#rotating Shockwave around in my mind (electrically) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Earth is Space Australia, “Blood of the Gods.”

Humanity humanity is a strange thing,

She plays with the elements

Holds hands with the stars

And is rocked to sleep by the fury of nature

- Preface from the “Human Enigma” By Dr. Krill

Rain thundered down from above.

Rivulets of water as large as small waterfalls cascaded over the side of the room and onto the soft-sandy dirt below. The sky above was a deep cloudy grey shot through with veins of white sunshine managed to peek through the cloud cover. Dr Krill poked his head around the side of the door and out onto the porch.

Adam was sitting there in a T-shirt and shorts just on the front step not a few inches away from the cascading water. Little droplets of water had already beaded on his exposed skin.

“What are you doing out here?” Krill wondered stepping onto the porch and raising his voice just to be heard over the cascading water.

“I like watching the rain.” he motioned krill over with a hand, “Come, sit, watch with me.”

Krill was not so sure about all this. He didn’t see the appeal of water falling, but walked over anyway and floated on the step next to the human. Water still continued to pool in great puddles by the side of the house, and the air around them was unusually humid and hot.

The human tilted his head back and took a long deep breath, “Too bad you don’t have a sense of smell doctor.”

“Why?” He looked around, “Water doesn’t usually have a smell.”

“But RAIN does.” He took another deep breath, “Probably one of the best smells in the world…. It's comforting, refreshing, makes you feel like mother nature singing you to sleep with her most beautiful lullaby.”

“Waxing poetic this morning?’

“Days like this do that to me.”

“I thought you would hate the rain.”

The human turned his head to look at Krill frowning, almost as if he was offended by such a suggestion, “What would make you think that?”

“Can’t fly on a day like this.”

The human shook his head, “I COULD it would just be inadvisable. Besides flying and the rain like this are two different things. One is a release, and the other is just…. peaceful .”

Krill turned his head back to the cascading water and the darkening sky above. He supposed it made sense, the white noise mixed with the slight darkness would be enough to put a human to sleep. He had used some of the same principles in medical work to calm agitated humans

“Some scientists think our love of the smell of rain is an evolutionary response to how important rain is for humans.”

That too made sense. Humans were more than half water.

Adam closed his eyes, “The word for the smell of water is petrichor from the greek roots Petri which means stone and ichor which means blood of the gods.”

“That is… surprisingly poetic.”

“I always thought so.”

The human sighed and lay back onto porch letting the warm water cascade over his bare feet. Krill watched quietly as the human napped peacefully on the wooden planks of the front porch simply listening to the rain.

After a while, the human opened an eye and looked over at him, “There is one other great thing about warm rain.”

Krill sighed and waited for whatever the human was about to do or say that was completely dumb.

The human smiled at him, and as he waited the smile grew bigger and bigger until the human was grinning fit to burst.

“PUDDLES!”

Arms raised knees churning, the human raced out into the rain becoming immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. Krill hurried to the edge of the porch in shock and concern and bewildered fascination as the human danced around in the thundering rain.

His clothes were already soaked, his hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped down from his chin in a cascade.

He whooped with glee as he danced through the rain kicking up water with his feet from the large puddles that had accumulated in the yard. Some of the puddles were so deep they went up over his ankles, but the deeper the puddle the better as the human splaished and frolicked in the rain.

Dr. krill sat back and watched shaking his head as he watched the human playing out in the elements, seeming so happy and carefree as water poured from the sky. Mist rose up around him from the once hot pavement giving the air a sort of hazy quality.

He spun around in a wide circle amrs threw out to either side.

He paused and looked at Krill still standing under the protection of the roof. With one hand he waved him over. His T shirt and short were dark with water and sagged against his frame, sticking to his chest and legs, “Come on, its fun.”

Krill shook his head, “I think Observation is enough to sate my curiosity.”

“Oh come on Dr. Water wont kill you, and besides, there is no better way to learn than from experience.”

“I don’t think so.”

The human shook his head and trotted up the sidewalk. Krill tried to back away, but a hand passed through the torrent of water from the roof -- now spilling over the gutters-- and dragged him into the rain.

Krill was suddenly doused with a cascade of warm water that had him sputtering before he came out the other side.

Rain roared down from above spattering against his skin and rolling off his antenna.

It was surprisingly warm as it pooled around his feet.

The human tugged him along as he danced through the puddles sending waves of contaminated water up against krill’s chest.

The human tilted his head back, arms held out to either side allowing the rain to fall onto his exposed face.

Krill watched him for the longest time before finally tilting his head back allowing the rain to roll down over his face. Then, with some trepidation he held his arms out to either side.

The sensation was surprising. He suddenly felt as if he was falling upwards into the sky. Warm water trickled down his body and his mind stilled a bit as the rhythm of the rain took over. Rivulets of water ran from his hands and arms and off his legs onto the water beneath.

Beside him, the human was doing the same.

They were close to the porch now still looking up at the deafening sky.

Krill turned to look over at the human still playing in the puddles when he suddenly stopped and grew very still. Krill saw his eyes go wide as, around them, a sudden buzzing seemed to fill the air. It even began filtering in over his radio receptors.

The hairs on the human’s arms were standing up despite the rain.

Krill didn’t have time to react as suddenly the human launched forward tackling him back onto the porch, through a runnel of water. They hit the deck hard, rolling over the damp wood and onto the dry patch just beside the wall of the house. Krill yelped in surprise and pain ready to yell at the human for his strange behavior.

But the human had his ears covered and eyes shut.

Krill had no time to react as he was suddenly blinded by a horrific bolt of light so blinding it took up his entire vision, and then a massive repeating explosion that sent shockwaves through the air around them. The ground shook and sparks flew in every direction as the massive sound rubbled away into nothing leaving him dazed, blinded and reeling.

The human sat up from where he had landed on the deck.

“Hot damn! That was close.”

Krill turned his head to glower at the human as another distant bolt of lightning cut across the sky.

“What was that!”

“That my friend was a lightning strike.”

“A LIGHTNING STRIKE! A lightning strike! You mean to say you brought me out during an electrical storm! You wanted to play in the WATER during an ELECTRICAL STORM! I cannot believe you!”

“Hold on, now in my defence I didn’t KNOW it was an electrical storm.”

“Well you were WRONG and we almost DIED.”

“You were enjoying it before earth decided to be a bitch.”

Krill turned in an exasperated and panicked circle, “Is this something that you humans do a lot! Like intentionally go out into electrical storms and dance in the PUDDLES.”

The human shrugged, “Getting struck by lightning is a very rare occurrence, and I had no idea that one was coming to visit.”

“This planet with all of your unchecked electricity running rampant!”

“Well what do you want me to do, control the weather! Harness the elements, krill?”

Krill waved his hands over his head, “I am going inside. I should never have trusted your judgement about earth weather. Electrical storms! Honestly!” He turned around and marched inside, followed by the human a few moments later dripping wet and rolling his eyes just slightly.

Off in the distance, another crackle of lightning lit up the interior of the room sending a rumble through the ground. Krill toweled off while the human went to change his close.

The room darkneened, and suddenly there was another horrific flash of light and thunderous eruption. All the lights went out and krill squealed in shock hiding behind the couch as hail began pelting the windows now darkened.

Another crack of lightning sent stark white light to illuminate the front room before plunging them into blackness.

The hail grew heavier,

Krill curled up in the corner.

A light flicked on somewhere in the distance, and he looked up to find Adam walking down the hall spinning a little lever on a flashlight which grew brighter with every rotation of the elver.

“Pretty cool huh!”

“COOL IT JUST TOOK OUT THE POWER. WE ARE GOING TO DIE.”

“Calm down and take a chill pill my four legged friend. IT does this all the time, probably just hit a transformer or something. The power will be back on soon.” He set the flashlight down on the table beside Krill and went scrounging around in a nearby drawer, “We will be safe just as long as we stay away from the pipes and outlets if we can.”

He withdrew a small box, reaching inside and striking a small wooden stick against the outside of the box. There was a sudden flare of fire the stick sparked to life. Krill leaped back as the human held the little fire stick between his fingers, reaching into the drawer and lighting a string protruding from a block of wax. He set the block on a dish and then out on the table.

The flame flickered and cast orange light around the room as he walked over to sit next to krill leaning his head back, “That was always one of my favorite sounds.’

“What?” Kril Asked still staring at the open flame the human had left unattended on the table

“Thunder”

Krill glowered at him, “you like the sound of eminent destruction.”

He shrugged, “I don't know what to tell you. Its Calming.”

Kril was about to explode on the human about how NOT comforting the sound of thunder was when he raised a hand to silence him, “Well not when its right next to my head, but from a distance it is so…. remote , beautiful, and powerful. Lightning and thunder are the greatest unchecked power of nature, the bolts of which can burn hotter than the surface of the sun. He stood, walking over to a chair not far away and retrieving a blanket which he wrapped around himself before coming to sit back down, throwing his legs up on the couch as he leaned his head back to rest against a pillow.

He almost looked sleepy as the rain intensified.

Waffles walked over and jumped up to lay with him resting her head atop his chest with a soft grumble.

Krill stared at the both of them in near horror.

How was this ok?

Outside the window just before them, distant bolts of lightning cut purple and blue branches across the sky. In a way it reminded krill of human veins and arteries. As the candle flickered on the table, Krill’s mind was brought back to the word petrichor. Rock and the blood of the gods. In a surprisingly human turn of thought he mused at how the forks of lightning were like the veins of those gods that brought the rain leaving the human body a distant echo of something much greater.

He turned his head to the side, where the human now lay sleeping, wrapped like some kind of strange burrito with his head sticking out of one end and his feet sticking out the other.

Topped with a dog.

Krill sighed and rested in the darkness continuing to watch the storm as it passed overhead.

Beside him, the human hummed gently in his sleep once or twice.

