#I no longer feel terrified all the fucking time. I am able to rest w/o feeling bad about it at least some of the time. it's getting easier.

[giantkillerjack]

[EDIT: SO I MAY HAVE SLIGHTLY MISINTERPRETED THIS AS IT SAYING YOU SHOULD WRITE EVERY STORY YOU THINK OF BUT HEY LISTEN IF YOU HAVE EVER FEARED LOSING YOUR ABILITY TO CREATE ART, I THINK READING WHAT I WROTE MIGHT LEGIT HELP SOMEONE]

I mean, if architects actually built every building they built in their mind while showering, they each would already have built an entire city by now.

If every artist just drew all of the ideas they have on their commute, they would all have portfolios that could fill the Met.

But there are limited number of hours in the freaking day, y'all. Writing is an act of creative construction that requires skill and practice and a lot of time. You can learn to be faster. But guess what! That also takes! A LOT OF TIME!!

Don't be too hard on yourselves. Please. I'm so fucking serious about this.

I get that this tweet is probably a joke, and that is fine. But when I was younger, I would have read this post and then immediately thought about what a lazy piece of shit I was for not having written more, so I wanted to say:

Labor and time are deeply finite resources, and if you are living in capitalism, it pays to look out for language that does not acknowledge this truth!

(It's like when people point out that poor folks could technically eat healthier for the same amount of money: they always tend to leave out the hours of labor thatcooking requires from people who are already overworked! But it is a *cool fun way* [sarcasm] to ensure that folks are shamed for their poverty! Which also helps to keep them in it. Check out the Folding Ideas video about chicken nuggets for more info on that.)

Again, I don't think this person is bad for making this joke; it is not a horrible terrible thing to say and this is a very specific personal reaction I am having. But I just need people to know, in case they are like me, that absolutely no one is writing the entirety of every idea they have in the shower because that's impossible. The only exceptions are people who have very few ideas (in which case I don't think that sounds ideal) and also probably, like, Stephen King or whatever. (p sure he sold his soul to write that fast tbh. don't compare your writing speed to Stephen King, kids; he is a cryptid).

ALSO the POINT of brainstorming is to come up with more ideas than you could possibly finish!!! That's how you find the best ones! By having a lot of them!

And the moment you constrain yourself with a rule that says you have to follow through on every idea you have, your wild garden of ideas will cease to get the fresh air it needs to be free and growing! It will begin to wilt! You cannot FORCE a garden to grow better. You can only give it patience and care. (People are a lot like that too, despite what you may have heard.)

Not to mention, if you try to grow your garden with brute strength, you may end up pulling things up by the roots. Or, even worse, you could end up like I did: utterly fucking terrified as I watched it slowly die - not knowing how to stop it or if it is even possible for it to come back. (There was a garden here, full of living things, and now it is so horribly, devastatingly empty. What if it is empty forever?? What if *I* am empty forever? Why can't I push harder and FIX it??? Maybe if I push harder...)

And if this has happened to you, PLEASE know that IT IS ABSOLUTELY POSSIBLE FOR IT TO GROW BACK.

Because mine did. Better than before, even.

Not the same; never the same, and certainly not easy. But beautiful and mine and stronger and better. For me, it took intensive treatment for my severe mental and physical illnesses. And that work helped me to realize that I deserve to make art from a place of joy. For myself and no one else; not for profit or recognition - just for me. For the first time in YEARS.

Turns out that, for me, this was the first seed I needed to start regrowing the creative garden in my brain. Of course, I had to practice this new self-kindness: I had to keep choosing to do it again and again and again; I had to learn how to recognize and respect my own limits; I had to mess up a bunch; and then I had to try again. And to my absolute astonishment, the garden grew. It grows.

It feels like home again, in my heart and my mind. It is the farthest thing from empty.

I still have to do a LOT of conscious work (this is not the kind of post someone makes when this isn't taking conscious work; it is HARD and I frequently fully miss my body's cues), but I'm getting better the more I practice. And I'm getting... happier the more I practice. Which seems obvious, but it really isn't if you grew up only knowing how to motivate yourself through shame and fear.

And even though this year has been an absolute shitstorm, my garden stayed alive and helped sustain me this time.

I hope I am always so blessed that my shower time is full of more stories than I could ever finish in my lifetime. I hope if I lose it all again, I never forget that it can grow back.

Remember, comrades:

Dead WIPs are just fertilizer for new ones to grow out of.

It is straight-up anti-capitalist and radical to create art on your own terms and for your own joy (though professional artists still deserve respect and fair pay because we are all in this together!)

No garden of creativity is guaranteed to stay dead as long as you are still physically alive.

And if you feel dread at the idea of doing MORE of something you're supposed to love, then... maybe you are already doing your best. And maybe you deserve some kindness for that.

[sunriseseance]

HECK YEAH alrighty here we go then! 1. Broadly: what do you predict we'll see from Klaus in s3? I know you've mentioned him snapping a bit- what're your thoughts on what that might entail? (1/?)

I think that Klaus is experiencing his first full moment of independence, especially power independence, at the same time he is experiencing extreme emotional turmoil. They’ve told us that alcohol (at east) does jack shit to prevent his powers. I think that he has spent a long, long time with people who (IMO) do care about him, but don’t think about him all that often. “Klaus is still Klau” as a modus operandi for the entire family, at least at default. Now he no longer has a Powerful or Moral (although I have my problems with this interpretation) Ben to lean on, I think we’re gonna see a Klaus who is coming into his own, who is hurting deeply in ways the sibling do not (and possibly cannot, Klaus lies and masks A LOT) know, and who feels that the turmoil inside of him belongs outside. 

2. Do you expect to see Klaus’ powers expanded on in s3, and if so, how do you think they’ll go about that? I think levitation and telekinesis would be amazing but seeing as they’ve already given those away to his siblings, I don’t think it’s all that likely. I love your clairvoyance theory (more on that shortly), and I've been playing with the idea of a telepath or empath Klaus, something akin to his "channeling" powers from the comics. (2/?)

I think that probably the primary thing in store for Klaus is commanding ghosts and being possessed. These play together interestingly and are both extremely powerful. He can command an army without a second thought, and they listen to him, but also if he slips up they can jump in his body, he’s gone and they’re in charge. It’s an interesting and fruitful dichotomy and power structure. Also I think he can make ghosts possess other people. They made a big point of showing that Klaus was conscious before Ben entered Vanya’s mind. If he can command spirits, and spirits can possess other people that is a great deal of power. (Also, like, Klaus is able to make Ben not possess him. Neither of them may know it, but he DOES command spirits. He does.)

As to his comic powers, I think we may very well get them!! They’ve teased levitation multiple times in s2 alone, and I think this idea that a show about shitty superheroes would care if their powers were redundant does not quite vibe with me. Like, what’s the point of Luther if Vanya can stop bullets and lift a tank with sound waves. Klaus’s version of TK could EASILY have its own niche (no need for a trajectory or sound waves). I don’t want to promise that it’s coming because, like, focusing on his psychic related powers is more cohesive, but I don’t think that the option is in any way off the board. 

3. If they go ahead and give him clairvoyance, how would you like to see that play out? 4. Similarly, do you think his possession powers will be explored further in s3? (3/?)

