#evil morty fanfiction

[bouncybongfairy]

I love your evil morty fics so much! Not alot of people write for him so I was really happy when I found your account haha

I was wondering if I could request an evil morty x reader fic where it takes place in s7 ep 5 (unmortricken)

reader and morty both work to make the planet their "home," killing aliens, taking crystals, bulding their house, etc (morty is mostly the brains though, we're just there as a sort of bodygaurd/we watch his back so he doesn't get surprise attacked by some alien)

and if possible could you add some smut before his force field gets compromised? preferably where he starts rough due to all the stress from fighting aliens all day then when he finishes its softer and fluffier

hope my request made sense haha, thank you so much! 💖

Hard Feelings

Evil Morty x Fem Reader

Summary: After breaking through the central finite curve, Morty and you have been having some tension building up because of the stress. Things come to a head during a mission which leads rough words and hands exchange between the two of you.

Word Count: 3.0k+

(!Spoilers from Rick and Morty Season 7 EP 5!)

(!This fanfic contains rough and dark depictions of sexual content!)

Shout out to @kaionyx whose account I used as a reference. Not super familiar with.. all that kinda stuff, his blog really helped so, I'll give credit where it is due.

Shout out to the person who sent the request. Hope I did you concept justice.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Morty’s plans to break through the central finite curve were completed. Finally able to be in a dimension where Rick isn’t the smartest asshole in the galaxy. Even though he was free from the shackles of being at Rick’s disposal, he still seemed to try filling some unknown void. It was never your place to say but there were times where Morty’s morals were becoming less and less clear. You were still grateful that he brought you along. He could have left you in your original universe but he saw something in you that couldn’t be replaced. Right now you guys were in the middle of an adventure, trying to find a certain rare type of crystal that Morty wanted to try using to power the planet's force field. He still hasn’t been able to find a crystal that can sustain his tech longer than a couple hours. The mixture of stress of constantly crystal searching and the insecurity that was caused by not figuring out exactly how to fix the problem was eating away at him. If that wasn’t enough fuel to the fire, he also was dealing with his feelings of arrival fallacy. Despite your warnings that getting away from Rick wouldn’t just magically take away the trauma, he chose to die on that hill. At times you thought it caused him to resent you when he was in a grumpy or insecure mood. 

Right now the both of you were in the ship; following the target of a crystal score Morty was pursuing. The ride was silent, it was 29 hours into the mission and the both of you were sleep deprived. As you dissociated, your mind wandered to the events that occurred two days before. Morty was working on the plans for the current mission, sitting at their kitchen table. He’s built the bunker to look like an average home on earth in order to make you feel more comfortable. You were in the kitchen making dinner for the both of you. It may seem like stereotypical domestic bliss but you didn’t cook for Morty because you had to. Simple things like cooking or reading a book in the lazy boy that helped block out the horrors from adventures and missions. Everything was ready and you were making his plate when you heard him let out a deep breath from frustration. His face was bright red and was letting his head hang off the back of the chair. You set his plate on the table and came around and stood behind him. While you kissing the top of his head in order to comfort him, you noticed that he missed a step in the formula of an equation, 

“Look, you were supposed to subtract 0.836 before multiplying by the distance and speed,” you said. He pushed back his chair and led you into the living room before going back into the kitchen and started smashing his chair against the floor. 

You immediately ran back into the kitchen and asked him what the fuck he was doing. He completely ignored you and continued his rampage. It was pointless trying to stop him, he was too far gone in his frustration. Grabbing his blueprints to make sure they didn’t get ruined, in case he wanted them when he sobered up from his anger. By the time he was done, he was practically panting. He’d smashed all four chairs that had previously surrounded the dining room table. He pulled his shirt off and wiped the sweat off his face. Throwing his shirt over his shoulder, he ran his fingers through his hair to keep the damp strands off his face. He pulled the portal gun out of his waistband and opened a portal underneath the pile of broken wood and cushions. Letting it drop into an unknown location, so he didn’t have to clean it up. He grabbed the plate and kissed you before walking into the living room to watch tv on the couch while he ate. For a while you stood there, feeling confused and frozen. You’d seen Morty go crazy while hunting and stuff but never inside at home. 

“Come eat with me!” he called out, not in an aggressive way but that just made you even more confused. The fact that he was acting like nothing happened. You made yourself a plate and joined him on the couch, trying your best to appear unaffected by the event. 

“Were here,” Morty said, breaking you out of the dissociation. 

Following Morty as you exited the ship, carrying a gun in each hand. Looking out for any monsters and he was collecting crystals. It could be the lack of sleep but you could not stop thinking about his freak out. It bothered you that he wasn’t communicating his feelings to you. It also made you insecure about how he felt about you. Painfully obvious that he wasn’t happy with himself and as his girlfriend that has to be partly your fault right? Not to mention you were tired, running on literal injections of adrenaline. The fact that you both hadn’t had sex in a while like literally since he broke through the central finite curve. It just made you feel like he didn’t care anymore or that he had much more important things to do other than well… you. Bringing this up to Morty made you insecure, he rarely showed emotion even before all this shit. So it just felt like you’d be bothering him with something that is so juvenile compared to what he’s dealing with. 

“If you have something to say you should just say it.” Morty stated, as if he was in your mind as you were overthinking. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked flatly. 

“Do you think I can’t tell when you’re bothered by something?” he asked as they walked through the dense foliage. 

“Oh that’s rich,” you practically laughed. 

“Excuse me?” he asked. 

“Are you on fucking crack? You literally went completely feral when you were making the plans for today. Then acted like nothing happened at all, so it’s weird as hell that you’re projecting that shit on to me,” you said, shooting at a large cat-like species that was running towards the two of you. 

“All I said was that I could tell something is bothering you,” he said. 

“No you also said that if I had something to say then I should just say it. Just in actuality I can communicate my feelings in a mature way without smashing shit like a child,” you said.

“Oh yeah great notes, i’m glad you have so much free time on your hands that you can categorize what icks I give you,” he said flatly.

“Please, do me a favor and get your ego in check. We both know if you didn’t need me I wouldn’t be here. I have free time the same way you have your mental health under control and we both know neither of those things are true,” you said, now not masking the irritation in your tone. 

“For sure let me just check that out, last time I checked my ego is backed up by the fact that I can do anything. Should I dull down my ego and aww jeez myself asleep every night? My ego is the reason why we're here,” he said, you could tell he was getting more irritated. 

“Fuck you! Ugh you’re such a fucking dick some times, what the fuck is your problem?!” you screamed, stopping dead in your tracks.

“I'm sure you would love that but still have work to do,” he grumbled.

“Careful their buddy, the God complex you got from your fucking grandaddy is showing!” you said, throwing one of your guns at his back. He stood still for a while, rubbing the back of his neck. Even though he wasn’t facing you it was obvious that his anger was through the roof. He turned around and walked towards you in an aggressive manner. Due to your sleep deprivation and frustration you didn’t let your body language show any weakness like you normally would have. You had your arms crossed over your chest and a wide foot stance. The other gun still in your hand, he was now as close as he could be without being pressed against you. His eyebrows were furrowed and sweat dripped down his forehead. Red in the face and breathing heavily. 

“Am I supposed to be intimidated? Cower down? Beg and plead to stop fighting? You’re fucking crazy if you think I’d beg for shit! Fuck you for real like fuck you.” you hissed. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked as he backed you against a tree. You didn’t know what to say, you were mad but at the same time you’d be lying if you didn’t feel the sexual tension. When you didn’t respond he continued, 

“You said you wanted me to be more open about my feelings right? So let me take my feelings out on you right now, I'll show you exactly how I feel,” he said. 