Rocked to sleep by mother nature.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #Earth is space Ausralia #earth is a deathworld

557 notes · View notes

puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years ago

Text

storm over function

more warring exes! This is restored timeline stuff here, folks, so same timeline as every star in every sky, your confession is mine, and lightning rod. Technically a matter of time is like, just pre-Raiden going back in time to keep an eyeball on The Sorcerer(tm). Soon I’ll make a chart for easy reference (or I won’t!). Have fun figuring THIS shit out

warring exes OBV (Shang Tsung/Raiden)

Restored Timeline

Raiden glanced back up toward the palace, built into and atop the cliffside on Shang Tsung’s island as he shrugged out of his robes, handing them to blindfolded attendants. A ways off, a few more of the same were standing around a pair of seats, comfortably placed with a blanket beneath them and shade overtop, though the latter was unnecessary. A storm was brewing over the far horizon and would move over them within two hours. He could feel the charge in his whole body; it was part of him in that way and he relished the electricity.

“This is not necessary,” he insisted, turning toward Shang Tsung, who had already shrugged out of his own robes and tunic and was rotating first one shoulder then the other, pacing along the lines of their designated circle of kombat. “I am—”

“You are a deity and your body is not for their consumption,” responded the sorcerer, dark eyes sparkling with wicked mirth. It was his way of remedying Raiden’s eons-old chastity which manifested in honest bashfulness regarding his half-unclothed form. “Now come here, come; you never learned to fight with your hair free, so indulge me.”

Raiden approached and then turned, dropping to one knee before the sorcerer who conjured a band strong enough to hold the thunder deity’s hair and pulled it up into a serviceable bun. Patting it as a signal that he was finished, he admired Raiden’s bare torso, and the beautiful markings thereupon, as he stood. You are only for my consumption, he thought hungrily.

“Perhaps you will one day find the time to teach me,” mused Raiden, returning to his place across from Shang Tsung. So often in his recollection they had stood at odds, as foes. The sight was familiar, though in the eerie light of a pre-storm dawn, it brought him neither trepidation nor fear. Only anticipation tingled in his nerves, anticipation and lightning.

“Perhaps,” responded the sorcerer, dropping into a deep stance, one hand snaking out before him, fingers mimicking the fangs of a viper. Raiden may very well have mentored him and trained him to an extent—primarily on the best method of fighting gods, as he was assured there would be deities of some kind among the contestants—but the man was already an accomplished martial artist by the time the thunder god met him in this timeline and any other he could recall. His style had only refined itself over the years, plucking bits and pieces from others he had encountered and working to contrast beautifully with the no-frills style of his mentor.

Shang Tsung opened strong, flinging fire at Raiden, who moved quickly to the side and brought an open palm down on the beach. The resultant shockwave tossed sand into the air before him and, with a charge of lightning, he solidified it into fulgurite, just in time to block another barrage of fire. The fulgurite shattered, but left Shang Tsung with nothing to see, as Raiden had sparkported out of it and was now somewhere behind him.

Summoning his great staff, he drove it toward the sorcerer’s back.The blow was lightning fast and would have broken a lesser man in two. Dancing around that with serpentine mobility, Shang Tsung dared grab the end and, hauling Raiden forward, used that momentum to drive his leading elbow into the god’s face.

Stumbling back, Raiden loosed his grip upon the staff, which disappeared in a flash. Shang Tsung shook the numbness out of his fingers—such was the price of fighting a god, but oh, how the rewards were piled high, glittering in his mind’s eye—and resumed his stance, a wicked smile upon his handsome face. Raiden rubbed a thumb over his nose, reminiscent of his former student and now god of fire, Liu Kang, and spat blood. The red stuff, shot through with gold, fell upon the sand and hardened instantly into precious droplets of orihalcon, solidified ichor. The ore was priceless, but neither man was concerned with this.

Their eyes were locked and Raiden straightened, rolling his shoulders now, arcs of electricity tumbling down his arms and torso, dancing about his whole figure seemingly without rhythm. Who could say if he was putting on a spectacle for Shang Tsung, or if he simply could not help himself. Either way, it was a sight to behold in the red light of the rising sun. This time, it was he who rushed, covering himself in electricity and performing a flying dive tackle that would have no hope of recovery, should it land on an unprepared target. Shang Tsung, however, was not unprepared.

He moved deceptively, feigning surprise. When he was no longer in the path of the tackle, Raiden brought himself down and reversed his position, skidding a few feet in the sand, recovering swiftly enough to meet Shang Tsung, blow for blow, at the center of their makeshift arena. Fists and open palms reigned hard, blocked, parried, and absorbed as the need arose.

Shang Tsung narrowly dodged an axe kick charged with a lightning bolt, but no sooner had he moved than Raiden brought his other leg about in a wide roundhouse, propelling the sorcerer toward the water’s edge. He had barely time to lift his arms and protect himself; they would surely bruise. Shang Tsung relished the pain and the promise of markings from the thunder god.

Dropping his stance once more, he shifted his weight to his rear foot and prepared to charge. Raiden had range. With his height, his limbs were longer and that staff was deadly, but more than that, he had speed. Despite his size, he was a deity and Shang Tsung knew little which struck with the speed of lightning. He charged at that amazonian figure, but Raiden did not lunge to meet him.

Shang Tsung met hard, buzzing flesh and powerful arms as Raiden wrapped him tightly. When he did not squeeze, the sorcerer struggled. “What is the meaning of this?!”

“Tsung… look,” Raiden rumbled, his voice the tone of distant thunder as he gestured toward the ocean, far out and away on waves which had just begun to rise and froth. The sorcerer was grounded, brought down from the high of kombat by the almost urgent use of his given name. He turned in Raiden’s arms and narrowed his eyes out at the choppy ocean. The wind picked up and threatened his hard work on the bun in Raiden’s hair, but his eyes were upon the distant dot of an approaching ship.

“I was not expecting an envoy…�� Shang Tsung’s jaw tightened and he drew away from Raiden, irritated that they had been interrupted. “What is this incursion?” His jaw tightened at the offense. “No matter. That which lies beneath the waves will make short work of any wayward ship.”

Shang Tsung tossed his hand about, as if it was no bother to him one way or the other. Raiden, however, could not take his gaze off the approaching ship. Something about it was off, wholly wrong in a fundamental way which he could not place. Only when the sorcerer realized he would not divert the thunder god’s attention did he acquiesce to the unspoken request to investigate. With an adept, but irritated, flick of his wrist, he opened a portal behind them which would lead to the deck of the vessel.

“Come, pet,” he cooed venomously. “You desire to see it and we shall.”

Raiden, without addressing the sorcerer’s mockery, stepped through the portal and onto a salt-washed deck being rocked viciously by the roiling waves. A jarring impact told him that it was not only the waves that sought to capsize the vessel.

“There is no life on this ship!” Shang Tsung’s voice called harshly over the howl of the maelstrom, approaching with the dawn. He gestured sharply to the portal, but Raiden’s attention was on a door which led belowdecks. He began to move in that direction as a massive tentacle, half again as wide as a tree trunk, tossed itself up over the deck, spine-laden suckers attaching to the wood of the boards below it.

Shang Tsung summoned fire and burnt the thing into submission for the offense of swinging itself anywhere near his personage. He was not the master of the beasts in these waters, but nor was he beholden to them. His presence upon the island drew curiosity and traders alike, which, in turn, made meals for whatever lay beneath. Unless I am aboard, he thought viciously, stalking after Raiden.

“This ship is Edenian,” said the god of thunder, laying a hand on the timber trimming the door which led to the captain’s quarters. The construction was distinctly Edenian, though Shang Tsung might not have immediately known that, having never entered Edenia; it had fallen before he was born.

“And they were unfortunate refugees,” hissed Shang Tsung, “now come, before we join them.”

“There is yet life aboard,” Raiden insisted, stiffening. For a moment, the sorcerer wondered how in the world he could know such a thing. It occurred to him, then, that in his intellectual travels, he had unearthed the truths of the human body, that it was comprised of many elements and minerals. Above all that, however, its primary functions were regulated by electricity.

Lightning arced overhead and Raiden reached upward to deftly deflect a second bolt, sending it into a spine-tipped limb that had reached up over the deck to strike at him. Presently, he lifted both his arms, hands stretched skyward, forming a dome of protection over the deck. Shang Tsung was temporarily mesmerized by the display of raw power, the flex of the deity’s muscles as he performed this divine feat, and the sudden, relative calm about their current environs.

All around, the wind howled and shrieked with rage, as if irate that it could not penetrate Raiden’s barrier. Though the deck beneath them still pitched and yawed this way and that, they could now converse at a civilized volume.

“You must hold the barrier while I go belowdecks and see these lives which you say are left,” the sorcerer guessed, making a face of displeasure, but willing and able to do anything to please his lover. Raiden nodded. Resigned, but exhilarated by the challenge, Shang Tsung headed down below. He hoped to find valuable literature about Edenia and her people, perhaps a few priceless artifacts, some opulent jewelry.

He did not expect to find a woman clinging to life, curled around her child, covered in gore, both her own and that of strange, bug-like creatures who were in varying states of injury or hunger and chittered angrily at him as he approached to interrupt their tender meal. The infant screamed and the sorcerer released a volley of hellish fireballs toward the insectoid beings, carving a path to the woman and her baby.

Glancing around, he surmised that Raiden would not mind if he decided to play exterminator, but that the god of thunder would not much like the idea of him leaving a child. He reached down and plucked the swaddled thing, red-faced and bellowing, from the mother’s arms. The poor thing was so pale, he had no doubt she would succumb soon enough, but did her the favor of pulling what little remained of her soul from her enfeebled body, releasing it into the aether.

The bug-like things chittered angrily once more, some moving in, but none making any moves to attack. It was clear they understood strength, at least, and he left the ship’s hold unmolested.

Emerging onto the deck, holding the squalling infant, Shang Tsung saw that Raiden was still flexing his divinity to hold the storm at bay and the figure he cut was striking. Only momentarily was the sorcerer distracted by the powerful form, however. He approached Raiden and displayed his passenger.