I think that giving him clairvoyance would be a very handy plot device on top of being interesting for the character. Klaus’s powers have pushed him to the extremes of apathy. Imagine what that would look like if he has the capacity to know everything? He is a person who deals with the hurt of others by denying everything. He has had too much asked of his empathy and compassion. Giving him clairvoyance gives him access to all the hurt in the world. I would love to see that. I would love to see his brain forcing him to care about people because in this particular regard he CAN 100% help. 

Yes absolutely I think his possession powers will be explored further. I know this is a controversial subject, but I think the show took care to make it clear that is is awful and terrifying for him (however it was for Ben) and that it plays interestingly with his ability to summon and command spirits. It serves as a way to even the playing field, almost. He command them, they can take him over. That’s scary for everyone. I don’t think this is one and done at all. 

4. I would LOVE to hear more about your thoughts on Hotel Oblivion's influence on TUA s3- disclaimer, I haven't read the comics (yet). (4/?)

YES OKAY. Based on my own personal desires and my knowledge of the comics (Sparrows locked up) and also the Sparrow crest, I think s3 is going to include at least some of Team Zero locked in the hotel. It could EASILY be all of them, but I could see Reg deciding to keep Five, and even Vanya. This would be interesting because it allows Five to age, allows Five to rest, allows Vanya to see the horrors of actually BEING on a super hero team, and requires 1-4 to save themselves, and in my IDEAL world, save Five from Reg, as well. It would be so fun to watch 1-4 escape the hotel and rescue Five. IMO the hotel is going to be the best if it is treated as a piece of horror. Not something they can understand, something simultaneously enticing and hostile, and something that they have to fight their individual Bullshits to escape. Whoever is in it. I think that would be beautiful. 

5. How would you like to see Klaus' character develop this season? Seeing as s2 has left him unprecedentedly broken, I think this will lead to an AMAZING pay off in s3, esp when it comes to him being without Ben. His powers have so much potential (even w/o the comic book expansion pack) but they have all have come back to Ben's help. This is true of his choices too- Ben is constantly supporting/criticizing him. I'm so excited to see him alone and newly independent. (5/?)

YES SO MUCH. We watch Klaus shatter and regress completely in s2. I know a lot of people feel he wasn’t treated with respect by the narrative, and I respect that, but my general thinking is that this is a part of the whole, and everything we saw of him is in line with a) intense hurt b) the act he puts on. I think that Klaus shattered in s2. He killed the love of his life, he relapsed, and he did his best to make sure nobody cares about him. Ben turned into more of a harmful figure in his life than ever before, and now he’s lost him completely, left with only guilt, resentment, and complicated feelings. 

I think Klaus is going to actually have to DEAL with himself. He’s been able to deflect or hide or bury his hurt and his power and everything else. Like you said, he relied on Ben for a lot, and now it is only him. I think he is going to externalize the chaos he feels inside (and so does Sheehan), and I think he is going to have to confront who Klaus REALLY is, whatever that means. I think he will admit he is powerful, he is hurt, and he is angry. Ultimately, I think this will lead to him with more balance, and he will have a better understanding of himself. But I think he MUST snap a bit first. Nobody takes him seriously, not even himself. He has to change that before he can move on. 

6. How would you like to see Klaus' relationships with his siblings grow this season? I am wondering how him mourning Ben will be received by his siblings. I am also thinking a lot about whether him hitting rock bottom & truly alone for the first time will push him to be more vulnerable and open with his siblings OR if it'll be his breaking point where he shutters out everything he can, emotions and more OR a mix of both. (6/?)

This is a really good question. I’m not at all sure I have a definitive answer, but here I am typing anyway. I think the obvious setup of the first 2 seasons is that everyone thinks Klaus is fine, and that he can Manage, whatever that looks like. This includes Klaus. So my Most Fruitful Idea is to show that he isn’t fine, in a way he cannot hide. I feel like possession could be a good start to this, but so could him diminishing in his ability to respect ghosts, or many other things. Basically, I want the siblings to see through Klaus’s act. None of them, fucking none of them, ever have. He’s done his best to make that the case. I want the act to spread thin in s3, which I think is supported by how the act looks in s2, and I want the sibs to see through it finally, and I want it to be almost too late because he’s lost and angry and goddamn POWERFUL and he knows them in ways they have never known him. 

Also, I like the idea of Klaus and Allison snapping together. They are the two who lack hope, the two who accept as a blanket the end of the world, the two who enable each other, and also the two who bonded with Vanya. Seeing them go down a dark path, and seeing Vanya recognize it and help them stray away from it? Amazing. 

7. Any songs you would love to see in s3? (7/7) Sorry for the IMMENSE amount of questions, comments, and concerns, I have been pondering these things for weeks and since I always adore your tua content, I would love to hear your thoughts and any input from others!!

YES SO SO SO MUCH

I would love “Be True To Your School” by the Beach Boys because of the 60s and the irony factor. Any Bob Dylan song would send me to an early grave due to joy, but I’m gonna say especially “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” which is an incredible song about futility and trying and hurt. I also love the idea of ANY Masseduction by St. Vincent song, but I would especially nominate Masseduction, Young Lover, and Happy Birthday Johnny. 

ALSO NO NO NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE AT ALL THIS WAS SOOOOOOOOOO FUN OH MY GOD do this any time (or come off anon and into my DMs I promise I’m friendly). Thank you so so much!!!

[screamxqueenx94]

Magic Bullet Part 2/ Teen Wolf Series Rewrite

A/N: I'm finally getting a chance to post this part! I've started working a full time job so I haven't been able to write, but during this time, after I post this fic, I will start posting my AU fic because I no longer have access to the show right now. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: violence

Italics= inner dialogue

"Italics with quotation marks"= lyrics

--------------------------------------------------

Stiles' POV

As Scott and Derek leave, Charli and I stay to clean up. I finish mopping as she finishes wiping down the table. I empty the bucket, clean myself up and head out to Roscoe when I see Charli ahead of me.

"Charli, wait up!" I call out, stopping her in her tracks as I jog over to her. I speak again. "Hey…" 

"Hey…" she answers back. 

"You were uh… you were pretty amazing back there. What with the research, and protecting me from Derek, even willing to cut off Derek's arm if Scott didn't arrive on time even though you're squeamish like me." I praise shyly, rubbing the back of my neck. 

"Just trying to help Scott." She assures me. 

"Yeah, but the way you handled everything, the way you just took charge, that was just… I can't even describe it. It was incredible!" I tell her, making her chuckle as she tucks her hair behind her ear.

Everything she does is so beautiful…

I look down, take a deep breath, and then look at her again. I'm about to say something when her phone starts ringing. She answers and walks away as I turn around to give her privacy. Is it really possible to have a crush on two girls? Am I being greedy? Does this make me a bad person? Am I overthinking this? I'm probably overthinking right? Yeah I'm totally overthinking--

"Stiles?" I suddenly hear Charli call out. 

"Huh?" 

"My dad called me and  he needs me home but my car was giving out on the way here, would you give me a ride home?" 

"Oh, ye--yeah. Totally." I answer back. I walk over and open the passenger door for her. She hops in and I hop into the driver side, start up the Jeep and head to our houses. 

As we drive down the road, 'Lucky' by Jason Mraz and Colbie Calliet was playing, making the moment kind of awkward. 