You knew a deep red blush was painted over your cheeks. His eyes were glazed over and every time his breath hit your face, you could feel your cheeks prickle and tingle. He looked feral and had the same look in his eye from when he smashed the furniture. Part of you felt like this was a Catch 22; on one had been in a dry spell for two months and you were just about as sexually frustrated as someone could be. On the other hand, it kinda felt like giving into his advances would be a sign of you admitting defeat. Morty could tell you were weighing out the pros and cons of the situation. His hands began to wonder, running up and down your back. Goosebumps covered your skin as he did, you could control your facial expressions but couldn’t help how your body reacted to his touch. You managed to keep the same unaffected facial expression as he pushed his limits. Somehow he manages to take a step closer, pressing his groin against your crotch. Feeling how hard he was made your core burn and throb. He moved your hair and moved his lips so they were hovering over your ear before whispering,

“I want to build and destroy you over and over again,” he growled in ear.

You were losing the mental battle of maintaining your stubbornness. Giving into him would be admitting weakness and defeat in the mind games you were playing. There wasn’t anywhere to go, you were completely smashed against his body and the tree. He moved his mouth from the ear to your neck. He was breathing against your skin, rubbing his nose up and down. You held back a shiver, leaning over to the side in hope to give your skin a break from the sensitivity. Running his hand up your back, he gently tangles his hands in your hair. Slowly tightening his grip on the soft strands. Grabbing your gun he kills another animal that was running to attack. The loud crack of the weapon was similar to when the gun goes off in a race. You smash your lips against his, fully letting your body melt into his arms. He pulled away from your lips and sunk his teeth into your neck, hard enough to break skin. Squirming away from the burning and stinging but every time you did, he got more aggressive. Every once in a while you’d hear a couple of strands popping. 

“Is that why you’re being so difficult today? You wanted my attention, hmm?” he asked, his tone was ragged and low. 

“Holy fuck.. okay,” you half mumble half moan. 

“Can’t even hold a conversation because the only thing on your mind is being pounded, such a dumb little whore,” he said, pushing you down to the ground. 

It was a lot more aggressive than normal, ripping your shirt exposing your tits. His eyes were wide yet he still kept his eyebrows furrowed and angry. You went to reach for his belt but before you could reach it, he slapped your tit so hard it made you gasp. It’s not necessarily that you weren’t into how dominant he was being. It was making you nervous because this was the first time he wasn’t holding back. You could feel your body shivering in excitement and anticipation. Again you reach for his belt again and in return his palm and fingers smacked against your face. Whipping your body to the side due to the force and the fact that it was completely unexpected. You were laying on your back and before you could finish reacting to the slap, he was on top of you. Using his knees to pin down your things, his legs digging painfully into the muscles of your thigh. Pulling out a dagger from his waistband, it was long and curved kinda like a claw. Using it to cut a hole into your cargo pants, ripping at the fabric. The tip of the knife nicked you, taking in a sharp breath mixed with a gasp. Instinctually you got to sit up and investigate the wound. He pushed you back down into the dirt, a couple of sharp rocks digging into your back. Looking up and staring at him; the sun was beginning to set creating a glow of burnt orange and red illuminating his figure from behind. Now that it was starting to get dark, more creatures from the dense forest were waking up and getting hungry. Every once in a while using his laser gun to kill anything that gets too close. Eventually growing tired of the constant monitoring he puts up a force field. 

“Now: you can take my belt off,” he said, still gripping the blade menacingly.

At first, you were nervous to make any sudden movements. You sat back on your knees, the dirt and gravel on the ground was becoming increasingly bothersome. Slowly you reach up and start to undo his belt, he raises the knife up and starts gently grazing the sharp tip against your jaw. Your hands were shaking from adrenaline, excitement and a little fear. The belt was now fully undone, he was still looking down at you. His silence was making you nervous, you didn’t want to provoke him by doing or saying the wrong thing. After a couple moments of waiting for instruction, you become impatient and reach up again pulling his boxers down. He lets you expose him but then uses his other hand to grab you tightly by the jaw. 

“How dumb are you? What is it going to take for you to learn to do as you're told?” he spat, creating a small scratch on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, becoming mentally exhausted. This was your 31st hour without sleep and it was starting to affect your patients. 

“Not yet,” he laughed. 

He flipped you over and immediately crawled on top of you. His exposed member pressing against you from behind. Your thoughts were becoming foggy, like you were intoxicated by your arousal and desire. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he pinned your head to the dirt. Every time you exhaled the dirt would fly up a little, like a plume of smoke. You were bucking your behind against him, trying to initiate some type of contact with your sexes. He took this as a sign of defiance, almost humoured that you thought you’d deserve his cock yet. 

“Did you really think you’d get your cunt touched without begging?” he growled. As soon as the words fell from his lips, fire and ice began running through your veins. You were accepting your fate, he was right and you were wrong. He was relishing in the fact that he was breaking you down piece by piece. After you had played a big game about essentially being immune to his mind games. 

“I’m sorry, okay. Please!” you cried out, trying to press your ass against him but couldn’t. He adjusted his position, his tip now pressed against your entrance. Using his head to spread your moisture around your lips and clit. 

“Being treated like this gets you off? Having to beg for it makes you this wet? I thought begging was beneath you, say it, that you’re too good to beg,” you were panting and drooling, part of you wanted to hang on to that stubbornness. That maybe your dignity could be somewhat salvaged, you stayed silent trying to figure out what to say; whether to give in or keep fighting back. He was getting irritated waiting for a response and began slapping his dick against your pussy. 

“Say. It.” He ordered with a low yet strong voice.

“I’m not t-too good to b-beg,” you whimper out, a tear of humility streamed down your face. 

“What? You sounded so sure earlier though.. Say it again, just so I know you’re serious,” he growled, running the blade down your back. As bruised as your ego was, you couldn't lie and say you weren’t equality as turned on. Part of you felt a little ashamed that you’re enjoying this level of domination and humiliation. 

“I’m not too good to beg you! J-just please I can’t-!” you practically shrieked, not being able to take the anticipation and teasing anymore. 

He then lined himself up and slid into you. You tighten yourself around him, fully enjoying the feeling of his throbbing member filling your needy hole. You’d learned your lesson and let him take the lead, using your body however he wanted. His hip bones were stabbing into your ass but you didn’t care. Being sexually frustrated for weeks mixed with being teased mentally and physically made you overly sensitive. Your walls were burning but from a mix of immense pleasure and slight pain from how fast the friction was. His body was fully pressed against yours, fucking you into the ground. Your head was between his elbows and forearms. The side of your head was fully pressed against the dirt, tears turning into mud and sticking to your face. His lips were pressed against your ear, groaning and whispering vulgar nothings. 

“I- can’t, please, it h-hurts,” your words came out garbled and hoarse. 

“You want me to stop? Can’t take it? That’s okay, just say so,” he groaned into your ear. It wasn’t like you were lying, you didn’t think you could take much more. You wanted more though, so you shut your mouth and continued enjoying being stretched. 

“That’s what I fucking thought, silly little cumslut,” he growled, pounding into you harder than you thought possible. 

The force field was beginning to fail, getting smaller and less protective. He pulls you up, putting you in doggie position. Your knees were being scrapped by the rocks and gravel. He spit on his dick as he continued pounding into you. Using the gun to kill creatures trying to break through the force field. Both of you were getting close, his thrusts were becoming more erratic. Feeling you pulse and tighten around you. The gun was getting hot due to rapid use, noticing this: he remembers when you threw it at him. So he pressed the hot barrel against your lower back, right where a tramp stamp normally would be placed. This intense pain combined with the pleasure and overstimulation was enough to send you into climax. Even though you were nearly passed out, you could tell he was cumming into you. It was like he cock pressed deep enough into your spasming cunt. As soon as you were done riding out the high, you passed out.

