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thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years

Text

The Whore || John Shelby x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: “11&19 with John boy? cause I miss him “ (I miss him too, my poor heart aches)

Summary: n.11 & 19 from prompt list: “Please, please, please” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down” Warnings: swearing, a lot of angst, prostitution, nudity, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, misogynistic talk, graphic description of signs of physical abuse

Author’s notes:

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

So, this request’s been in my mind for ages, and even though I’m not happy with its final part ‘cause it sucks, I’m literally obsessed with this idea, I love it so much that I’ll probably write a long fic about it, right after Contagio, but it will depend on you babes, because, first and froemost, I need to know what you think about this piece. ⤟ IMPORTANT

Please, if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, talk to someone who can help you, nobody should go through something like that alone.⤟ IMPORTANT

I edited the gif and added the text, it’s not an actual scene from the show, but I thought it could be a good idea, a small detail that could be added to my works. What do you think about it? Pls, let me hear your opinions babeees ⤟

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham was somehow silent that night, John noticed the unusually empty streets around him, as his feisty pace easily led him towards a well-known destination, his confident steps resounding in between the damp walls of those sordid blocks made of innumerable overcrowded flats. The unmistakable stench of stagnant urine viciously permeated his nostrils, soon causing a disgusted expression to taint his angelic face, while he avidly took the umpteenth drag of smoke from his Cuban cigar and finally stopped his unceasing walk in front of the most renowned brothel in the entire city. For about three years by then, day after day, his life had been perilously circling the drain: things had got totally out of hand, fate had pitilessly thrown him into profound despair, giving life to an apparently endless spiral of darkness and desolation, which was gradually corroding his fragile self, brutally strangling him, rapaciously plundering each of his already strained vital breaths. And, nevertheless, it was beyond hard to blame him for such catastrophic outcomes, after all, he’d scarcely survived the battlefield, only to find himself with a handful of nothing, left alone to deal with a dead wife and four children to raise on his own, while his guts crawled with excruciating grief and ravenous acrimony for the whole world, having him develop a tendency to self-destruction that was just as concerning as it was well concealed. As a matter of fact, in spite of his private hell, he still remained a Shelby, and a Shelby wasn’t meant to be soft, nor weak, none of them could afford to succumb to their affliction, never, not for a moment. They had to be invulnerable.

Or, at least, they had to look invulnerable, for truth was that John was scared, utterly frightened by all those unmerciful changes. Deep inside he felt like a hopeless, undefended child, forsaken by God and discarded to wander that grim world without any destination other than death and misery, thus his blood boiled with virulence and venom, having his heart clench with blind wrath and his devastated young soul desperately long for sort of any distorted kind of unattached affection. That was basically the main reason why his bed was incessantly warm, or more accurately, warmer than it had always been before, because, needless to say, John Shelby had actually been an authentic ladies’ man since his first cry. His stunning beauty constantly teemed on everyone’s lips in Birmingham, there was not a single woman in the whole town who hadn’t dreamt of sleeping with him at least once in her life. Therefore, John was more than happy to please them all, literally, welcoming them with wide open arms, even during his past marriage; and, on those rare times when no girl went to knock on his door, he had now grown accustomed to seek relief into whorehouses, rather than sleep alone and become an easy prey for his ferocious demons.

So he eventually ended up dropping his smouldering cigar on the uneven asphalt of the most rundown place in Small Heath, “Le Belle Donne”, an Italian house of tolerance, quite dilapidated and about to fall to pieces, but which often happened to have his favourite prostitutes. Indeed, ever since the Peaky Blinders had defeated and subjugated Sabini’s clan, they’d occupied a prominent position among the country, to the point that several other Italian gangs on their territory, including the Changrettas who owned that brothel in particular, had finally given in to the Shelbys. As a direct consequence, to put it simply, John and all his brothers had, in a very real sense, earned the full right to abuse of whatever business the wops held.

“Hey, man!” Johnny resonantly barked as he entered the hall, maintaining a pretty intimidating attitude and a menacing look on purpose, in order to strike even greater fear in his newest flunky. “C’mon, show me what you got” That rough order cunningly glided onto his lower lip, immediately followed by his hot tongue, while his famished gaze travelled around the room, examining the face of each harlot standing there with meticulous attention, without however finding something that could come anywhere close to seriously rapture him. Robert Turrini, the whoremaster, was a bizarre bloke, for his physical appearance could be probably described as both disturbing and amusing: his revortingly corpulent stomach wobbled and his short legs dangerously stumbled, when he made haste to stand up and accommodate his toughest client. “Mr. Shelby, what an honour and a pleasure to have you back!” Those sycophant words fled his moist and malodorous mouth, and nonetheless, his stubby fingers inexorably betrayed his true thoughts, since they were either nervously torturing each other or, as only alternative, convulsively running through his greasy, mangy bangs. “Please, sir, follow me, these are for yokels and boozers, nothing to do with gentlemen like yourself” Once again, Turrini’s shrill fawning tone relentlessly grated his ears, making clear reference to the bunch of second-rate whores who could be found at the entrance; thus the lame pimp quickly moved, his hand anxiously beckoning John to tread upon his heels, then headed towards an eerily narrow corridor, so scanty that it was almost impossible to cross, if not walking on the bias. The secret lounge was illuminated only in part by a squalid red light creating a gruesome atmosphere, a dull silence tyrannically reigned into that small space, although you were not alone, but practically glued to another girl; both sitting on a minuscle sofa, your elbows touching, still none of you dared emit a single sound. Everything felt like lead upon your papier-mâché ribcage, that horrible sensation forcing your traumatized brain to involuntarily keep counting the seconds until that heinous burden would’ve potentially staved in your sternum, definitively annihilating your splintered heart. As a result, when the ramshackle door opened and a high-pitched squeak scraped your skin, you really thought to be about to die. Your torturer made his entrance, and right after him, another man came in, yet you couldn’t spot his face, since the peak of his cap designedly casted a mysterious shadow on it. “These two right here, they're real young, real fresh” Robert flaunted his goods along with a nefarious grin, rubbing his soiled paws with evident greed. “Behold the finest offering of flesh and bone on the market” A sadistic snicker repugnantly accompanied his speech, instantly causing John to frown, visibly disgruntled with the way that man deliberately talked about human beings. Luckily, it was a known fact that the middle Shelby was used to treating his women with all due respect: whether he paid them or not, he always made sure they were comfortable with him and never shrank from giving them some good time as well; therefore, a vexed glare was shot in the direction of his gross interlocutor, before his crystalline eyes briefly fluttered around the place, then bumping into your elegant figure almost at once.

Your bloodstream seemed to benumb on the spot as the stranger’s confident stare entangled yours, his rawboned features being now fully displayed, for he had lifted his chin a little in order to properly look at you, and you only, despite Clarissa’s desperate and petulant attempts to get his attention with malicious smiles and ridiculous pet names. Even though your dazed mind had just been ruthlessly brutalized by the sudden, ablaze assault of his glacial irises, a few moments were enough for you to realize how profoundly different he was from all the low-down rats who usually came through that horrible place.

