelled at the older boy, turning his face redder than ever before.

“That’s why it’s called fiction. Anyhow, now that we have our comments and ratings out of the way, would you like to say good night to all of our listeners Geoff?” Travis questioned, calmest of them all. Geoff nodded.

“Um, good night,” Geoff smirked in Awsten’s way as he said that.

“FUCK YOU MAN! Both of you need to fucking stop with that!” Awsten screamed.

“What else are we gonna say?” Travis glared at Awsten as he spoke. “Go on, Geoff.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let the Awsten bite. OW!” Geoff yelled as Awsten sneaked up next to Geoff and actually bit his arm, and sucking it while Travis laughing hysterically.

“You missed,” Travis told the purple haired boy, and tapped the side of the base of his neck. Geoff got the reference and blushed again. Awsten didn’t see it though, but he ended up taking his mouth off of the newly formed hickey on Geoff’s arm. Geoff looked at the mark, a little fear on his face from it. Awsten reached up to Geoff’s mic and grabbed it.

“GOOD NIGHT Y’ALL. I’M ENDING THIS MESS OF AN EPISODE RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW.” Awsten yelled into the mic and slammed his hand down to switch it off. Travis helped stash away the mics in Awsten’s room as Geoff sprawled out on Awsten’s bed. It didn’t take long for Awsten and Travis to shove the mics in the corner.

“Get out,” Awsten commanded once the mics were away, and the other 2 boys walked out of the house. Travis held the front door open for Geoff, Geoff murmuring a “thank you” to him. They crossed the short distance between the driveway and the door, reaching their cars.

“Good night! Take care Geoff!”

“Thanks Travis, you too!” Geoff waved as he hopped in his car. He pushed and turned the key, the ignition starting up and then… silence and darkness. Geoff grabbed his phone out of his pocket, flicking on the flashlight in the dark car, and turned the key again. No response.

“God dammit!” He shouted at the car. It stayed silent. He checked the time. 10:50 pm. There was no way any parts shop was open at this hour, and Travis had already left. He jumped out of the slightly cooler car and ran up to Awsten’s door, giving it a knock. Awsten took his time answering it.

“What do you want?” Awsten asked, slightly annoyed with a bag of popcorn in his hands.

“Can I stay at your place, just for tonight? My car won’t start and every parts shop is closed right now.” Geoff pleaded. Awsten pondered the request for a second, then stepped to the side of the door, letting Geoff in.

“Thank you so much Awsten,” Geoff pulled the smaller one in for a hug while he thanked him. Awsten didn’t hug back and just waited for Geoff to release him. The blue haired boy, once released, walked over to the couch to grab the remote to shut off the tv. He then walked Geoff up to his room.

Awsten didn’t have a guest room in his house, so he decided he’d just sleep next to Geoff. It was a king sized bed after all. “Here, just sleep next to me. I don’t have a guest room and the bed is big enough.” Geoff nods at Awsten’s command, kicking off his shoes, taking off his jeans and lying on the bed. Awsten joins him after also kicking off his shoes, and Geoff turns around to turn off the light.

Awsten passed out in seconds, while Geoff couldn’t stop thinking about his car. What was even wrong with it? Could he fix it himself or did he need a mechanic to fix it? Would he need to buy a new car? Hours passed as Geoff got lost in his thoughts. He looked over at Awsten, peacefully asleep, and wished he could be asleep too. Geoff wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and pressed his body against Awsten’s back, resting his head against Awsten’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if Awsten noticed, but he did know Awsten was still asleep. Once he was positioned, Geoff realized he’s never been as comfortable in his entire life as he was right now. Him and Awsten’s bodies fit perfectly together, and as he drifted off to sleep, he wondered if Awsten’s lips against his would be a perfect fit too.

For a few hours, there was nothing but peaceful rest. Awsten was calm in Geoff’s arms, feeling safe and protected and relaxed, and Geoff loved the feeling of the other boy in his arms, reminding him that he could get through whatever problem, no matter how big or small, with the other boy, calming him down. The night would’ve been perfect, if the boys weren’t suddenly awoken by a strange noise.

Awsten heard it first, and tensed up. “Geoff,” he wiggles his way toward Geoff and gently shook him, “Geoff! Wake up!”

Geoff blinked a couple times, eyes focusing on the purple haired boy. He blushed as he realized he was still in his arms. Awsten had a terrified look on his face, wrapping his arms around Geoff’s and clinging around the taller boy, burying his face in his chest. Before he could explain, they heard a creek. Geoff sat up at the noise, and reached for his phone on the nightstand to turn on the flashlight, Awsten still clinging to him. Geoff shone the light around the room, stopping at the doorway, seeing a shoulder approach it. More of its body became visible, and the figure came towards the light, Geoff feeling Awsten hold onto him tighter.

The figure was a light grey color, with almost translucent skin, and walked on all fours toward them, looking up at the two with small black eyes. Its head was huge, and had a thin body that looked too weak to support it. Its limbs were long and thin, and it stood up on 2 feet. While paralyzed in fear watching the first figure, some more figures walked into the room, looking slightly thicker than the other one. A light shone through their windows as 4 of the thicker figures surrounded the bed. Geoff was even getting a little scared too, holding on to Awsten tighter. Awsten could hear the other boy’s heart pound in fear as the strange creatures came closer to them. But before they could fight back, the aliens released a gas that made humans instantly sleepy, and the boys passed out in each other’s arms again. Thankfully, the aliens didn’t bother to separate them. Geoff’s last memory before falling to sleep was trying to kick one of the creatures off the bed while holding a sleepy Awsten in his arms, against his chest.

A few hours later, Awsten wakes up and looks around the ship he was taken on. Almost all of it looked like the set of a sci-fi movie. They were trapped in laser bars, being watched by more humanoid-looking beings with white lab coats and tablets. Even those existed in futuristic societies. Geoff was still asleep.

“Geoff! Wake the fuck up!” Awsten yelled. Awsten couldn’t see it, but the aliens heard and scribbled down some notes about what Awsten just did. Actually, they’re been scribbling down the boys’ every movement, but not much happened until now. Geoff blinked a couple times, feeling very cold, and sat up, shivering a little. Awsten saw it and took Geoff’s hands in his to warm them up as Geoff scanned the room.

Brrrr-ing!

Some bell must’ve gone off. The aliens immediately left the room once they heard it, making Geoff and Awsten feel much safer.

“We gotta get out! But how?” Awsten questioned Geoff. Geoff was a very good problem solver. He’d know what to do. A clank was heard as one of the aliens left the room. The item that they dropped looked very familiar. It looked like a portal gun from Rick and Morty. An idea popped in Geoff’s head.

“Do you trust me?” Geoff asked before he was gonna tell the other boy how they could get out. To Awsten however, it seemed like a very random question.

“Of course. Why?”

“Because you might think this is dumb, but it’s probably one of our only ways out. I need you to stick your hand through the bars to grab that long magnet right there,” Geoff spoke quickly. Awsten didn’t think it was dumb at all and easily grabbed the magnet. “Thank you,” Geoff spoke again. He extended the magnet towards the gun. It stuck, and he slid it right into the cage, an alien chasing after it as he did so. He may have had a pretty odd face, but he could tell that the alien was angry. And could speak English.

“I don’t have the clearance to unlock you, but if you give me back my portal gun I’ll get you out somehow.” The alien offered, and the boys thought about it for a minute.

“Nah,” Awsten replied, “We don’t have cool shit like this on Earth so we gotta fuck with it here.” Geoff stood up to press a button on the gun, pointing it towards the floor. He grabbed Awsten by the waist, leaning over the portal.

“JUMP!” Geoff commanded, and the two boys held onto each other as they closed their eyes and jumped into the portal, getting sent wherever it led. Somehow, the dimension they landed in was not very scary at all. They landed right in front of Awsten’s house. It looked abandoned, so it was possible they got the correct dimension on the first try. Awsten turned to high-five Geoff, but caught something before he did, eyes widening in fear. Geoff saw Awsten’s expression, and cautiously turned around.

A voice popped in both of their heads suddenly. “You’re not from this dimension.” The two boys stared at it in fear. It was the alien who they stole the portal gun from. And a few of his friends. And they did not look happy.

Geoff looked down at the portal gun in his hand, and immediately noticed a small screen. In the corner of it, there was a battery icon. And it appeared to be running low. Him and Awsten may not have noticed it originally, but now they did. They had to run if they wanted to live.

They headed downtown this dimension, hoping that someone would see them getting attacked and help. It was almost like no one could see what was going on. Even when Awsten collapsed, wheezing for air. Geoff had to stop for him, tearing up a little at the sight. He didn’t have much time to react, so he scooped up the purple haired boy and swung him over his shoulders holding him up and continuing to run. There wasn’t anywhere to hide in sight, and Geoff knew even with the insane amount of adrenaline running through his system, he couldn’t run for much longer. The aliens were already starting to catch up. He looked over to his right, finding his solution.

He ran through the yard of some random house. He didn’t think the owners were home, and didn’t care if they were either. Awsten had regained his breath and was able to readjust himself onto Geoff’s back, legs tightly wrapped around his waist and hands clinging onto the taller boy’s shoulders, freeing up Geoff’s hands.

Geoff grabbed the top of the fence and jumped over it. It was harder to do it with Awsten on his back, but he managed to do it without the aliens spotting them first. Awsten climbed off Geoff’s back and they remained on all fours, crawling into the nearby bush to hide in until the aliens passed. It was hard for Geoff to do, not wanting to wreck the new fancy alien technology, but he grabbed a nearby rock and smashed the screen of the portal gun, wrecking the internals of the portal gun so it can’t be tracked. He dropped the gun and turned back to Awsten, who was shivering a little. He wasn’t sure if he was shaking out of fear or because he was cold, but the brunette figured a hug would help either.

Geoff wrapped his arms around Awsten, holding the smaller boy tight while Awsten shut his eyes. Geoff kept his wide open, looking and listening around for aliens. They were tired of hiding. Tired of running. Until they heard some screaming.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN-“ Awsten’s scream was cut off with a gushing noise. But Awsten was right there, in Geoff’s arms, perfectly still and most importantly, not screaming.

Another scream was heard, this time by Geoff. A few punching noises were heard, and another scream, cut off by silence and a gunshot. But Geoff and Awsten were still sitting in the bush, quiet and very much alive. A whoosh opening a portal was heard, and something was thrown into another dimension. They heard the aliens conversing again.

“We can’t ask where the gun is now that they’re dead!” One alien argued.

“It’s not even worth looking for anymore. They’re not alive and I’m sick of search. Let’s go home.”

“Fine. We’re coming back later though.” The third alien commanded

“We’re not. You can if you want.” The first alien who spoke commanded. Another whoosh was heard, and all was quiet. Geoff let go of Awsten.

Awsten was still trembling when Geoff let go, so Geoff reached over to Awsten’s forehead and gave it a little peck before getting up. Geoff quietly began to stand up and climb through the bush. Once he was out, he peered over the fence. The coast was clear, and the aliens were gone. Geoff went back into the bush, scooping up a still shaking Awsten bridal style. Awsten rested his head against Geoff’s chest and held onto his neck.

Now that the boys are no longer in danger, they took the long way back to their house. Geoff carried Awsten the entire way back.

They reached the house, but neither of them had a key. Luckily, Awsten kept a spare hidden in a fake rock. He just had to hope his alternative self also did that too. Since he was so forgetful, he probably did. He spotted the rock and opened it up to reveal the key. He gave it to Geoff to unlock while he put the rock back, and opened the door for both boys.

Immediately, they climbed back up to the bedroom and kicked off their shoes. Geoff walked over and shut the blinds, darkening the room. Awsten dug something out of his pocket and placed it in the drawer of his nightstand.