“There were no more?” Dismayed, Raiden’s dark brows knit together, though his moonglow eyes fell upon the child in Shang Tsung’s arms. The sorcerer shook his head and offered the baby, carefully wrapping the swaddling cloths about her face to protect it from the rain which still fell. Hesitantly, gingerly, the god of thunder extended one tree trunk arm and received the child, taking great care to ensure her flesh did not contact his. Electricity arced off him in rolling waves, mimicking those beneath the ship.

His power had thus far warded off the beasts of the deep, as well, but it would not hold. God he may have been, but he was no more and they were restless, hungry. Nevertheless, Shang Tsung stepped away and moved back for the hatch which led belowdecks.

“This ship is infested,” he hissed, intent on ridding himself of a potential invasion.

“What? Shang Tsung, we must return to shore… This child is.. I cannot hold the babe long.”

“A moment longer and no more, pet,” came the response as the sorcerer descended, power radiating outward from his body in a threatening glow. The child fussed and wriggled in Raiden’s grip as he, with his other hand, held the lightning at bay. Bolts of it glanced off the barrier he had created, but he was soaked to the bone. He could feel that the cloth in which the child was wrapped had been oiled, which was fortunate; it would not be bone-chilled when they reached the shore.

Rumbling below deck shook the planks beneath his boots, but did not shatter them. Raiden watched the hatch, eyes narrowed. Shang Tsung had used the word “infested”, which had connotations of rodent or insectoid presences. Whatever it was, he did not want any chance of it reaching his shores. Clearing it was a wise decision, if it was done quickly.

Around the vessel, the tentacles and claws of the deep creatures grew ever more restless, however, and Raiden began once more to worry. He clenched his jaw and held the barrier, however. Though he could transport himself back to shore without the sorcerer’s help, he did not know if he could carry the baby as well.

The hatch rattled and Raiden’s eyes were instantly upon it. It had fallen closed sometime in the interim, though the sound was likely disguised by a thunderclap. Now, it shuddered and bulged threateningly. Raiden held the child closer, as gently as he could, directing the bulk of his energy through his other arm and into the barrier.

When the door burst open, flinging wood and some Edenian, steel-like alloy every which way, he dropped to one knee and turned in a gesture very reminiscent (almost identical, if truth be told) of his earlier motion to allow Shang Tsung to arrange his hair, presenting his divine back and shoulders to the blast, protecting the child, who had stopped squalling.

He only had a moment to regard her sleeping form in his arms when the discomfort of being riddled with high-velocity shrapnel set in and he grunted, though more with irritation than actual pain. The rain water stung it, but, even as he bled gold onto the deck, he was standing and turning to see what had erupted from the hatch.

The creature was humanoid, but clearly also an insect. It hovered above the deck, at least ten feet or so, and let out a vicious screech. Wings beat the air and three familiar appendages stood, poised and ready to strike. Raiden’s eyes widened.

“D’vorah…” He did not know if this thing was she, or if all Kytinn humanoids looked the same. She appeared singed, whomever she was, and enraged. She hissed and began a quick descent, intent on a divebomb maneuver. Shang Tsung emerged from the hatch, clothes more than a little ruffled, lips twisted into a snarl just as Raiden dropped the barrier and a lightning bolt speared the female insectoid to the deck, splattering her chitinous hide and blue blood.

“The Kytinn,” Shang Tsung hissed, “are not welcome on my island.”

Raiden’s eyes widened imperceptibly. What were Kytinn doing on an Edenian ship? The construction style was old, pre-Kahn, and his mind was racing to connect dots which were not readily presenting themselves. He considered all these things as Shang Tsung opened a portal back to the beach. The beasts below began to re-emerge, slinging tentacles this way and that. Raiden held the child and the sorcerer blasted limbs which came too close as they returned to the safety of his island.

The portal closed behind them and they turned to watch the distant vessel sink under a mass of boneless limbs; they could hear the crack of timber like bone, born on a gale-force wind. The storm had by now reached the island and Shang Tsung’s servants were rushing forward to offer the sorcerer and his divine consort cover. Raiden handed the child back to Shang Tsung as a blindfolded servant proffered dry robes and another four moved with swift anticipation to lift the oiled canopy over their heads.

Raiden took the robes, but did not put them on. Shang Tsung had grasped at his elbow and turned him to view the damage done by the exploding hatch door. He frowned at the marring of divine flesh, the ichor flowing from still-open wounds down Raiden’s broad back.

“Return to the keep,” he instructed his servants, opening yet another portal for himself, Raiden, and the sleeping infant to enter. This one led to the chambers he shared with Raiden and the servants which surrounded them, though still blindfolded, averted their gaze instantaneously. This view, too, was forbidden. Raiden moved to protest, but the flinty snap of fire in his lover’s eyes advised against it and he followed the sorcerer to safety and warmth.

Conjuring a bassinet of excessive opulence for the child, Shang Tsung placed it inside and then turned to Raiden. “Your back, radiant one… it is still injured and, much as I… appreciate the orihalcon deposits, it ill-suits you to bleed.”

“The child,” Raiden grunted. “Is it… does it live?”

Shang Tsung’s smile was a strange mixture of condescension and fondness. He nodded, gesturing to the lavish bassinet. Raiden moved to loom over the child, who slept peacefully as if nothing at all had happened. The smile which appeared on his face was soft, warm, and caused the sorcerer’s breath to catch in his throat. He stayed his hands but a moment more before moving in to examine Raiden’s injuries.

“I am well, Shang Tsung,” Raiden assured the man over his shoulder.

“Your stunning form is marred,” retorted Shang Tsung, “and though the offender has been punished, I will not be satisfied until your golden blood no longer flows outside your veins.”

“You are concerned with the state of your carpets,” Raiden rumbled, the jest a mild surprise to the sorcerer, who laughed once through his nose.

“They are quite expensive, pet.” He removed pieces of shrapnel with great care as Raiden looked down at the child whose small, pudgy hands had managed to make their way out of the oil cloth wrappings and were balled into tiny fists under her fat chin. His core thrummed with warmth and soft feeling for the strange infant. He wanted to hold her.

Shang Tsung marveled at the speed with which Raiden’s flesh knitted itself back together. The wounds were not deep and soon, with the proper application of magic and gentle touch, all were closed and the glowing mural upon his back—of clouds and thunder—had restored itself. Shang Tsung ran a hand down the thunder god’s spine, resting it upon his lower back where his true name sat, etched in the luminous script of the gods.

Raiden’s head lifted, and then turned. He watched the sorcerer out of one glowing eye. Shang Tsung’s other hand rose and, with a wave, dispatched the enchanted tie which held Raiden’s hair, spilling it about his shoulders and back, obscuring the mural, but only just. His other hand stayed where it was, low, and possessive.

“Come,” he whispered, “bathe… and be mine.”

Shang Tsung’s keep was built into the mountain peak of his island and he, adept sorcerer and inventor that he was, had fashioned the place to his liking. Part of that meant using the heat of the adjacent volcano to facilitate running, hot water. Reluctant to leave the child, but knowing it would sleep, Raiden allowed himself to be guided, one hand still upon the small of his back, the other now grasping his hand, to the sorcerer’s private bathing chambers, which, like his boudoir, were built half in and half out of his mountain. The bath was already full and steaming, fed by a natural spring and a little bit of enchantment. Windows had also been carved out of the very stone, so they could observe the other side of Shang Tsung’s expansive home on a clear day, though at the moment, it was enveloped in storm and shadow. Above the clouds this way, it was peaceful once more.

“I would have you clean before you soil my sheets,” Shang Tsung purred, the teasing evident in the way he held his celestial lover. Raiden’s exhalation of breath told the sorcerer that he was loosening up a bit, and would do as he suggested. “They are also quite expensive, you know.”

His hand slid lower, one dexterous thumb hooking over the hem of the thunder god’s trousers. Raiden gave him a look over his shoulder and Shang Tsung pressed his lips to the flesh of that same shoulder in response. It was always a gamble, bathing with the embodiment of lightning, but the sorcerer was, if nothing else, a betting man. Still holding Raiden’s left hand with his, Shang Tsung slid that thumb around, pulling the fabric gently away from salt-caked flesh, relishing in the deliberate slowness of it and the way the thunder god’s grip shifted and tightened ever-so-slightly in his as he removed that barrier of fabric. His hand only left Raiden’s to grasp his chest firmly from behind, pressing himself close to that broad back, holding tightly, wanting to bruise and to mark, but knowing it would not last.

Fingers wandered, hands groped and held and caressed. Raiden wondered if there was a bath imminent, or if the sorcerer was simply toying with him. The answer was an easy one. Yes. He was always toying with the god of thunder, but long ago, Raiden had ceased minding. He leaned into the touch, and felt bereft when it was gone—though only for a moment, as the sorcerer much desired the contact of bare, charged flesh—and was grateful for its return. Only then, together, did they step down into the scalding water, the surface of which danced almost immediately with arcs of electricity. Raiden shifted to face Shang Tsung, who drove him gently toward the opposite end and the seats which were carved from rock and lay a few feet below the water.

“Always this concern for me, pet,” purred the sorcerer as he perched himself upon the thunder god’s lap and began sorting out his hair. The salt had caked it, as well, and it would take some immersion to cleanse. “I assure you, any pain incurred by you is the height of pleasure to me.”

“Until it is not,” Raiden grunted, considering his past—no longer a potential future, but still agonizing in his breast—wherein his power which pleased Shang Tsung so had been the end of Liu Kang. The man’s name, the name of a god now, floated about in his mind, swelling and shrinking, reminding him why he had been sent here, and who had sent him. It had been long since he had conferred with Fire God Liu Kang, but Raiden took that as a positive sign, that the keeper of time was coming into himself, gaining mastery over those wickedly shifting sands.

Shang Tsung waved this off and shook his head. “It will always be,” he insisted, “as it has always been.” He raised one hand in a flippant gesture toward the ceiling and the roof pulled back with a strange, half-mechanical hum. The brass and iron of which it was made slid seamlessly against the stone slots crafted to hold it and they were under the canopy of stars, high above the rolling storm, bare as the day they were born (or formed, in the case of the god of thunder), beholden to nobody but the other and, debatably, not even then. Raiden’s hand rested easily upon the sorcerer’s hip as Shang Tsung continued to sort through his hair, summoning a small bucket with which to douse him.