Each sharp, still somehow delicate, trait of his face was brimming with delicious youthfulness, a less keen eye might have even confounded his freshness with actual naivety, but not yours; you were far too clever to make such a coarse mistake. Furthermore, the midnight-blue posh fabric of the classy suit, remarkably folding his majestic body, left gaunt doubt that he was, in all likelihood, a considerably rich man, which was beyond disorientating you, since the price to pay for some tawdry delight in that brothel was outrageously derisory, to say the least. And ultimately, as much as it killed you to conceive it, he was without question one of the most enchanting men you had ever seen, to the point that you found yourself subconsciously wondering the possible reason why a heavenly creature of his kind would’ve needed to buy a miserable hour of dissembled love.

“There she is” That malleable murmur, filled with longing and gratification, furtively sidled past John’s roseate mouth, as its corners seductively bent upwards and his gaze persevered in its praiseworthy commitment to scrupulously linger your finest shape in sheer adoration. Lace and organdy sublimely merged on the light crimson negligee you were wearing, your immaculate form appeared as a beguiling paradox into his dilated pupils, being your long legs lecherously left exposed, while every inch of your porcelain skin, from your lean neck to your groin, was painstakingly disguised by that unholy material, dark and inscrutable, albeit thin enough to allow him to glimpse the inviting turgidity of your nipples. His breath shuddered in awe when he went back to contemplate your aphrodisiac facial features, flushed cheeks and plump lips having him ache with desire, and then your doe eyes flooded by melancholy, strangling his soul with no mercy, entrenching into his brains the treacherous conviction that, at the end of the day, he would’ve gladly dilapidated his fortune, if only to venerate you from afar. “Oi, sweetheart!” His low voice finally rumbled within the walls of that small space, overwhelmingly vibrating into your abdomen, while you forced yourself to swallow the painful lump obstructing your throat and stand up, promptly responding to his command, aware as you had become that rebelling against your pitiable destiny would’ve served no purpose at all. Holding your client’s hand behind your back, but keeping your head down during the whole route, you silently guided him up the spiral staircase to the best room in the house, like you had previously been instructed by your pimp. His jacket and hat were quickly hung on the apposite coat-rack, leaving his muscular top covered with just his white shirt and blue vest, an alluring grin was flashed in your direction and you detected a libidinous sparkle in his irises, as he healed the rift between you at a slow pace. “What should I call you, sweetheart?” He knowingly used the same flattering pet name once more, whispering that barely audible question into your ear, for he was now behind you: his large hands laid around your waist, gently making your back and his vigorous chest fit together, while his skilled mouth brushed forthwith against your nape, drawing an ardent contrail of ephemeral pecks up until your jaw. “Just y/n” You gasped in response, the marked contrast between his warmth and your bitter cold body, along with crippling dread eating you alive, caused your scrambled stomach to squirm and your eyelids to distressingly shut into a frown. “Well, that’s a pretty good one, I’m John, by the way” A lovely, yet hinted giggle fleetingly filled your ears together with that little compliment; there was no record of mockery in his tone, though, it simply sounded like he wanted to be nice to you, without any aspiration of personal gain, and you almost blushed, caught off guard and no longer used to any form of kindness. Nevertheless, it was a matter of instants before another wet, long kiss was pressed on your jawline, making you startle with evident apprehension and, at a later time, definitively back away from him, as soon as you sensed his touch abandoning your hips only to climb your sides, till he reached for your nightgown’s collar and his fingers began to fiddle with its round buttons. “No, I’ll do it!” You curtly gave notice, as you temporarily lost control of both your speech and actions, placing your hands above his in order to shrug them off, then turning to face him with short breath, your open palms shielding you. “I got it” A noticeably softer voice supplanted your preceding rudeness once you gradually metabolised how much damage your incautious reaction could’ve done.

“Aye, aye, darling, as you wish” But John just chuckled, tenderly humouring you, while his forearms jokingly lift in surrender to your commands, although, truth be told, your strange behaviour had left him a bit bewildered, well-nigh confused. Carefully moving backwards, he cockily made himself comfortable on the edge of the double bed, sitting right in front of you with splayed legs, his yearning stare never deflecting from you, and started to unbutton his waistcoat along with his shirt and undershirt, until his statuesque torso was completely nude, in all its glory, as the moon transpired through the curtains and shed its faint rays on his every contour, superbly enhancing all of his muscles.

Without reprieve, he ogled up at you in pure adoration, devastatingly astonished afresh by your dazzling beauty, eager to feel your afire flesh around his, literally hanging on your every word or move, while a provocative smirk steadily rippled his lips. Still, he kept questioning why a seraphic vision like you was slowly withering away in that authentic hell on heart, adamantly squandering your blush of youth amidst that rabble of unrestrained putridity. It made absolutely no sense, and he couldn’t get rid of that pernicious thought haunting his mind ever since he had first seen you: you looked nervous, extremely defensive, almost paralyzed with fear; you seemed so different from all the whores he’d had before, hence his instincts, however obfuscated with cupidity, were screaming that something was wrong. And when he watched you turn your back on him again, so to avoid his penetrating gaze as you reluctantly got undressed, it was enough for him to understand that his execrable hunch was right. Nevertheless, by the time his head managed to eventually reconnect to his mouth, it was already too late, the soft textile of your nightdress ineluctably fell to your feet, leaving you naked under his starving leer.

John choked on his own breath; for the very first time, he felt like a fledgling kid at his earliest experience, no matter if nothing could be further form the truth, in some turbid, cryptic way, you were able to make him vulnerable. His craw went hellishly dry while he continued to gape at you in awe, the sinuous curves of your flawless glutes, the meandering line of your superlatively arched back covered in part by your soft hair, your tensed shoulders and your refined legs, everything about you caused his mind to go entirely black, words stifling in his throat. Yet, as soon as you moved to face him and his sight was blessed with the full view of your voluptuous figure, something altered the light in his cerulean eyes, suddenly making it dark and gloomy. His jaw slightly dropped under the weight of that violent dismay: in conjunction, an obnoxious sense of nausea cruelly shot him in the gut and blind anger virulently assailed him, for your front bust was completely martyrized.

“What the hell...” That unmeant babble died in the gelid air, his shocked orbs demarcating the strokes of your damaged silhouette: your neck and collarbone were horridly plastered with several violet fingerprints, as if someone had mercilessly strangled you over and over, greenish bruises with the shape of full palms circled both your arms, there were conspicuous signs of ligature around your tiny wrists. Worse still, his eyelids had to squeeze a little in order to bring into focus the multiple oxblood dots stigmatizing your soft breasts, until he noticed in horror how those round specks were effectively cigarettes burns; all of the oxygen bluntly withdrew from his lungs, when he dwelled on the multiple blue and black marks barbarically desecrating the protuberances of your ribs. But what irremediably drove him over the edge were the two ghastly scars digging stretched grooves in your lower stomach, in parallel with your bulging pelvic bones and down almost to your livid groin.