"Lucky I'm in love with my best friend"

I'm in love with my best frien--" 

My heart for yo--"

I switch the station only to have the  'Way I Feel Inside' by the Zombies come one. 

"Should I try to hide, the way I feel inside my heart for yo--"

Next station.

"But I'm falling in love

"How do I tell the love of my life, I'm in love with my best frien--"

Are you freaking kidding me? Moving on.

"I can't fight this feeling anymor--"

Stop it! Next. 

"But I'm falling in love with the best friend--"

Unbelievable! 

"We've known each other for a long long time, but I never really noticed all the magic in your eyes--"

So much panic right now!

"Accidentally in love--"

I just shut off the radio. I must've been obvious with my frustrations because Charli looked over at me with concern on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, putting her hand on mine that was resting on my gear shift. 

I look down, then at her hand, then back to her. When we make eye contact she quickly removes her hand with a red flush to her cheeks. She's so cute... The drive stays quiet until we reach my driveway. I turn off the car and look at her. 

"So… what was it like punching Derek?" I ask.

She half smiles. "It felt good. He's a jerk who deserved it. I don't care if he was in pain, he was horrible and I'm not okay with that." She answers, playing with her zipper on her jacket and occasionally making eye contact. 

"You really don't like him do you?" I ask.

"It's more like I don't trust him." 

"Yeah, but Scott needs him." 

"Not necessarily…" she trails off.

I look at her confused. "What do you mean?" 

She sighs. "I'm saying that, he doesn't really need Derek, just us."

"You really think we could help him?" 

"Sure, I mean we helped him figure out what he was, I'm sure we could help him control his abilities." 

She makes a good point.

"I'm all for it if you help." I tell her. 

"Really?" She asks.

"Yeah. I mean, why not?"

She nods. "Okay, I guess we'll be his teachers." 

"I guess so." I agree, smiling.

She smiles back. There's a short moment of silence.

"Well, guess I'll text you later?" She asks.

"Yeah, text me later." I reply back. 

"Well, goodnight then." She smiles as she gets out. 

"Goodnight…" I trail off as she gets out. I watch her as she walks away, watching her ponytail sway to the rhythm of her walk. God, she's fucking perfect…

I get out of Roscoe and go inside for the night. I don't bother to change, I just lay in my bed and think about Charli. I think about how to help Scott gain control of his abilities. I also think about how Derek is terrifying, but yet Charli was willing to beat the shit out of him just to protect me. There's definitely something off about her… yet it doesn't bother me in the slightest...

--------------------------------------------------

Charli's POV 

I look around to see that my dad wasn't home yet. Must be another late night at the office…

I take off my shoes and toss them by the door and start trudging up the stairs towards my room. As I turn my bedroom light on, I hear a voice.

"So I'm guessing he doesn't know?" 

I quickly turn towards the direction of the voice, fists up, ready to fight a bitch. I see Derek sitting on the edge of my bed, elbows resting on his knees and has an eyebrow raised at me. 

"Derek! What the fuck are you doing here? And how did you even get into my house?" I interrogate.

"Your window was open…" he replies."We need to talk…" he continues.

I gotta start remembering to lock that window…

"Wh--what about?" I ask, not putting my fists down just yet. 

"About what you are… and most importantly what you want with Scott." 

I put my hands down slowly and start taking off my jacket. I hang it over my computer chair and walk closer to him with my arms across my chest. 

"You already know what I am, why talk about it?" 

"Because it's pretty suspicious how you just got here and are suddenly all buddy-buddy with Scott after he was bitten." He stands up to face me. 

"That's just a coincidence… however, what I want from him is what I already have, which is his friendship. I really need that." 

"Lonely after you killed you mom I take it?" He asks sarcastically, putting his hands in his coat pockets. 

"What did you just say?" I ask defensively.

"Isn't that why you won't tell Stiles what you are? Because you think he'll realize you're a killer and won't want you around?" He continues. Before he can speak again, I grab him by his jacket and slam him against the closet door, shattering the mirrors that the doors were made of. 

"How do you even know about that?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Word gets around… You think you're the only vampire to come to Beacon Hills?" He answers nonchalantly. "Everyone knows you did it, they just won't say anything because of your dad." He continues.

"You take that back!" I threaten through gritted teeth. Claws out, fangs out and eyes glowing. 

"Or what, you'll kill me like you killed her? Perfect, then Stiles will know who you truly are…" he smirks. 

"Oh trust me, he'll be thanking me for killing you. Everyone will…" I shoot back. 

"You had your chance to do that back at the clinic… why wait until now?" 

"Because now you have a fair chance to get your ass kicked…" I retort. 

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands up in surrender. I slowly retract my claws and fangs back as I walk back slowly. He tugs his jacket back into place and starts heading for the bedroom door. After he places his hand on the knob, he looks back at me. 

"Y'know, despite the fact that you nearly killed me twice tonight, I won't tell Stiles what I know…" he states. 

"Why's that?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Because you should be the one to do so." 

I point at my door and reply. "Get out…" he opens the door and walks out, but not before some parting words. 

"Oh, and one more thing Charli…" 

I look at him one last time for tonight. "... don't think for a second that he hasn't already googled your last name and realized it means bloodsucker in Hungarian."

"Bye!" I exclaim loudly, ready to throw a book at that stupid smirk on his face. He closes the door and leaves. Mangy mutt…

--------------------------------------------------

@softpeteparker @mummybear @ficus-fig @music-magic-mayhem @zenawa @stiles-o-dylan24 @cry-btch @maaariiiooo13 @sporadiccookiebagel @bewarethebees @inschi @wil2space @bansheeintuition @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @nicole-lynne @fullangelimagines @kingofmyimagination

[arcanesupern0va]

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.

[writeouttaluck]

Here is a story about my friend getting hit by a bus and then haunting said bus, per her request.

(this probably has a whole lot of spelling mistakes and stuff, but thats because i didnt feel like editing it. enjoy)

Two older men sat in their chairs in front of the bus depot. From their spot, they overlooked all the buses lined up beside each other. Today was a hot one, but otherwise, it was a pretty standard day.

All of a sudden they were both alerted to the sound of a Diesel engine. They glanced at the entrance to find a bus driving in pretty fast. The front of it was covered in something red and the driver behind the wheel looked really panicky.

When the bus stopped and the engine was shut off, the driver swung open the door and nearly sprinted out of it. He ran directly for the hose and bucket outside.

One of the older men just sipped their beer and watched, the other picked up a news paper. Neither of them seemed real concerned.

The young bus driver ran back over with the bucket full of water. In a quick motion, he threw its contents onto the front of the bus and started scrubbing the area with a sponge like his life depended on it. One of the old men set down their beer on the pavement and got up from their seat. He walked over to see what the bus driver was up to.

As he got closer, he quickly realized that the red stuff on the front was not quite what he imagined. It was thick, and syrupy, and it just swirled around on the surface instead of picking up.

The bus driver caught the old man watching him and in a quick motion, he spun around and faced him. He looked terrified.

The old man was still nonchalant about all this.

“What happened?” The old man asked.

“Oh, boss, it was horrible! I-I was doing my scheduled run around the city when all of a sudden this girl just ran out of nowhere!” The bus driver could hardly get the words out, he was shaking so bad.