“The child,” Raiden said slowly, the warm water working its way into him, soothing and caressing every inch as Shang Tsung was also doing. Truly, the sorcerer wished that their positions could be reversed; he appreciated the weight upon himself, but reaching the deity’s hair would have been a chore and “work smarter, not harder” was, as ever, a motto of his, when the situation called for it.

“Yes?” He was eager to hear what Raiden had to say of the little Edenian they had rescued from the jaws of horrific death.

“A name, Shang Tsung, the child must have a name.” There was resolution upon Raiden’s face that set the sorcerer’s mind (and loins, if truth be told) ablaze. He continued his slow movements, gently tipping the bucket to wash out yet more salt.

“The child must have a name, yes,” he agreed slowly. “And what would you name this child of ours?”

Shang Tsung was certain that, if the ichor-filled veins of the god had been the red of a human, Raiden’s cheeks would have been afire. Those strange, celestial eyes of his snapped to Shang Tsung’s and they held each other there a moment, the sorcerer ceasing his motions in order to meet that gaze. A minute nod was the only response, a tacit agreement to raise the child alongside his divine lover, in his home, to educate and train and bring the child up into an acceptable—though what could be less than exquisite in Shang Tsung’s collection—adult.

“I would name the child Liu Kang,” said Raiden after a long pause. “The Fire God will be pleased.”

“Perhaps even amused,” intoned the sorcerer, the edge of his lip curling into a sneer. Raiden ignored this, brow rising as if to say ‘you DID ask me, did you not?’ and with that, it was settled. Shang Tsung closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, leaning down to press their lips together. “We will call the child Liu Kang.”

As if summoned by its new name, the swaddled infant let out a lively shriek and then began to bawl fitfully. Their eyes met and Shang Tsung rolled his, sliding off Raiden’s lap and retreating for the edge of the pool, bidding Raiden stay where he was. He summoned the bassinet with a flick of his wrist. The thing rolled in, jingling over the stones, but not jarring the child even a little. Lifting his hand, Shang Tsung called the cradle portion forth and it detached easily from the ornately carved legs—dragons curled around these, golden with eyes of ruby—and hovered toward the water. Raiden shifted with alarm, but the sorcerer chuckled and, with his other hand, summoned a barrier about the bassinet, a sort of curtain of light, and then deposited it like a boat into the water. Liu Kang shrieked again, though this time it sounded more like delight, though the babe was surely hungry.

“Liu Kang was the right name,” Raiden said in a satisfied manner as Shang Tsung pulled the bassinet toward where they had positioned themselves. The baby had come unwrapped in its fitful squalling and, as the sorcerer peered into the cradle, a smile broke upon his lips. Their daughter peered up at him with raven black hair, just like his, and stormy hazel eyes. She reached and he returned the grasp with a finger, Raiden looking on with a foreign sort of fondness.

“Yes, Liu Kang will do.”

#cc #cw #nsfa #kinda???#warring exes #mortal kombat #raiden #shang tsung

5 notes · View notes

autobuttonsanddeceptistitches · 5 years ago

Text

Viper’s Vengeance Chapter 1

Hello everyone! I am happy to announce that I am returning to writing once again! This story in particular is one I’ve been looking forward to posting. I’d like to give credit to EngineerHoist, a person on YouTube who did a live reading of the first two paragraphs of this story. Without his reading, I wouldn’t have the motivation to continue writing the rest of this chapter and figure out ideas for the future ones to come. Here’s the reading itself alongside the two paragraphs to follow along.

...

A pure black visor stared at the acid green flames dancing higher and higher above the fallen Cobra base. His acid gun slipped down worn fingers, Viper's knees gave way to the course sand surface. Wings lowered and bullet ridden. Spent a whole day, by himself getting rid of his creators. Humans, they've done nothing but cause chaos in his life. Memories racing in his head. Torment, lobotomy, neglect. They're dead, all of them. The red symbol he detests on his wings, the first born human made Cybertronian. Meant to be a weapon against other inferior humans. He got up, taking his battered body away from the sea of acid he'd inflicted on the pitiful humans.

The pain overwhelmed him, those tanks, the copters, forced him to land into the sand once again. Tiny grains blowing against ruined true blue paint. Maybe its best to die now, he killed those who brought him to this world, to stifle his life because of a failure, yet, he danced with Decepticons. As he listened to the fire cackling from back at his 'birthplace', a shadow overtook his vision. One with yellow optics; processor trying to bring back any memories of those with yellow. It stung, its always hurt to look through memories due to the lobotomy. Got difficult to remember important things, most assumed short term memory loss that Shockwave didn't bother to look through. Maybe if he does survive this pit he'll force that lazy scientist to help. For now, this mysterious fellow seemed to be helping him out. Other colors became recognizable. Nightbird...

His processor kept repeating the same visions. A record player of rotating screams of torment. Flesh melting away into the puddles of their creation's tears. Among the fragments is of a human cowering in a corner, his face cut and green jacket torn off. Instead of fear, he scowled.

“I gave you a new life Viper! You can't do this to me when I wasn't involved with what happened! I freed you from your prison!” Luca screamed, shaking his fist up.

“You betrayed the Decepticons, for a few dollars more...” Viper replied, taking aim and letting the green flames come to life... One traitor down, never deserving to wear the silver badge on his jacket.

The agonizing screams started to grow numbing as the malfunctioning processor stopped thinking. Focused on preserving the battered soldier, for his mission is complete at last. Nightbird, the last thought on his mind, wondering why she came. Did Megatron ask the ninja to investigate? Too tired to question, gotta sleep...

Music began to play, the kind that'd be relaxing to whoever took a listen with its keyboards. Optics lit up to the sight of the bright lights meant for surgery. A figure came into vision again, this time, its one with a red visor. Dang it, more faces to identify. At least his bright green paint job helped determine which of the Constructicons this is.

“Well, I thought you wouldn't turn gray because your human made.” Hook smirked, stepping back to grab a few more tools.

“How'd I get here?” Viper tried sitting up, yet pain spiked in his back, forcing him to lie down again.

“Nightbird dragged you in here and told me to get to work. Sounds like you made them all pay. Megatron will be glad to hear the details.” He grabbed one of the wings and began to pluck out the bullets. Viper's servos clenched, wishing he could get up and clobber the mech. Everything's too numb, like something's in his system. It could be either that or armor is still recovering from the trauma.

“Did Megatron ask her to come along?” Optics watched as the boxy helmed mech shook from left to right. His tray piling up with small metal pieces. Other Constructicons began to assist their brother and repair the damaged armor. Hook pulled off the broken black glass, revealing two vibrant blue optics underneath.

“Nope, he didn't order anyone to see your attempts. We thought you would've died. Looks like you're made of sterner stuff.” Viper didn't retort, rest, must rest and wait until he could find that canary and force the answers out of her.

It felt odd to not wear a visor anymore. His once unseen optics inspected the long hallways of the military base. A few Decepticons walked by the broken freak of a soldier. Some glanced by, but others chuckled, giddy that they aren't made by flesh creatures. Viper remained firm as he walked, wings still in pain, but will get repaired another time. Hook and others had to deal with other tarnished things. He's already broken, always been since the failure. All to think about was the silver emotionless face before his processor got torn apart. The former Cobra mech didn't notice the three fingered hand grabbing his shoulder. A great smirk embedded into one's golden face.

“Well done Viper, I enjoy human sacrifices. They were my favorite parts of Aztec history.” The one whose name would send shivers down one's Energon veins. His grin became twisted as a Cheshire Cat's. Viper glanced back, seeing the purple glowing in his vision.

“I don't care Malus, you can interpret it any way you want, but its my story, and I ended it.” Viper tried moving, yet the demigod kept a firm hold.

“Where are you going? Do you believe that I am not worthy for a conversation?” His frown changed as much as a mask for the audience of an opera.

“I want some time to myself. I spent all day fighting for my freedom while you and everyone else sat back and enjoyed my suffering like a show!” Viper's wings flared, even if he's shorter than him, that fire burned in blue optics.

“Your war, not mine.” Oh, if the snake had his acid gun, then there wouldn't be any trace of this rotten fruit anywhere. Who cares if he's the guardian to some shiny balls, none of his business.

“Be lucky I spent all my rage on the humans, rather than you.” He stomped away as Malus scoffed.

“Toodle pip Viper.” Spat out as he transformed into his spider tank alt mode and crawled away.

More faces, the same faces rewinding faster as the figures passed by. Some showing hints of concern, but hidden by their tough attitudes and looks. Viper shrugged each off, not caring if anyone was walking around this morning. Sometimes questions about the ninja, yet none replied. Until he reached up to Swindle with a fist aimed at his face.

“You're the last scumbag I'll ask today, where is Nightbird?” Viper hissed, showing the scars on broken fingers. The mech smirked, trying to cower away from the situation.

“Come on Viper, I know you had one heck of a night, but give me some credit. I didn't sell anything to Cobra,” bam! A fist to the face, letting fresh pain reel in pristine faceplates.

“Say that word again, I could go for another injection of their venom into my veins.” He goaded, before noticing a glimmer of yellow that vanished down the hallway.

“Hey!” The Rattler ran, leaving Swindle to cough up some Energon.

A giant hanger, of all places to hide in. Dark blue came in, broken glass trying to inspect wherever the femme could be. He noticed her shadow among the dim lights. Dancing around old machinery that'd been defunct for a long time. Human made items, Hook would use them for spare parts when needed. Swindle pawning off each piece for big bucks. A flicker of yellow again right beside him. Nightbird, what is she doing? She held up a blade against his neck.

“Sever the cables, and you will do nothing.” She spoke in such stillness that wouldn't alert anyone of her presence. Viper tensed, gripping the yellow weapon and making sure it wouldn't leave its mark.

“I want answers to why you were following me!” He yelled out, flipping the femme over. Nightbird groaned, unable to get up before he pressed his arm onto her neck. His other servo gripped the blade in her hand. They stared, optics burning in the morning sunlight as it crept from tiny windows in the room. Blue and yellow, much like an electric storm.