Prey of that deleterious humiliation, you observed raw disgust contaminating his features and, with no apparent reason, the dormant hatred you had for yourself began to ferment inside your belly. “I-I’m sorry” you forced yourself to swallow your imminent tears, unexpectedly, the awareness of not being able to please him somehow inflicted more suffering on your mangled soul “If I’m not to your taste, y-you can...” The young man quickly stood up and, before you had the chance to finish your nonsensical sentence, he readily grabbed his shirt, approaching you with dispatch, his cold irises burning with an implausible mixture of fury and concern. “I don’t fucking care right now” His voice was unsteady, rolling down his tongue in fatigued panting, as his hands hastened to wrap his shirt around your shoulders, his trembling fingers struggling to put the buttons through the eyelets “Who did this to you?” In truth, he was talking to himself rather than with you, noticeable impatience worsening his mad tone, yet you persistently steered clear of his inquiring look, more than determined to keep your mouth shut, forasmuch as your dizzy head was already helplessly spinning, along with your heart rabidly hammering against your sore ribcage. You were having a hard time figuring out what was going on, everything around you was so confused, you didn’t even know whether to trust him or not, you only wanted to close your eyes and forget about that lucid nightmare. “I’m not asking you, for fuck’s sake! Tell me who it was!” That searing order tersely brought you back to reality and cleared how easily his rash temper could reemerge; indeed, all of a sudden, no trace was left of that kind, cheerful boy who earlier that night had succeeded in making you genuinely blush, on the contrary, when he cupped your cheeks and vehemently shook you, in a desperate effort to get your attention, his rough, authoritative command unbendingly hit you, and the sweet child within him ended up being thoroughly smothered by the scary, ruthless gangster that he truly was. That unforeseen contact had your feet automatically stagger backwards, your eyes fell to your tiptoes and your teeth started skewering your lower lip, while your exhausted brain resorted to its last ounce of strength, thereby obligating you to spit out a bit of your sorrow. “Three months ago, the man I once called father sold me to settle one of his debts with the Italians” Your thorax seemed to shrink to the point of absurdity once you became aware that it was essentially the first time you allowed yourself to say it all out loud. However, the presence of that compassionate stranger still represented for you a substantial barrier to surmount, leading your unquiet glance to franticly move from the grime on the floor, to the broken window on your left, anywhere, but never daring to meet his. “ I tried to run away, I swear I did, but they always caught me and-”

A large knot callously plugged the bottom of your palate, causing you to hesitate for a minute, gently rubbing your own arms, in attempt to comfort yourself . “Robert has a short fuse, he g-gets pretty brutal when you don’t cooperate” Those disenchanted considerations carried an involuntary grin, it was nothing more than a spasm, but hid the unmistakable sign of an imminent cry, and John’s attentive irises certainly did not let it go unnoticed, yet he chose to stay quiet, because the last thing he would’ve wanted in that crucial moment was to scare you even more. “He beat me to death, each time harder than the time before, and then he let those men-... He-e kept me tied to that bed for days to teach me a lesson” Copious tears were now unremittingly streaming down your flushed face, your heart aching with raw affliction, preventing you from breathing properly, one of your palms instinctively went to cover the space between your breasts, in a vain whirl to ease that excruciating grief. “Oh, God” John simply sighed, he was precariously theetering on the verge of tears as well, thick veins untamedly pumped in the proximity of his temples, till his solid shape ruinously keeled over the longest side of the bed, his elbows piercing his own thighs, as he hid behind his clenched fists and finally permitted himself to indulge a couple of muffled sobs. Innumerable atrocities had clouded his eyes and soul during his brief life, he himself was capable of unspeakable acts of cruelty, still, that was absolutely intolerable, hearing your story was taking a terrible toll on him. Try as he might, he couldn’t conceive how somebody could have been so hopelessly evil, to abuse in such a heinous way a defenseless creature as pure as you were. That thought was irretrievably disturbing him, rancorously eroding his bowels, almost depriving him of his sanity.

“U-until I stopped fighting them” Your last, indescribably anguished whisper struck the fatal blow, it unrelentingly plunged into his chest, sending an unbearable jolt of pain through his poisoned veins. For a brief instant, his expression, together with yours, harshly turned into a mask made of neat despair, as if your synapsis had been ravelled and both of you were enduring the exact same ache, at the exact same moment.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” Then, all at once, something apopletic inside him violently detonated, he berserkly stood up, roughly tripping over the beside table and everything placed on it. “Fucking kill that filthy bastard with my own two hands, bloody hell!” His hoarse yells made your bruised skin cringe and his furious steps covered the whole length of the room in the space of a scant minute; he was literally seething with murderous fits of rage, teeth grinding with irrepressible choler. “No!” your desperate voice erupted afresh and you hurried to reach for him, your hands unconsciously enveloping his cheekbones “Please, please, John, please, stop!” For the first time, his name slipped out of your aching throat in between those pathetic pleads, your wrists forced him to look at you, in attempt to dissuade him from his homicidal purposes; the mere thought of the potential disastrous consequences to his calamitous ire totally asphyxiated you, rampant panic assaulted your frail mind and, soon after, you found yourself hyperventilating and simultaneously rambling a bunch of incoherent words, your fingers gradually tightening their grip on him. “He’s gonna get so angry at me, he’s gonna- he-he’s...” “I’m a fucking Shelby, he does not draw a damn breath unless I say so” He firmly grabbed your chin with just two of his fingers, guiding your depleted pupils to entirely focus on his confident stare, and he growled that undisputable fact a span away from your nose. Petrified by that new awareness, you fell utterly silent, only gawking in his direction, while he put his undershirt back on with ease and rapidly grasped his cap. “Just stay here, do you hear me? Don’t move until I come back” An incandescent kiss was impulsively pressed to your forehead, no other words were spent, before he disappeared behind the door of your private hell. When your persecutor saw his special guest unyieldingly storming towards his desk with a truculent expression exuding fervent disappointment, he jumped on his feet, ready to find a solution to whatever problem had possibly arisen; one thing was sure, he never would’ve guessed what was about to happen. “Mr. Shelby, what’s wron-” John’s fist savagely collided with his jaw, nipping his cloying speech in the bud, without giving Turrini a second to process what was going on, another punch pitilessly smote him, and then another one, and then another, until hot, plenteous blood gushed from his multiple wounds. “You son of a bitch” Animalistic groans left his rabid maws, sheer hate rushing through his brains, as he violently tossed him to the ground, immediately beginning to kick his torso with all of his brute force. “Mercy! I beg of you, sir, have mercy!” His victim’s prayers and harrowing screams barely titillated his ears, everything he could think about was your tragically marred body, hence an unbridled desire to give him a taste of his own medicine completely took over. “Where was your mercy when you were torturing her?” Expertely holding his hat in the most efficient way, in a fury, John went down on his sacrificial lamb, promptly disfiguring just one side of his face, in order to take a quite theatrical pause from his wicked work.

“When she was imploring you to stop?” Robert was now crying out loud, overwhelmed by that merciless agony, reduced to just invoke the glacial scynt of death, since nothing in his entire miserable existence had ever caused him more intense pain, than the coarse perception of a finely sharpened razorblade brutishly lacerating his flesh once more, inch by inch.