“What’s that?” Geoff asked, pointing to the drawer. Awsten knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Well, when you got out of the bush, I put the smashed portal gun in my pocket. I wanted to look at it later, maybe see if we can find someone who can fix it.” Awsten calmly replied. Geoff nodded and jumped on the bed, lying on his side and patted the spot next to him. Awsten joined him, lying in Geoff’s arms, snuggled into his chest. The purple haired boy pulled up the covered on both boys. They were exhausted, but even after a couple hours, they still couldn’t sleep. Geoff glanced over to the clock. It read 11:11 am. He then turned his head into an awkward position to see if Awsten was also having trouble sleeping. Awsten’s bicolored eyes were wide open.

“Awsten,” Geoff said softly, Awsten turning around to face Geoff, his head in his chest and eyes looking up at Geoff’s face. Geoff had to grin at just how damn cute that was. “What- what are we now? We’ve experienced a lot of gay moments together when we were abducted, but I enjoyed all of them.” Geoff couldn’t bring himself to look at Awsten for his last sentence. As he spoke, his face grew redder. “Originally, I had felt something, like romantic towards you.” Awsten listened intently, hiding his face in Geoff’s chest, listening to the brunette’s rapid heartbeat. Geoff continued. “I tried to push those feelings away, say that they would go, but they’re only got gotten… stronger.” The taller boy clung to Awsten a little tighter to finish his little speech.

“I- I love you, I think.”

Awsten couldn’t breathe because Geoff was holding him so tight, but he didn’t wiggle away for more room. In fact, Awsten wanted to get closer. He snuggled up to the older boy, fatally close to falling asleep, and spoke up before passing out.

“I love you too.”

#waterparks #Awsten knight #Geoff Wigington #fluff #very very cute #garunteed awww #awww #gawsten #gawsten fluff #aliens #alien abduction #dimension hopping #idobi radio #awsten and travis’ slumber party

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schwiftit-blog · 6 years

Note

Can I get a Rick/reader where the reader is a young scientist that stumbles into something Rick had also been working on and they meet because of it? More on the platonic side of possible? Sorry if this is confusing. Love your writing btw!

(Thank you!! Uh, so, I really got carried away with this and its so long lol. Like, 2000 words long. Hope this is what you were looking for though! It got a little fluffy at the end, but still stayed in the sphere of platonic interactions soooo)

The threat of Time Prison as an indefinite sentence scared you half to death. It was rare you ventured out into the galaxies for materials, much preferring to see what you could do with what earth had to offer first. The anxiety of your upcoming mission was a thick sludge restricting your wind pipe, making breathing hard and your hands sweaty. You were shaking as you dressed in a simple set of black gear with two guns at your sides, a backpack slung over your shoulders, and your teleporter in hand.

You press the launch button and feel yourself disintegrate into thin air, only to be reassembled somewhere else. The sensation was similar to a limb falling asleep and you hated the buzzing that always seemed to linger an hour after teleporting. However, what you were sought after was more than worth it––For you, this would be the breakthrough of the century.

You find yourself in the center of a high ceiling building, alien technology lining the walls. Thick circuits and wires wound and braided were intermingling into a colorful waterfall of loose cables everywhere you looked. There was a deep blue tint to the metal walls, a flashing red light whirred through the spacious room, and you could smell the heavy intoxication of alien and human anti septic.

You swallowed audibly and rubbed your hands together in an effort to steel yourself. You were here for a reason, you had a purpose, a mission to complete and your fear was not an option.

You set off quietly into the thresholds of the room, unsure exactly of what sort of intergalactic, high security building you were in. You had found the coordinates with fine calculations, rechecking them several times before setting out on this adventure. The time and location was right, you just needed to find it.

You kept your breath hushed and your actions nimble, scouring the room for what you knew was here: A crystallized athenite otherwise known as a time crystal. The situation was dire and you were near positive this would crack the code to, well, time travel itself. That was still a working theory of yours, but if the athenite was being this heavily guarded, it would prove useful no matter what.

You find the crystal in a suspended glass case an hour later. It took many hallways and turns, the stealing of a gromflamite guard’s keycard to access several different rooms, but you had finally found it. Your hands were clammy again beneath your gloves as you carefully stalked forward.

At this point, you were fairly sure you were in the clear. Your heartbeat quickened and anxiety flushed through you like a cold sweat. You were just so close.

After matching your stolen ID to the case, the glass slid away to reveal the crystallized athenite in all its looming glory. It shone like a beacon, the pink light bouncing off the walls and you couldn’t hold back the small sigh of relief as you held it in your––

“S-Shit! Shit! Get the––Get the fuck out of the way! M-Morty! Over there, over there, fuck!”

You can hear the screaming from down the hall and panic grips your heart. The alarms blare throughout the building not even seconds later and suddenly the place is on lockdown. Its chilling, the facility going dark and illuminated suddenly by only red alarms. You can hear an army’s worth of feet rushing towards you and you whip out your teleporter as soon as you see blue hair round the corner.

You hear the guards shouting a name, Rick Sanchez, over and over.

“W-Who the fu-fuck are you?” The man shouts, anger and frustration and annoyance mingling on his face to produce the world’s angriest grimace.

There’s shouting and then you blip out of existence, crystallized athenite in hand and the man’s blue eyes boring into your core. When you reappear in the center of your messy apartment, the pulsating crystal in hand, you slump to the floor and almost laugh hysterically at the fact that you managed to pull this off.

You knew the man from the gomflamite security building was going to pursue you. When you’d caught a glimpse of aged skin and blue hair, you knew the man was from earth and was definitely also in pursuit of your time crystal. It was only a matter of time before the man found you and tried to steal it away. So, you set to working on your new and improved portal gun with a fervor you hadn’t manifested since last year’s college finals.

Within a week you had found several uses for the crystal: Freezing time, hooking it up to your cable box for unlimited channels, and utilizing it on your laptop to find intergalactic sites. However, you couldn’t seem to make it do much more than that in terms of actual time travel.

Two weeks later you were entirely too frustrated. A month later and you were near calling it quits. In a rush of true frustration at the three month mark you set off to finding the coordinates of the blue haired man, hoping maybe by presenting the athenite crystal for him, he’d be willing to teach you what he intended to fucking do with it.

You manifest within the threshold of some small garage. There are gadgets on every wall, lining the shelves and the workbench. Some of the alien technology you recognize, most of it you do not. After all, you were young and had had little exposure with aliens seeing as you were still nervous about traveling between the galaxies.

You swallow, realizing how horribly this plan could go. Not wanting to intrude on the person’s home much further, you decide to wait it out in the garage until––

Who you believe must be the Rick Sanchez from the facility and a redheaded girl walk into the garage chatting. Rick notices you first, the girl second, both looking equally shocked at your unexpected arrival.

“Woah th-there, who the fuck…” Recognition flits over the older man’s face.

You pull out the crystal before he can say anymore, effectively silencing him for mere moments.

“My name is ___,” You begin, “And…Well, I’m here with a proposition. Of sorts.”

Rick rolls his eyes much to your disbelief, “Not interested.” He says before you can continue, his tone sharp.

“B-But you haven’t even heard what I––”

“Don’t care. R-Rick Sanchez doesn’t––I don’t do collabs.” He scoffs, brushing you off as if what you’re offering is some crude science fair project.

For a moment you are at a loss for words when the redhead speaks up on your behalf, “Grandpa Rick, you’re being so rude right now. I’m sorry he’s being rude, he’s been day drinking. Look,” She turns her attention to you, “What are you offering? He’s been whining about that crystal for the last month. So, I know he wants it.”

“S-Summer––” Rick shouts, exasperation thick in his voice.

“I’m offering the time crystal in exchange…Like, interning with it. I wanted…What I needed to do with it isn’t working. I realize I need help with it. I’m willing to offer you whatever other useful things my own lab may have to help.”

After that fateful day, you felt you were practically indebted to Summer Smith for life. The discussion had quickly turned into a fierce argument about the likelihood of time travel after Rick asked you to explain what you wanted to do with the crystal. But, eventually, Rick was able to prove that it was, indeed, an impossible feat. Once that was squared away, you two had immediately gotten to work figuring out what information either had in an effort to put your individual talents to good work.

The next step was Rick going through your lab, gathering some of the materials you had. You knew he was taking more than he actually needed, but you recognized his genius as priceless and were willing to part with much of your items in exchange for vast knowledge.

“W-Wait, you’re telling me it took you a week to make that toaster?” Rick asked as he held the kitchen appliance in hand.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Yeah, what of it? It makes perfectly toasted toast. That takes time and patience to perfect. Its an exact science.”

“Toast isn’t a…It isn’t a fucking science.” He grabbed it anyways and you cocked a brow, “Toast is stupid. Its just…Just recooked bread.”

“If its so stupid, then what are we going to use it for?”

Rick shrugged, “Morty’ll get a––Get a kick out of it once I recalibrate it to make h-his idea of perfect toast.”

Its late on a school night several weeks later when you and Rick decide to call your nightly tinkering quits. The project was coming along nicely, but it was nowhere near completion even with both of your geniuses at hand.

At some point Rick had convinced you to run to the store for more beer, and by the time the two of you had cracked open the third pack, you had a severe case of the giggles. Rick himself seemed to be in a lighter mood as well and he’d pushed away from the bench and guided you to the living room.

After a long pull from his flask and hooking up the crystallized athenite to the cable box, Rick had put on Ball Fondlers in an attempt to relax. You sat on the couch, long legs taking up the majority of the couch as you laid your head on the armrest. You were drunk, completely and utterly, and you realized it had been a long time since you’d just kicked back with someone.

Even if that someone ended up being a seventy year old man.

“You know? I did this too. I think this might be the best use for this stupid fucking crystal.”

Rick nodded, passing his flask over to you. You take a small sip and pass it back, lazy smiles on both of your faces.

“Y-Yeah, that means something coming from the girl wh-who thought time travel was possible.” Rick teased, turning up the volume some.

You snatch the last beer and stick your tongue out at him, the fuzzy glow of the tv softening both of your features.

You don’t remember falling asleep on the Smith’s couch, but you do remember a bit of beer being spilled on your face, followed by a string of curse words and a blanket being thrown over your body.

#Anonymous #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader #myfic #rick x reader #this took me like so long to write i got stuck halfway but im glad i finished it #please tell me of any typos I've read through it three times now but idk

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pearlroseteas-interdimensional · 7 years

Text

Spoilers for season 3 episode 7 (Tales from the Citadel)

So, I do believe my Morties Feeling Worthless is Dangerous theory was correct.

What the hell happened in this episode? We learned life on the Citadel, we learned why our Rick hates it.

We also learn we are actually following our Rick! I was for sure the twist of this season was this was a completely different Rick, being a punch in the balls for the viewer. I guess the creators just aren’t as cruel as me?

We learned Rick’s society... Is society. They are rebuilding what they have lost and we watch the effects of our Rick’s actions, while just the same knowledge and possible education status (probably? Infinite realities, one of them went to Brown) there was still a social latter.

That surprised me, because before I thought the Citadel was honestly like a mall, hotel, tour area where Ricks and Morties came for supplies, and why our Rick was always in trouble for getting things for his things, but not other Ricks it seems?

It might have been that, before the attack. We see Ricks with injuries, Morties without Rick, and a huge crime problem and I think a Morty strip club? Uh, I never read it, but it sure sounds like Citadel of Lost Children.

We learned how much Morty are taken for granted, they are given zero education in a school, lawyer Morty was seen as a thing to be fun, and when the Morty from the diner tried to get a taxi, they skipped him, going to another Rick.

If we look back to the first episode showing the Citadel we see a sea of Ricks and Morties, happy.