“Didn't want to continue living?” She whispered, leaning up even when he tried pushing her down.

“My life is over, I have no reason to continue, so why bring me back?” Nightbird looked away.

“We're soldiers, and you're purpose shouldn't end in such a way.” She exhaled, kicking the mech off, Viper stood back up, retaining his balance.

“Then why try killing me if I wanted to say thanks?” Blue optics observed Nightbird's own. A hint of concern behind that bright yellow often coated in anger.

A large hangar door opened, letting Soundwave come in. His armor is much more chunky on the legs and torso. A result from getting kidnapped by Cobra. Red visor caught the attention of the duo, with his cassettes tagging along.

“Viper, our lord Megatrons request to meet with you.” Said in his monotone elegance.

“I'll not keep them waiting, we'll talk about this later.” The Rattler strode away from the short conflict. Soundwave looked at Nightbird, seeing how upset she appeared to be.

“Is something wrong?” The femme shook her helm.

“No, how do you feel about that armor?” She tapped onto his shoulder, feeling the strong materials constructing it.

“It is an inferior version of myself, but I will adjust.” He transformed and let his little minions climb aboard before driving back outside. Nightbird stared, pondering what thoughts are rushing in Viper's processor right now.

Chapter 2

#Transformers #Transformers Earth Wars #Earth Wars #Transformers fanfic #fanfic #TF #Maccadams #Viper #Nightbird #Soundwave #Story #fanfiction #Viper's Vengeance

4 notes · View notes

loridrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Imprisoned | Dogma x Reader (Part 9)

This is a lemon. We gotta use the citrus scale again.

Dogma and the reader make up for lost time. Reupload because it got taken down ny tumblr. Thanks tumblr.

Over time, (y/n) wounds healed. Slowly, but with Dogma's tentative care, the treatment from Kix, and time, the infection was kept at bay and her once open, bleeding flesh, was now new and pink, though still a little tender to the touch. Not only did her wounds heal, but their relationship grew. They forgot about their petty disputes and quarreling from when they barely knew eachother's names and realized they got along better than they ever expected. Most of their days, they just sat around and talked, holding endless conversations. Today, their conversation lead down a more serious, tender path.

"So." (Y/n) started, not completely sure if she wanted to ask what was on her mind. She was happy with the rather romantic connection they shared, and she didn't want to ruin it with a clear answer, but she had to know. "If we were let out today, would you still like me?"

"Yes. Of course I would." He said kissing her forehead. They sat on the edge of the bed. (Y/n) took the pillow she was holding and set it back at the head next to her.

"Really?" She asked.

"I've had my fair share of crushes and quick, 'I like you while I'm stationed here' romances, but this feels different. It feels like love." He responded, planting a firm yet sweet kiss on her lips making her giggle.

"I love you." She said, kissing him back again.

He leaned into her kiss, capturing and recapturing her lips. Her tongue flicked across his teeth and he chuckled quietly to himself.

He grabbed her face and got a little rough, slipping his tongue in her mouth. She fought back, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving her body towards his in an attempt to get on his lap. He was too strong and pushed her down on the bed. She laughed, trying to get up as he leaned over her. He removed his body from hers, making her think she was victorious until he climbed further into the bed, straddling her as she tried to get up. He pushed her back down, his lips on hers, enjoying her warmth and the softness of her skin before coming up to take a breath. The both of them, slightly out of breath, locked eyes with eachother.

"Is it bad that I really want to fuck you right now?" He whispered.

"I was kind of hoping that that's where this is going." She said, laughing a little nervously, pulling his head down to meet her lips again.

He hummed a deep laugh as he ran his hands slowly up and down her body, his kisses moving from her lips to her neck. He grabbed the hem of her dull, blue pinafore and slipped it off her body, followed by her tshirt then his henley. Kisses moved further down her body, down to her stomach until he reached the band of her underwear which he pulled off once it got in his way.

He looked up at her, making eye contact with a hint of a smile as he palmed her soft mound between her legs. He moved closer to her body, so he could lean forward and kiss her as he played with her. He dipped a finger inside, and felt the rush of her gasp against his lips as he added another. He massaged her slowly, horribly slow and used the heel of his hand to stimulate her clit, making her roll her hips into his grasp, begging for more.

"Hmm. You like that?" He asked, quickening his pace with his fingers. She arched her back biting her lip, only for the moment to be ruined by the sudden loss of Dogma's touch. She whimpered as she watched him slip off his pants, his cock stretching the fabric of his shorts before he pulled them off as well.

"Please don't stop." She cried as he slid one of his fingers into his mouth, cleaning it off.

"I'm just getting started, baby." He growled, popping the other one into her own mouth.

She sucked her juices from him then he grabbed her legs, positioning them around his waist.

He grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip up and down her slit before sliding it inside of her. She let out a cry and threw he head back, wishing she had told him it was her first time so he would be more gentle. Over time they had grown so close, he must have sensed her thoughts.

"Have you done this before?" He asked, stopping. She shook her head no. "Just relax. It'll be great."

She took a deep breath, relaxing her body allowing him to enter her completely.

"Tell me when." He said, bringing a hand down to gently rub her clit as she got used to his size. Her core ached as her body tried to stretch around him. Slowly, the pain went away.

"Ok." She said. He removed his hand, leaning over her, bracing himself on his forearms. The closeness and warmth from their bodies kept away the coldness of the cell. He slowly and methodically bucked his hips into hers. Butterflies filled their stomachs and electricity pulsed through both their bodies.

(Y/n) moaned and turned her head to the side to bury her face in the pillow. He had given her time to get used to him, but the new sensations were still a lot to take in. He filled her up and stretched her out in the most pleasurable way. Each thrust felt better and better and with the pain now gone she was on cloud nine.

His heavy breaths and groans in her ear paired with his warm scent he somehow managed to sustain despite the passing months made her never want to leave him. Not that she had a choice, but if they were given freedom the next morning she'd stay in bed, curl up on his chest and fall back asleep.

"Fuck, you feel so good, (y/n)." His ragged speech brought her out of her trance as her eyes snapped to his. He pushed his body off hers sitting back on his heels and he grabbed her hips to pull her closer. He resumed the rocking and pounding of his hips into hers, bringing his hand down to massage her pussy.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming, letting out a whimper instead and dug her fingers into the mattress. Her mouth drifted open and she made eye contact with him as he fucked her, the both of them drawing closer and closer to climax. His pace quickened, both his hips and his hand moving in harmony with one another sending shockwaves through (y/n)'s body.

"F-fuck, Dogma. I'm...I'm gonna cum." She panted. She cried and moaned as she reached orgasm, her body trembling as it flowed through her. As she came down from her high, Dogma reached his own orgasm, pulled out of her and came all over her body. He rocked back on his heels, smiling at the form of her body, covered in his seed. She smiled and let out a little giggle as he bent down to kiss her.

As he got up and headed for the refresher, he tossed her a cloth to clean up.

"Join me when you're ready." He said, disappearing from the room. She wiped herself up and tossed the dirty rag and sheet from the bed in front of the door to be taken away next time they were given new supplies. She laid out both of their clothes on the bench and jumped in the shower with him.

(Y/n) was drying her hair off with a towel in the refresher when she heard Dogma call for her help from outside. He had already gotten dressed and was tugging at the frame of his bed.

"What are you doing?" She asked laughing. He laughed as well.

"Sex was hard enough on a single bed. Sleeping isn't going to be much easier." She laughed at his shamelessness.

"Ok lemme get dressed first." She said grabbing her underwear and tshirt from the bench. She slipped them on and helped Dogma by pushing the opposite side of the bed. They managed to rotate it so the headboard was against the wall opposite to the bench. They switched to (y/n)'s bed and successfully made one large bed in the middle of the room.

"There we go." Dogma said plopping onto the bed, stretching out his arms for her to join him. It was getting cold at night so he piled all of their blankets on top of one another.

She climbed under the covers that were already warm from his body heat. She snuggled up close to him and he wrapped his arms around her and have her a kiss on the top of her head.

#dogma #clone trooper dogma x reader #clone trooper dogma #the clone wars headcanons #the clone wars imagine #the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars #imprisoned #imprisoned part 9

38 notes · View notes

arcanesupern0va · 6 years ago

Text

Rick In The Water; Ch9: Electric Feel

Summary: Oh, thar be smuts here, warning to all those ye enter here.

A/N: This chapter picks up RIGHT where the last one left off. I actually had to split it up in two because it was getting too long (I usually like to get 5,500-6,000 words per chapter) and this is like last chapter part two. There be smuts, and I haven’t written smut in a very very long time so don’t judge me. It’s also pretty vanilla, but I was like, Nova’s not exactly in the know about all the wild ass kinks out there, I imagine her sex life isn’t… ya know… rewarding. Also, there is just smut to be smut. They had to bang eventually and I was getting pretty irritated that I couldn’t exactly find a place to fit it in sooooooooooooooooo… I just made ‘em fuck. #yolo CW: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6750

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch8: What It Is To Burn|

“I’m gonna go help Beth with dinner,” I sighed, pecking a kiss on Rick’s cheek and making my way into the main of the house. The cool AC made me acutely aware of the filth covering my skin so when Beth assured me she didn’t need any help, I quickly settled on taking a shower. The warm cascade enveloped me and it was all I could do not to moan at it. I grabbed my body scrub, using it to ensure the filth of that decrepit building would be eradicated. After I was through with the hair on my head, I grabbed my razor and neatly cleaned up any stray hairs before toweling off and coating myself in my lotion to ensure there was no way that putrid smell would be lingering on my skin. I dressed, pulling on a pair of loose fabric shorts and a thin tank top, making sure to drop my clothes and towel off at the laundry before making my way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Nova sweetie, perfect timing,” Beth greeted me, grabbing the last dish from the counter and taking it into the dining room. “We’re having meatloaf for dinner tonight, Morty’s favorite,” she beamed at her son who fidgeted nervously in his chair. Beth caught me up on her day and asked me about the job hunt as we shared a bottle of wine. It broke my heart to tell her it was going dismally, but she assured me it was okay, that I didn’t even have to worry about it, much to Jerry’s frustration.