“Ah, ok. I dont need to hear anymore. Well shit. Its been awhile since this happened…”

“Am I going to jail?!” The bus driver asked in fear.

“What? Of course not. Go grab the pressure washer from out back and use a lot of soap. Blood doesnt come off easy.”

The bus driver stopped for a second and looked at the old man in confusion. Was he crazy?

“S-sir… that woman was killed!”

The old man shook his head.

“She either killed herself or it was natural selection...did anyone see you?” He asked.

“I uh….I dont think so?”

“Great,” the old man started, “clean your bus and continue your run.”

…

It took longer than expected for Terry, the bus driver, to clean his issued vehicle. It was about an hour and a half washing job, and he was still pretty shaken up over it. He just couldnt get the image out of his head.

Like any other morning, Terry drove his bus down down hill to meet his first stop. It was a pretty quiet stop as not many people really used it. most people that lived in that area either drove or walked to work and other places. The bus just wasnt needed as much. Even though the stop seemed to be pretty empty, he figured he would stop there just incase someone was right by or running late. It happened sometimes.

What didnt usually happen though, was someone running into the street. Terry’s heart sank as he watched this small woman run directly in his line of drive. He slammed on the brakes though he knew he wouldnt be able to stop in time.

Everything slowed down as he watched the girl. She looked up at him from the road and smiled wide. She even moved her arms outwards like she was about to hug someone before it happened.

The bus hit her and her body flew out to the sidewalk, a crumpled heap of nothing. Blood had exploded all over his windsheild.

“O-Oh my god!” he yelled.

He knew that if he stuck around that he would get in trouble so he did what all people do when theyre scared and ran. He drove down the rest of the way and made a beeline for the bus depot.

The whole drive there he was gagging and crying and shaking and pretty much having a breakdown.

“W-what the fuck! What the FUCK!”

He shook his head and decided that before he went back to work that he was gonna get a cup of coffee. He hopped off his bus once more and went inside the building for the bus depot. The old man sat back and was doing something on the company computer. He looked away from the screen and watched Terry walk across to the coffee maker.

“Be careful about the coffee maker today. Its been a lot hotter than usual today. I think somethings wrong with it.”

“Yeah, sure” Terry responded.

Terry drank a lot of coffee so he was sure that it wasnt that bad. He grabbed a syrofoam cup and poured his coffee in before stiring in some suger and popping a lid on. He grabbed the coffee and actually started to feel the heat through the cup. It burned his hand a bit. Damn, maybe the old man was right. He wrapped some napkins around the cup before picking it up again. As he turned to walk out, he faced the old man.

“Well! Back to work!” He said sounding exhausted already.

The old man chuckled a bit.

“You will do fine, kid”

…

Terry was back in his bus and driving to his scheduled spots. He had the hot coffee sitting in his cupholder with the tab up so it could cool off. If it was too hot to touch, it was probably too hot to drink.

He went to stop on another hill across town. He slowed down before his brakes shuddered and his cup holder that extended outwards, broke free. Terry flinched as he expected boiling hot liquid to burst into his lap. But when non came, he glanced at the cup holder.

It had broke away completely. But his coffee cup and the napkins wrapped around it, stayed levitating in place.

He looked at it in wonder, trying to figure how tf his coffee was floating.

All of a sudden, he felt a cold chill run down his spine and he shivered. He grabbed the coffee cup out of the air. And like that, the cold went away.

Terry spoke out loud to himself.

“Well that was fuckin weird…”

…

Later on in the day, he was driving his bus with a few passengers scattered throughout. There was an old lady, a mother with her kid, and a teenage boy with his hood up listening to his headphones.

It was rush hour now and the streets were pretty busy. Terry was already behind schedule, but he had been rushing to make up for it all day. He even cut a few corners and took side streets when he could.

At the moment, he was speeding up the street. Not too fast, but not exactly safe either. He was going about 50 when a big pick up truck pulled out of an alleyway and right in front of him. In a panic, Terry swung the wheel to the left in an attempt to avoid an accident. As he started left, a car in the left lane beside him was almost shoved off the road and into a high curb. He quickly realized that there was no way out of this when he felt the cold again.

The wheel was yanked out of his grip and his first thought was that he had lost his power steering.

However, as he fought the steering wheel that seemed to be steering itself, the bus swung around the pick up and past the car beside him in a near miss of a maneuver.

When the bus straightened out, the cold faded away and he regained control of the steering wheel.

Once he realized that everything was fine, he looked in his overhead mirror to check on his passengers.

“Is everybody alright?”He yelled to the back.

The mom, while she looked a bit frightened, nodded her head quickly while the old lady just smiled. The teenager in the back didnt appear to realize what had just happened at all.

Terry let out a sigh of relief and kept on his way, making sure to stay the speed limit.

…

This was the part that Terry always hated about his job. The last stop was near a really bad neighborhood and, considering he was about an hour behind, it was now dark outside. He gave out a long sigh and drove through the area. Cars sat on cinderblocks, garbage fires raged about in the alleyways. Most of the streetlights had that old, orange glow to them. Most of them flickered.

The bus stop was right ahead and Terry noticed a group of young gentlemen sitting on by, watching him pull up intently. Something about the way they watched him come to a stop unsettled Terry. He didnt have a great feeling about this.

He stopped the bus and opened the door and the gentlemen climbed on. However, instead of moving to a seat, they stopped up near Terry.

Before he could say anything, one of them whipped out a large knife and aimed at him.

“Close the door and drive, fat man”

Terry, feeling now obligated to follow the mans request now that there was a large sharp object aimed at his neck, did exactly as he was told. As soon as the bus started moving again, One of the men moved to the money box and tried opening it.

“Hey bus man, open yo fuckin box here”

Terry now started sweating as he realized he cant.

“Uh, S-sorry fellas! I cant do that. Its locked and the only key for it is at the depot.” He spoke trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“Bullshit!” the 3rd man in the back said.

The guy with the knife tapped the blade on the box.

“Open this box, before i open you.”

Thats when Terry felt a cold chill for the 3rd time today. Only this time, It seemed to be coming from the door instead.

The blade in the mans hand suddenly bent itself all the way to the left, before snapping off completley and skating towards the back of the bus.

“What the fuck?” the Criminal said.

“Im tired of fucking around!” the 2nd one said. He drew his gun and aimed it at the lock box before he felt something hit his wrist hard.

“Fuck!!” he yelled in pain as he dropped his pistol.

The third man watched as all of this continued while he stood against the door, still on the stairs.

The door whipped open and he felt something grab his tank top from behind. He was suddenly thrown from the moving bus. The other two men turned to look at what was happening before the bus braked hard. The two men were thrown against the glass of the windsheild. Then, the gas got stomped down and the two men were flung into the metal bars behind them, getting knocked out cold.

They slumped to the floor of the bus.

Terry watched as they were flung out of the bus like their friend before. The doors slammed shut behind them.

At this, Terry wanted to know what the fuck was going on with his bus.

He drove up ahead a bit before pulling into an alleyway and stopping. He stood out of his seat and flipped on the overhead lights.

“Ok, What the fuck is going on here”

He felt like an idiot when he got no immediate response.

“I know theres something here. Dont play dumb with me. Ill have this fucking bus scrapped!”

Again, no response.