We see Morties dumb and happy. However, let's look at the new Citadel. We see unhappy Ricks, we see dangerous Morties. What else do I see? Morty's never went back to their universe. Rickless Morties are still forced there to be there. They're forced to be alone from their families and their entire life has truly stopped. I believe the old citadel was better, despite it all, Morties were treated better, Ricks and Morty were free and they actually had leaders.

A law, from the last scene shows, it was against the law to kill a Morty. So while being pieces of shits, the Rick council had enough morals to not allow their other grandsons to be abused as badly as usual. Another thing I caught onto was no Rick went home? It looked to be they lived there and did daily jobs. Does this mean these Ricks never left there? Is that why we never see another pair of our main characters during adventures? This was probably spoon fed to us but it's been so long since I've seen the old plot heavy episodes.

(SPOILERS)

We got the return of Eye Patch Morty, who ran for president and seemed to treat Morties better this time around? He's not torturing them yet, he was quick to fire that one Morty. There is no more council, it's one person. I know it isn't a monarch but think about it. He already had killed and disposed of those on the table who had opposed him. He completely avoided the question when asked about his original Rick, using the excuse of being a Morty with an "Aw Geez! We traveled around so much!" He's already got a Morty killed during his presidency, and he's shown his violent behavior early on.

I will forever miss Campaign Manager Morty, he did his best and got shit on for doing the right thing. It’s sad, honestly, this was one of the parts that made me ball my eyes out. I have never cried over this goddamn cartoon before. Why did he have to die? I love him!

Speaking of this scene, look at all those corpses. It’s barely been any time at all and without the Council of Ricks, they have already spilled so much blood. They’re like children who are finally free. They are destroying what made their home, their home. It’s not just Ricks out there either guys, they had no problem killing a Morty. Which, was illegal in the times before.

Morties could be abused, but now they are truly isolated, dying and having real racism being brought their way. Any Morty in this place is unsafe, any Ricks are unsafe- everyone is unsafe.

(End of major spoiler)

(Semi spoilers)

NO DOOFUS RICK HECC HE BETTER NOT BE DEAD, CREATORS

I love Dumb Ri- Long Morty. But he shows us that they have to put each person in a category so bad that people like Doofus Rick or Long Morty they have to make a lower citizen.

Morties are committing crimes, becoming dangerous and now a lot are using some Rick's love to manipulate them. They feel worthless, Morty Cop said utterly Mortist comments and shown the lack of respect he had for himself and his kind. He killed them, said they didn't matter and it was found out he was just as bad, if not worse, than the other Morties. The Rick cop was the most human of the team and the town.

Morties acting like children hits home with Ricks, I do believe Ricks miss Beth, their family, wives and the normal relationship they could have with Morty. I think those cookies taste good not only because Rick feels successful, but the fatherly love he possesses for his daughter. It seems he had to leave her too, or a freak accident happened.

Maybe they formed together to protect their loved ones because the government targeting them. No matter what, Ricks are dangerous.

Also, I know this got to be some goddamn foreshadowing. Showing us how cold blooded Morties can be- Rick is in their blood. Yet, Rick is human, he's not a complete monster.

There is a strip club of minors- Morties, creators calm yourself!

I’m slightly salty 90% of the Morties shown were just normal Morties with some minor difference. When I saw what this episode was actually about, I was so excited! I wanted Pocket Morties, I wanted Rabbit, Miami, Ghost and more Morties! Not just Glasses, Left, or Slick Morty, thought Liztard Morty was awesome- he was just a DNA test gone wrong. I still love him though

The cop Rick shows us a new type of Rick, our Rick shows a compassionate Rick who tries to keep his love under-wraps.

Doofus Rick shows us a kind, simpler Rick who is open, and quite wise on certain topics. He made oven less brownies and made Jerry feel better about his collection, he’s awesome!

Long Morty (Dumb Rick) shows us how Ricks are so determined to make little sections of each person that they put their own in the same mistreatment and abusive place as their Morties, he was just a Morty to them. They even are killing him in those tight clothes!

Cop Rick shows a new Rick, fresh from training and wanting to help people, Ricks and Morties alike. He shows us that Ricks can be open with their emotions and have moral high grounds. He better not be a one off character. He wants to help people, but this might have jaded him. I don’t think he has a Morty, but gosh he’s so sweet to the ones he talks to

The cop side story was disheartening, we saw an even darker side of Morty in this episode. They’re all just teenagers, without parents or true lives to go back to. They are forced into a ghetto like town with other teenage themselves.

Expecting to, like adults, to be functional and not depend on a Rick, even though that’s all they’ve done in that crazy, dynamic world.

The Morty School was just as I expected, a fun adventure before Slick Morty (SPOILER) threw himself in hoping to make a good life for every Morty. I honestly hope he is okay and alive... In the garbage.

It also shows us Morties are simplified by their Ricks, “Fat Morty, Liztard Morty.”

When the Glasses Morty told Slick Morty he also rolls his sleeves up, I realized something. they’re truly only judged by their appearance, and sometimes a certain character trait. They’re not people in this society. They truly are a shield, sidekick, a joke- nothing unique. So common they are passed around like pets.

in all, a great episode, you should get caught up and check it out.

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rawkingbunny · 7 years

Text

Bitter and Sick - Chapter Three

After tons of editing and rewrites, it’s finally done! I really hope you like this as much as i did writing it! There are tons of journal 3 references in here, so keep your eyes peeled! I always keep a copy next to me for fun. Also, I’m considering writing a Stan Spin-off, during his time in the 70s and 80s as a struggling businessman.

–Rating: M

–Gravity Falls/Rick and Morty

~Diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, Stanford Pines is forced to reflect on past regrets and experiences that bring him back to one person. A narcissistic sociopath who saved his life~

~Chapter Three~

…

One Week Earlier

…

“Mr. Mystery, you’re full of surprises…”

Stan parted lips with his score, a devilish grin spread across his bold face. It was moments like these that the title had its perks, it wasn’t everyday a beautiful woman entered the gift shop with a purpose.

“Baby…the tour doesn’t end here…”

Coarse hands gripped her hips as his tongue explored her mouth, strong arms wrestling her to the desk. Neglected stacks of cash scattered across its surface, and a change counter that was a little too out of date fell carelessly to the floor. Neither seemed to mind, Stan already sliding his large hand beneath her silk blouse.

Quiet moans elicited from both parties, her hands making quick work of removing his jacket and tie. She began to struggle with the buttons on his shirt, leaving heated kisses across his chin.

Stan chuckled, loosening his belt with his free hand. “You’re about to be one lucky lady…”

His belt cracked like a whip as he dropped it to the floor, a low growl forming In his throat as her frail hands reached to unzip his pants.

Without warning, the door to the office swung open, both defensively attempting to cover themselves at the intrusion.

Stanford Pines took a step back in embarrassment, heat crossing his already pink nose. It’s not like it was the first time he’d caught his brother in such a compromising position, they did unfortunately share a bedroom in their youth.

“Pardon my intrusion…”, Ford choked, the sound almost close to the squeak of a small door mouse. He gripped the side of the door, averting his gaze as he started to shut it.

Stan adjusted his glasses in irritation, re-zipping his pants. “Wait…”.

The slight creak of the door stopped, Ford turning bloodshot eyes back to his brother. He avoided looking directly at the visitor, but noticed she’d started to gather her purse and coat in frustration. He was pretty sure he heard her mutter something about “Wasted time” and “Bus fare”, which made him feel a lot more confident in his choice to stay.

Stan reached for his jacket, sliding a few bills beneath the lining of her jeans. A loud smack echoed through the shop as he slapped her rear in amusement, a wide grin plastered on his face. She was in no way enjoying this, a look of pure hatred focused in Ford’s direction.

Ford stepped aside for her like a proper gentleman, a smirk gracing his exhausted features. “Don’t forget to come back now, “ he managed to say, receiving the middle finger in direct response.

The gift shop door slammed behind her as she made her way to the exit, leaving the two face to face in the office door away.

Stan was close enough to finally get a cold hard look at his brothers disheveled features, the heavy bags under Ford’s eyes brought him back to that December chill almost forty years ago.

“You’re not sleeping again…”

Ford bit his lip, he knew he was a mess. He’d just spent over an hour staring back at his own horrid reflection in the mirror. It had been weeks since he’d shaved, the thick stubble irritating his cheeks.

The stench of cold sweat was caught in Stan’s nose, and he guessed it had been days since Ford had even had a decent shower. He chose to ignore it, buttoning up the top few buttons of his shirt.

Ford was thankful, the blinding reflection of Stan’s medallion disappearing behind his collar. He opened his mouth to reply, raising a six fingered hand to push his glasses back into place.

“You’d be making friends with the coffee maker too, if you had my dreams…”

Stan closed the office door behind them as they reentered the gift shop, a normal quiet Monday leaving them both alone amongst the various trinkets and poorly handmade merchandise.

Ford followed him to the registers, picking up one of the ‘Mr Mystery’ bobble heads in mild curiosity. He grazed his thumb over the plastic, the cheap paint already seemed to be fading with age. There was time when he resented his brother for this ridiculous attraction he created, but he’d come to admire the intricate thought and detail that came with every new ridiculous oddity he invented.

Stan stopped at the register behind the narrow counter, and popped open the drawer with a quick turn of the brass key hung amongst the countless others that all seemed so familiar to the author.

Ford placed the bobble head back down on the shelf, turning back to his brother with a heavy mind. “Stanley?”

The larger man paused, a large finger slipping underneath a stack of twenty dollar bills. “Hmm?”

Ford tensed and rubbed the back of his head, “I need you to know…that I’m thankful”.

Stan released a rasped chuckle, “For what? Me stealing your fucking house…”

Ford’s mouth gaped open to speak, but he was cut off by his brother’s irritated expression as he shoved the cash back into the drawer.

“Stanley…I…”

“You what? Want me to pack my bags? Wanna kick the kids out to?”

“They’re happening again, Stanley…”

The room was silent, the two old men sharing puzzled expressions. Neither having the words to say to break the tension in the air.

Stan was the first to speak, memories flooding back from that terrifying night. The vulnerability of leaving his mind so open. A foggy remnant of a moment where his priorities were clear, and he was willing to sacrifice his own sanity for the children he’d come to care so much for.

“He can’t be alive…”

“I know, Stanley…”

“You don’t understand. I killed that fucker myself”.

…

Present Day

…

Smoke clouded the gentle breeze that filled the late summer air, dancing it’s way from the roof of the hospital. The quiet melody of seagulls loomed overhead, a sound he’d become accustomed to after spending the last year on open waters.

Stan Pines let out a haggard breath, a lit cigarette held between gritted teeth. An old habit, one that he always seemed to return to in times of stress. Sixer had his ways of dealing with his anxiety, and Stan had his own secrets. There was a reason why he kept a few bags of marijuana stashed in the safe, and may have taken a couple vicodin to numb more than just his body.

His hands shook violently as he grasped the butt of his cigarette, dropping his arm lazily to his side. He exhaled, pulling the corners of his beanie over his ears to protest the breeze.

It had been almost 48 hours since Ford has lost consciousness, and the wait was murder. Stan hadn’t left his side for the first 24, and Wendy had to persuade him to at least head back to the shack and get a shower and new clothes. And now here he was, having a mental breakdown on the roof of the hospital.

Aside from a bag of chips Wendy had snagged him from the vending machine, he hadn’t had a decent meal in almost 2 days. His stomach groaned at the thought, and he gripped it in irritation. It was flatter than he remembered, the time oversea with Ford had been healthy for not only his mind but his body as well.

Stan took another drag of his cigarette, his nerves steadying to a point of content, honey eyes surveying the horizon.

“Grunkle Stan!”