“So it’s okay if Nova can’t get a job, but me not being able to find one is the end of the world?” he snapped at his wife only to receive a dangerous glare in return.

“Well, when you start bringing in any actual income, then you can have an opinion on the financial decisions of this household again,” she told him sharply.

“I’m thinking about starting looking in the next town over,” I assured her, trying to salve the conversation before it became even more hostile. “I think the salon I worked at here badmouthed me to some of the others in town.”

“Nova, I’m serious. It’s okay,” she assured me, resting her hand on mine before completely changing the subject, “I saw Ryan was here again.”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to get him to accept that I'm not coming home,” I lamented, pushing the remaining peas on my plate around, before sitting back into my chair, frustrated.

“Well no matter what, you’re welcome, hell you’re encouraged to stay here with me. This is the happiest I’ve seen you in years. If you need somewhere for Madi, I’m sure Summer wouldn’t mind sharing her room with her.”

“Oh, great, just move her whole household in with us,” Jerry spat bitterly.

“Jerry, if you have an issue with me inviting my friend to live with us to help her escape her abusive household, then you and I can discuss it privately as we pack your bags so you can move out,” she threatened evenly, “Here’s a plan, why don’t you just go live with Ryan.”

“We could raise Summer, Morty, and Madi as the nice lesbian couple we were always meant to be,” I grinned at her, glancing at Rick to find him rolling his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s been since high school,” she murmured dreamily, resting her hand back on mine, “We definitely picked the wrong path.” Rick’s eyes bulged again as Jerry smiled nervously as his eyes flicked between us.

“Mom!” Summer shouted, finally fed up with the conversation.

“Calm down Summer, it’s just a running joke your Aunt and I have had since we were kids,” Beth told her dismissively and Rick seemed to relax in his chair.

“I spent so much time at your Mom’s house, and teenagers suck,” I shrugged at her, “They were convinced we were gay and rather than argue against it and be bullied for it, we just rolled with it.”

“H-How did I not know about that?” Jerry asked, confused, “I never even heard that rumor.”

“Your ignorance truly knows no bounds, Jerry,” Rick told him gruffly.

“Oh, like you had any idea.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about this rumor before,” he told him smartly, picking up his plate and returning it to the kitchen. “I’m going to go watch TV, I can’t stand listening to you guys squabble anymore. Thank you for dinner sweetie, everything was delicious.” He kissed Beth on the top of her head and headed for the living room.

*+*

When dinner was finally cleaned up and all the dishes and another wine bottle or two were put away, Beth bid me goodnight and I was left to join Rick on the couch. Admittedly, my head was spinning from the wine as I plopped down next to him, my usual inhibitions not present to stop me from using my fingers to walk up his thigh slowly. He flushed, barking at Summer and Morty about it being time for bed, regardless of what season it was, or the fact it was only 8:30. When they finally disappeared upstairs with two slams of their respective doors, Rick mimicked my walking motion with his own hand on my upper thigh, sending chills down my spine as he moved further up my leg. My head was set in a blissful haze so despite my usual reservations courtesy of nerves, I climbed into his lap like I had done only twice before and pushed my lips onto his hungrily. He returned the kiss swiftly, working his hand up under my shorts to roughly grip my ass. My hips fell into a comfortable rotation as his free hand traced around my breasts.

“W-Wait. Nova, w-wait,” he groaned as my hips picked up the pace. I paused my hips to pull away and look down, only even more turned on at the sight of him looking up at me so desperately. “A-Are you ready for this? Like, really ready?”

“Rick, I was going to wait around forever if I was going to depend on you to make a move,” I breathed into his ear before kissing from his ear down to his neck.

“Let’s go to my room,” he told me, already staving off a moan as I bit his neck gently. “I-It’s soundproofed, they won’t hear us.” He reached for his portal gun, groaning as he remembered his had been destroyed and its bastardized replacement was still sitting on his work desk.

“Oh, you mean they won’t hear me as I moan on your co-”

”Jesus fucking christ Nova,” he swore, grabbing my wrist and dragging me behind him down the hall to his room. Closing the door behind him, he surveyed me heatedly under the cool blue light of the TV at the foot of his bed. “Are you sure you want this Nova?” he asked again, watching lustfully as I traced my hands up and down my body.

“Rick, would you please stop asking that question?” I whined, “I’m a goddamn adult and I want you. I want you to touch me, I want to feel your hands on me.”

“I can taste the wine on your breath,” he eyed me suspiciously. I let out a frustrated groan, moving toward him again, only to receive his hand pressed flat to my chest. “There is an enormous amount of self-restraint being used here, Nova. I don’t want to do anything that you might regret.”

Instead of answering, I pushed past his hand and walked him back to the small cot he used as a bed. After giving him a gentle shove, he dropped onto the cot as I climbed back on top of him. If he was going to be stubborn, then for once in his life he was going to have to let someone else take control. I held his gaze as I carefully guided his hand up my thigh and under my shorts. He bit back a low groan as he felt how soaked my panties were already. I continued to guide his fingers under the cotton to swirl around the most sensitive part of me to allow him to fully appreciate how ‘ready’ I was.

I leaned my head back as he twirled around the delicate button, letting out a moan of my own as I felt the pleasure already started to build in my gut. Gently tugging his hand away, I brought his fingers up to his mouth to allow him a sinful taste. He rolled his head back, trying to resist his most primal urges at the taste of me on his fingers.

“Is that ready enough for you Rick?” I purred, brushing my lips over his ear. I felt a shockwave reverberate through his entire body, culminating in a low growl rumbling from within. With a loud moan, he let go of his reservations, working his hands up under my shorts again, gripping my ass tightly as he kissed around my neck.

“Jesus fucking christ Nova,” he swore again as his hands grazed over me, gripping me desperately like he just couldn’t get enough of the feeling of my skin. I reveled in his affection, cooing as he traced his fingers down my thighs, really taking his time to explore my body. His mouth moved away from my neck, pulling off my shirt and kissing up my torso as it was slowly revealed to him. I unsnapped my bra, letting the straps fall over my shoulders as he kissed the area where it still met my skin. He peppered small kisses and love bites all over my torso, moaning as I ground my hips against his.

“I want you, Rick,” I moaned again, feasting on the reaction the four words seemed to elicit from him without fail. He finished removing my bra and tossed it aside, taking one of my nipples gently into his mouth as he swirled his tongue around it. “I love you,” I cooed again and again. Even though he never said it back, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the words were true. I let my head fall back as he swirled his tongue around my nipples, the words serving to only spur him on further. He kissed down my abdomen, lightly nipping as his touch became desperately rougher yet. Displeased there were parts of my body his mouth couldn’t quite reach, he picked me up and tossed me down on the bed, pausing to carefully memorize every curve of my body. Under anyone else’s scrutinizing gaze, I would’ve felt insecure and at least would’ve tried to cover my exposure, but Rick’s gaze was one of genuine adoration and affection. His eyes traced around my curves, coming back up to mine with a look of amazement before a light shake of his head broke him from his reverie. He quickly removed his lab coat and shirt, tossing them aside to give me my first real view of his ‘new and improved’ body. It was my turn to drink him in astonishment, following the lean muscles and scars covering his arms and chest. As my eyes traversed his body, I wanted nothing more than to sit up and pepper kisses on the exposed skin, yet as I started to move he gently pressed his hand to my chest again forcing me back down on the bed.

“Not yet.”

He slid my shorts down, leaving me with only my panties as he returned to my mouth. Feeling his skin against mine would have been enough to drive me wild but he shoved his hand between my thighs, gently rubbing my throbbing mound with only my panties serving as a barrier as my hips bucked against him, yearning for more. He chuckled as he watched me fall apart underneath him so easily and quickened his circular assault.

“Rick, please,” I whimpered, the words barely even audible. He relented, slipping his hand beneath my panties and taking my swollen clit between his fingers gently before moving his hand up and down at the most torturously slow speed imaginable. I groaned again but before I could truly speak he kissed me again, massaging his tongue into mine. His hand was picking up speed, my back arching as I neared my release. “RICK!” I cried when it finally crashed around me and he looked down at me in surprise, a small grin tickling his cheeks.

“B-Been awhile, huh?” he asked, his voice husky. I nodded shamefully, unable to fully form words in my catatonic blissful state. “It would be a shame to waste it, w-would you mind if I cleaned up the mess you made for my hand?” A distant feeling of confusion flooded my head as I looked down to see the alleged mess, only to find nothing. Still, I nodded slowly, a whole new feeling of pleasure coursing through me as he started lapping up my orgasm. He was agonizingly gentle around my electrified clit, swirling his tongue around my folds to make sure he got every last drop that I’d left for him. He moved down to my opening, humming against it softly.

“You’re such a good girl.” Chills shot down my spine again as I brought my hips up, forcing his face back into me. “That’s my good girl, show me how you want me to eat your pussy baby.” He lifted my legs over his shoulders, allowing me the proper leverage to grind his face into me haphazardly. He tapped my thigh gently, signaling me to stop.

“Here, let me show you how I want to eat your pussy,” he grinned, clearly amused by my eager albeit inexperienced ass. Sitting up, he pulled my lower half up with him, leaving my head the only part of me touching the bed as his tongue fucked me. His hands were busy holding us up so it was up to me to stimulate my clit in front of him. He gently rested me back on the bed at the sight, deciding it wasn’t a worthwhile position if he couldn’t be the one doing all the work. He forced my hand away, taking up its position with his tongue as he slid a finger within, gently massaging the tender ball of nerves that could send me over the edge again.

“Oh, fuck Rick!” I exclaimed, my hands on the back of his head as he slipped another finger inside of me.

“Say my fucking name baby. Tell me who makes you fucking come,” he hummed into my clit, sending a pleasure shockwave through my entire body.