Terry was about to give up and drive back to the depot when a mysterious fog formed from nothing in his bus. The temperature dropped drastically. It wasn't just a cold chill, it was freezing.

The windows fogged over, blocking his sight to the outside world. He started rubbing his shoulders as he began to regret his thirst for knowledge.

A large puff of smoke plumed from the back of the bus and a figure moved through it.

Terry was one step from attempting a jump out of his windshield before he gave the figure a closer look.

The figure was the girl from this morning! The one that ran into his bus!

“Ayyy, what it do.” She spoke waving off the fog with her spector hand.

“Its fucking smokey in here, what is up with that”

Terry felt a mixture of fear and confusion at the sight before him.

“Y-y-youre t-t-t-that g-girl-!”

She cut him off real quick.

“Yeah, heh, sorry about that. I didnt realize what kind of mess my body would leave like that”

Terry was 90% sure at this point that he had finally lost his marbles.

“Anyways,” She continued on, “Im a ghost now, and since you were able to help me end my shitty existence like that, I want to help you”

Terry gained a bit of confidence at these words, for whatever reason.

“Help me with what?” He inquired.

“With your job, dude!”

Terry stood for a moment and thought about it.

“So let me get this straight, You want to help me with my job because you were able to kill yourself using my bus? Is that right?”

The ghost, unnecessarily leaned her shoulder on one of the metal poles in the bus.

“Yeah, thats pretty much it.”

“Huh...:” Terry thought aloud.

They both sat in silence for a minute before Terry shook his head.

“Wait, wait a second. How do i know youre really a ghost and that this isnt just some wild guilt hallucination?”

To answer Terry’s question, The ghost walked forward and moved straight through Him. Terry grabbed onto his own body and twisted in horror before The ghost walked back through the same way.

“Alright! I believe you! Enough of that!” He yelled.

“So, we got a deal?” The ghost asked as she raised her hand up to him in proposition.

He grabbed her hand, somehow and shook it.

“Whats your name, anyways?” Terry asked the spector.

“Jada” the ghost responded.

[yusunabydearmstrong]

-. C O R  R  U  P  T U S    V .-

…

"Where… where am I?" Zero blinked before clearing his eyes. "Morty!"

Nothing.

There was absolutely nothing in that room, an intense light that threatened to blind him, was the only thing that bathed that place. There was no one else but silence.

"Where's Morty!"

He tried, then, move to see how extensive the place was, but he was bound with a kind of luminous chain that only allowed him to crawl a few paces; His wrists connected to the floor; And in his neck a collar that he could scarcely felt.

-Time for the transmission of trial for terrorism against the Mortys, starting at-

-Three-

The Ricks' jail was worse than the Galactic Federation one; Being a place where only Ricks were admitted, the punishments were more personalized [Yes, in the Galactic Federation were hundreds of pesky monsters, but that's the only thing the Ricks had to deal with in an eternity; Compared to this place, it was almost a vacation].

-Two-

The base date  reads the worst fears of the accused Rick, and individually were projected on the four walls of the white suite; Making it a kind of 3D assembly that can’t be stopped, with the ability to smell and feel textures.  

Repeating again and again.

-One-

If they had arrested Rick a few months earlier, he might even enjoy his fears. What sense would life have if we didn’t let ourselves fill with our emotions? His fears were also his fantasies: die; a hopefully and a premature pretty death.

But it was a different thing project pain into himself, and another one reflecting it to an innocent person. Damn the moment when he met Fan Morty, all his fears were thrown on him.

The white cell transported him to an alley in the citadel where some unknown subject cornered the child with blows. See him suffer at the hands of some stranger, smell the fresh blood spilling from his body, hear his cries of despair that only called out his name:

¨Help me Zero, please help me... ¨

Zero spent the next few hours in extreme anxiety, every second was worse than the previous one and his limbs tied did nothing but drive him crazy, he knew it was a projection, a farce reality, but when he closed his eyes his own mind played the same game.

He hold on his fear and focused on denying it, and he was doing it right since the voices began to sound distant and the blood he has splashed began to slip away from him, he was gaining against the room.

Or that’s what he thought.

The scenario that collapsed built another immediately but this time, it was strangely familiar, it was his house, more specific the garage. There was no one else but him tied up on the floor, suspicious enough to start a punishment.

Steps along the corridor alerted him a chase, socks on carpet, some things falling in the hallway, and voices that, as they approached, became more and more distinguishable.

"No, please, leave me alone!"

Morty entered the room desperately, closing behind him the door that increasingly threatened to collapse, the boy dressed in white boxers and a long blue nightgown; He looked terrified.

"Zero!"  his face lit up " You won’t let him do me anything, right? "

The tears in his eyes crowned his face and suddenly the door finally gave way. Had been his friend, Writer Rick, the one who was harassing Morty. What happened next was something that might well have written an erotic, sickly novel.

Zero felt a twist in his heart, for a second he forgot that it was all a deep fear and he wanted run to help him. The chains tightened their ankles to the ground more and more, and the mere fact of listening Morty asking for help, destroyed him.

Hologram or not, he had not been there for him, he couldn’t actually remember a single moment when he was. He just stay there, chaining, staring at the little space that his tearful, repentant eyes let him see.

"Forgive me, Morty ... Forgive me, please."

But the Morty, that who had to forgive him, was hundreds of miles away from him; Nobody knows if in the same galaxy. How can we know if he was still alive; Or if he had become one injured Morty more of a million.  

…

"Hi, Miami Morty, how are you today?" The nurse, fussy about knowing more about that extroverted Morty, placed both arms on the counter, seductively.

"Whatcha’ want, sweetie?" - the receptionist informed, without even taking his eyes off the magazine.

"So I bring you a Morty for the Riq IV’s collection, he’s a little dizzy because I missed the dose of sedatives.

"Isn’t that negligence, moron?"

"It isn’t if I was thinking of you, Miami Morty"

The guy lowered his magazine to reveal his ostentatious glasses and his extravagant straight hair. The nurse was just ... a nurse.

"You can be able to distracted by thinking of me when you've discovered something interesting that gives us an advantage over these bastards."

"Oh geez, but my Rick doesn’t usually let me use his lab.

"And mine doesn’t let me fuck him. Fix that and only then can you talk to me again, culero"

The nurse put on a long face as he went to the infirmary slowly, Miami Morty only opened the door behind the lobby and pushed Fan Morty into it. Then he went back to his chewing gum and his turbulent fashion magazine.

The interior was a place bathed in pheromones and warm lights; There weren’t so many Mortys wandering around, but the ones there were...  were really busy between them. Fan Morty just crossed the threshold looking all distant, apparently he was the only one who had something on is body, even if it was an infirmary coat.

His head was spinning, it was almost like swimming in a sea made of ​​reality and fantasy, he remembered everything that had happened, but he was really far from it, Miami Morty entered a few seconds later with a tray of juices.

"Al’ right bitches, here are your medicines, take them before Riq arrive"

"Where I am?" asked weak Fan Morty, Miami ignored his question and put a glass in his hand.

The liquid was black.

"This will help you enter in confidence, darling,  and you'd better take off that nasty nursing gown; For what he’s going to do with you, you won’t need it"

"What is he going to do with me?"

"Whatever I want" Riq IV snapped up, stepping confidently into the room, frightening several Mortys running away from him.