[rustychainsnorter]

You know what I'm excited for the most about season 8? Everyone coming together.

I'm excited to see all of the fanart; artists' bursting to life with inspiration and creativity.

I'm excited to see fanfic writers flourish and set sail with their imaginations.

I'm excited to see all the fan theories and analysis.

I'm excited to see season 8 bring everyone back together for another couple months of unforgettable fun.

[evilmortimerirl]

You could've been something more, Morty.

[sadiewritingco]

Rick and Morty fanfiction - Synaptic Dampeners

Relationship - evil Morty/ Morty smith, Rick Sanchez & Morty smith, evil Morty & Rick Sanchez

Characters - evil morty, morty smith, rick Sanchez

Tags & warnings - no warnings apply, fluff, light angst, whump, pov Morty smith, Rick Sanchez being Rick Sanchez, slice of life, sort of, soft evil Morty, Whirley dirley conspiracy, established relationship, no incest, tags are hard

Summary - With both portal guns broken, and Rick refusing to use public transport, Morty and Evan have to use an intergalactic airline by themselves. However they start to understand Rick's opinion on the airline as Evan is forced to use the synaptic dampeners due to having too many implants. Now Morty must take care of a child like Evil Morty.

Chapters - 1/1

Word count - 5,464

Link -

[smartestmammalintheuniverse]

Rick and Morty

(very short fic in third person of Rick’s perspective during/right after Unmortricken)

“I gave my life for this. My whole life for you to just...die. But you didn’t. You came back over and over again. And then... even when I thought that I had finally killed you, you still didn’t die. You didn’t die, because even when I killed you, you were still there. Every time I walked by a reflective sureface, there was your face. Every time, I dared look in the mirror, my worst enemy was staring back at me. Any time, I ever dared to try and do anything at all. I coudln’t help, but think that this is what you would do. Because this is what I would do and you are me.... were me... and I am you or I was...

Rick stared down at the corpse in the chair. Prime was dead. He was finally dead and it was over. He had gotten justice for Beth and for Diane. He had gotten revenge for Beth and Diane. He had gotten revenge for every Rick who had them taken away. It should feel triumphant. It should feel like divinity. But it just hurt. 

Now, as he walks out of the room, all he can think is that that can’t be it. It can’t hurt to kill him. It can’t, because that is a betrayal. He has betrayed his wife and child all over again so now he’s gone. Gone. Just a shell of a being, because hurting is so much worse than nothing. Because nothing is less of a betrayal. So the shell of a being walks away with tear tracks down his face. He refuses to be called a man or a god. He’s just nothing.

He stops when he sees Morty. Morty, his grandson, who he loves more than anything. The only person he couldn’t trick himself into hating. Morty hugs him. Rick’s heart thaws just a little. He knows that Morty doesn’t care that he doesn’t hug him back. That he can’t. He knows that when they get back home that Morty won’t mention any of this to anyone. That he wouldn’t dare, because that is what Rick has taught him to do. And if anything, Morty learns.

So, they fly home. He cleans off. He watches it all in a dream. He makes jokes at the dinner table. This is the first time that he can have dinner with his family and not think about how if his Beth saw this she would cry. How if his Diane saw this, she would ask why? How stubborn she was. How strong she was. How her spaghetti will always beat anyone else’s. But now, all he can think about is the robots who had stolen her face and her voice. How even he had done the same thing. How sick was he that he had gave his AI her voice? He couldn’t live without her so he wrote her into everything he did.

After the dust settles, he’ll sit and think and wait. Wait, for everything to fall apart. Wait for Prime to come crawling up out of the dust. But after that doesn’t happen, he’ll sit with himself and admit that finally it’s over. Finally, every version of Diane can rest in peace and maybe if they’re lucky enough their Rick’s will rest with them. He can only hope that one day, he will have the privilege.

[sadiecoocoo]

Rick & Morty fanfiction - SEAL Shenanigans

Relationships - Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Morty Smith/Evil Morty, Morty Smith & Summer Smith

Characters - Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez, Evil Morty, Other Ricks, Other Mortys, SEAL team Ricks, (mentioned) Summer Smith, (mentioned) Beth Smith, (mentioned) Jerry Smith

Warnings & tags - graphic depictions of violence, depressed morty smith, morty smith needs a hug, hurt morty smith, grandpa Rick Sanchez, Episode: s05e10 Rickmurai Jack, sort of, protective Rick Sanchez, jealous Rick Sanchez, no incest, platonic relationships, whump, no beta we die like Prime, out of character, but not horribly so, tags are hard, tags may change, suicide attempt

Summary - Rick abandoned Morty for two pea-brained birds. How is the 14-year-old supposed to cope? He chooses to go to the citadel and join the SEAL team to get his anger out on monsters and gromflomites. He's learned the lay of the land fairly well, but things get confusing when a mysterious, yet somehow familiar, Rick shows up and starts being nice to him.

He's seen countless Ricks not give a shit about whatever Morty they happen to use as a human shield for bullets and blades, so why is this Rick different?

(inspired by RustyChainSnorter's fic, Weird Rick. I highly suggest you go check it out!)

Chapters - 12/?

Current word count - 48,981

Link -

[gastlygallows]

Every Mort Has Her Day

Chapter 1 (AO3)

Pairing: Evil Morty/Morticia

Rating: 🔞

Words: 2,177

Warnings: Kidnapping (kinda?), making out, emotional manipulation, selfcest (duh)

Notes: Morticia is intended as a reader insert but this is 3rd person POV. Smut will be in chapter 2.

“DARKEST ABYSS OTOME TWIN RAPE SCENE”

Morticia typed into hentaihaven’s mobile website’s searchbar, curled up atop her bed. The best solution to insomnia on a school night was masturbating until she passed out.

As the search results loaded onto her phone, she scrolled them with one hand and reached her other underneath the pillow for her vibrator. She’d forgotten to wash it last time, so she’d need to pick off the cum crust. She could hear her mom rummaging in the kitchen downstairs and didn’t want to risk leaving her room to clean it in the bathroom, considering how embarrassing it was last time to get caught with an eight inch chunk of silicone in her hand.

It was a particular scene from a hentai OVA she was craving, in which the main character got double penetrated by a pair of twins that had captured her as their pet.

She specifically wanted the scene with the twins, not their pet lion and snake who also got a turn.

The electric hum of a portal opening in her room snapped her out of her lewd mission and had her shoving the pink vibrator back under the pillow. She jolted up out of bed wearing lacy blue underwear and a yellow tanktop.

“Grandpa, hold on!” She cried out, pulling the sheets and comforter from her bed to look for her pajama shorts. “I-I have to find my shorts!!”

But her pleas were ignored and it was not her grandpa emerging from the portal.

Two Morties wearing Citadel uniforms stepped out, one of them rubbing his gloved hands together at seeing her ass. 

The other elbowed him. “Aw geez, we’re supposed to act professional!”

He shrugged, trying to act coy. “C-C’mon, can’t we at least--at least admire the merchandise?”

Morticia growled and chucked her pillow at them, missing and sending it flying through the portal instead. “Get out of my room, Morty!”

The Morties pointed towards her unhidden vibrator and snickered. 

“Th-that thing is huge!”

“This one must be a size queen, huh?”

Morticia, face red, picked up her vibrator, jumped on her bed, then lunged at them, landing on one and hitting him across the face with her dried cum. “Sh-shut the fuck up!”

“Ow!!”

The other Morty behind her clamped his hand over her mouth, giving his partner the opportunity to smack the dildo from her hand and cuff her. 