“Now bend your ear to this” despite his wrenching laments, John rudely lift him up by seizing the blood stained collar of his jacket “if anyone else but me goes near her fucking room again, I’ll burn this fucking place down!” And with that first, deadly threat the pimp’s head was brutally slammed into the wall, an umpteenth whine of contrition escaping his mouth filled with blood, nevertheless, no time was left for redemption.

“You lay a finger on her again” his skull was doggedly crashed into the bricks once again, a crimson spatter smeared the pale plaster covering them “I will break your neck” John’s knuckles clasped, having his red right hand effectively strenghten its hold on his neck, nearly killing him on the spot. However, fortunately for the whoremaster, Johnny would’ve not put an end to his sufferings, nor he could've simply taken you away, deep inside, he knew he needed to discuss it with his family, first and foremost, with Thomas, for the unstable equilibrium reached by the Peaky Blinder was far too fragile to start a new war against the Italians. Thus, with great difficulty, he forced himself to keep his mind clear and put a lid on his beastly instinct. “From now on, no one of you dirty swines is allowed to even look at her” Throwing him to the floor, the middle Shelby delivered one last kick straight to his fat abdomen, and disrespectfully spit on him, marking with his salt slaver the end of his brutalized prey’s calvary. “By order of the Peaky Blinders” As soon as the crackling door snapped open, your heart seemed to explode, your eyelids bolted with pure fear, whilst you pulled your knees closer to your clavicles, an ancient prayer lingering your lips together with heavy breaths, as you prepared for the worst. But the worst never came. “Y/n, hey, calm down. It’s all right” John’s husky voice echoed in your ears, and, you could’ve sworn it, that was, without the slightest doubt, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your head abruptly tilted in his direction, an oxymoric mixture of fear and hope twinkling into your watery irises, deep pants still rocking your tiny self. “It’s me, it’s just me” Keeping his arms up to indicate his innocuous purpose, he carefully approached you. Almost immediately, you noticed the several scarlet handprints staining his pale top, eloquent sign that he had tried to wipe his palms on that ivory material as best as he could. Yet, you were so profoundly relieved to see his friendly face, that, to be honest, the sight of fresh blood didn’t upset you at all. It was like you had fallen into a fugue state, every single thing around you was so distant, your numb senses were only able to concentrate on John’s lean silhouette kneeling in front of you. “ No one will hurt you anymore, darling” his hands gently went to caress your thighs, while his worried gaze tirelessly sought yours and he spoke those soft, reassuring words “You need to trust me”. And you did want to put all of your faith in that young man. His delicate flair easily awakened you from that ostensible slumber, building a rousing fire inside your belly; without a thought about your unforeseen actions, you threw your arms around his strong neck, your knees producing a dry sound as they collided with the wooden pavement, still you didn’t care and you held him tight, letting out loud cries and drowning into his muscular chest, finally revelling in the feeling of that warm embrace. Soon, he entangled his callous fingers with your velvety locks, subconsciously narrowing his solid shoulders, as to shield your frangible figure from the outside world. “I'll get you out of here soon, I promise”

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wildfire317s-oc-box · 3 years

Text

Name: Nijiko Karasu

Species: Demon

Hair Color: Originally black with color shifting ends that go through the rainbow in the right light but after becoming a demon it turned white and shifted color all throughout

Hair Style: Very Long and is usually worn down even her bangs which tend to hang over her face

Eye Color: originally a dark purplish-blue but after becoming a demon they became very bright royal purple

Skin Color: undead pale

Age: 15

How long shes been a demon: 10 years by the end of season one

Nickname: Little Song Bird, Little Crow, Pale Phoenix (only called this by abusers or demon slayers), Niji (for short)

Fashion Sense: Her outfit is generally pretty basic with various shades of purple but she does have a brown belt and hip bag which she may or may not have snagged from one of the guys.

Height: 4'8

Sexuality: Bi leaning towards girls

Strength: as a human she was very weak, timid and suicidal, but after becoming a demon she grew bolder and braver and while still being somewhat self-sacrificial was less likely to let herself get killed on purpose. (When she was human her blood bordered on rare and average) physically shes a little weaker than kyogai was.

Her Story: Her life was very sad, Her mother died giving birth to her and she was born into a family of an abusive father and seven older sisters, all of whom hated her and forced her to do the most work and take the worst punishments. While her father forced all of her sisters to work and punished them as well he was harder on her for two reasons, one being she was supposed to be a boy and the other being that he believed she was solely responsible for her mothers death (pushing his blame onto her). Her sisters hated her because she was the kindest and prettiest out of all of them despite what she went through. Her father was one of the few people who bred and sold kasugai crows, even though she did most of the work and eventually all of the work after a while. Years passed and her father married off all of her sisters in exchange for money to feed his assorted addictions, and he re-married to a woman who was just as bad if not worse then he was meanwhile he found a young man (about 20) from a rich family to marry her off to however he was even lazier and more aggressive than her father but before she would be married off the young man wanted to make sure she would cater to his every beck and call.

She lived her 15 years of life constantly being taken advantage of, bullied, having the voice she prided herself on insulted and dealing with all kinds of ungrateful behavior. That is until one night after being beaten for not "finishing tilling and weeding the garden" even though she had, and then got her gardening shovel tossed into the woods and locked out of the house. Despite living with this behavior her whole life she knew it was not normal and as she walked into the woods to find her shovel bleeding slightly, she grumbled about her bad luck loud enough to draw the attention of a demon who lived in a small mansion not to far into the forest who upon finding her picked her up and carried her off back to the mansion. Eventually after being carried around the mansion she was set down as the one who had taken her argued her fate with two others who were living with him, instead of running however she patiently waited on the floor, only cutting in to asked them if there was anywhere she could wash herself off so she wouldn't be all gross covered in sweat and dirt and if they could hurry up their argument before anyone noticed she was gone. This request understandably shocked the three demons enough to pause their argument going completely silent mid-way through their respective sentences and turn to give her the "what the fuck" look in unison. When the one who's name she heard to be Kyogai asked her if she was going to try to escape her response was "hmm let me think, go back to my already horrible life and delay the inevitable or die like i have been wanting to for the last ten years? Yeah i think I'm going to stay" thus prompting the question "what the hell??" from all three, her response was "Well the way I see it if I do leave right now my life is going to go either one of three ways, one get beaten to death by either my ungrateful father or even less grateful future husband at some point in time like three of my sisters, get worked to death by either my father or my future husband like my mother and two of my sisters, or be married off for money in three years to someone who cant be bothered to even learn my name, survive maybe another fifty years of abuse and constant stress only to die of something stupid in my sixties and probably be left to rot in the garden like a rat after being defiled one last time either way, at-least if i die here i will die to people who are gentlemen in comparison and are at-least grateful to have me as a meal", causing all three of them to just stare at her before Kyogai informs her that the wash room is just down the hall and asking to speak with the other two alone.