He turned abruptly, flicking his current emotional support to the ground in favor of a healthier one.

Mabel was staring back at him from the roof exit, her eyes swelled with tears, faced flushed and exhausted from crying. Her soft brown eyes quivered, making a mad dash to his broad open arms.

He knelt down to received her hug, running a large hand through her hair to ease the tension. She continued to cry salty tears into his chest. The strong smell of salt water was soothing and she inhaled it from his jacket, ignoring the also obvious smell of nicotine smoke.

“Hey, Sweetie…” he released a slight cough, hugging her tighter in response. He couldn’t find anything else to say to calm her tears, his own mind racing due to lack of sleep.

And it was at that moment that every little tightly boarded corner of his tough emotional exterior cracked, and the tears came. They started slow, and turned into gross sobs of distress. The stubble of his chin running past her forehead as he hugged her closer, nearly crushing her in the moment.

In shock, Mabel hugged his neck, his significantly longer silver hair passing through her tiny fingers.

“It’s ok…” she choked, fighting to reassure them both between her own sobs.

Stan’s body trembled, knowing he shouldn’t be here. He should be at Ford’s side, praying to a God he didn’t believe in that those six fingers would twitch back to life and laugh it off like it was some kind of sick joke.

They were both broken from their bond, the sound of the exit door sliding open raked through their ears. A panting Wendy stood there, face paler than usual.

“He’s awake!”

…

Darkness.

He recognized the void of his own mind, the calm and orderly emptiness. But the darkness was new.

Lifting himself from a seated position, Ford reached to ease another migraine, only to find that there was no pain. He breathed a sigh of relief, narrowing his eyes to attempt to see through the endless black.

Am I dead…

This was no surprise to him if it were true, he honestly deserved so much worse.

So this is how it all ends…

A light fog began to lift around him, brightening the darkness but limiting his peripheral vision. His body buckled in confusion, searching for anything he could hold on to, something corporeal other than his own body.

The darkness faded into a starry night sky, familiar constellations overcrowded by the infinite possibilities beyond. He reveled in that feeling, and felt at home.

He looked down at his hands, puzzled as he was once again dressed in his black coat and sweater, the cold heavy metal of his quantum destabilizer strapped to his back.

Was this all a dream? Did I never make it home?

The fog slowly lifted, the faint smell of gunfire and alienistic screams clouded his senses. He lifted a knife from his belt, a deep familiar laughter echoing through the air. He could hear and smell war, but what he saw was only space;cold, wide, and beautiful.

“You came back…”

Ford panicked as a cold hand touched his shoulder, turning to come face to face with a worn and beaten Rick. His eyes sunken with exhaustion, drained from alcohol withdrawal.

“Rick…I didn't…”, he shook violently, looking for any kind of excuse to save himself. “I didn’t mean to leave you, but the portal-”

“FUCK THE PORTAL!”

Rick’s voice deepened, echoing throughout the vast emptiness. His eyes sagged, dried blood and various scars covering his face and arms. He was beaten and broken, a large gash sealed with a tourniquet over his shoulder.

Ford parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out. A painful reminder of his biggest mistake stood before him, and he was paralyzed.

“You left me here. Not a goodbye, not a fucking word. You left me to die…”

Ford backed away, ready for the blow. He welcomed it, he deserved more. All that wasted time spent traveling the multiverse, gaining his trust, he’d never meant for it to end this way.

“I’m sorry…”

Rick pulled his fist, no remorse or the slightest sign of retraction.

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE!”

You ruined my life…

He’d heard that before. The words digging like knives in his already fragile heart. But this time he didn’t argue, eyes rolling back into his skull as Rick’s punch landed across his heavy jaw. He stumbled to the ground, a sharp pain accompanying the oncoming migraine that he was so used to.

Ford seethed, adjusting his jaw as he struggled to look back up at his friend. His face paled at the view before him. Eyes a yellow field, slits like knives.

No. Not him…

A shrill laugh pierced Ford’s ears, horrified as Rick emitted that monstrous voice that was obviously not his own.

He attempted to crawl away, the world around him spinning and hazed. He slowly lost consciousness, the color yellow the last thing burned into his eidetic memory as the world went black.

Fear the beast with just one eye…

…

The sound of hushed voices reached his ears, his eyes still adjusting to the sunlight that filled the room.

“Ford you idiot!”

Ford assumed the voice was Stanley’s, and his theory was correct as he felt his brothers large arms pull him into a tight embrace. He could smell the faint stench of nicotine on his breath, and realized he must have been unconscious way too long for comfort.

Stan pulled away, reaching in his pocket for a pair of glasses, frames slightly cracked on the corner. Ford happily accepted them, grunting as vision returned.

Mabel and Dipper smiled back at him from the edge of the bed, Wendy eying him but chatting quietly on her phone.

“You scared us half to death!” Mabel squeaked, bright eyes locked on his. Her braces shined in the sun, the glare itching his tired eyes.

Ford leaned back, becoming self aware of the various drugs running through his system. His sweater was gone, his various scars and tattoos visible from the fabric of the fitted hospital gown. He wanted to run, feeling vulnerable and wide open to criticism, but he settled on the fact that he was surrounded by family and friends. The paranoia faded, and he gave in to the medication.

“Hey, you hungry…” Stan questioned, his body shifting on the edge of the bed.

As if on queue, Ford’s stomach groaned in reply. He was reminded that even before he’d lost consciousness that it had been almost 2 days since he’d had a decent meal. He nodded, the mattress lifting as Stan lead the kids to the exit.

“I’ll stay with him, “ Wendy assured to Stan, finishing her phone call and pocketing the device.

The door closed behind them, Ford a little more at ease now that he wasn’t the focus of numerous stares. The migraine was gone, replaced by the cold hard pinch of the metal plate at the base of his skull.

“Thank you…”

Wendy was surprised by his gratitude, shrugging it off. “I just got off the phone with Soos. I didn’t want to bother them on their honeymoon, but he’s glad you’re ok…”

Ford agreed, Soos and Melody deserved the time together. They’d been saving enough for the trip, and it would be a tragedy to have them head home from Hawaii so soon.

“You can thank me by answering a simple question…”

Ford tensed, adjusting himself so he could see her better. The throbbing pain may be gone, but the horror of his dreams still lingered.

Wendy crossed her legs, folding her arms over her chest. Her green eyes shined with curiosity.p “Who is Rick?”

“Pardon me?”

The room grew silent, both of them exchanging puzzled stares, neither willing to let this go. Wendy was the first to crack a response, brushing a strand of red behind her hair.

“Before you passed out…you called me, Rick? Does that name mean anything to you?”

Ford had no recollection of speaking his name, only the oncoming darkness. It was likely the lack of sleep was affecting his mental state, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hallucinated.

“A friend. He was a friend…”

Wendy was intrigued, making her way to the edge of the bed. She took her time, carefully not to irritate his weak body by shaking the mattress.

“What was he like?”

Ford chuckled at the question, lifting a hand to run a finger over her cheek. He’d become quite fond of her over the two years since he’d been back, she was almost like a daughter to him. Although he’d never admit it, not willing to start a feud with her actual father.

“You would have hit it off…”

She leaned in, teasingly. “Spit it out old man…I want all the details…”

Ford blushed, some of those details he wasn’t entirely sure were appropriate. Some, he wasn’t even sure he even believed.

Wendy’s eyes widened in sudden realization, eyes traveling to his neck. He noticed her gaze shift, the blush on his cheeks reddening. She’d discovered his biggest regret, his neck tattoo.

She grazed her fingers over it, laughing at the adorable cartoon star that was still fresh on his skin. The lyrics ‘Hey now, I’m an All Star’ surrounding the smiling animated character.

“Was Rick responsible for this?”

Ford choked, pulling the covers close in embarrassment. He would kill for a comfort bag of jelly beans, not too keen on remembering the 30 years prior.

“Unfortunately…”

…

Ford downed another shot of whiskey, hand grazing over the rim of the glass. The crowds and over cranked pop music ringing in his ears.

This wasn’t his type of crowd, but the urge for a mind numbing scotch or whiskey was too good too pass up.

He was positive that the woman across the room was watching him with interest, but he avoided eye contact, much more interested in getting wasted than social interaction.

His thumb graced the creases of the old photograph, the tattered image of a young Stan and himself staring back at him.

Fifteen years…it had been fifteen years since he’d been running. Fifteen years of scrounging and fighting for food and shelter, of stealing and lying. The days just dragged on, and he would get just a little bit older.

“Pines!”

Ford flinched, the seat to his left quickly being taken. Silver hair with chestnut streaks came in to view, and he rolled his eyes as he realized who he was addressing.

“Rick..”

The name fell flat on his mouth, in a tone that sounded almost irritated. Ford was not ready for this interaction, and was definitely not in the mood for games.

“Two more for my partner here, and a couple for myself…” Rick shouted to the bartender, winking suggestively. She rolled her eyes in response, sending Ford a concerned look.

Ford nodded in approval, giving her a slight bit of comfort for his safety.

Rick turned in his chair to get a good look at him, eyes raking over his disheveled form.

“Damn. Even, when you’ve been through shit you still look fine…”

Ford downed the next shot as soon it was placed in reaching distance, wanting to just take the whole damn bottle and down it all at once. Rick was already intoxicated, his lack of proper judgement even more impaired than usual.

Rick grinned and leaned a little closer, his voice suggestive and near to a whisper.

“How drunk would you need to be to let me bend you over this counter right now?”

A heated blush crossed Ford’s cheeks and he choked, making his best attempt to retain a calm exterior. He formulated a blatant lie, downing the second shot whole.

“I prefer to have someone of the female persuasion in my bed…”

“Bullshit…”

It’s true, it was Bullshit, but he wasn’t about to admit it, especially to Rick. He’d have a field day with the news and never let it go.

Ford tucked the old photograph in his jacket, reaching for a shot only to realize he’d finished them. The bartendender was busy filling other drinks, leaving him without a security blanket.

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me..

He untensed, the familiar tune passing through his throat in a gentle hum. It was a common practice to deal with his social anxiety, one he utilized more often than not. He may even have a walkman stashed in his bag, but he’d never tell a soul that one.

Rick’s unibrow rose, roaring with laughter. “Fuck me. You like this song?”

Ford rolled his eyes, raising an arm to the free bartender. He needed some stimulation, and he needed it now.

She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb…

“Sorry, sixer. You just don’t struuuuuurp–ike me as someone who would appreciate modern music…”

“Don’t pretend to know me…”

The empty glasses were replaced with two more, and he groaned in relief, downing both in seconds. The buzz was starting to take effect, and his body loosened, fingers tapped against the empty glass along with the song.

Didn’t make sense not to live for fun. Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb…

“How about a challenge?”, Rick grinned as he downed his last shot, arm leaning suggestively against the counter. The leather of his jacket creaked, his undershirt dipping and giving off a full view of his chest hair.

Ford swallowed, adams apple uncomfortably shifting in response. “Enlighten me…”

“30 shots…”, Rick burped, lifting his empty glass as a token. “Loser gets a tattoo, and the winner gets to design it…”

Fords ego increased, his already questionable judgement impaired by the alcohol. “I’ll take that bet…”

You’ll never know if you don’t go. You’ll never shine if you don’t glow…

He was positive he was the less intoxicated of the two, and his confidence grew as the bartender poured them their shots. Her expression still concerned for his health, the attention causing him to anxiously run a polydactyl hand through his chestnut hair.

Rick noticed the tension, mild jealousy forming. He made a note to get her fired later, slamming his first shot on the counter in excitement. “One…two…”

He cheated, downing the first glass before getting to ‘three’. He received a scowl from Ford in response, who was doing surprisingly well at catching up.