She tried to bite into his knuckles, but the gloves were bite-proof. 

A drunk Beth knocked at the door. “Morti?? Are you--did you hurt yourself with that vibrator again?”

Morticia tried to scream.

One of the Morties cleared his throat and attempted to sound like a girl. 

“N-No, Mom!” He said in an unnaturally high voice. “I was just screaming because it felt so good pounding my own pussy!” 

“Well…” There was an awkward, disoriented silence behind the door. “Okay, then… Try to keep it down.”

Morticia banged her cuffed fists at the boy below her as they took delight in her frustration. 

“Oh, please,” the Morty behind her said, pulling her up to stand on her feet. “N-Not like we meant to walk in on you being horny.”

“Whoa,” the other said, reaching up to cup her breasts beneath her top. “Bro these are huge for a Morticia!”

She squirmed and attempted to elbow the Morty behind her, but he kneed her in the back first. 

“You’re just now noticing?”

“Hard to notice when I’m being beat with a plastic dick, dick!” He picked up the vibrator from the floor and sniffed it. 

“C’mon, let’s fucking go!” The other shoved Morticia through the portal. 

Morty stuffed the vibrator in his pants pocket, where it noticeably protruded. 

As they entered the enclave of green, Morticia could feel her eyes tearing up at sheer fear of the unknown awaiting her.

She'd only visited the Citadel a few times, which was enough to know that Morticias were a hot commodity. She didn't want to go there again, especially without Rick and without a portal gun. 

The Morty removed his hand from her mouth when they arrived in a spacious bedroom.

The canopy bed was made neatly with plain black sheets and a large set of windows circled around the perimeters of the walls, granting a birds eye view to the city below.

"Wh-where are we?" She asked. "Oh god, am I being sex trafficked?! This has to be on the level of a war crime or something, r-right?"

Standing in the corner in front of a mirror was another Morty dressed in black, adjusting his collar with an uncharacteristic confident smile.

“Hello, Morticia,” he said smoothly, looking at her reflection. “I’m sorry to pull you out of your room so late at night.”

“W-Well, uh.” She straightened her back and cleared her throat, inwardly grimacing at the sound of the portal closing behind them. “I wasn’t doing anything important. Just trying to masturbate and get to bed! I have a science test tomorrow.”

She narrowed her eyes as the cuffs vanished from her wrists. “That’s all.”

The Morty in black reached for a red tie on his dresser and, impressively, looped it under his collar and began tying it all by himself.

Morticia wrung her hands together now that he wasn’t looking at her and cleared her throat. “So, uh, is this like a prostitution call or?”

The guard next to her rolled his eyes and swung an arm towards the Morty in black. “Do you see him putting on more clothes?!”

“You abducted me in my underwear!”

The Morty in black waved a hand at them. “Leave us. Thank you.”

Without another word, the two Morties that had snatched Morticia away out of her room in the dead of night left into a portal, one of them still carrying her vibrator in his pocket. Thief.

“I apologize for my guards’ rambunctious behavior,” Morty continued, pointing over to the sliding closet door behind Morticia. “There’s a dress and a bra in there for you. Don’t worry. I won’t look.”

He walked over to the other corner, free of mirrors, and with both hands behind his back he patiently waited.

Morticia looked up to the ceiling.

“There are no cameras in here,” he assured her without so much as turning his head.

“O-Okay.” 

Inside of the closet was indeed a plain but frilly black dress with short sleeves and a matching bra that was a cup size too small. 

She squeezed the fabric to the undergarment and then her own boob, taking some amount of pride in knowing that this could only mean she was bigger than he’d expected.

* * * * *

Morticia sat directly across from Morty at a rectangular table, shyly glancing between him and the floor as a uniformed Rick served them dinner–steak and potatoes and, at her request, chicken tenders with fries. 

There was also a bottle of wine and some empty glasses between them, which led her to think that a Rick would be joining them but to her surprise Morty nodded at the servant and a glass was poured for each of them.

There were too many seats at this table for it to be intended for only two people, adding to a sense of growing unease as she felt his unwavering gaze.

Since when does a Morty keep eye contact this long?

She’d been oggled at plenty of times before by her male counterparts, but there was always a juvenile nature to it and an immaturity that this Morty was totally lacking.

This was the most confident Morty she’d ever seen. Not a single stutter. 

“S-So, uh,” she finally said when the server Rick left the room, picking up a fry and biting into half of it. “The Citadel.”

Morty watched her with half lidded eyes, his cheek resting against his palm. “Yeah. The Citadel.”

“You must be one important Morty. To have a Rick serving you.”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.” He sat upright and took his glass of wine between his fingers, taking a sip. “I’m the democratically elected president.”

Morticia nearly choked on her fry. “President?! Democracy?!”

“I imagine you must be quite out of the loop?”

“I’ve never exactly been in the loop when it comes to the Citadel, if I’m being honest.”

“Given your origins, that isn’t surprising, so I’ll just tell you: C-137, the Rick who founded the Citadel in the first place, killed the council and for a while this place was left without any leadership. An election was decided, I ran my campaign, and I won.”

He shrugged, as if he were explaining something as simple as tying his shoes. “In part, I won because no one expected me to. When your opponents underestimate you, it gives you a significant edge.”

She looked at her wine, then decided to take a drink of water, instead. “And the other part?”

Morty furrowed his brows and looked away from her for the first time since they’d sat down. “The other part was knowing Ricks and how they think.”

“You must be like the smartest Morty ever.” Morticia scratched the side of her head and laughed awkwardly. “I'm sorry to say, but I'm pretty dumb. Estrogen and stuff makes it impossible for me to do math right, so…I dunno what you want with me? You said you know my origins, though, so you must already know that? K-Kinda goes without saying…”

“I can only know what's on paper.” Morty halfheartedly shrugged. “That you’re one of the few surviving Morticias out of a batch cloned in the lab formerly known as Labius57. Graduated with your sisters and eventually assigned to three different Ricks and two separate families but they keep dying on you and then it’s back to the auction house.”

She sighed, placing her head in both of her hands and numbly staring down at the table, any semblance of appetite lost. “That pretty much sums it up. My life isn’t exactly great. Last week my Rick had me shove a bag of alien drugs up my pussy to smuggle through customs. I’m not a pocket, damn it!

“That’s why I brought you here.” Morty spoke candidly, slowly moving a hand to his heart. “If you want to leave behind Ricks and fake families that don’t love you, I’ll be more than happy to have you by my side. But not as a sidekick.”

Morticia perked up and tilted her head. “That sounds great, but what’s the catch?”

Morty laughed for a moment, standing up out of his seat and walking over to her.

He pet her dark curls through his fingers. “The only catch is that you keep my secrets, do what I ask, and never betray me. Now, I know what you’re thinking: how many Morticias has he been through already? I have one ex, but that’s it. I recalibrated what I was looking for after that, which led me to your file.”

“W-Wow, really? You never pursued a Jessica?”

He shrugged. “No. Was never an option for me, anyway.”

“I’ve never dated a Morty before, but...” She shyly smiled up at him and placed her hand over his, relishing in the warmth of his skin and squeezing his palm. “But can I be honest? I’ve always had a selfcest fetish and when I first learned there were a bunch of boy versions of me I was both turned on and scared c-cause, y’know, I don’t wanna be like a slut or anything so I’ve been too nervous to hit on myself–”

Morty gripped her hair and pulled her head up ever so slightly, leaning over to push his lips against hers and pull her into a kiss.

She kissed him back with an open mouth, relishing in the taste of his tongue that was still wet with blood from his steak.