As soon as she entered the wash room, the three went back to deciding her fate but now instead of figuring out who would eat her they were instead trying to figure out a way to keep her around without sending her home as they all agreed they would feel bad hurting her but even worse sending her back, at first thinking to keep her as a sort of pet but eventually coming up with the idea to get her turned into a demon. Upon going to knock on the wash room door to let her know what they decided; the largest one heard her siren like voice starting to sing "Itsumo nando demo/ Always with me" as she washed herself and went to get the others to come listen saying "you two have to hear this" and they quickly found themselves listening to her through the door until song was over. Once she was out, she first received the first genuine complements about her voice and in general she had received in her life and then was told that she was not going to die but she was not going to be sent home either and that instead they were going to keep her and see if she could become like them. After reading Kyogai's mind for about a week and deciding to see what the big deal was, Muzan payed them a visit and after watching her for a while he turned her into a demon after she had fallen asleep. The next time she woke up she found her hair had turned white, her eyes had turned bright purple, her teeth and nails had become sharp and pointed, she had sprouted a pair of white wings on her back and small patches of small white downy feathers over her body. This both surprised and relieved her three housemates when they found her as she attempted to flutter around the room she had been sleeping in.

As a demon she stalked the night hunting down anyone in the nearby towns who dared to abuse their spouses/future spouses or children in any way. Years into the future she was the only in the mansion left alive because she had been sleeping quietly in the only room that was left unchecked. She found her roommates remains and put on their clothing as a way to keep them with her. When Tsuki came looking visit with them not long after they died while on her way to visit the spider family, Nijiko was the only one tsuki found and had to be the one to explain what happened, not long afterwards she was picked up by Usagi-sama and taken to live in the mountain. She developed the ability to mimic peoples voices and various other noises as well as self harmonize at a young age since she spent so much time with the crows. She tends to avoid the kamaboko squad with the exception of nezuko, the few times they do visit the mountain, but if they do cross her path the most they will get out of her is a glare and an annoyed huff, which confused them until they noticed just who's clothes she was wearing, so if they ever want to say anything to her or she wants to say anything to them (she usually doesn't start a conversation) either Tsuki or one of the crows will have to act as the messenger between them.

When she was younger she would occasionally hear songs and shows from other countries from people who had been traveling to different places around the world, and even after she became a demon she would occasionally go into the towns and hear new ones that she would come home singing. The Kasugai Crows that she raised all have a habit of referring to her as their mother though the only one left is Giyuu's crow and she could tell the differences between all of them, funnily enough the parents of both Tanjiro and Inosuke's crows are part of this group as some of her last hatchlings. Most of the current Hashira's crows are the children of her little hatchlings with the exception of Giyuu's who was one of hers when she was a human and she is very proud if them. If she ever feels like it she can and will give herself a beak, but she usually doesn't. She is rather fond of kids, so had she gotten woken up that day when her roommates got killed; she would have been very nice to the younger siblings of the kid who got taken, helped them go look for him and she would have been very cross with the guys especially kyogai as he was the one who did the kidnapping and scolded them while shoo-ing the kids (tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke included) out of the house with a broom and then upon figuring out why what happened happened she would've comforted kyogai and reminded him that he doesn't need to prove himself to anyone and told them that dinner was on her once the sun set. Like she walks in on tanjiro and kyogai's fight just before the beheading dragging her other two roommates by the ear with one hand and dragging inosuke and zenitsu by the ear with the other with the kids following behind giggling and pulls a "if you two don't stop fighting right now I SWEAR" stopping the fight in its tracks because none of her roommates have ever heard her that mad before and the last time any of them heard that specific tone of voice was when their respective mothers were scolding someone and know that it is a tone to be feared, being like "Kyogai I need to have a word with you and these two privately" "But Niji -" "Don't you ""But Niji"" me" as she is just herding the humans out of the house. She and Kyogai are essentially the adults/parents of the house but she is most definitely the mom of the entire group. She occasionally perches on the shoulders of her more sturdy roommates like an actual crow. She definitely has crow brain and will bring home any random shiny or interesting objects she finds while she is out running around and occasionally "gift" whatever it is to her roommates. Since becoming a demon she has also learned to mimic voices she has heard atleast twice and has learned to throw her voice in unison with the siren song ability. She LOVES pranking people especially the kamaboko squad. She hates to admit it but she has grown rather fond of zenitsu specifically.

Abilities:

Blood demon art: siren song and siren song self harmonize: this allows her to use her voice as a sort of hypnosis but with self harmonize it sounds like there are multiple voices in a perfect harmony and makes the hypnosis stronger. (This would probably really freak zenitsu out) (since the deaths of her roommates the extra voices during self-harmonize sound like their voices so she feels like they are still there)

Blood demon art: dazzling dance: this speeds her up and distracts her opponent, its basically dance fighting but with the way her hair and feathers work, the light reflecting different colors off of them would distract her opponent.

Blood demon art: flying feathers: this allows her to summon her lost feathers as projectile weapons that will scratch her opponent enough to bleed

Blood demon art: fire flight: with this she flys up into the air sets herself on fire and aerial dives at her opponent as a sort of kamikaze attack.

Blood demon art: crow form: after a while of hanging out with asaki, kiki and tsubaki she learns this blood demon art which allows her to turn into a white crow with the same color refracting effect that her normal forms hair and feathers do

Could/Does get along with:

Canon: Haunted Mansion Trio, Spider fam, Kamanue, Mukago, Rokuro, Enmu, Gyutaro, Daki, Akaza, Nakime, Nezuko, Tamayo, Mitsuri, Rengoku, Zenitsu

O.C's: Tsuki, Asaki, Kimi, Kiki, Usagi, Maka, Mine, Kuroko, Tsubaki, Rin, Takara

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 years

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Winter 2020 Anime Overview: Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Ok, so let’s get this out of the way first, 1. I adore this story so much and 2. Toilet Bound Hanako-kun has a horrible, horrible English title that is not actually at all representative of the story’s content and I have no idea what happened when it came to the team choosing that name. To the average English-speaking viewer/reader, this name 100% implies gross stuff and bathroom humor, and there is none in this show.

A Japanese reader on the other hand, would be more likely to recognize the name Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun as a spin on the classic ghost story “Hanako-san of the Toilet” only A BOY THIS TIME WHHHHA?” Basically, the story goes that a girl named Hanako in a red skirt haunts girls’ bathrooms in Japanese schools and if you knock on the third stall and call “Hanako-san” three times, she’ll appear. She might grant you a wish or pull you into Hell or something else, it varies.

(Her Wikipedia image, aww.)

Anyway, I dunno why the English title didn’t at least go with “Toilet Ghost Hanako-kun” or something that would have gotten the premise across even a little better (HE NOT TECHNICALLY BOUND BY THE TOILET EVEN, HE CAN GO ANYWHERE IN THE SCHOOL GROUNDS THE BATHROOM IS JUST HIS HOME BASE), but our boy Hanako haunting the girl’s bathroom only leads to broad jokes about our heroine being tasked with cleaning the bathroom and “dude you really shouldn’t be in here” comments, it’s pretty incidental.