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play…

The tenth shot stung as it went down, Ford clenching his teeth at the burn. He hadn’t entirely taken into account how many shots he’d had prior, and this was starting to look foolish on his part. Rick on the other hand was on his fifteenth shot, not a shudder or sign of surrender.

“Give up yet, Fordsie?”

The older man seethed, downing his thirteenth shot in desperation, taking any chance he could to catch up. He could tell Rick was starting to take it easy on him, and the knife to his ego hurt more than the actual loss.

Even taking his time, Rick was already at his twenty-fifth, already scheming the results of his victory. He watched in amusement at Ford began to falter at twenty, nearly tossing it up as it went down his throat.

“Alright…Alright…Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Just call it already”, the younger man groaned, downing his twenty-eighth.

Rick downed his last two, unable to watch the agony his friend was going through. Shaking a head at the sick and defeated drunk Ford, lifting him to his feet.

Ford didn’t complain when he noticed Rick paid for their drinks. He didn’t complain as he watched him pull out the portal device from his jacket. He was too drunk to complain as he pulled him through the emerald light. And you’d think he was high as a kite at how amused he was at the change of scenery.

“Welcome to Earth Dimension 62-48 Ceeeeeee…” Rick burped, spreading his arms as if it was a world of his own creation. Which wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

His introduction was cut short by the sound of Ford chucking onto the cold hard ground, no longer able to hold back. He’d taken it too far this time, his pride getting the best of him.

Rick waited for him to finish, offering an arm to lead him to a nearby tent. He muttered along the way about the science of holding your alcohol, and how he recognized that Ford was drinking on an empty stomach; which obviously dwindled his chances.

Ford sobered enough to walk for himself as they reached the tent, a market area coming into view before him. He shared a brief glance at Rick, attempting to avoid the street salesman and traders calling them their way. A Garblovian started shouting obscenities as they passed, and Ford was tempted to fish out his translator. Rick’s flip of the middle finger was more than enough of a retaliation to quiet him, both men diving under a tattered curtain in nearby tattoo parlor.

Ford’s lip curled in uncertainty, Rick dragging him to the front desk. The shop owner at the desk was nothing like he’d seen before, an average pig with octopus tentacles for arms. Despite the sunglasses and tough exterior, it seemed elated to see Rick. It’s cheeks curving into a fat smile that could weaken even the strongest of men.

“‘Sup, Tony! How you doin’ you son of biiiitch…”, Rick readied his fist, winking in invitation.

Tony received the fist bump with a tentacled one of his own, beady eyes darting between the two under the frames of his sunglasses.

“Who’s your friend?”

“This is Ford. Lost a bet, the fuckin’ lightwieght. Can you fit him in?”

Tony chuckled as if it wasn’t the first time this had happened, hopping off his stool to lead them to the backroom.

Ford lifted the curtain. The parlor was rather large, countless sketches littering the walls. The faded wooden countertops were covered in supplies and chemicals, several ink pens with different sizes and tips caught his attention.

Rick motioned to Ford to remove his shirt, to which he protested at first. After a few moments of grumbling, he discarded his jacket and sweater, feeling exposed. He caught a thirsty stare from Rick, his numerous scars and rugged chest hair attracting his attention.

Tony led Ford to the large reclining chair in the center, wiping his tentacles on a nearby rag before reclining him back in the chair to get a better look at his flesh. He glanced at a small sketch that Rick has somehow managed to finish, keeping it out of range of Ford in amusement.

“I’m going to regret this…” The older man uttered out loud, the needle pinching his neck without warning. For his first tattoo it wasn’t as painful as he expected, to be honest it was almost therapeutic.

The next hour was a culmination of Rick running his mouth about his portal gun, how it functioned and the science behind it. Every intricate detail was music to Ford’s ears. Rick’s passion for his work was inspiring, and for a moment…he admitted to himself that there was more to this man than he was lead to believe.

The minutes passed by, reaching over an hour with Rick leaning against the wall impatiently. Tony lifted the pen, passing a mirror to Ford so he could admire the work.

Ford braced himself, turning his large chin to have a better view.

A small yellow star grinned back at him, the cartoonish features amusing him in his drunken state. The lyrics ‘Hey Now, I’m an All Star’ cradled around the character.

“So, scale of 1 to 10. Is it my best work?” Rick burped.

“I love it…”

And all that glitters is gold. Only shooting stars break the mold…

Previous Chapter

#rick sanchez #stanford pines #bitter and sick #stanley pines #gravity falls #rick and morty #fan fiction #my writing #mabel pines #wendy corduroy #bill cipher #chapter three #rickford

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Photo

Header from ao3commentofday:

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

This is some cut content from when I was struggling to figure out how to start Ch8: What It Is To Burn before I just completely edited the ending and went from there.

The first features a scene of what happened to Scar Rick in the Ch7: Shameful Metaphors. I still hold to this as what happened from Nova’s POV, I just never really had a reason to revisit it.

The second was just an attempt at finding a way for Rick to kinda... trap her in the house? But it wasn’t like him intentionally trapping her in the house or anything, just Rick things happening that would stop her from leaving. Not sure why I didn’t like it over a reread. I guess it just wasn’t doing what I wanted it to thematically. Who knows anymore? 🤷‍♀️😂 oh and also Morty talks to Nova about Rick and her feelings for him, I really wish I would’ve kept that. Ah well, c’est la vie.

The last is just Rick trying to talk to her to get her to stay. And he’s drunk. And its kinda adorable and yet again, I don’t know why I didn’t like it.

Scar Rick

(1144 Words)

Everything that had happened, from Scar dying to Rick proclaiming he’d rather have the council dead even at the risk of my own safety… It was too much. It was all too fucking much. As I gathered my belongings, packing them back into the duffle I’d arrived with was hard, but I needed time to process. Watching a Rick die, even if he wasn’t my Rick was haunting me. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see him lying there, turning paler by the second.

“Then he dies. I’m sorry Nova.” Riq IV had stated simply from his throne with a shrug. Vicious anger ripped through me, as he spoke into his watch, delivering an order to have C-137, my Rick, assassinated.

“You piece of fucking shit, you have to help me.” I bellowed up at the blue-haired fuck.

“I assure you, he will have a painless death and you can go back to your dimension and get on with your life.” He told me casually. My eyes shot to Scar, looking at me anxiously as his own eyes flitted between the council and me.

“Well, if that’s going to be how it is…” I dragged out slowly, casually stalking forward, gripping the pistol Scar passed me discreetly. “Then, you die. I’m sorry Riq IV.” I took aim, firing as the six council members dove out of the way.

“D-Dammit Nova, stand down!” Rick Prime bellowed from behind his throne.

“Wh-Why?” I demanded. “I’m just regarding his life the same as you regard my Rick’s. NBD, right?” I spat at him venomously.

“Nova, c-calm down.” Scar said soothingly, resting a hand on my back.

“N-No, fuck you Scar.” I flinched away from him, turning my gun on him. You just can’t fucking trust Ricks can you?

“Nova, there are two fucking council members with you in his sights.” He urged through gritted teeth. “Calm. Down.” His head nudged lightly in the direction of the grand doors where I found two Ricks in white suits, their guns trained on me with no emotion on their faces.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked him hysterically. “I knew coming here was a bad fucking idea.”

“Give your Rick some fucking credit.” He murmured gruffly. “He’s gotten out of tighter jams than this one.”

As if on cue, the entire citadel erupted around us. Screams from Ricks and Mortys were deafening as they flooded into the Council Hall. We had been teleported, planting the Citadel in the center of what looked like a large prison. Groflamites rained from the ceiling, and we put our differences aside to take out the immediate threat. Two of the bugs were able to dispatch the Guard Ricks and once I was out of immediate danger I raised my weapon again, aiming it at the nearest Council Rick.

“Nova! Drop the weapon.” Quantum Rick said, approaching me with his own gun pointed at the two of us. “Just, let it go. He was just a Rick. He probably would’ve gotten you killed anyway without a second thought.”

“You know Nova since you’re all alone now, you could always look for a new Rick.” Riq IV grinned viciously as he eyed me wickedly. “I’ve never had the pleasure of a Nova.”

“And you never fucking will.” Scar growled, pushing me behind him as Riq IV stalked closer.

It happened so quickly. A gun went off, a window broke and Scar groaned. Initially, I thought a bullet broke one of the remaining windows of the council, but as Scar fell to his knees clutching his chest, the true horror of the situation became rapidly apparent. Quantum Rick’s pistol was still smoking as he grinned evilly at me. The other Ricks had formed around him, staring at Scar in disbelief.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a really long time.” He chuckled darkly.

The entire citadel shifted, dropping me to my knees as the Ricks around me struggled to keep their balance. I couldn’t stop staring at the Rick who had protected and cared for me as he bled out on the cold marble floor. My distraction offering Riq IV his opportunity to grab me by my arm, Zeta Alpha Rick appearing to have the same idea as he grabbed the other. The citadel shook again, scaring Quantum Rick enough to head for the door and disappear down the hall. The two Ricks pulled my arms in opposite directions like I was a goddamn ragdoll. Quantum Rick returned, shouting at the two to let me go. The surprise caused both of them to reflexively release me and I dropped down next to Scar.

“I’m so sorry.”

I grabbed my things, shaking away the memory as I surveyed the room, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Certain I had collected everything, I pulled the door to the office open, making my way down the hallway to find Morty and Summer watching TV.

“Where are you going, Aunt Nova?” Summer asked coolly. I was surprised that she had even seen me as she hadn’t exactly looked up from her phone. Morty looked up from the couch, quickly assessing me and standing up.

“I have to go handle some things at home,” I told her with a shrug and started walking away. Morty followed me to the front door, his brow furrowed.

“Au-Aunt Nova, wait.” He said, grabbing my arm to stop me in my tracks. “Y-You’re going home? Wh-What about Rick?”

“What about Rick? I just have to sort some things out.” I repeated wearily.

“Wh-Whatever he did-”

“H-He didn’t do anything?” I assured him as I pulled the door opened and the warm summer air washed over me. “We had a bad adventure, but I’m not going home to stay.”

“Yeah, she’s planning to leave in a bo*uuuurp*dy bag.” Rick slurred, stumbling out of the garage. I rolled my eyes at him, crossing the driveway as Morty berated him. Rick groaned at his grandson before catching up to me. “Nova, wait, I’m sorry-” He started.

“Rick, you’ve done nothing wrong,” I assured him calmly but firmly, I glanced over at Morty, who took it as a cue to make himself scarce. Rick took his absence and opportunity to lead me into his garage and I spared one last apprehensive glance to my house before following him. I suppose I could avoid Ryan for just a little bit longer.

“Nova, I don’t like this.” Rick started again. “What are you going to say to him?”

“I was thinking something like, ‘Hey Ryan, I would really rather fuck the old man next door than you, literally ever again so I’d like to get a divorce.’ How does that sound?” I asked him sarcastically.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t even have to tell him that, you-you could probably just do that.” He grinned devilishly.

Wichgurten

(807 words)

I shook the memory away when a knock broke my reverie. “Au-Aunt Nova?” Morty called from the other side of the door. “C-Can I come in?”

“Of course Morty.”

“Wh-What happened? Where were you guys?” He asked me nervously.

“Nothing sweetheart, just another bad adventure.” I brushed him off.

He caught sight of my packed bag, fear coating his features. “Y-You’re leaving? N-Nova, please don’t go .” He pleaded. “I don’t know what Rick did, b-but you were the one who said he was bad at showing he cares-”

“Morty stop.” I silenced him. “Rick didn’t do anything. H-He probably saved my ass from my own hubris today.”

“Th-Then where are you going?” He demanded. “Why are you leaving now?”

“Beth said Ryan’s been looking for me.” I shrugged. “I can’t hide from my problems here forever.”