They made out with raspy breaths, Morticia moaning into him pathetically, closing her eyes and wishing that she could just melt into him–this Morty was everything that she could ever aspire to be, everything that every Morty should aspire to be: independent, confident, free of the cosmic grip of their infinite grandpas…

It really must be my lucky day, she thought, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him closer to her, deliberately pushing her breasts against his chest. 

Morty’s mouth parted from her and he pulled away before she could go in for another kiss, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

He was panting. “Well, Morticia? Do you accept?”

“I–”

He pinched her cheek. “I’ll teach you to be my equal and we’ll go on adventures, just you and me.”

“Adventures?” She echoed, stars in her eyes. “I-I haven’t been on a real adventure in forever.”

“Then let’s go on one! Right fucking now.” He pulled her up to her feet and fetched his portal gun from his back pocket, blasting open a green rift just feet away from them.

A breeze sifted through their hair as the unknown awaited. 

They nodded at each other and jumped in, hand in hand.

[morty-prime]

[Part 2]

[d-x-z]

So. Like.

I have, a evil morty x male fanfiction I've written it has like 8-9 chapters and around 20k words, 2k or 3k each chapter for my own personal enjoyment and idk if I should upload it😀 so technically...if someone sees should I? IM CONTEMPLATING ON IF I SJOULD.

[elizaviento]

Fic Masterpost

Below are links to all the fics I have posted on this blog (with the exception of Stardew Valley, which has its own Masterpost HERE). *****

Gravity Falls A Promise of Things to Come — SFW (Stan Pines x Reader)

Detroit: Become Human Petty Moralities — NSFW (Elijah Kamski x Chloe RT600)

Rick & Morty Rick Sanchez Fic Masterpost (all 32 fics are found in that Masterpost)

Resident Evil Help Me, Leon — NSFL (Leon S. Kennedy/Ashley Graham)

[bouncybongfairy]

was wondering if you could write a morty smith x reader where you both get high after studying together?

Study Date

Morty Smith x Fem Reader

Summary: Morty musters up the courage and asks you over for a study date. Who knew studying human biology could have such interactive hands on lessons.

Word Count: 1.5k

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Smut, Fingering, Squirting, Nipple Play.

(Aged up)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was lunch and you were sitting at one of the tables in the quad. Your friends were fixing up their hair and make-up as they picked at their food. Talking shit about girls they either didn’t know and/or don’t like. The conversation was starting to shift, them talking about how Morty came up to you before class. He’d invited you to come over after school and study. A lot of your friends think he’s weird or odd. That was one of the things you liked most about him. Most guys tried acting all big and confident when trying to pursue you. Puffing their shoulders out and bragging about all the illegal activities they partake in. Morty was quite nervous when he spoke with you, like he was savoring every second he could be near you. Him being so flustered and shy made you feel flattered. 

“Are you really going to his house after school?” Trisha asked. 

“Yeah, why not?” you asked, stabbing at your salad. 

“I don’t know he’s just kinda… like strange?” she asked, which made the entire table laugh. 

“Not as strange as Brad going back and forth between you and Jessica like he’s test driving a car he might wanna buy. Even once he picks the one he wants, we all know he’ll run it into the ground,” you said, packing your lunch and bag. 

They were idiots and you didn’t appreciate the little jab towards Morty. You could tell that it took a lot of him to muster up the courage to talk to you. As someone who also struggled with shyness and social anxiety, it hurt you to see people poke fun at that. You ended up going home early, too worked up to go back to class. Even though you had nerves, that didn’t take away from how excited you were. There were two classes where you sat behind him, at times you wouldn’t pay attention to what was going on. Watching all his nervous little mannerisms, the way he picked at his nails. Or scratched the back of his neck when we were given an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Sometimes he’d come to school with a gash above his eyebrow, or a purple tinted bruise under his eye. You liked how he kinda looked sad and tired all the time. It was weird, you weren’t really sure why. It didn’t take long for you to get home. Letting yourself in because your mom and dad were both at work. This worked out great for you, it meant you could take hits of your pen out in the open. Also allowing you to use all the makeup on your moms vanity without her fussing. Time was flying by a lot faster now that you weren’t on campus. This may sound vain but you really want to impress him with your physical beauty.

Ensuring to pay attention to the smallest details, making sure your eyelash glue wasn’t visible. That your concealer wasn’t caking under your eyes. After staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, you drove over. His house was really nice, furnished like a 90’s family movie. Pictures of family and inspirational quotes, very cozy. Morty’s room was nice. He could normally keep it very tidy but, you’d like to think he cleaned it because you were coming over. Different posters scattered about his room, a rug in the middle of the room; made to look like the solar system. 

“Have you always been into science?” you asked. 

“Uh, no my grandpa is the one who made me into it,” he said, pulling out the chair for you to sit at his desk. 

“Oh yeah, Trish was telling me about that. What’s like the craziest thing you guys ever did in space?” you asked, emptying your bag. 

“One time Rick was selling this-” he started but you interrupted. 

“No, no I meant like you. Not Rick, I wanna know what’s the craziest thing you’ve done,” you clarified. 

“I- um well. This one time Rick had to do some business on the citadel, I couldn’t come for w-what ever reason. There’s this, like club/bar thing called the Creepy Morty. It was the first time I snorted kalaxian c-crystals and some crazy shit w-went down,” he said, chuckling a little. 

“Oh my god, that sounds like a lot of fun,” you said, opening up your biology book. Pulling out the notes you’d written during class. 

“Your writing is so nice,” he said, watching you bend down to get your pink pencil box. 

“Thank you, I feel like those were pretty sloppy,” you said, opening the plastic box and revealing a plethora of weed paraphernalia, “Will we get in trouble for smoking here?” you asked, licking the grape flavored wrap. 

“B-be my guest,” he said, laughing nervously, “Can you even r-roll with nails?” he asked. 

Instead of verbally responding, you just finished rolling. He pointed out how you made the mouthpiece slightly tighter than the rest of it. The fact that he noticed this small detail made you blush. Putting the blunt between your lips, gesturing from him to light it. His hand shook a little as he brought the flame to you. It was surprising to you, watching him take ghost inhales without coughing. The two of you began talking back and forth, just about life and whatever came to mind. Eventually the conversation began to shift, you asking if he had a girlfriend. 

“No, w-why would I invite you over if I did,” he laughed. 

“Oh so you invited me over for romantic reasons?” you asked, tilting your head up and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. 

“What? No Absolutely- I just…” he began slightly panicking. 

“No? Aww that’s too bad,” you said. 

“Really?” he asked. 

“I mean yeah, I think you’re really cool. I like you alot, I can’t deny that when you asked me to come over I was really excited,” you said, handing him the blunt. 

“Holy shit, honestly you don’t understand how good that is to hear,” he said. 

“Well now that we both can admit we never really intended on studying, maybe we can watch a movie on my laptop?” you asked.

He of course agreed, now laying on your stomachs. His twin size bed only made for your bodies to be pressed against each other. Watching a horror movie that he suggested. Already 15 minutes in, you were waiting for him to make a move. He was laying on his side, back facing the wall and his elbow was supporting his head . Rubbing your back but keeping a respectful distance from your ass. Eventually he started to wander down, making your back arch involuntarily. You could have sworn he chuckled, to be fair most of your focus was trying to act like it isn't affecting you. Going down past your skirt, his fingertips now against your skin. At first he was just feeling you up, squeezing and groping after a while. 