Now that THAT’S out of the way, let’s talk about my LOVE FOR THIS STORY

Hanako-kun tells the story of a “regular” high school girl named Nene Yashiro, the mischievous and mysterious school ghost she befriends, and all the other weird monsters, exorcists, spirits and curses they encounter. It’s got a gorgeous, colorful bold aesthetic and art style that combines gothic and cute! It has a great mix of humor, intrigue, angst and fantasy action. basically if you love ghosts, monsters, Japanese mythology and legends, supernatural-human relationships, supernaturally fueled angst and drama, stories about trying to fix an unfair system the world has set up, wistful romance, a good shoujo manga with a Lot of Feelings (yes this is a shonen technically I’ll explain that later), weirdo dorks becoming friends AND MUCH MORE...this story will have something that will resonate with you. It’s got a lot going on, and it’s a ton of fun.

Hanako-kun is really one of those surprising stories that fits right into a hole in my story-loving heart I didn’t realize was still there, or that I’d actually been carrying since childhood. I love ghosts, see, and have since I was a kid!!! I knew this, but I kinda forgot how intensely I love them until this show reminded me again??? That’s because regular ghost stories/mysteries/whatever- I like them, but they don’t quite do it for me in the way more character-driven ones exploring the nature of being a ghost and humans and ghosts trying understand each other etc do. Stuff that really gets into the tragedy AND the fun fantasy aspect of ghosts, and plays the long game with it- and Hanako-kun scratches that itch perfectly.

Getting a little bit deeper into the premise of Hanako-kun, Nene is a very brave and sweet but not-all-that-bright girl (or, to put it more bluntly, she’s an idiot in the best way) who has a lot of romantic fantasies and insecurities and is VERY focused on them. After hearing a rumor at school that “Hanako-san of the bathroom” will grant wishes, she wishes to be able to confess to her crush and finds out its actually a weird ghost boy her age named Hanako haunting the bathroom! A lot of things happen, and she ends up cursed and bound to Hanako-kun, but also ends up slowly forming a friendship.

Turns out Hanako is the ghost in charge of the “seven mysteries/wonders” aka seven powerful supernatural entities that haunt this school (he’s number seven). These apparitions only supposed to terrorize students a LITTLE, because apparitions need to have rumors spread about them to remain in the human world.

(‘HAVE YOU HEARD?’ Oh hey shadow girls from Utena see you’ve moved to a new school.)

The rumors also generally dictate how powerful and dangerous the apparitions actually are- but SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS is changing the rumors around the school and making the apparitions go berserk and actually harm humans. So Hanako needs a human assistant to change the rumors and help him calm and seal the apparitions! That’s where Nene comes in.

Hanako himself is a very fun character- he’s very chaotic and revels in his whole “ gremlin ghost” persona, and is upfront about being a bit of an asshole. BUT he also makes his kindness, often good intentions and the fact he’ll have his friends back when it counts obvious from the beginning. B U T! He’s also got darkness and hidden depths to explore, and a lot of his persona is affected and masks deeper issues!

Our ghost boy is genuinely A TAD unstable deep down (as in he straight up has several untreated PTSD symptoms and that’s as disastrous as you’d expect) and packing some serious tragic backstory, as you might expect from a kid who died young and carries around a butcher’s knife, and it’s gonna come back to bite him and and all who care about him hard.

Especially when an overly enthusiastic exorcist named Kou Minamoto shows up! Kou is another one who’s very dumb and very good, a wannabe-shonen-protag with a heart of gold and strong sensitive, domestic side. He rounds out our main trio. Also he gets a tragic, emotionally intense relationship with yet another ghost boy that sings to my heart.

(Yes Hanako’s helping Nene to do the thing)

You may be able to tell, this story has INTENSE good-shoujo vibes despite technically being a shonen in a way that I love- it’s story very driven by big emotions, a variety of fucked up and tragically complex relationships, teen hormones running wild, etc, and it’s just delicious.

Nene is the normal-person-audience-surrogate-girl in a way that is more common for a shoujo protag, and the way her emotional connections to everyone, her sweeping romantic fantasies and her interiority are consistently in focus when she’s there- yeah, she’s definitely a plucky shoujo protag, 100%. And I’m all about that!!!

One thing I especially appreciate (though this comes across more strongly in the manga than the anime thanks to the anime rearranging things) is when Nene finds out about Hanako’s Heavy Baggage, she actually takes some time to herself to consider whether she can handle dealing with someone with these intense issues as a kid who’s never encountered stuff like this before- it’s not assumed by the story that the Sweet Girl is Obligated to help the Tragic Boy. I go into more detail about this part in this part here, but it’s that kind of attention to Nene’s needs that makes her role in the story work. Hanako and Nene and everyone’s struggles to get the hang of and properly navigate honest communication and mutual support in relationships are often really great and real-feeling

The story has a lot more things I love packed in to it- a dorky-but-still-deeply-unsettling villain gang who’s screwed up interactions are just as fun as our protagonists, yokai, A CURSED LIBRARY, some great ladies in addition to Nene, meditations on the nature of life, death, themes about fighting nihilism, and so on...I could seriously go on forever. It’s good stuff, and there’s lots of good weird supernaturals to meet.

The story’s also got tons of intrigue! The overarching plot and Hanako’s Mysterious Past is still in the process of unfolding, but it’s been great drama every step of the way! As mentioned before, the story also really relies on funny character dynamics, interaction and development to carry the whole thing and balance the drama.

The anime itself does have some pacing issues bc they crammed a lot into the first season and rearranged some stuff- an entire two chapter arc was skipped and was unlikely to be covered in the anime and some parts are noticeably rushed. I still really like the anime and it’s a solid adaptation. I love how much of the manga’s detailed aesthetic it managed to keep as well as the amazing voice acting and it made a few small but important additions. But there are some notable bumps- of course this just led me to go binge the manga (up to volume 12 is legally available digitally) and BOY DO I NOW LOVE THIS STORY EVEN MORE.

Now obviously, just because it is Exactly My Shit in a lot of ways doesn’t mean Hanako-kun is the much quested for “unproblematic fave”, there’s several caveats you should probs be aware of- its shoujo vibes also mean some classic shoujo ~Problematic tropes~ and a couple shounen ones.

THE LIST:

-Just as a general content overview thing: if this wasn’t clear the show deals heavily with death, body horror and other horror aspects. There’s heavily implied suicide and abuse and so on- as mentioned, the main character is traumatized and shows a lot of symptoms of PTSD, and Nene has to struggle to navigate her relationship with him because of this, as does Kou.

-Hanako himself has the whole ~loveable pervert~ and ~slightly possessive shoujo bad boy~ schtick going as part of his mischevious persona. In the anime so far, he never actually gropes or comments on not-in-his-naughty-mags-people’s breasts or anything of that level thankfully, but he’s very flirty, clingy, will loudly bring up porn, fond of the ol’ *says something that purposefully sounds sexually possessive* HAHAHA U THOUGHT I MEANT SOMETHING DIRTY RIGHT LOL ACTUALLY I DIDN’T.”

(My unnecessary ‘this part is kinda interesting!’ ramble: Nene always lists “sexual harassment” among Hanako’s flaws (she loves listing them), but doesn’t get visibly uncomfortable with his flirtiness or seem to mind it most times, which at least makes the whole thing more tolerable for me.

(since she doesn’t seem to mind that part and its clear he does it bc of actual affection for her, it’s actually p. cute how huggy he is.)