Morty was silent for a moment before looking up at me, his eyes stoic. “You love Rick, right?”

“I-I… N-No, o-of course n-not, don’t be s-silly.” I stammered unconvincingly as he stared at me unimpressed. “I-I don’t know, I think so?” I conceded finally. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt like this, whatever this is.”

“S-Since he left?” Morty asked sympathetically.

“I-I’m really not comfortable discussing this with you.” I dismissed him, picking up my bag and securing the strap over my shoulder. “Let’s talk about something else, how’s Jessica?”

“Au-Aunt Nova, I mean this respectfully be-because I love you, but you’re being an idiot. D-Don’t run back to Ryan because you’re afraid of Rick. Love him or not, I saw what Ryans have done to Novas. I-I just don’t want that to happen to you.”

“What are you talking about?” I wanted to ask, but before I could say anything, blast doors were coming up over the windows, blocking any possible exit, save for the door into the rest of the house. Rick stormed in frantically, running his long fingers through his hair.

“S-Sorry Nova, you can’t leave yet.” He informed me, shutting the door behind him.

“Th-The fuck do you mean I can’t leave,” I demanded angrily, pushing him out of the way and opening the door myself to find the house slowly being covered in creeping vines. I slammed the door quickly wearing a terrified look as I turned back to Rick. “What the fuck is happening out there?” I bellowed. “It looks like one of my fucking nightmares.”

“Yeah, you ever pissed off a witch before? I don’t recommend it.” He explained flatly, averting his eyes from me.

“W-Witches are real?” Morty asked horrified as he watched vines cover the window making the room almost pitch black. Rick opened his palm, pressing it directly in the middle to produce a small amount of light. “Wh-Where are Mom and Dad?” He pressed Rick angrily.

“I-I-I-I don’t know Morty! I didn’t see them but I don’t think they were in the house. I heard Beth yelling at Jerry before they got in the car and took off. I haven’t seen your sister though.” He mentioned nervously.

“Summer’s not here.” Morty breathed a sigh of relief as he realized his family was safe, for the most part anyway.

“What do we do?” I asked Rick, doing my best to remain calm. “When have you had any time to be pissing off witches? Did you steal her cauldron or something?”

“N-Not those kinds of witches Nova.” He corrected me quickly. “Witches are a species from the Wichgurten galaxy. They’re sentient fucking plants.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” I groaned loudly. “What did you do to them?”

“A-A couple years ago, I found their planet and they have Ojivardium there, Nova. Ojivardium is an incredible fucking power source, and I may have mined their planet dry.”

“You what?!”

“I needed it more- Look that’s not the point, they finally figured out a way to create power on their own and they found me here- for fucking planets, they’re like goddamn bloodhounds- and they want their vengeance.” He explained dramatically. I groaned, dropping my duffle back to the floor and sitting down at Jerry’s desk in frustration.

“Rick! How are you going to fix this?” Morty asked angrily. “We can’t just stay in here forever!”

“Y-You think I wanna be trapped in here with you for the foreseeable future Morty?” Rick shot back at his grandson.

“What about your portal gun?” I asked, interrupting the two before they could squabble more.

“It's in the garage.” He lamented. “I was fixing the hack job Scar Rick did to it and I saw the vines and I… forgot to pick it up.”

“Rick!” Morty and I shouted in unison.

“I know, I know, I fucked up.” He relented. “I think I have an idea of how to get rid of them.”

I approached the window, inspecting the vines scaling the walls.

Drunk Rick

(533 words)

God fucking dammit Nova.

After killing the entire bottle, I stood up and tried to catch my balance before going to look for Nova. I caught her by the front door still looking morose and pitiful. Her eyes met mine eagerly before she closed them and took a deep breath, apparently trying to will herself to power past me. She brushed past me, knocking my already precarious equilibrium off balance, sending me toppling against the wall. She looked back at me horrified and apologetic.

“D-Don’t worry about it, sweet girl,” I slurred, waving my hand dismissively. “You can run into me anytime you want,” I said with a wink.

“Gross Grandpa,” Summer called from the living room.

“Sorry Summer.” Nova blushed. God, she’s so pretty, like too pretty. Ugh.

“What are you sorry for?” Summer called back, and I could hear her rolling her eyes. “Grandpa’s the one being weird.”

“Sh-Shut up Summer.” I interrupted them, completely uninterested in Summer’s opinion on me hitting on her Aunt. “Nova, can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked her quietly, sweeping my arms clumsily toward the garage. “The garage door will stay open s-so you can flee whenever.”

“I’m not running away Rick,” Nova told me and despite her annoyance, she followed me to the garage. “Make it quick,” she demanded, sitting down in my chair, leaving me to pace nervously.

“I-I just wanted to know what the hell was going on. I-I mean, are you okay? Why are you going home?” I rambled.

“I’m still in shock from everything that happened, Rick,” she told me flatly. “And I’m going home so I can try to never have to go back there again.”

“A-Are you sure you need to do that, right now?” I pressed.

“I’m tired of worrying about it.” She shrugged. “The longer I wait, the angrier he’s going to get, whether he intends it or not.”

“L-Let me go with you.” I insisted, slurring my speech despite my attempts to sound perfectly reasonable.

“Yeah Rick, I’m sure he’d love to see you there too. ‘Hey, Ryan. I want a divorce. I made out with the old guy you really hate for some reason and I liked it a lot more than I anticipated, which I assure you is saying something, so I’m just gonna go do that now, wanna watch?’” She glared sarcastically and I couldn’t stop the smirk forming on my face.

“Oh, you liked making out with me huh?” Goddammit, that was not the part to focus on but yet here I was imagining it as she rolled her eyes and picked her bag back up.

“I gotta go, Rick,” she said, rubbing the spot on the back of her hand, causing a quiet alarm to go off in my arm. “I’ll call you if I need you, okay?”

“Nova, are you sure about this?” I asked apprehensively as I followed her to the garage door. She stood on her tiptoes, pecking my lips softly before grinning despite whatever trauma she must be processing. Her touch sent a sense of calm through me and allowed me to watch her leave without chasing her down and making her stay.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader #cut content

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androgynousblackbox · 6 years

Text

Fic request for @left-handed-rick with the prompt: If you wanna write something fucked up and sad. There’s this idea of a play on “The little match girl” but instead it’s a sad Morty in Morty town slowly freezing to death, and using eating simple Rick and morty wafers to feel warm.

Simple Rick Wafers wasn’t something that you could just find in any corner of Morty Town and not a price that you could pay easily. It wasn’t even meant to be bought by Mortys, because supposedly they just weren’t design to have the same effect on them. That is why it took him so long to find someone who could provide a box and even longer reunite enough money to grab it. He ordered it before just as a luxery, something to try on, and after he was kicked out from his apartment, it was the only good thing left to aspire. The citadel didn’t need Christmas or any other holyday, just because Ricks didn’t want them. But Mortys counted all the day and waited for the right moment, celebrating them between them and the very, very few Rick who gave a fuck. He personally have never met one that did, but some Mortys knew other Mortys who have heard about a Rick like that. According to their own calendars, the one that didn’t follow the ones provided by the Citadel itself, it was the night of Christmas and he planned to gift himself with a good gift. He didn’t remember the last time he felt excited for something after grabbing the box and running through the streets, ignoring the snowflakes that floated in front of his eyes, like any kid that couldn’t wait to get home to open the last number of a dirty magazine. He had seen the commercial. Everyone did. It was like some kind of drug sweet or something, made from pure dreams and good feelings from some poor sap that didn’t knew any better. He came running until the inside of an abandoned factory, jumping over the sleeping figures of other Mortys and cardboard boxes before finally setting inside his own little cardboard house. He always carried his money around with him and didn’t had anything more worth stealing, so at least he could count so he would always find his place exactly like he found it. That is, until someone just destroyed his box just passing through, but that still didn’t happen so he guessed was okay. At least inside they were relatively safe from the snow. It was still cold, though, but that wasn’t necessarily anything new to them. Morty ready himself and opened the box very carefully, as to not make any sound that could alert the others and ask him for a wafer. Oh, no, of course he wasn’t going to share shit. He had worked very hard for that box, expected so much of it and almost risked his life to obtain it. Something that was just about a innocent pleasure, not those that made him feel sick and ashamed hours later. Nope, this was his and his alone and everyone could fuck off. He unwrapped the first one and put it under his nose. Mmm, yes, that sweet, sweet vanilla scent. He hadn’t smelled anything like that in what felt like years. Did he ever do that? He didn’t remember, actually. He didn’t remember a lot about any kind of life before ending up in the Citadel. Didn’t knew if he had a Rick or a family, although he assumed he did at some point, but for some reason they just didn’t take care of him anymore. His story was just the same as thousands of other Mortys. It could have been worst. Some Mortys only remembered the bad things their Rick did to them or were responsible of. He didn’t feel any envy towards those poor fuckers. His Rick was probably an ass too anyway. No need to question that. He licked the side with just the tip of the tongue and felt the flavor of lemon filling him up. Good. Morty took a big breath and let out slowly, trying to remember that he had to control himself and not devour everything like some pig. Who knew when he was going to ever have something like that again? His hand trembled and he felt himself shake. Fuck, it was cold. Why the fuck they programmed the weather to be like that? What was the point? He took from his bag some extra clothing to cover himself. It was much, but it was a little better. Then took the wafer again. “Okay, little buddy “, he whispered, his breath coming out in white clouds. “Work your magic with me.” He took the first bite and chewed on it like a dog a toy. It was sweet, the best thing he ever had in his life, delicious. But that was it. There was no feeling of getting high or warmer than before. It was just a wafer. A wafer that was kinda dried and would benefit from a glass of milk he didn’t had. “Oh, man”, he sighed.

Of course, he should have expected it. Since when a Morty has good luck? No matter. It was still food and by god, he was going to enjoy his food. It was Christmas, goddamit! And fuck the milk, who needed that shit anyway! And so he ate, much calmer than before, while the calm and the quiet of the factory serve him as company.

At some point the weather must have changed because he suddenly didn’t felt cold anymore. On the contraire, it was suddenly to hot to be so covered up. He undressed himself until being left only on his pants, chewing the wafer or at least he imagined he was still doing it. They were good.

He would have liked them more to eat them at the table in the dinner room while mom bring him a glass of something, giving him a pat on the head before sitting next to him. He could almost picture her blonde hair and the red lipstick that parted on a soft smile.

And dad… dad without a tablet, his same brown hair and bland clothing, coming from behind and messing his hair while greeting him before taking a sit too. A redhead teenager appeared then.

“Hey, Morty”, she said and he knew her name was Summer, even though he was sure he never bothered to learn that name. “Enjoying yourself?”

Before he could answer, he felt a hand rubbing against his shoulder and a voice he recognized instantly talking over his head.

“Of course he is, Summer “, said the voice he had heard in television, sometimes in Creepy Morty, sometimes in announcements throughout the city, never that close to him. “The little shit better enjoy the fuck out of those after the fucked up things he had to do to get them. No judging.”

Morty looked up and found Rick smiling to him. It wasn’t just a Rick. It was his Rick. He knew.

“How you do, M-Morty?”, said the old man, friendly.

“What happened?”, asked Morty, feeling a single tear falling from his eye. “Where have you been?”

“Aww, buddy, don’t give me that look”, Rick took the final chair at the table. “It wasn’t intentional, you know.”

“People just don’t usually want to die, Morty”, pointed Summer, crossing her arms. “Don’t blame grandpa. He did what he could so at least you could escape. The sickness, remember?” Morty stared at her without blinking. “Oh, fuck, really? Did you erase that too, grandpa?”

“Hey, excuse me if I don’t want the kid going around having the image of his screaming family falling apart in front of him”, said Rick, shrugging.