Miami Morty stepped aside as well, letting the adult corral Morty in a corner. This boy could be stoned, but it didn’t take away the fear of that evil being.

"I've heard a lot about you, you've suffered a lot because of us," he caressed her cheek, "and yet, you still want us ..."

But Morty didn’t seem want to answer him,  he heard the words perfectly, though he didn’t quite understand them; Tried to remove that hand from his face, but his body clung to hold the glass that  Miami gave him, In the distance this same Morty beckoning to him that drinking it.

"I promise I won’t hurt you." The older man crouched down to kiss his forehead, all Mortys looking at them expectantly.

Then he kissed him again, this time in the nose, followed by a rose of lips that didn’t get any response from the boy. The shrieks of the other Mortys didn’t wait, Riq IV had never been so kind to anyone.

"You already have"

"What?" Riq sat up.

"You already did..." the disbelieving countenance of the adult, Miami in the distance silently telling him to shut up, the barely control of his body "You have already taken away Zero from me"

The Mortys hid behind Miami, this one was sweaty when the councilman turned to see him.

"You told me he no longer belonged to anyone," he said in annoyance.

"He doesn’t!" Not physically, not legally ... he's supposed to be ready to quench a new master... master"

"I am your only and absolute master now! Do you understand?" adult anger raged against the eyes of Ricks' staunch fanatic.

"Yes." he swallowed "Sir."

A punch in the face was the prize of his audacity, and Rick's Machiavellian smile made the spectators tremble.

"Let's see if you understand better after what I will do with you, you fucking bastard..."

Miami Morty ran away from the scene carrying a few innocent Mortys before they were punished too. There in the lobby, out of danger, stood the lawyer with his arms folded. Like who carries a dog to the aesthetic and waits his turn to leave.

"Mortimer, he did it," Miami shouted. "The Morty Nurse did it, the serum he gave him had the perfect blend of obedience and docility. The rest of the guys have to know this"

"I know," the informed man concluded. "But I want to try with this Morty every serum, I don’t need mistakes for what we plan, body"

"What do you mean? "  Miami blinked. "But it worked very well on that Morty"

"To be able to control someone they have be allowed to forget they past, even to the people that they loved. Maybe this Morty is pretending all this stuff and what if he even remembers his... Zero. The moment he forget about him, we will know if we have succeeded.

"But for that we’d have to try on him all kind of substances! "

"Do you want to be the one in his place?"

"..."

"When he’s done, send him to the infirmary, and make sure I don’t waste my time again with such stupid tests like this."

"Yes, Mr. Mortimer," Miami blurted out, behind all these curious Mortys sticking to the door to see the scene from the other room.

"And Miami, hold on your whores "We don’t want setbacks"

"My... whores?"

"Isn’t what they are?" the lawyer left with less patience than he entered, but with great relief inside. The operation was going well, soon the Mortys would rule over the Ricks. All the pieces fit in their puzzle.

Even Zero.

If super fan Morty was the taster of the serum / machine that would rule the Ricks when the Mortys took over; Then Zero should be the Rick that would be used for the rest of the experiments.

He had thought of an age paralysis, something that would allow the Ricks to stay in that state forever; So the punishment for their crimes alongside the Mortys would be permanent and what better guinea pig than a convict?

A group of his best scientists visited him that afternoon, Zero were only a few hours there, and he was already catastrophically wounded; At the level of consciousness, of course.

As soon as they entered Zero's cell, he didn’t bother asking be taken out of there but know about Morty, his Morty. The lawyer looked at him nonchalantly, his team did what they had to do.

It was still a mystery why there was such a close bond between them. It would be love? Impossible, a Rick could never worry about a Morty, and no Morty could withstand such contempt from a Rick and still love him.

Separate them, then; was an even sweeter taste than victory itself; Which eventually occurred, in favor of the Mortys, clearly.

There was nothing else that could be added to their destinies.

Zero was confined to a joint cell after his 'merced' cooperation to the troops of Mortimer X'043; Fan Morty was treated with supplements and patch of memories that bordered him to run the nursery as in his good times.

But now, the nursery was not housing Mortys but Ricks; and they life continued normal after that.

                                                                     After that…

[klanceandcoffee]

s/o reaction to galra!keith

as it is confirmed keith is part galra, your true feelings are put to the test.

You’d been waiting in the control room, along with Lance and Pidge, waiting for Keith. 

“How long has it been?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

Pidge’s face was grave as she continued to calculate information on the gray tablet. “Too long for them to make it out in one piece”. Lance sucked in a deep breath.

“That’s Keith’s girlfriend you’re talking about. If you get her mad about him she’ll go bonkers.” Lance grinned at you, his brown dimples deeply engraved in his dark skin. 

You winced at the word girlfriend. You had deep feelings for him, you yearned for his touch, everything; and everybody on board the Altean ship knew it. You tried hiding it, but all the paladins except Keith saw you falling for him. Keith was oblivious to your flirting attempts and other tries to get closer.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you muttered, your ears burning indignantly. “I just know him like all of you.” Lance smirked lightly and turned his head to look back at Pidge’s screen.

“Y/N. Y/N! Wake up! He’s back with Shiro.” Pidge nudged you awake gently, pointing her index finger to the now opened entrance door. Rubbing your eyes as your realized you had dozed off in boredom, you shot up and tried to fix your hair, hoping it was alright.

Running over to the central elevator where paladins usually came and left out of, you only had to wait for a few seconds to find, in your delight, that Keith had made it out safely. He was here. Your heart pounded. What would you say to him? 

“Keith! Welcome back!” You said cheerily,  “You did great.” You raised a hand to place on his shoulder, when he suddenly slapped it away. He turned his head, his eyes blazing with something you couldn’t distinguish. Was it anger and fear? You refused to back up, eyes widening in concern at his rough takeaway.

“Are you hurt?” you asked in concern, running up to his face so you would be able to face him. Shiro had already left to discuss with Allura and Coran the things the two had experienced on the Blade of Marmora in hushed whispers. Keith glared at him from across the room, and you flinched. How could someone’s gaze feel so strong; somehow so terrifying?

“I’m fine,” Keith hissed as he walked to his room chamber. “I’m going to take a nap.”

You felt your heart sink as he walked away. No alone time? No hug? Shrugging the disappointment away, you remembered he didn’t even like you as a friend. You hung your head down and trudged toward Pidge. On the way towards them, however, you overheard Shiro’s conversation.

“..es. We’ve found out he’s mostly likely half Galra. There was no other theory of how he was able to activate the Blade of Marmora.”

Feeling your heart suddenly freeze, you coughed loudly. Not believing your ears and wanting to hear the news for yourself, you began to run to Keith’s room. How would he be half Galra.. he should have told someone as soon as he came back.. 

Knocking on the door frantically, you yelled, “Keith! Open up, please. I wanna talk.”

“Go away, Y/N.” the mullet haired boy’s voice had a hint of annoyance. 

“Why? What if it’s important?” you argued.

“If it concerns me, then it shouldn’t matter. Ask Shiro about everything.”

“Shiro could be lying!”

“Shut the hell up, Y/N. You’re annoying the shit out of me and all I want to do right now is sleep.”

 Furrowing your eyebrows in frustration, you sat down in front of his door.