“Ung, you do Rick!” I cried out in ecstasy as pleasure rocketed through my entire system. He didn’t stop, continuing to circle my clit and finger fucking me until my entire body had stopped shuddering.

“You’re amazing,” I purred when I regained the ability to speak. The words still came out slurred and I sat up, my knees no better than noodles as I climbed off of the bed.

“Wh-Where are you going?” he asked, nervously watching me stumble around his bedroom. I smiled devilishly at him, slinking down in front of him to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants. His cock sprung free from within and I bit my lip at the sight, trying to resist the carnal urge to sink down on it instead. I swallowed it eagerly, earning me an elongated groan as his legs twitched. I used one hand to engulf him completely as I slid him in and out of my mouth, using the other to cup his balls in my hand, massaging them softly. I spared an innocent glance up at him, ensuring he could get a nice long view of his cock in my mouth. His eyes rolled back at the sight, grabbing my hair and pushing me back down on his cock until I gagged. He let me up for air, marveling at the sight of my chin dripping with spit before pushing my head back down again, this time adopting a steady rhythm for my head bob to.

“Jesus fucking christ Nova,” he rasped, his lower half twitching more and more. “I can’t fucking take it,” he hissed, releasing my head to pull me up into his lap. I brought my mouth to his again as I perched myself over him, sinking slowly onto his cock, the leftover saliva allowing it to easily slide right in. I indulged in the feeling of how genuinely full I felt before bracing myself on his shoulders, slowly moving up and down until I found the right rhythm.

“Holy fuck,” I swore as he fell into my rhythm, pounding into me hard enough to make my knees weak. “Fuck me Rick, jesus fucking christ, just fuck me,” I told him, resting back onto my knees to allow him better access.

“Jesus, Nova,” he murmured, pulling me closer to him, “Your pussy is fucking amazing.” In one deft movement, he scooped me up and rested me on my back, hovering above me as sweat dripped from his brow at the sheer effort he was exerting. I wrapped my arms around my legs, pulling them into my chest. This only quickened his pace as he grunted on top of me, dipping down to kiss me and bite my lip as he pulled away. I let out a guttural moan at the sensation and Rick’s eyes lit up at the sound. He pressed firmly albeit gently into the sides of my throat and I let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Somehow his pace quickened even more as he buried himself in me again and again as I begged for more from beneath him. He released my throat, gripping my breast in his hand as he continued pumping harder and harder. His other hand found its way around to my clit, swirling around it much faster than before.

“Come with me baby, I want to feel come on cock,” he begged gruffly as his hand rubbed around my clit frenetically. My arms unwittingly released my legs as my third orgasm ripped through my body and I could only dig my nails into him, crying out his name. He continued slamming into me, though he had lost all rhythm as it became a primal assault until finally, I felt his release within me, shooting hot come into me with a long animalistic growl. He rode out his own orgasm, and as his pace slowed, he pressed his forehead to mine with a tired smile.

He grabbed his shirt, pushing it against me to trap most of his seed inside of me. I stood up awkwardly, trying to ignore the continuous waves of pleasure still coursing through me as I cleaned myself up. He flopped back onto his bed, watching me carefully as I pulled my shirt and panties back on as I searched for my shorts.

“You’re not leaving are you?” he asked, confusion breaking through the lazy grin he had been watching me with.

“Well, if Beth doesn’t find me on the couch in the morning, she’s going to freak the fuck out,” I reminded him, reclaiming my shorts and pulling them on as well. “You’re more than welcome to join me in the living room though. Never thought I’d say it, but I’m willing to bet that couch is more comfortable than that cot you sleep on,” I smirked. He groaned as he pulled himself off the cot and me into another deep kiss. I could’ve lost myself in the moment, the smell of his sweat mixing with the smell of my own and I was sure if anyone walked into the room in the next few weeks, they would know immediately what had happened here. Whatever small buzz I had going in had all but evaporated, leaving me with a slight hobble as we crept back out into the living room.

“Not going to lie, that’s really fucking hot to watch,” he murmured in my ear, grabbing my waist to pull me back into a rough kiss against the hallway wall. My eyes bulged as panic coursed through me, immediately imagining Summer or Beth strolling out here for a midnight snack only to find me making out with Rick, but as his hands snaked their way back under my shorts, I ultimately decided I didn’t care. Hell, he could just erase their memory like he’d done for Morty.

“Let’s go to the couch at least,” I murmured, quelling my lingering nerves. He picked me up, instructing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He continued his kiss as he carried me to the couch, pouring me out onto it. “Already ready for round two?” I teased when his mouth left mine, venturing further down to my neck.

“I just can’t stop touching you,” he murmured, “I don’t think I could ever get tired of the way you feel.” He trailed down my clavicle, using his nose to trace along the bone. I shuddered beneath him, but ultimately, and against the ache in my shorts, I pulled away.

“I don’t think I could do a round two right now,” I admitted, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Baby, I’m not even trying to fuck you right now,” he mused, tracing a small pattern on my thigh as he looked up at me, “I have to ask though, seeing as you started all this, what was the metaphorical straw that broke the even more metaphorical camel’s back?”

I was quiet for a moment, allowing him to go back sprinkling kisses all over my torso, whimpering at every light nibble. Ever since I kissed him on his ship, hell ever since I used him as a buffer to distract Faux Rick I’d wanted this. It had been the all too frequent subject of my dreams ever since he’d returned, no matter how angry or frustrated I’d been with him and it only amplified when I started sleeping ten feet away from him. “I guess the only thing that changed was tonight, I bypassed my reservations,” I murmured.

“You didn’t need to have any reservations when it comes to me, baby girl. Any time of the day you find yourself needing a release, you let me know.”

“I’ll have to bear that in mind.”

*+*

When I awoke the following morning, Rick was passed out on the floor next to me, his hand only inches away from mine where it had slipped from my grasp. Despite the cliche, it almost felt like a whole different world. The sun shined brighter, smiles came easier, and even the sight of Ryan at the front door in another sad attempt to beg me to come home seemed less daunting. I couldn’t help but grin to myself at a joke only one other person in the entire world knew the punchline to. Rick even seemed to regard his family in a more friendly manner, not snapping at Jerry as he yelled at about some other minor infraction.

Rick dragged Morty and me out on another off-world adventure at the sight of Ryan, not ready to let him burst the small bubble we found ourselves in. It was an in and out trip, Rick only stopping off for some small but necessary part for his new portal gun. He had dismantled Leader Morty’s gun, the exact mechanics of it alluding him, much to his ire. According to him, there’s no way it should even be functional, let alone not tearing us to shreds every time we stepped through it.

“What if he’s tracking it?” Morty asked nervously as he eyed the device. Rick had filled him in on the details of the encounter with Leader Morty, editing it in places to fit in with the concurrent story of Morty having stayed home because he didn’t feel like going. It did, however, leave Morty pretty confused when a frustrated Jerry yelled at him for not attending the very important sex talk he had planned.

“Not sure what good that would do him,” Rick grumbled as we stepped through one of its portals, looking over it intently, “He already knows what dimension I’m in.” He returned to his workbench, shooing us out as he returned to investigate it. I conceded, heading out to the living room where I plopped down on the couch next to Beth to watch whatever Hallmark movie she had stumbled across to fill her afternoon. Several empty wine bottles littered the floor and at my arrival, she cracked open a new one insisting I needed to catch up.

“Oh Nova, here,” she offered the soft blanket she was using to cover her lap as she refilled her wine glass and offered it to me. “This movie is so sad,” she lamented as I finished off the glass, handing it back to her only to earn a free refill, “So this guy left her because she was so much younger than him because he wasn’t comfortable with the feelings he had for her. So he comes back, years later after traveling the world only to find out she’s his next-door neighbor.” My head spinning as I finished off another glass.

“That does sound good,” I murmured, handing the glass back to her as I tried to ignore the distinct parallels.

“Oh, that’s her asshole husband,” Beth slurred, pointing angrily at the TV, “He treats her like garbage and her old paramour tries to convince her to run away with him instead.”

“Does she?” I asked hollowly, watching the events she was describing unfold on the TV.

“I can’t remember honestly- Wait! She does leave her husband, it infuriates him though and he almost kills her until she rises up, and kills him herself,” Beth told me swaying back and forth as she handed me another glass of wine.

“Holy shit.” I finished the next glass, unable to stomach watching such a blatant metaphor for my life. I thanked her and stumbled back into the garage. Jesus christ, what kind of wine has Beth been buying? I braced myself against the wall, calling out desperately for Rick. My head was spinning as I finally crumpled against the wall, sliding down against the garage door as I tried to beat on to get Rick’s attention.

“Holy shit, what the fuck Nova?” he exclaimed as he opened the door. His face swirled around me, morphing into every kind of animal imaginable. “Wh-What happened, are you okay?” he asked urgently, trying to assess the situation.

“I-I think there’s some-something wrong with Beth’s w-wine.” I slurred, my eyes trying desperately to close.

“C-Come on Nova, stay with me,” Rick urged, shaking my shoulders gently before opting to just throw me over his shoulder to lay me out at his workbench. “T-Talk to me, baby.” His voice had lost its clinical urgency, replaced instead by confusion and fear.

“I-I didn’t d-drink that much,” I muttered, my eyes closing despite my best attempts to force them open. “Th-Three gl-glasses at most?” He spoke more but it all sounded like radio static as the world around me faded to black.

+Rick+

Watching her fade in and out was the most gutwrenching fucking feeling I had ever experienced. She stared into my eyes, full of trust and fear as she slid in and out of consciousness. I grabbed a syringe, drawing blood for a toxicology report. I shoved the sample into my machine, cursing it for taking so goddamn long.

“R-Rick?” Morty called from behind me, panic seeping into his voice as he rushed to Nova’s side, “Wh-What happened? Is she okay?”

“A-Apparently she drank some of your mom’s wine and it did… this,” I gestured wildly to her limp form, “D-Do me a favor and go check on your mom okay?” I ordered, reaching for my flask to steady my nerves before thinking better of it. If this had something to do with alcohol consumption, then I couldn’t be taking any chances. Morty dashed back into the house, leaving me to swear at my machine as I continued to wait for the results to print. As Morty opened the garage door, the machine dinged and a long list started printing at a snail's pace.