You were happy to be wearing makeup because your face was getting hot. He started to make things more intense, now rubbing the fabric of your panties. You had to bite back a gasp as he traced your slit with his fingers. He curls his leg around yours, spreading your thighs apart. Pulling your panties down and slightly, giving his hand room to spread your wetness around. Pushing his middle and ring finger into you. At first he maintained a slow place, giving you time to stretch around him. Starting to get more desperate, you arch and push yourself down onto his fingers. You were no longer regulating how loud you were being, letting pants and moans out without any shame. Morty noticed this and changed his position. Flipping you from your stomach to your back, pulling your shirt above your chest. He became animalistic once he saw your chest. 

Taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Sucking and flicking his tongue as he fucked his finger back into you. Becoming rougher, biting and nipping at your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, not pulling through. Just caressing him, your mind becoming more and more foggy with pleasure. Your legs were trembling and you could feel your orgasm approaching. So could he, prompting him to pull his fingers out and play with your clit. It wasn’t long until you were coming, squirting on his hand. This took him off guard but made him cum in his boxers. Spreading your juices to your chest and slapping your breasts. Splashing the liquid around until you were squirming and reddened. The two of you laid there for a while until you broke the silence. 

“Can I do you back?” you asked and he shook his head. 

“No I came in my pants,” he said so casually that you couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, started mimicking the way you were moaning. Making both of you giggle yourselves to sleep.

[thoughts-and-gayers]

heya! i wrote a sort-of sequel to "sculptor of the clay self"! im not super happy with it, but i think its still pretty good!

evil morty x morty is only really implied in this one, as its more of a filler than anything.

future fics in "of wildflowers and weeds" will probably have more actual ship content.

[galactictheorist]

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰! 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 1 𝐚𝐧𝐝 2 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐂137𝐂𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭,𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠!

Book 1: Just Pretend| Rickorty / C137Cest (Mpreg)

Book 2: Pain Remains| Rickorty /C137Cest (Mpreg)

Book 3: Dark on me| Rick and Morty/ No C137Cest

It's a trilogy, and if you're interested in reading them, I hope that you enjoy it!

Once again, if you aren't into C137Cest, DO NOT READ! ✨

And yes, I totally emasculated Rick, cause why should Morty always have to go through some serious stuff? *Evilly laughs*

[glitteringcrab]

Mental restraints of the puppeteered

[or: Frying his backups (part 2)]

Okay so this theory has been sitting in my head for a long while and I had the feeling it might be accurate but I could not find a way to tie it up with the rest of the plot my headcanons...

Until now, when something changed (namely, the possibility that Rick Prime has been puppeteering other Ricks).

So.

1. Let's observe this scene:

I think we can all agree that Evil Rick was having lunch alone (there are a lot of bittersweet fanarts where Eyepatch Morty seeks comfort from post-surgery Evil Rick in some way or another, but if this one scene is typical of their post-surgery interactions, it appears this hypothetical comfort-seeking was not a thing. They did not even eat together). He broke the plate, either accidentally or on purpose. He picked one of the shards up. The rest is history.

So what I'm seeing is that he was not puppeteered 24/24.

In the incredible, gut-wrenching fanfiction "Ghost in the machine" which you should all totally read (in fact, drop this rambling post and go read it now!! Go go go go!!!!! Like, shooo!!! Come back after you've read it, if you still feel like it. Because there will be SPOILERS in the following 2 paragraphs!!!!) Evil Rick was constantly following orders, 24/24. Even when Eyepatch Morty did not puppeteer him directly, he still had orders to follow, like "bring me this object" or "stand there and wait", and the wiggle room for Evil Rick to resist was minimal. Said resisting mostly took the form of twitching (ergo momentarily disrupting whatever he was ordered to do) at crucial moments, maybe kinda like a computer lagging at the worst possible time. Like I said, absolutely incredible fic, go read iiiiiiiiiiit!!!

But now that Unmorticken has aired and we saw more of their interactions, if we think about the above scene, I think we can reach the conclusion that that's not how it worked. Evil Rick may have received an order to eat, as well as orders to keep the place neat and tidy (and therefore he began picking up the shards) but actually jamming the shard at his eye is not a matter of twitching nor just barely managing to change the trajectory of a movement at the last possible second. It's a fully deliberate action, from start to finish. He had the agency to do it.

So I think we can reach the conclusion that Evil Rick was technically free to... be himself when not puppeteered.

With some restrictions in place, of course:

I am just spitballing here, but I'm thinking of what kind of other actions Eyepatch Morty may have forbidden Evil Rick to do, such as:

Cannot damage any equipment (duh, otherwise he'd be throwing a massive tantrum, destroying everything Evil Morty is working on)

Cannot attack Eyepatch Morty (duh, otherwise the kid would never get a moment's rest lol)

Cannot escape

Cannot call for help

...and probably a bunch more, such as "cannot speak" because of Evil Rick's lack of words when Evil Morty came to him during his failed suicide attempt... Plus the fact that he has a scar on his mouth, which a couple of amazing fanart and fanfiction made me wonder if Evil Rick said something during his surgery that Evil Morty very much could not stand hearing so he shut him up with a scalpel or whatever he was holding... before shutting him up for good.

What a nightmare, huh?

And that's when he was allowed to be himself. The rest of the time he'd be forced to watch himself kill Ricks, and kidnap and torture a thousand versions of his grandson.

2. Now, if the theory that Evil Morty was once himself puppetered it true...

...wouldn't he also have a similar list of prohibitions restraining his actions? Such as:

Cannot harm Puppetmaster Rick

Cannot escape

Cannot operate a portal gun (we've never seen Evil Morty operate a portal gun made by a Rick, he made his own. Is that a coincidence? Of course, both are "portal guns" so maybe that's a stretch, unless he calls his own portal weapon something else, like the dinosaurs called their own "portal pistol" lol. Or maybe using a portal gun to escape counts as "escaping" and therefore a separate order is not needed)

Cannot reveal to anyone what Puppetmaster Rick has been doing to him (maybe. Is that one even necessary? Would anyone even help him if he did reveal it?)

3. Like I said, I'm just spitballing here, but I think the above stand to reason. I mean they just seem like reasonable precautions. If this assessment is accurate, we can reach the following conclusions:

a) If Evil Rick's puppeteering experience was a nightmare, Evil Morty's was a living hell considering what Puppetmaster Rick was doing to him, especially if he was not allowed to leave the house and ask for help.

b) The fact that Evil Morty managed to free himself while operating under such massive handicups is another testament to his incredible intelligence and resilience.

c) It may be another reason he showed no empathy to other Mortys in his attempt to escape. They've had it easy, they had their chances to leave the Citadel or kill their Ricks, they had a million other ways and opportunities to escape and either never bothered or blew them. Now it's his turn.

4. Okay, now... what do you think happens to all these mental restraints once Evil Morty severed his connection to Puppetmaster Rick by tearing his receiver off???

One scenario is that they all became void. They were cancelled. Evil Morty was free to be himself, however he wanted. This could very much be true, and in that case my rambling ends here, I have nothing more to say.

Another scenario is all the old restrictions were still in place and effective, and he would just receive no new orders nor be directly puppeteered anymore. (I suppose this would make it into a good metaphor about abused people being conditioned to act in certain ways and it being very hard to rebel against them. E.g. imagine Evil Morty being unable to confess to other people about what happened to him because he'd expect pain and failure and no support, similar to actual abuse victims learning to expect accusations and failure and no support) Assuming the second scenario is true, then let's head off to the next points:

5. Depending on the exact extent of Evil Morty's mental restraints, it may be that using Evil Rick as a puppet was not only a clever way to get the upper hand, but that he had literally no other choice. E.g. imagine if he actually was physically incapable of operating a portal gun. He would literally need to hold it via Evil Rick's puppeteered hand. The whole thing would be Eyepatch Morty taking all his mental restraints and turning each and every one of them to his advantage in a convoluted, ingenious way.