The one time it does cross the line and genuinely upset her, it’s treated seriously, Hanako is genuinely regretful and apologizes. That’s one of my fave moments in the story and the way it’s handled is well done.

This incident that he’s honestly pretty socially clueless as kid who died young and a lot of his bravado is to cover that up and keep people at a distance- this is a trope into itself that can use unpacking but I do at least appreciate that this is a considered character trait that’s part of his whole messed up package rather than something that thrown in there Just to Be a Fanservice Trope. (Especially since the manga confirms he never acted particularly pervy while alive, further cementing this is an affected persona).

-There’s a running gag around Nene’s insecurity over her thick ‘daikon shaped’ ankles and boys treating her badly for it.

One one hand, her body image issues are relatable, on the other, it feels cruel and annoying just how much the show finds ways to bring it up and humiliate her over and over again.

(My unnecessary “this is part is kinda interesting” ramble:The one thing i did realize that despite bringing it up constantly, we at least have no “i’m going to do this to lose weight” or “go on a diet” rhetoric,like this is just part of Nene’s body type and she knows she can’t change it? Which is kinda interesting. And I’ve spotted what might be foreshadowing something plot relevant’s going to happen with her ankles (I DON’T KNOW HOW, BUT GOD I PUT NOTHING PAST THIS STORY) so uh yeah??? either way it’s not good tho)

-”Obsessive and twisted love” is a running theme in this story, and while it’s generally acknowledged as unhealthy, it can be played for comedy in a way that could make viewers/readers uncomfortable. There’s a couple characters who’s entire thing so far is “obsessively in love with this one person” (and the one only focused on in the manga so far is one of the least interesting characters tbh ugh)

-The antagonist of the show is a member of a main character’s family, and the manner he acts towards pretty much everyone, including (and really especially) his family member, verges on seductive. This is presented as deliberately unsettling and treated as a marker of how unstable and scary he is- and though the backstory between them hasn’t been fully delved into, it’s pretty much all but confirmed he abused this family member physically and emotionally.

-The story has like, A LOT of queer subtext and pretty-heavy queer coding for one character especially, but the few times queerness blatantly comes up in the story, it’s played as a joke in the “haha that’d be kinda weird” way (aside from the rando boys who have a crush on Teru, handled pretty neutrally). It’s not as malicious as a lot of animanga can get (ONE MANGA INCIDENT ASIDE), but it’s something to Be Aware Of, and it makes it clear we’re unlikely to see subtext rise to text and makes some moments feel baity.

-And probably more I might have missed! The manga also has Some Shit in addition all the Good Shit that hasn’t been adapted yet, an early arc has Hanako crossing a serious line etc.

BUT despite how messy it is, I think it’s clear I have a lot of love for this story. In fact, I wouldn’t trade away a good chunk of its messiness (DEFINITELY SOME JUST NOT ALL), it kinda works for the characters and works in the “this story really feed my inner teen” way. Some of the trashy parts are exactly My Trash, basically.

So, I knew I’d ramble on for a while when I talked about his show, but if you’ve read this far, thanks, and I hope that means you’re gonna check out and maybe enjoy this story, bc i need more people to join me in Hanako Hell.

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jibaku shonen hanako kun #winter 2020 anime #anime overview #hanako kun #nene yashiro #yashiro nene #kou minamoto #minamoto kou #yugi amane #amane yugi #my reviews

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angelicichor · 4 years

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Okay, here we go again, hope y’all ready.

Slashers dealing with their S/O having a mental break down pt.2 in which I’m a horrible person and Bubba baby I’m so sorry.

TW: self-degradation, mental trauma, mental break down, depression

Michael Myers (OG):

♦ The very moment the infamous Shape of Haddonfield had spared your life on that fateful Halloween night you knew that your existence would get a whole lot harder.

♦ You’ve read Doctor Loomis’ book, it created a clear image of this being before you in your head, this devil, who took people’s lives to satisfy some gross urge inside himself, some repressed emotions, some perversion, who knew.

♦ Yet as the man with the devil’s eyes moved into your house and you got to spend time with him, willingly or not, you learned there was more to him than the psychiatrist claimed. It was hard to tell what exactly you saw in him, it might’ve been pure Stockholm syndrome after being forced to stay indoors for a week just after meeting him, but you grew a bond with this murderer.

♦ It clearly wasn’t love, but rather adoration, maybe friendship, it was impossible to decide, really, somehow you doubted there was a title for what you two had, so you just decided to call it a voluntary hostage situation.

♦ It was stupid and Michael just sighed heavily through his mask when you’ve told him about the name, but it was SOMETHING.

♦ And you needed a lot of somethings to deal with him, with who he was and what hiding you at your place made you.

♦ You’ve suffered sleepless nights because of it, all too aware what was going on when Michael was gone, noticing all the missing knives, the axe from your shed, the rope, even the blade from your lawnmower. You’d stand up in the morning only to find his bloody coveralls on the top of your dark clothing, ready for washing, while he was walking around in your ex’s pants.

♦ But even though your mind told you of all the atrocities this man committed, you couldn’t pull away from him. Something keeping you in place and you feared it was the anxious awareness that if you betrayed him, he’d know, he’d find you and he’d end you in a heart beat.

♦ Each day your sane mind told you to call the police and get under witness protection, get away from this soulless monster, start anew and once you’re old and already satisfied with the life you’ve led, you can write a book about it and live the rest of your days in luxury from your sales.

♦ But it wasn’t that easy, because the twisted part of your self was attracted to this now familiar danger. His body, his touch and his voice, only sounding for you, dark and raspy, making you tremble whenever he called out your name.

♦ You craved his dark affection, his toxic touch and those piercing eyes gazing into you with a primal possessiveness to them. He had marked you his way too many times.

♦ And within the walls of the house you used to feel at home in you felt lost, starring into the pool of red beneath your feet, still shuddering from what happened, your gut clenching at the realization that it had been the second time, too.

♦ He killed someone in front of you.

♦ Yet this time you felt nothing, an empty, raging void sucking your heart in, as you zoned out of everything, not even able to think, an empty husk.

♦ There was some distant sensation, something dark pulling forward, a part of you tried to push it away, but it was weak and as you heard the floor boards behind you creak, it lost.

♦ “Michael… Can you… kill me?” you asked, voice devoid of emotion, cold and distant, lost, without purpose and sitting before a window you didn’t notice his reaction, the way his body stuttered, head tilting and brows furrowing under the mask. He never had it in him to take it off in front of you for longer than a minute.

♦ And you noticed it starring back at you, unmoving and that brought a tired half-smile towards your pale face, a breath of a broken laugh leaving your chest, but not mouth, giving your body a single shake.

♦ Of course he wouldn’t take it off, why would he, for some stupid play thing like you? You were too stupid to even understand why he wore it in the first place, with his looks he could have anyone he wanted, but he settled for you, why? You were pretty sure it was only because you hadn’t annoyed him that much when he tried to kill you, he just thought you were simple and stupid, perfect to use and throw away once he got bored, but now you wished so hard that he’d get it over with and move on.