“Mom’s fine, she’s just drunk as shit and crying over some stupid movie,” he told me as I ripped the print out off, reading it quickly.

Nothing abnormal.

What the fuck is going on?

I read over the print out again, looking for anything that could possibly be the cause of Nova blubbering on my workbench but nothing immediately popped out at me. Sounds of gagging broke me from my studies. To my horror, Nova had begun gasping for air, suffocating on her vomit. I rolled her over on her side, the regurgitated wine pouring out of her mouth in the most graceless way. I dug my fingers into her mouth, doing my best to clear her airway as she began gagging again. She vomited spectacularly, spraying my pants and the floor. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself against mimicking her.

“Morty, go get a bucket or something,” I ordered as she continued to produce more and more bile. He hurried back into the house, reappearing at the doorway with a large mixing bowl, damp washcloth and a green tint to his face. “Just go Morty.” I barked, sending him away with a sharp finger at the house. I folded the washcloth on her forehead, much to her satisfaction it seemed as she mewled softly underneath it. “It’s okay baby, I’ll figure out whatever is going on, I promise you,” I assured her softly, scooping up some of the vomit to test its toxicology.

“R-Rick,” she murmured weakly. At least she was talking again, maybe whatever caused this was finally out of her system? “R-Rick, I-I’m s-sorry,” she slurred, rolling back onto her back and clumsily adjusted the washcloth. It unfolded as soon as she picked it up and she pulled it over her entire face, shivering in relief at the feeling.

“Nova, what on Earth could you possibly be sorry for?” I chuckled in disbelief.

“I-I didn’t mean to th-throw up on you,” she slurred, holding her stomach as she rolled around on the table. “I-Is B-Beth okay? Sh-She s-seemed alright, she was just w-wine d-drunk already.”

“Morty said she was just drunk-crying on the couch about some movie.”

“Th-That m-movie was w-weird Rick.” She tried sitting up, making it to her elbows only to groan and lay back again. “I-It was like it w-was about us, Rick.”

“Wh-What do you mean it was a-about u-us?” I stammered, my eyes wide at the implications.

“I-I mean, it was al-almost our…whatever this is to a f-fucking T.”

“W-We’ll worry about that later,” I told her dismissively, “I just want to get you better first.” The machine dinged again, printing out at that goddamn snail’s pace until I could finally rip the print out off.

Altherium? Drathatine? What the fuck?

“Rick?!” Morty called anxiously, doing his best to carry his mother into the garage as she sprayed the garage with vomit. “Something’s wrong with Mom!”

“Shit, okay, put her in my chair, I think I know how to fix this,” I ordered. Morty wrestled her into the chair, grabbing the mixing bowl from Nova and shoving it Beth’s hands. I pulled out my computer, typing into it furiously as I desperately searched for anything that could counteract the effects of the poison in Nova’s stomach. I ran a test on Beth’s vomit as well, only to come up with the same results. “M-Morty, go find me every bottle of wine that your mom has finished off today.”

“L-Let me help,” Nova pleaded, finally in a sitting position as she tried to slide off the workbench, “I-I know which one it was, I can h-help, l-let me help.” I sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her about it. Morty took his aunt around his shoulders, offering support as she stumbled back into the house. In their absence, I finally found the antidote, two parts garathyme, and one part emardium. I mixed it quickly, pouring it down Beth’s gullet. She gagged against the wretched taste but almost instantly straightened up, looking around the garage in confusion.

“D-Dad, what happened?” she demanded, horrified by the vomit now decorating the room.

“Y-You and Nova were poisoned,” I informed her. Nova finally returned with the empty bottle, offering it out to me weakly. “Sweetheart, this is going to taste terrible but I need you to drink this,” I told her as I handed her the remaining antidote in exchange for the bottle. She grimaced, but downed it quickly, slamming the cup down on the counter like it had been a shot of tequila when she finished. “Beth, sweetie, where did you get this bottle?” I asked apprehensively, already pretty certain of her answer.

“I-I found it in the kitchen tucked behind a box of Eyeholes,” she told me as she eyed it nervously.

“Y-You don’t remember buying it?” I pressed, watching Nova out of the corner of my eye as she started straightening up and color returned to her face.

“N-No, I thought maybe Jerry had bought it or something. I-It was just a bottle of wine, I didn’t think too much of it,” she revealed. My eyes met Nova’s for a brief second before returning to Beth.

“Beth, sweetie, are there any more bottles of surprise liquor out in the kitchen?” She shook her head slowly, her eyes flicking between Nova and I as they filled with tears.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” she asked tearfully.

“N-No sweetie, just do me a favor, if you find any more surprises in the kitchen, bring them to me first okay?” She nodded fervently before turning to Nova and offering an unending supply of apologies. “N-Nova, could you take Beth to the bathroom, get the two of you cleaned up a little bit?” She smiled and nodded at me, leading Beth out of the garage.

Man, I’m just the fucking best.

+Nova+

“Oh Nova, I’m so sorry,” Beth sobbed as I carried her into the bathroom. I helped her out of her clothes and into the shower where she continued to wail desperately.

“Beth, sweetie, I promise you, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I tried to console her.

“I should’ve known Jerry didn’t have an ounce of romanticism in him.”

“I-I wouldn’t say that,” I told her from the bathroom sink. I was doing my best to get the vomit out of my hair as she continued her rant.

“He’s never going to get a fucking job. I don’t know why I keep putting up with him, I tell myself it’s for the kids but Summer and Morty don’t respect him in the slightest. They both think he’s a fucking moron, and I mean, honestly, they’re absolutely correct,” she rambled furiously. The wine she’d had before the death bottle was still in full effect. The water shut off abruptly and the curtain ripped open. I grabbed her a towel, not bothering to cover my eyes from a sight I’d seen a thousand times before. “N-Nova, get in the shower,” she demanded, refusing the towel and grabbing my arm. “You’ve got vomit all over the back of your head.”

“N-No, it’s okay Beth, I promise I’ll get in la-”

“It’s not like it’s the first time we’ve showered together Nova,” she asserted flatly as she pulled my tank top off, tossing it to the floor. I conceded, not exactly interested in an angry naked Beth coming after me. I slid my shorts off, climbing in with her as she turned the water back on. I let her clean the vomit out of my hair, even taking care to also shampoo and condition as I stood awkwardly in front of her. When she reached for the soap however, I drew the line, shutting the water off quickly. I pulled the curtain open, climbing out to grab a towel for each of us. Realizing we had no clean clothes, I volunteered to venture into the house to acquire some.

However, I wasn’t expecting to find Rick leaned up against the wall waiting for me and his eyes bulged at the sight of me.

“Wh-What are you guys- W-Wait, is B-Beth in there?” he demanded.

“Beth wanted to make sure I got cleaned up,” I told him, a note of irritation evident in my tone. “We used to shower together all the time when she was in veterinary school.”

“Wh-Why?!”

“Saves water?” I shrugged, walking down the hall to the laundry room to dig through clothes. “We weren’t exactly interested in making bills any higher than they had to be.”

“God Nova, that’s just… that’s so weird,” he shuddered. I grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Beth before heading to Jerry’s office to find clothes of my own. Rick followed behind, trying to make sense of the very close relationship his daughter and I shared. “S-So, you guys just get n-n-naked together, just like, casually? Like its no big deal?”

“Yeah, because it is no big deal,” I told him, rolling my eyes. “It’s never been sexual, like ever. Maybe get over your bodily hang-ups old man.”

“I don’t have bodily hang-ups!” he called after me as I re-entered the bathroom.

Beth and I dressed quickly and rinsed our mouths out with mouthwash. I was unsurprised to find Rick gone by the time we left the bathroom. I laid Beth down in her bed, tucking her in with a kiss on her forehead as she drifted off to sleep. I left her wastebasket next to her bed, hoping she wouldn’t need it before softly closing the door behind me. My stomach was still queasy from the poisoned wine, but I still marched myself back to Rick’s office to start the clean-up on his garage. Much to my surprise, as I opened the door a blue man was sweeping the last bit of vomit off the floor and right after he dropped it into the garbage can he completely evaporated from existence.

“What in the actual fuck was that?” I asked, utterly flabbergasted.

“Oh, that was a Mr. Meeseeks,” Rick told me dismissively, reading a long print out. “It looks like that wine was a parting gift from that evil Morty turd. The altherium would’ve dissolved if it had been in there for longer than a week.”

“But why would he want to poison Beth?”

“I-I don’t know Nova,” he answered, frustration apparent as he wouldn’t even look at me.

Realizing the true source of his frustration, I wormed up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I peppered small kisses all over his back until he relented and turned around to face me. “You know, there’s nothing to worry about, right Rick? I’m yours, you-you know that right?” I asked soothingly. He didn’t answer, meeting my lips softly, his kiss deepening as his hands quickly found their way back under my shorts.

“I love you, Nova,” he told me, breaking away for a moment to stare down at me, only love in his eyes. “I n-never thought I would feel this way a-about anyone, but it just comes so easily when I’m with you. I-I-I’m not good with talking about my feelings, b-but-”

“I love you too, Rick Sanchez,” I assured him, smiling up at him before meeting his lips again. He picked me up easily, resting me on the counter. I melted into him instantly, allowing my arms to drape lazily over his shoulders as he pulled me in closer, deepening his kiss even further.

There are times when everything could seem so impossibly perfect and yet you’ve still managed to fuck them up, by truly no fault of your own. It had been hot all day, coupled with the smell of vomit permeating through the garage, so it wasn’t too far out of the realm of expectation for the garage shudder to be open. In fact, it hadn’t even registered on my radar, most of the time I spent in here was with it opened. But with our secretive albeit far more open affection for one another still new to us, I hadn’t even thought about anyone who might possibly walk by and find me making out with Rick.

“(Y/N)? What in the fuck are you doing?”

Fucking Ryan.

+Ch10: Nothing Follows, Nothing Stays+

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

36 notes · View notes