6. Judging by Evil Rick's halted suicide attempt, it seems that while he knew that removing the receiver would kill him (I mean... you don't normally die by poking your eye out, so it has to be tearing your receiver off that will kill you, and he knew that) the puppeteered have no knowledge of the restrictions placed on them until they stumble upon them. (That, or Evil Rick knew he was not allowed to commit suicide but was desperate enough to try nonetheless.)

Therefore it's theoretically possible there are still some restrictions employed that Evil Morty is unaware of, which are waiting to spring up on him if the right (wrong) conditions are met.

Personally I think that's unlikely because I'm sure he has studied his own implant extensively since he became president and had access to adequate equipment, but:

7. Even if he studied it, this doesn't mean he was able to alter it nor undo it. From what we've seen it appears that unauthorized removal of part of the puppeteering implant equates with a death sentence. And while Puppetmaster Rick thought it unlikely his scrawny, stupid Morty would ever be able to put together a plan to break free or have the guts to mutilate himself, if the puppeteering equipment was originally, I dunno, a prototype designed by Rick Prime and was intended to be used against Ricks, then it's entirely possible that it is designed to kill the victim both for trying to remove the implant itself and for altering the accompanying code. It's the absolute prison, and despite whatever fast-acting healing equipment Evil Morty successfully used to remove his receiver in the past, it might be that it barely worked and he might not be too keen on trying his luck again.

8. So let's continue this thought experiment and assume that, if not all, at least the core mental restraints of the mind control implant are still very much effective inside Evil Morty's brain.

...Including the "cannot harm Puppetmaster Rick" one.

Now, I don't want to reduce the very important plot point of Evil Morty's mental restraints into semantics of "attack vs hurt vs harm vs kill", but... I'm going to go ahead and assume there are limits, definitions, to these mental restraints, otherwise Evil Morty would never been able to even look at Puppetmaster Rick wrong if there was the tiniest chance of it eventually leading to Puppetmaster Rick getting harmed. So I'm going to assume that the restraint is about something blatant.

Like... shooting Puppetmaster Rick, running him over with a car, poisoning his food, strangling him are all no-go, but aggressively poking him with your finger or not warning him about his impending doom might be okay.

My guess is that restraining Puppetmaster Rick is also okay, because as long as that the "no harm" order is still in action, Puppetmaster Rick would just immediately puppeteer Evil Morty into stopping or freeing him. The puppeteered cannot really get very far with this, especially when they're a child with no equipment of their own... Or that is what Puppetmaster Rick would think.

9. Anyway, before season 7 we don't see Evil Morty directly kill (or try to kill) another Rick. (It's not his fault the Ricks walked into various deathtraps, occasionally when he even specifically told them not to lol) This observation tipped me off to the possibility that some restrictions might still be in place... Of course, I cannot think on why there'd be a restriction against Evil Morty killing random Ricks, so it might simply be that in his attempts to bypass the restrictions against Puppetmaster Rick Evil Morty has learnt to think outside the box and later fully employed this skill to minimize the risk to himself.

And in season 7, he has no difficulty in killing Nice Rick, nor to shoot and attack Rick Prime during the Prime Fight.

10. BUT THEN WHAT'S THIS ABOUT:

I couldn't stop thinking about this phrase!!! It just doesn't make any sense!! WHY DID RICK PRIME ACT LIKE EYEPATCH MORTY WAS INCAPABLE OF KILLING HIM?!

So I kept thinking on what sort of mental restraints might still be active inside Evil Morty's brain.

Like, what? Is it something like him "not being allowed to kill a Rick who isn't currently posing a threat", so he could shoot Rick Prime in the beginning but not now that he's restrained? (But he shot Nice Rick again with no problem inside the box, when he was down and weaponless and dying...) This didn't really make any sense, like... why??? So I dropped this theory and forgot about it...

... until the theory that Rick Prime has been mind controlling other Ricks came up. By more than one fan!!!! (and we followed different lines of thought to reach it!!!)

SO LET'S PUT EVERYTHING TOGETHER:

(1) Evil Morty absolutely does still have some mental restraints in his brain and has been carefully operating around them this whole time, trying not to trigger them.

(2) One of those mental restraints effectively prevents him from killing Puppetmaster Rick. This would provide an additional explanation about why Eyepatch Morty didn't kill Puppetmaster Rick the moment he realized said Rick was freed by Rick C-137 resetting all portal travelers. Like, I can think of other explanations:

Puppetmaster Rick being terrified of the Citadel and having no idea that it no longer exists and worrying that they'll come get him to throw him in the Machine of Unspeakable Doom again, therefore laying as low as possible, either hiding himself so effectively that even Evil Morty can't find him, or protecting his home base to withstand an attack from the Citadel itself, making it extremely difficult for Evil Morty to defeat him.

Evil Morty being either extremely scared or extremely repulsed by him, simply never wanting to deal with him ever again, and thinking it highly unlikely Puppetmaster Rick would ever be able to successfully track him down as long as Morty took certain precautions...

...But it's also very likely that Evil Morty is physically unable to do it. Like, I doubt Evil Morty is morally above neutrino-bombing an entire planet just to get this one Rick, but maybe he can't do it. Maybe he is not allowed to fire such a weapon.

(3) In fact, the only things Evil Morty can do is hide himself in the fringe between worlds, employ a number of sophisticated shields, and surgically add the mind-cotrol-implant-overriding fingerguns on himself. An attack with these might at worst cause pain for Puppetmaster Rick, but as we've seen the fingerguns don't actually physically harm nor kill their target, they just... override the target's nervous system. So he can use those against Puppetmaster Rick.

(4) Fast forward to the Prime Fight, where Evil Morty uses a gun to try to kill Rick Prime--and why not? Of course he can do it. He also attacks Rick Prime with his bare hands and hijacks one of Prime's Dianebots to pummel him into a pancake. All good.

(5) Eventually, Eyepatch Morty's temporary allies go down, all the weapons and physical attacks he has tried got him no results, there are no more Dianebots for him to hijack and he's about to get shot:

Desperate, he tries one last thing: the finger-gun, which would only work if Rick Prime also has a mind-control-implant in his forehead.

(6) Bingo!!! It works.

(7) ...But this means that Rick Prime is also defined by a "Puppetmaster Rick status". Whatever mental restraint Evil Morty struggled to operate around is updated to extend to Rick Prime.

While the remains of the mind-control implant inside Evil Morty's head did not receive any new orders (as he no longer has a receiver), the old orders are still in place, and the updated knowledge concerning Rick Prime's status as a "Rick who puppeteers others" (or "admin" if you like) firmly slots him inside the "cannot harm" box.

(8) Whatever. Evil Morty is annoyed, but he knows how to work around this. He's unconcerned.

We have no confirmation of this, but it's likely Puppetmaster Rick had a special room and special equipment and used it update or oversee Evil Morty's implant (I mean... we've come up with similar imagery for Evil Morty and Evil Rick). Evil Morty therefore knows Rick Prime should also have something similar, and knows just what to do. He immediately drags him to the control room, where indeed the relevant equipment is waiting for him.

What I find funny is that Evil Morty probably didn't stick himself inside the wall panels to get all those cables out, but puppeteered Rick Prime to do it in his stead.

And this explains why part of the room was wrecked: Evil Morty was unfamiliar with Prime's strength and implants, and as we've seen, when controlling an unfamiliar body with implants, accidents might happen:

Evil Morty then puppeteered Rick Prime into sitting on his chair (aaaaand I assume deactivated his time-healing ability) before holding him still.