At the mention of that, Morty immediately saw it again and grabbed his head. Oh god, he remembered. The scream, the smell of death, the vomits. Rick grabbing him and injecting him with something before pushing him through a portal, leaving himself behind because there was no enough to make two cures.

“Oh, great, now you are done it “, said Jerry. “What is a nice family reunion without some trauma?”

“Sweetie, it’s okay “, said Beth, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Once the thing got to our brains it was all over for us. It was relatively painless and quick.”

“Talk for yourself”, said Summer. “You didn’t see it from the outside. It was gross.”

“Well, guess what, changing diapers wasn’t also a pretty nice look but guess who had to do that fo…”

“Wait!”, said Morty, putting both on the table, making the wafer and glass tremble. “W-what is this? I don’t understand. Am I d-d-dead?”

“Duh”, Summer rolled her eyes.

“Summer “, warned his parents before turning to him.

“Oh, please “, said Rick. “We can cut the bullshit already. He already spoiled the twist so there is no point in act all mysterious and shit.”

“Regardless “, said Jerry, turning to his son. “Morty, we are sorry that things didn’t turn out as okay as they should have but we are glad to see you again.”

“That is what you get for trusting into the Citadel “, Rick raised to his feet. “My bad, little guy. I didn’t know what else to do then. I fucked up”

Morty looked at the wafer and took a bit of one of them. It was still good. He didn’t knew how he could still taste it and didn’t want to question it either. He looked to his grandpa and found him looking down, waiting for his answer.

“I forgive you “, said and Rick visibly relaxed, smiling.

“Well, we have to go now”, said Beth, giving him a little pat on the back. Morty follow her to the front door.

“Where are we going? “, he asked, for the first time realizing he had no idea.

“You don’t have to worry about that “ Rick put his arm on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze. “This is nothing more than our next big adventure, Morty. It’s gonna great!”

The next morning a single Morty reported on the snowdin that occurred in the abandoned factory and a bunch of Rick cops were horrified to find a bunch of his alternative grandsons, unmoving. Forensic would determine later that they must have been sleeping when the ceiling fell off and let the snow reach them.

#rick and morty #my fanfic #rick sanchez #morty smith #summers smith #jerry smith #beth smith

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defunctblogtobedeleted · 4 years

Text

11/15/19 3:33am - goin home, trying new things

So the trip home to see the family was wonderful. Actually I spent a little too long watching TV before leaving and waiting for the gas guy to turn on the heat, so I left a little late and was damn near passing out on the drive over. Had to stop a few times to nap, but made it. Got caught up on The Adventure Zone again. I’m really excited for this new story they’re gonna do, it’s like Harry Potter meets My Hero Academia. Pretty fuckin neato.

But yeah I got there had a beer with my mom and went to the game and froze my fucking BALLS off watching taven play football. ugh jesus. And the poor guys were against a team like 4 times bigger than them, I swear they didn’t get double digit offensive yardage. They’d get an offsides call and start first and 5, hand off the ball to taven three times in a row and he’d pick up 1 yard, 1 yard, -2 yards, and they’d punt it away again. I don’t think I saw a single first down lol. Taven got hurt so we left in the fourth, they were down 77-0 with 10 minutes left -_-

But still, good to see him play lol. It wasn’t about watching a win, it was about being there for him on his birthday. Fuck that sucks though lol. I always hated playing in the cold.

Most of the weekend I hung out with wes at his and jenny’s place. We did hang out with mom and the fam for a bonfire on saturday, I ate as much guac as I could fit in my face, we had a couple beers, made some fires. It was sweet. Then we played some super metroid before I started passing out.

Sunday wes and I beat the game and went to breakfast. My dad wasn’t around so I drove out to visit JMell in NoVa instead. His place is pretty nice, and we mostly watched some funny youtube videos. Good ol Rack Em Willie and other crackhead vids and this guy Super Sus and general nonsense. Couldn’t go crazy because I needed to make it back for work.

So I drove back. Made it to Jill’s at 2 and she helped keep me awake until I needed to get ready for work because I picked up a daytime shift from 7 to 5. And I slogged through that just fine. Got a raise at work, but like the bare minimum, but I’llll fucking take it. It’s been the exact same as every other time I got a raise I think lmfao. A little extra pocket cash to throw at new toys is nothing to scoff at, though, I need another butt plug and stuff lmfao.

I was supposed to roll from there to durham to watch the new rick and morty, but I passed out and overslept by an hour instead. fucking hate when my bodily needs get in the way of me trying to hang out with people for 48 hours straight, yknow? Sucks.

But I went to slosh still, had a lovely chill time. Made plans to go home to Jill but ended up bouncing to another bar with a bunch of people there and drank for another hour. Got me in a little hot water, but whatever. Worth it I think lol. I just can’t help myself from hanging out with as many people as long as possible.

Jill and I woke up at like 2 and hung out most of the day just fucking around watching tv. I bailed to go run some errands and do karaoke. Had to get some epoxy so I could put together my butt plug tail. I finally knocked that out this evening before work, I think it turned out great. Gotta try it out soon :3

But karaoke was quiet. Not a lot of people came out because it was like bitter cold and windy and had been raining all day. So on the plus side I got to sing like five songs. On the downside, I didn’t get to flirt with any new people lolol. An old stripper friend I had made there, Kellene, showed up and we talked about how I was in her dream the night before and chit chatted a bit. Got to sing a little together, I love her fucking voice. But at the end of the night she asked me for some money to help pay for her tab. I was like sure and gave her $8, she said I was sweet asked if I wanted to do anything with her I was like huwhaaa I guess? maybe we make out somewhere? Idk. Then she roams the room around and comes back and asks me for money again and I was like dude I gave you everything in my wallet, you have my $8 right there in your hand. And she says “no this is my $8 I got it from my purse,” while she opens her purse and pulls the rest of the money she needs out of it. I was like... pretty flabbergasted. Like not like floored, more still amused than anything. Drunk people are funny.

Also after I sang some Drake my beautiful bartender Jaime said I should sing Frank Ocean. Killed it singing self control, and she like held my hands and said I love you like she has the past couple weeks. I made a slight mistake and let my curiosity get the better of me. It’s definitely a rule of mine to not ask girls who are working out, but I was just like “look I know this is a little inapprop, but would you want to go out sometime?” and she says “yeah, as friends, definitely.” and I’m like oooooof. She had to take care of another customer so I just walked away from that one. Glad I cleared that up though I really thought she was being flirty and cutesy but I’m just a knucklehead. Could’ve been worse lmfao.

Anyway, went home with Jill, we hung out all day again watching this mediocre 911 show. Kinda fun at points though. It was mostly nice just chilling with her early since I’d blown her off til really late a couple times in a row.

Then spice was last night and ho. my. god. It was the normal confection of watching people get beat, not meeting as people this time around because I knew a whole bunch of people that were there already. But I did meet a few. Hung out with the cute boy from the fashion show for a while. We have these like really awkward pauses in conversation though where he doesn’t like ask me anything and I run out of things to say but he’s just staring at me and grinning so intently. Idk, man. Lol. I was supposed to do a scene that I had talked out with someone, but they unfortunately called in sick. So I thought I wasn’t gonna do anything, but then I ended up chit chatting with Neko and he offered to beat on me that night.

Wowowoww bottoming a REAL impact scene was intense. Like IN. TENSE. like I was thinking about tapping out a few times from the pain of it, but then he’d take a break and scratch me or rub my back and it would just feel so gooooood. By the end I was taking these hits in the back and like shivering with excitement/adrenaline/idk what. He like threw his thigh between my legs while I was up on the cross to support me and started rubbing my back and bit my shoulder and hnnnnng. god I just started lightly scratching and chewing on his arm. I was literally in uncontrollable shivers and giggles afterward, it was actually probably too much lol but I lovvvved it. I feel like I really Get it now. Especially as I sit on my ass covered in bruises today lol. Then my friend Bun squish cuddled me until I came back down to normalcy. Maya and Jill came to watch, actually, they got to see it happen so that was kinda rad. Jill wanted to go dancing at alchemy afterward but I was like no fucking way could I dance after taking that lol. So I drug them out to boxcar with me and we played some galaga and skee ball and foosball and tekken. Me and Jill almost got a shutout on Maya+some rando, and then the randos were like nahhhh so I beat Jill+Maya 2v1. We played again later and I lost the set though. But I was dressed up as a kitty all through boxcar lol, kinda neat. We stayed up til 6am just watching Daria and ranodm youtube shit.

Slept a long time, almost had a weird fight with Jill, smoothed that over, took a bath for a few hours and I’ve been working. Excited to get off though, but not for any reason in particular. Just fuck work I guess? lol.

I really felt like I needed to write about that impact scene while it was fresh. It’s kinda stuck in my head. :3

I’ve got emo karaoke in a few days, should be a lot of fun. <3 nothing too exciting coming up though. Having to schedule a bunch of extra work days to appease my boss kinda suckkssss but whatever I’ll take the money lol.

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nostclgias-blog · 7 years

Text

She was supposed to be making dinner. She was supposed to be writing a paper. She was supposed to be working her shift at the gym. She was supposed to be contributing to society in some way.

Instead, Mallory was lying on her bedroom floor, arms locked tight across her chest, knees pulled up close to her abdomen. Every muscle in her body was clenched, including the ones tightened in her face as she let out an exasperated grunt. 110 crunches later and the woman wasn’t anywhere near finished. However, she knew Noah would be returning soon, and she’d be damned if she let him see her like this.

For as self-aware as Mallory was, she seemed to be able to push specific parts of her life to the back of her mind. Her talent when it came to repression was remarkable. She could mentally reward herself for spending her summer volunteering, but in the same breath scold herself for eating one bite size Hershey bar. Lately, the scolding started at the mere thought of eating something with that much sugar, but in front of her family and friends, she tried her best to be her happy-go-lucky self. Much to her chagrin, that girl seemed to slip further and further away every day.

Could she pinpoint when it all began? No, not even close. When she asked herself what made her restrict her food intake, she had a hard time figuring out what happened. It didn’t have anything to do with the way she looked, or so she thought. For the most part, she loved her physical appearance. When she didn’t, she changed it – hence why she’d gone and chopped off 15 inches of dark brown hair. Sometimes, she wondered if that was what made her want to change everything. She no longer had her signature hair to hide behind, and because of that, imperfections that she could normally cover up were much more visible. For example, the cellulite under her arms, the stretch marks on her shoulders, the fact that her collarbones were hidden under what she perceived as mounds of fat, and how round her face was – and those were just a few of the things that she noticed.

So perhaps it really was about her physical appearance, but Mallory chalked it all up to the fact that everything else in her life was out of control, and not a single person knew about her struggles. They had bigger problems, and she hated to burden anyone with her melodramatics. James was in the army, Caddy was injured, and Noah seemed a bit off, so she didn’t want to disturb them. Her mom was busy opening her dream boutique in Pittsburgh, her siblings had their own lives (and most of them were in college), and her father? Drunk. There wasn’t a single person in the world who she felt would understand or take the time to listen to all the things that had gone on since May.

As it turned out, psychology was not Mallory’s calling after all. In fact, college wasn’t really her thing. Being home with her parents pushed her to achieve excellent grades up until the day she graduated high school. Freshman year of college was all right – she skirted by with mostly C’s. Sophomore year was similar. Junior year, however, Mallory hit a block. She didn’t care whether she finished her homework, tests gave her anxiety, and the monotony of sitting in a classroom for so long truly made her brain a pile of mush. Eventually, her lack of motivation for school made an appearance on her midterms. She wasn’t passing a single class, because to pass a class, you had to show up for it – and she wasn’t even doing that.