“It must bother you a lot, right?”

“W-what?”

“Thinking about what they’ll do.”

That made him quiet. Then there was a muffled noise as he stood up and opened the door, leading you to fall backwards in surprise. You landed on his feet, staring up at him. Standing up, you brushed yourself off and locked eye contact. His amethyst cold and uninviting eyes looked tired and bloodshot.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” you breathed. Keith glared at you as he turned slightly red. “Are they your moms? Dad?”

Keith, without warning, pulled you into his room and locked the door. “This must never come out of my room, whatever is said right now. Understood?”

Flustered and now a bit scared but still determined, you nodded briskly.

He sat down onto his bed and you duly noted how he slumped his shoulders and his fingerless gloved hands were nervously moving in one motion. “Sit down.”

“They’re my mom’s.” Keith confessed, gently pulling at his gloves as he spoke. “She was from the Galra Empire. My dad gave the blade to me.” you listened intently, sticking onto every one of his words. 

“Can I see it?” your voice acted without permission. You clamped your mouth shut, but too late. He looked at you, and your breath lurched. I take it back, I take it back, I-

“Here.” He took out a blade from his pocket with the same color of his eyes, and glowed with the Galra’s symbol, reflecting off the window nearby. It had been awakened, and the blade had grown sharper, longer. It was a cunning weapon. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured. You felt Keith flinch in surprise. “What?”

“Nothing,” he flushed red again, “it’s just - you’re surprisingly not a dickhead.” you detected a small laugh in his voice, and in response angrily shoved him and he laughed louder.

“One: I am a GIRL. Two: I’m not the dickhead, LANCE is.”

Keith’s light smile faded grimly  as he remembered the paladin. “He’ll probably hate me after this. Allura and Pidge, and Hunk, too.. especially Allura.” his voice was bitter.

“Don’t think about that!” you yelled, your voice echoing in his room. There was a moment of surprise. “Everyone will not think differently of you just because you’ve realized you’re also Galra. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Yes, it does, Y/N!” Keith protested angrily. “I’m not even supposed to be alive right now, let alone a pilot of Voltron.” You fell silent at his side, motionless.

It shocked you.

That he was this delicate.

You’re a blooming rose growing from concrete 

“..Don’t be scared,” you breathed. 

“I’m trying,” he whispered. You lifted your hand slightly to rest on his shoulders, but he didn’t flinch. Encouraged, you leaned into him. Your heart beat fast; I’ve never been this close with a boy before.

“You have me,” you said.

“Haha. Like you’d help me. You’re just a lost girl.”

You flinched and felt a heavy stone on your heart. “I-”

Suddenly hearing Allura’s voice on the intercom that spoke, “Y/N, if you’re around, I’d like to see you very quickly for a moment. Meet me in the control center.”

Lifting your hand away from Keith’s shoulder wretchedly, you stood up. “See you later.”

“Wait.” Keith clutched your hand as you flew up from his bed, causing you to fall back with a squeal. 

“The fuck? Allura needs me-” You stopped halfway as you felt his hair brush your neck. He tucked his hands around your waist, and you sat on his thighs. Your face burned up. “Haha,” you laughed nervously, “you can let me go now, Keith..” He breathed in the scent of you, making a loud breathing noise. 

“Stay for a little longer. It’s nice to have someone here. Sorry for earlier, by the way.” He gripped you needily. Keith felt lonely, you realized, and he needed comfort. 

“Alright. Allura can wait,” you closed your eyes as he hummed quietly. 

“Good kitty.” your ears reddened, which he obviously noticed. He laughed. “Pervert.”

“Shut up!” you yelled as he laughed. Your curious eyes wandered to the top of his head suddenly. Keith’s purple gazing eyes had faded, and been replaced with a pair of bright yellow, glowing balls like the sun. There were two large, fluffy ears that sprouted out his head, a furry (!!) tinted purple color. His face was changing into a purple shade, with a pair of sharp fanged teeth that jutted out his mouth. “Keith.. you’re really..”

He looked down. “You can hate me if you want. I know your parents..” Keith had stopped talking. You had put your index finger gently on his mouth. 

“I know,” you whispered, “but I can never hate you.” Your voice was choked with lust. You cupped his cheek, knowing he would probably swatting it away, but he didn’t, your eyes gazing into his true form. He stared back intently and didn’t move.

Stay like this. I need to relish it. This moment..

Before you knew it

his face was closer to you

and his eyes were those normal beautiful amethyst color,

and his ears weren’t furry 

and his skin was normal

and you could see his expression clearly now. 

Do you love me back? You looked at him, asking him silently.

He looked into your eyes, and pressed his lips to yours, wrapping his free hand towards the back of your head, pulling you in closer.

Yes, it was like Keith replied, he loved you back.

[sapphossweetheart]

It was day five of this bullshit. Ed was sweaty with exhaustion, though he’d hardly put forth any physical effort. They’d been trying for hours on end to try and get him to show his powers, but they had yet to run into any positive sign; they had tried everything they could think of, from trying to get him to show it through combat to him meditating in a room that was pitch black but one little candle to create shadow. Ed was beginning to feel hopeless. Envy had been edging him on, and Al had explained in great detail how he controlled his. Yet, they hadn’t had an ounce of success.

“Okay one more attempt, then we’re done for today,” Envy called out. Their tone didn’t show much hope. They sat on one of the many pipes running through the lair, leaning back. They weren’t even looking at Ed. Ed pouted. They could at least feign some faith.

He sighed, and went to focus his energy again. At this point, they were throwing shit at the wall, hoping something would stick. He heard Al in the background, reminding him of how he does it, but he didn’t bother to listen. He knew it all by heart at this point. He pressed his hands to the ground, tensed as he began his thousandth attempt. He focused his mind, tried to focus on the shadows, to think of transmuting them into objects like he would any other material. He strained against the restrictions of his mind, strained to get even a touch of control over the darkness.

Nothing changed.

He released a pent up breath. “Nothing,” He groaned.

Envy and Al sighed. They, too, were tired of getting nowhere, no matter what they tried or how much effort they put into it. Al patted Ed on the back, as if it was gonna make him feel any better. Envy hopped off their seat and walked over to Ed with a hand on a hip and resigned expression.

“Ugh, this is getting tiring,” Envy commented, sitting next to Ed.

“Yeah, no shit,” Ed replied, balling his hands into fists. He was more tired of it than anyone. With all the effort they put forth, no progress was made towards any conclusion. No sign of his abilities. The only thing the past five days had pointed to was the conclusion  Ed didn’t want to acknowledge; there was nothing special he could do. He brought nothing to the table that any human with some alchemic skill couldn’t achieve.

Ed hadn’t been there long, but he knew three things about Father: One, he was the creator of all the homunculi, two, he was terrifying, and three, he wasn’t gonna bother with him if he didn’t prove useful. Ed didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t show anything. He didn’t care to find out.

“I think we may have to wait until Ed is forced to use it,” Al sighed, continuing to absentmindedly rub Ed’s back.

Ed looked at Al’s unchanging metal face. “Forced?”

“Well we learned about mine after I lost my body,” Al elaborated. “I was thrust from my body and reduced to a shadow. All of a sudden I knew how it felt, and that I could. At this point, I don’t think we’ll see anything unless Ed ends up in a life or death situation.”