(9) Rick Prime woke up, saw/felt the fingergun and cables on his forehead, noticed he was unable to move, saw Evil Morty, remembered Evil Morty shooting him with something... and probably also immediately began employing his own implants and defense systems to get feedback on Evil Morty's fingergun and on how it could be overridden.

Doesn't this line make a lot more sense now???

He really is getting the picture. And in fact he may be getting a much bigger picture than Evil Morty might like; he may be stealthily scanning Evil Morty's brain through some other implant of his; see it full of cables, recognize the similarities to his own handiwork. He might understand that Evil Morty has puppeteered others, might understand that Evil Morty was once puppeteered himself. He might get a feedback on Evil Morty's list of mental restraints.

And he immediately begins stealthily mounting attacks against the fingerguns, which retaliate each and every time, turning red and hurting him. He keeps trying nonetheless, while simultaneously trying to distract Evil Morty by sweet talking to him (which is nothing but a testament about how clever he is and his ability to multitask) but his fate is sealed; maybe he'd be able to override the fingerguns given enough time... But he doesn't have enough time, and Evil Morty has prepared himself for this exact moment moment. His fingerguns are not easy to be overridden.

(10) So Evil Morty successfully fries each and every one of Prime's puppeteered victims (which do not have "Puppetmaster Rick status") and Prime says this:

DOESN'T THIS LINE MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE NOW?

He got feedback on Evil Morty's brain control implant. He knows that from the moment the fingerguns worked Eyepatch Morty could literally not harm him anymore.

(11) Not that this matters, because Eyepatch Morty knows just what to do...

...bring someone who can finish the job:

DOESN'T THE ABOVE LINE ALSO MAKE SENSE NOW?

Evil Morty is not the one harming him!!! I mean if you wanna look at semantics he didn't even tell Rick C-137 to kill him, he said a joke, a pun.

And he has the added bonus of coming out of this looking like a team player (I mean... as much as he ever could) and gaining an enslaved, morally obligated Rick to himself lol (turning his mental restraints to his advantage)

(12) AND TALK ABOUT POETIC JUSTICE. RICK PRIME IS BEING PUPPETEERED TO SIT STILL IN HIS OWN CHAIR AND GET PUMMELED TO DEATH when he's the one who had been tricking and enslaving countless Ricks to be puppeteered by him forever.

He's literally forced to sit still there and live through it, unable to even lift a finger to protect himself. Poetic. Justice.

(13) Evil Morty had been very careful up to now to hide the fact that he has puppeteered others, but there is no way Rick C-137 didn't understand that Evil Morty is familiar with the puppeteering technology after this encounter (I mean... Rick C-137 knew not to remove the fingerguns, he knew to remove the cables, he knew what this whole thing was).

Which on one hand, doesn't mean he gets to reach any plot-relevant conclusions (at least, not yet) because he knows Evil Morty scans Ricks' brains and steals their technology. On the other hand... we don't know how much more he needs to put 2 and 2 together and reach the same conclusions that Rick Prime did.

(14) And now for my last point.

If all the above is true...

...and depending on the semantics of the mental restraints...

...I would not be surprised if it turns out that Evil Morty using the Omega Device against Ricks is nothing but a GIGANTIC BLUFF.

Like this is literally the worst he can do: improve its design, build it, threaten to use it. (Depending on whether he intends to do a demonstration on e.g. Churry he may not even ever bother to build it.)

Because he literally cannot fire such a weapon against Ricks as long as Puppetmaster Rick is alive. (edit: I'm gonna correct myself and change this to: he cannot use such a weapon against Ricks directly but he still can trick or force someone else to fire it in his stead)

Of course, he would still be able to fire it against Ricks' family, which is probably more effective as a deterrent considering Ricks' suicidal tendencies, but you get the idea.

(...On a different matter, Rick Prime wins plenty of extra cruelty points for vengefully trying to turn Rick C-137 against Evil Morty by warning him about a weapon he knows the kid literally cannot use (edit: cannot use in a moment's notice, in case a furious Rick C-137 pops up in his doorstep))

Again, this may not be true. We don't know if firing such a weapon by throwing another Rick in the Omega Device (and therefore killing eeeevery Rick) counts as Eyepatch Morty directly killing Puppetmaster Rick or not, but I fail to see how it's different from dropping a neutrino bomb on Puppetmaster Rick's head.

(15) Or maybe I'm wrong and I'm only trying to connect dots that don't exist. I honestly cannot think of another explanation for Rick Prime's lines to Evil Morty in Unmortiricken but this doesn't mean there isn't one.

And I do think Evil Morty being deathly scared of Puppetmaster Rick is adequate explanation for not wanting to even try to kill him, and plot-wise and character-wise I think it's a lot more interesting than semantics.

But then again, it's possible for both of these things to be true... Because even with Rick C-137 suddenly becoming his slave, Evil Morty very much did not jump at the opportunity to kill Puppetmaster Rick. He chose to remain hidden. He doesn't want to deal with him.

[brainhurtyqueen]

💚👅💘💣💢 (ask game!)

💚: Well, not that it's a secret now, lol, but back in my first years in the fandom, I pretty much shipped Rickorty only... But I gotta admit, I was always kind of intrigued by SumRick. I used to secretly read fanfiction, yet I still claimed I didn't ship much besides Rickorty. lol, I definitely have to say it's thanks to you that I got more interested in SumRick and Summer, whom I am gay for. 😂

👅: Hands down, it's EmSum, lol. 🤣 They are just a sexy couple to me, and every time I write Evil Morty so attached and attracted to Summer. It's just hot. 😩🤣 They are just so sexy and in love, and my OTP. And Prime x Morty has always been a favorite of mine. I've been obsessed with it for a long time, and it's sexy to me, lol.

💣: Okay,... I really, really can't stand the pairing between Jessica and Morty. 😅 I just really don't care for Jessica’s character and have never liked how they handled their relationship in the show. And it's not because I ship Rickorty so hard; lol, I actually ship Morty with many people. 🤣

💢: A ship that is soooo misunderstood... Is Rickorty... Nah, it's actually Tervo, lol. I'm sorry, but nobody knows just how toxic these two fools are (except you and our friends, of course), and even then, they do have a complex relationship that doesn't deserve to be just boiled down to “fluff.” 

(Honestly, I couldn't think of any other pairing besides Tervo that really is a misunderstood pairing with the way antis see it, lol.)

[sadiecoocoo]

R&M Fanfiction - Touch Starved

Tysm to @jaybleeps for giving me this amazing prompt! The first chapter was sm fun to write!

Relationships - Evil Morty/Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez & Morty Smith, Evil Morty & Rick Sanchez

Characters - Evil Morty, Morty Smith, Rick Sanchez

Tags & Warnings - no archive warnings apply, 5+1 things, touch-starved, fluff and angst, no incest, touch-starved evil morty, protective Rick Sanchez, Evil Morty goes by Evan, internal conflict, gay panic, other tags to be added, warnings may change, no smut, heterochromia Morty Smith, Wingman Rick Sanchez, angst and fluff, whump, implied/referenced torture, hurt Morty smith, love confessions, first kiss, mind numbing fluff

Summary - Being outside of the Central Finite Curve is lonely. And Evil Morty was lonely long before he left the Curve. How do you deal with loneliness? You hang out with an alternate version of yourself that you adore and his grandpa that you absolutely despise. Be it on a perilous adventure, or a simple day of playing video games. Along with being lonely, Evil Morty hasn't touched anyone, really touched anyone, since before he became "Evil Morty." And how do you deal with that? You freak the fuck out internally whenever the alternate version of yourself touches you.

five times Evil Morty bottles up his panic in front of Morty, one time Morty understands.

Chapters - 6/6

Current Word count - 26,583

Link -