It didn’t take long for her to receive letters from her professors explaining that they were dropping her from classes. There wasn’t a single fiber of her being that wanted her to fight for it. Sure, it’d be cool to have a degree in psychology, but would she ever actually use it? Mallory firmly believed in having a job that didn’t feel like a job, and going into a doctor’s office every day or working in a clinic would feel like a job. There was no point in going back, at least not now. She had a job at the local gym teaching children’s gymnastic classes, and she loved that – but even that was beginning to feel overwhelming. It all came down to the fact that she had no energy, and why did he lack energy?

She hadn’t eaten a single morsel of real, nutritious food in longer than she could remember.

Copious amounts of water had become her meals. When the whole house had dinner together, she moved her food around her plate, cut things up, shoved it all to one side and did just about anything to make it look like she’d eaten at least some of her food. If Noah made popcorn when they watched movies, she ate a few kernels and did more sit ups to work them off. The weight had fallen from her like she was shedding layers of skin, but she still attempted to cover up mirrors she passed by often and stepped on the scale several times a day. Those were things that could easily be hidden. Her attitude, however, was a different story.

When the body was empty and low on energy, it became exhausted. Mallory was running on empty and couldn’t stop. The things that she used to find cute and funny were extremely aggravating. Socialization with anyone who didn’t live in the house with her had been completely eradicated, which was quite simply the opposite of how she acted. Normally, Mallory loved people. She loved getting to know them and their quirks. That was what made her so empathetic and patient. The shame of flunking out of college and the constant hiding of her eating and exercise habits simply exhausted her to a point where talking about things seemed pointless. She knew that Noah had to notice. While she craved being near him at every point in the day, she didn’t crave their normal conversations. She craved his presence. When he touched her, she would sink into him as if she hadn’t felt him in months, and other times, she would pull away, not wanting to be touched. The mood swings were sure to give Noah whiplash, and she felt bad for that. What was she supposed to do when she didn’t have control of herself?

Sweat formed at her hairline as she pushed herself to hit 500 crunches. She didn’t have a whole lot of time before Noah would come home. James was a few doors down, but she knew he couldn’t hear her. He had his stupid gaming headset on and was probably cursing at whoever was on the other end of the game. As far as she knew, Caddy was downstairs and hopefully couldn’t hear her – but Noah would go straight upstairs, and there could be no evidence of her strenuous exercise. It also had to look like she’d gone to work today, meaning she’d have to change out of her pajamas and into her leggings and gym t-shirt that read ‘coach’ on the back and ‘Mallory’ on the front. The leggings were purchased prior to her weight loss and fit quite a bit more like sweatpants now, and the t-shirt generally hung from her body like a dress. She’d have to size down eventually.

The sound of a car door could be heard from the bedroom, and Mallory visibly froze. It was a bad time to freeze, but she quickly snapped out of it and began to pull her pajamas off of her now sweat coated body. Once she’d tugged her uniform on, she turned on her heel and headed for the bathroom, sliding on the tile with her socks. She took one quick glance in the mirror, roughed her hair up a bit and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. She’d timed it perfectly. She had exactly 22 seconds until Noah would step in the door and hug her. She had to be dry. The brunette darted to the air conditioner and spread her arms out, allowing the cold air to dry the bit of sweat that still clung to her. She also turned the Moana soundtrack on as she bolted to the stove and poured some water into a pot. Boiling water for pasta, right?

A key turned in the lock on the back door, and Mallory turned around quickly to face the redhead she called home. “Hi baby!” She chirped, or more so croaked, considering she hadn’t spoken to anyone today. “Was today a good day? Did you make good choices? I waited to feed Venus and Serena because I know you like to watch their eyes bug out. Also, there’s a new episode of Rick and Morty! Or maybe it’s the whole season – regardless, I’m making alfredo if you’re interested.” I’m certainly not.

#( &. mallory + noah. )

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ceaselessly-into-the-past · 7 years

Text

belonging

I’ve had a horrific cold the last three days, so as a result this post will probably be even less coherent than usual. I suppose it was about time that my body caught up with my mind in terms of health.

I skipped last night’s 7-10 orchestra rehearsal and plan on skipping all of today - I haven’t missed any of my Wednesday classes so far save for theory, which I’ve now missed four times. The first two were when I woke up with terrific migraines and knew immediately I wouldn’t be able to function in class. The third time was when my tracheostomy tube fell out in my sleep and the hole in my neck had almost closed up completely.

I looked in the bathroom mirror and squinted. At first, in my just-awoken, bleary-eyed state I thought, a stake of horror shooting up through my body, that it had closed up completely. But no - as I scrambled on top of the toilet to get a closer look, I saw that there was a small dot of black in the flesh of that hollow part at the base of your neck. No bigger than two millimeters or so in diameter.

Fuck, I thought, I have to have this cut open.

The problem was that I would have to involve my parents and also notify the school of what happened. And I had no doubt that they would question my ability to live alone in the dorms.

I would not go back to my parents.

No fucking way.

My autonomy was in danger, and so I proceeded to do the following:

I wiped the end of a pen - where the gently-sloped cone-shaped cap was - with an alcohol swab.

Looking in the mirror, I slowly fed it into my neck, not very deep at all, not even up to the rubber part that you hold when writing with it, and carefully pushed. I supposed this was akin to what anal sex feels like, just on a smaller scale and in a completely different location.

Every so often I pulled the pen away and observed. The hole, just as I thought it would, was growing back to size.

I also noticed that sticking a pen in my neck hurt a lot.

After twenty minutes of gentle pushing I decided it was big enough.

I reinserted the tracheostomy apparatus.

Blood slowly tricked down my chest, but that was okay. Blood more often than not stops after a while.

I got the idea from one of those stupid gore-fest Saw movies. Yes, the one where the guy is chained up to a bathtub and he has to cut off his leg to free himself. That’s the first one, which is actually not bad. The series definitely went progressively to shit after that.

When I was in seventh grade I suddenly became obsessed with the concept of death - what a fascinating thing it was, to think that there’s simply nothing after your body expires for whatever reason. Complete nothingness. It was thrilling to me.

After I discovered the existence of the Saw franchise, I often watched video compilations of every ‘test’ in the movies. One of them involved a man whose head was encased with a box that was slowly filling with water. The solution became apparent to him - he had a pen in his pocket, and he had to perform a tracheostomy on himself by piercing his throat with the pen so he could breathe without his nose or mouth.

What fascinated me most about the Saw deaths was that there was always a way out. It was interesting to see who made it and who didn’t. Were the puzzles not lethal, I used to think, this would be an exciting game show.

I was not quite sound of mind in the seventh grade. But I suppose it came in handy in the end.

And now I’m missing theory for the fourth time, because of a bad cold.

In other news, I’ve found some friends, the process of which started quite a while ago.

The annual kick-off-the-year Circle Line Cruise, where Juilliard kids get to go on a short cruise down the Hudson River, around the Statue of Liberty and back up again, was on the 6th of September, 2017. That wasn’t the point, though - nobody gave a shit about the cruise. There was fucking booze on that ship, and kids that were old enough got their starting drinks for the night there while the underaged looked on wistfully. They would get their chance, though, in just a few hours - because immediately after the Circle Line Cruise would come a veritable plethora of wrecked-for-school parties across Manhattan. I managed to get into one on West 68th street. Interestingly enough, Michael - the host - lived in the same complex as the instrument dealer I bought my most recent cello from a few years ago.

Needless to say, I launched myself headfirst into that shit. I walked in and immediately got a shot, then another drink, then a mixed drink to lay off the hard stuff. Mixed drinks, I should mention, are great.

Eventually and inevitably we got a noise complaint from some neighbor and the party had to be cleared out before we got busted. There were whisperings, though, of an afterparty in the back room for those that stayed behind. Naturally, I stayed behind - and this was how I met Andrew.

Andrew, along with another older student, were rolling joints in the back room, and about eight other kids were sitting around and passing around what I know like to call ‘the weeds’. I approached Andrew and without my even having to ask he handed me a freshly-lit blunt. As I got started on it we made conversation - we had a mutual friend named Philip, who I knew in Pre-College and was now a third year. Philip had made a Facebook group called Juilliard Memescript Archives that we occasionally posted in. Andrew was a second year and, as I soon learned, was 'the’ Juilliard drug guy. Andrew, however, was not some pale, half-present white douchebag - he was darker-skinned, for one, and wore glasses and dressed smartly. It was as if he had walked out of an alternate version of the 2015 film Dope in which the protagonists were nerdy Latino classical musicians.

‘When’s your birthday?’ Andrew asked, and I told him that it was in two weeks or so.

‘Really? Shit man, you know what, I’m gonna host a party for you. It’s gonna be fuckin lit. We’ll have some booze and weed and also, I like cooking. I cook a lot because I have my own place and it’s the only way I can get good food around here. The cafeteria is hopeless, you know. Juilliard doesn’t give a fuck about what they feed us. We’ll make some really good food and get wrecked.’

I awkwardly thanked him. In the back of my mind I carefully noted that this might just be some kind of idiotic promise that people make when they’re especially drugged out, but I held on to some hope that finally, someone had reached out to me.

Sure enough, a week later Andrew messaged me asking when my birthday was again and what kind of food I liked. I told him again and explained that I actually couldn’t have solid food, so he should really consult whoever he was going to be inviting.

On the 24th of September I went up to West 120-somethingth street to Andrew’s apartment. It ended up being a small party, with just me, Andrew, Philip, and his extroverted girlfriend Helen, who was also a 3rd year. It was a Sunday and we all watched the new episode of Rick and Morty while sipping the shittiest vodka I’d ever tasted and tried getting high on the little weed available to us. Andrew kept getting messages requesting various drugs and at one point he left the room to make a sale at his front door.

About three weeks later, I got a message from Helen asking if I wanted to be the cellist for her ChamberFest group. Chamberfest was an intensive program at Juilliard where participating students would come back a week early from winter break and spend that week preparing an entire chamber music work to perform in concert for the rest of the returning students. I had tried putting together a ChamberFest group to do Shostakivoch’s String Quartet 6 in c minor - a chamber music epic if there ever was one, I highly recommend everyone listen to it at least once - but things hadn’t quite worked out. Helen told me she was trying to get a group to do Schubert’s Trout Quintet.

‘Yeah, definitely!’ I replied.

The next day I met the other four members in the chamber music office to fill out our application form - Helen, Andrew, Michael (that host from the cruise afterparty), and a girl named Natalie. All save for Helen were second-years.

A week later, the chamber music office emailed us informing that our request to work on Trout Quintet had been approved.

Since then, my home has been our group chat. All of us happen to be, as Helen put it, ‘waaaaaay into not being sober’. So our plans, naturally, revolved around working our asses off during the day and getting fucking destroyed at night. There are talks of dropping acid at some point and evening weed rehearsals to try and get some new ideas on the piece.

It’s so funny. I considered my life until college to be extremely sheltered - I never went out often with friends, I certainly never partied or drank or did anything of that sort. But here I was with Helen, who was notorious for dealing with the shit in her life and in school by smoking weed daily; Andrew, who was Drug Boi(TM) and had been caught alongside his roommate with bags of weed in his dorm room last year (and had luckily only been admonished); Michael, who had an infamous anti-establishment streak with the Juilliard administration (though to be fair, we all did) and didn’t hesitate to trash them in Facebook posts; and Natalie, who seemed to really like wine.

Our philosophy was: Fuck this school, fuck how it disproportionately puts pressure and stress on its students, we’re going our own way and we’re still gonna be good at our fucking art while we do it so fuck you.

I feel like I belong to something now. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt since I last saw my friends from high school in June. But it’s rushing back now, and I feel a new life welling up in the future.

tl;dr ChamberFest is gonna be fucking lit.

#text

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