“I gotta second that, kid,” Envy added. “We should kick this shit to the curb and hope it pops up at some point down the road.”

Ed opened his mouth to refute, to say if they keep going they’ll reach it eventually, but he knew they were right. He didn’t like it, but his distaste for it doesn’t mean it isn’t the truth.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright bitch wake up, we’re trying something new today!”

Ed groaned and sank deeper into his blankets. He swore he’d only been asleep for a couple hours at most, and he was not in the mood to get up, much less to get up and practice combat. There’s no way Envy could’ve thought he’d gotten enough sleep; by this point they have to, at least, have a decent grasp on his sleeping needs, and was actively ignoring them. They could fucking wait a few extra hours for him to get well rested.

His blankets were yanked off of him, introducing unwelcome cold air to his skin. “Are you gonna get out of bed or am I gonna have to drag you?”

“Why do you have to wake me up so early?” Ed whined, forcing his eyelids open against both his and their wills. He glared at Envy with all the hatred he could muster.

They were unperturbed. “What’s that look for?” they asked, feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what it’s for,” Ed pouted, turning on the bed to face away from Envy.

Envy sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. “Aw, cheer up kid.” They laid a hand on Ed’s arm and kneeled to get on Ed’s level. “After this I’ll get you ice cream or something. Make it a fun day.”

Ed turned back over, meeting Envy’s soft gaze. “You promise?”

They ruffled Ed’s hair. “I promise, don’t worry.”

Envy stood, absentmindedly wiping their knees. “Breakfast is on the table. Meet me in the training room when you’re done,” They turned on their heel and head out of the room. They paused, and called out over their shoulder, “Don’t take too long!” and left.

It took a moment for Ed to muster the resolve to get out of his little patch of sleep-warmth. He forced himself to get out of bed, bemoaning the loss of his covers. Once up, he trudged over to the table, shoved the food into his mouth even though his stomach was as asleep as he wished he was, and made his way to the training room.

The room wasn’t remarkable in any way; it was a large, open room with nothing breakable inside of it. The thing was, there was nobody inside of it either. Ed frowned. He was sure this was where Envy said to meet them. Maybe he’d misheard them? He couldn’t think of any other place he might’ve misheard ‘training room’ for, but-

“THINK FAST!”

Ed dived, rolled, and got back on his feet in a matter of seconds. Right where he had been standing was Envy, crouched, the floor under them cracked from their landing. Ed opened his mouth to ask what the hell was that, but Envy leaped at him again, grinning like a cheshire cat. Ed leapt back and clapped his hands to transmute his arm.

“Absolutely not!” Envy pounced on Ed again, braced to take him down. Ed barely made it out of the way, and didn’t even have a moment to breathe before Envy attacked again.

Why won’t they let me transmute? Panic threatened to overtake him. Every time they’d fought before, he’d been able to practice using his alchemy. But Envy wasn’t letting him this time. With his lack of sleep, he knew he wasn’t gonna be able to keep dodging for much longer. He had to go offensive.

Ed ducked under an attack, and drove a punch up Envy’s chin. Or he tried to. Envy leaned back and kicked at Ed’s feet. Ed stumbled, regained his balance, and attacked again, looking for an opening.

Punch. Dodge. Miss. Duck. Block. His breath came in ragged gasps and his body felt like it was about to stop working, and Envy wasn’t getting slower. Anger bubbled in his chest; he wanted to scream with frustration, and punch that stupid grin off Envy’s face. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t get a decent hit in, not one good enough to consider him the winner.

His frustration clouded over his logical thought. Envy came at him, and he glared at them, fists raised, legs braced. They grabbed him by the shoulders to take him down, Ed’s right arm shot up to hit them in the face, and his left hand reared back and he hit them in the stomach.

And his hand came out the other side.

Envy’s grin morphed into a perfect ‘o’ of shock, and the pair fell to the ground, landing next to each other. Ed’s anger fled and was replaced with pure horror. His arm was buried to his elbow in Envy���s stomach, a red light crackling around it.

“Holy fucking shit,” Envy whispered, staring wide eyed.

Ed pulled his arm out of their stomach, staring at it with wide, terrified eyes. Where his hand used to be, a large, bone-like spike protruded out of his wrist. He clutched it with his automail hand, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. What the hell did he do?

Envy sat up, their regeneration abilities making quick work of the gaping hole in their stomach. They looked at Ed’s face, took in his horrified expression, then followed his gaze. If their eyes could get any wider, they would’ve. No wonder their efforts to get Ed to control the shadows came out fruitless, it’s because that wasn’t part of his abilities at all. He was like Envy; he could shapeshift.

“Ed?” No response. They tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, Ed?”

Ed continued staring at his arm. Then he started screaming. His heart beat at a rate he would’ve thought impossible.  Tears overtook his vision, and his lungs weren’t able to pull in enough oxygen. He recoiled away from his hand, crawling back like he could get away from his own body.

“ED!” Envy cried. They enveloped Ed in a tight embrace, gently running their hands through his hair. Ed kept sobbing and his right arm clutched Envy desperately. He buried his face in their shoulder, like he was trying to hide within them.

“W...why did it..” Ed choked out.

“Shhhh…” Envy hushed, rubbing Ed’s back. “Calm down, we can fix this.”

Ed sniffed, tears still running down his face. “H...How?”

Envy grabbed Ed’s left wrist and took his head out of their shoulder. “Okay, listen to me very closely. You listening?”

Ed nodded.

“Okay, close your eyes and picture your hand; how it is normally.” Envy ordered.

Ed took a deep breath, steadied his heart, and closed his eyes. “What now?”

“Now, try to move your left hand.”

“But I don’t have a left hand!” Ed exclaimed, his breath quickening again. “That’s the whole problem-”

“Shhhhhh,” Envy quieted. “Don’t think about it. You can’t overthink this. Just do it.”

Ed, once again, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Red, alchemical light crackled around his hand. The spike split into five sections, which morphed back into flesh and muscle. After a couple seconds, Ed’s hand was back, as if it had never changed in the first place. His eyes flew open, and he stared at his returned hand, mouth agape.

Envy heaved a sigh of relief, a weight they didn’t know they had lifted off their shoulders. “See, there we go. We were able to fix it,” They smiled at Ed, who had a weak, relieved smile.

“I guess...I’m not like Pride or Al, but like you?” Ed asked, looking back at Envy.

Envy’s smile widened. “Yeah, like me.” They wrapped Ed in another hug, and pressed their face to the top of his head. “Now we’ll have to add shape shifting lessons to your schedule.”

“You’ll teach me?”

“Well, I don’t think anyone else fucking will, so yeah. I will.” Envy ruffled Ed’s hair, before standing  and helping Ed to his feet.

“Will you teach me now?” An excited smile grew on his face.

“Soon. For now, about about I treat you to that ice cream I promised earlier?” Envy said, laying one arm on Ed’s shoulders.

Ed’s head bobbed excitedly. “Can I tell Al about this first?”

“Of course.” With that, the pair left the room, smiling like fools, relieved they’d finally figured out Ed’s special ability. Envy noticed their chest was lighter then it was before, and it hit them; Ed had shown his ability. He was safe from Father, and that ability kept him more separate from Pride than they’d originally thought. He was safe.