♦ “Michael, I’m tired.” you murmured, and if listening to your words your brain let the wave of exhaustion wash over your face, body and soul, letting that one feeling go, your hands grasping at your hair, again blind to the twitch in his hands.

♦ “I’m grateful that you let me live then and… I adore you in a way I guess, though don’t ask me why, I don’t really understand myself.” you didn’t see him, but heard his footsteps, coming closer, but slowly, almost hesitantly. But you were sure he was just mocking you for being weak in front of him, drawing out your anxiety, the other feeling that slipped through the iron curtain your mind had set.

♦ “I just can’t handle it anymore, I know I’m pathetic, a coward, but I’ve been bearing with your… tendencies for so long… I’ve accepted you because there’s some fucked up part of me that wants to be with you but… I can’t handle being your toy, Michael… not anymore. I have feelings, too many of them, and they just… “ you didn’t get to finish, as The Shape pulled at your shoulder harshly towards him.

♦ His throat clenched when you didn’t even make a sound, your tired, blank stare welcoming him instead. “Please, Michael. I can’t risk everything for someone who can never care for me.“ you spoke still, the darkness in your heart leaking, drop by drop, filling you to the brim as you smiled still, letting tears run down your cheeks. And at the angle he held you at you couldn’t even see the anger his eyes conveyed, but you could sense it. “I know this isn’t your fault.” And all too suddenly it was gone. “But I need you to let me go now. You’ll find someone better, prettier, maybe smart enough to give you enough stability to take get rid of this mask… Because god, you know I’m just a dumb little thing.” you huffed a laughter and yet he was still, unmoved, just like he always was, so you risked it, grabbing his hand and pushing your neck into it, anger overtaking your eyes. “Just fucking finish the job, Myers.” you cried, closing your eyes the moment his fingers tightened around you neck, squeezing tight.

♦ And the feeling of relief in your gut was just sickening.

♦ Yet as you waited for your pipes to close, for a snap of your neck, for the stinging pain of his knife, nothing came. Instead your head spun with the sudden sensation of both of your cheeks being grabbed, painfully, but almost gently.

♦ You dared to open your eyes and froze instantly.

♦ “No.” Michael spoke from above you, digging his nails into your soft skin, his expression fixed into pure rage and you gulped. “You’re mine.” The growling of his voice made you tremble, eyes tearing up once more, landing on his rough fingers. “And you will be till the day I die.” He pressed his forehead against yours, his blue eye making your very souls shiver as it’s gaze connected with your own, letting you soak in the pure obsessiveness of it’s nature.

♦ And you nodded gently, struggling to catch air, clawing at his dark shirt in a desperate attempt to ground yourself to something, anything.

♦ And for once, Michael reached out to you without the intent to harm, pulling you into his chest and sitting still, letting you steal just of tiny bit of his emotion.

♦ And you whimpered in joy, realizing just how horrible of a person you were.

Bubba Sawyer:

♦ You didn’t mean to scream.

♦ Or at least not at the person you did.

♦ Both Drayton and Nubbins looked at you appalled, as their sweetest family member let his head lower, taking in your words.

♦ This whole day was horrible from the start, you waking up with a headache, no motivation, the old man calling you down to trick you into feeding grandpa, then Nubbins came, insisting on showing you his knife and attempting to cut you with it, much to Drayton’s disapproval.

♦ You’ve been walking around irritated as all hell the whole day, but once dinner rolled on, everything was just too much. Four screaming, kicking people were shoved towards the table and sat down, much to their protest, muted by the duck tape around their heads.

♦ Then Nubbins decided that it would’ve been a great idea to rip the gags off! With a knife! Laughing maniacally through the whole thing and the screams that mixed in with it soon after really didn’t help your migraine, neither did the ceremonial smashing heads in with a hammer, as Drayton missed on purpose to scare the poor, poor girl that was chosen to be first.

♦ And of course somebody had to wiggle out of the rope and hold a knife to your back, not realizing that you could, in fact, defend yourself by grabbing a plate and smashing it in his face.

♦ Then there was that chainsaw, oh, it was family, alright.

♦ Family of loud, annoying noises swearing to rip your poor brain to shreds, because there were no pain killers ANYWHERE in the house, of course there wouldn’t be! Drayton took them almost every day to ease his back pains, even though everybody knew damn well he was just tense and needed to find somebody to massage him, because neither you nor Nubbins would do it and Bubba… was a wild card.

♦ The poor boy.

♦ He just caught you at your worst moment, when you were about to tip over, having noticed that you were agitated the whole day and babbling to you in his sweet, darling voice, asking if you wan”ted to go rest.

♦ And that high pitched series of noises was enough for you to raise your voice.

♦ “CAN’T YOU FUCKING SHUT UP?!” You shrieked, not even pointing the complaint at him, but with the whole situation, it landed right at his heart.

♦ And you were god damn heart broken the moment you realized what you’ve just done.

♦ “Oh no…” he shook slightly, eyes focused on the ground as you stood up from your chair and fretted towards him. “Bubba, baby, I’m so sorry I-I didn’t…” you started, reaching out towards his masked face, but his sudden hold on your hands stopped you, making you look up at him in worry.

♦ He was pouting, but in that way that let you know he was angry and this time it was your turn to hang your head, pure shame flooding your heart.

♦ Bubba’s big, meaty and incredibly warm hand shifted to somehow fit into yours and with annoyed grumbles he pulled you to follow him and you did, ignoring Nubbins singing about you being in trouble.

♦ The big man brought you to your shared room and lightly pushed you onto the bed, making you exhaust a small huff as you hit the springy mattress. You sat up and to your shock you found Bubba kneeling down in front of you, lips still pouting, but head forcing it’s way onto your lap with a dissatisfied whine.

♦ You immediately started stroking his head, giving him small kisses in the process, calming him down as you explained your day to him, hoping he could forgive you.

♦ And when he took his boots off and climbed on the bed with you, pulling your small frame into his strong arms, you felt your whole body soften and tears ran down your cheeks, your whole being getting pulled into the worst crying fit you’ve ever had, even as a baby.

♦ And being the sweetheart that he was, Bubba was soon joining you in your messy love confessions and needy attempts at cuddling, which just ended with you sitting up, legs wrapped around each other’s waists (which was mostly just Bubba’s body making your disappear, like a true magician) and falling into a fit of crying, kisses and mumbling.

♦ When Drayton finally came to check on you, you were both asleep, eyes red from all the crying, but grinning like damned fools even while deep in dreams, hugging as much of each other as you could.

♦ And somehow three hours later your migraine was just a thing of the past, your new found motivation leading you to stand up and make everybody a tray of cookies.

♦ They deserved it, those beautiful bastards.

#michael myers x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #virgo writes #halloween #texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #michael myers #break down #I AM A DAMNED FOOL #AND THIS TOOK SO LONG BC I'VE BEEN DISTRACTED BY WONDERFUL PEOPLE #Bubba is baby ok #and mikey is bastard #angst #fluff #angst to fluff

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/25092943/chapters/60786085

SoKai Week Day 1. Prompt: One Heart.

So… Sora and Kairi’s entire conversation at the start of this is based on one that Buffy and Angel had in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, that I felt was too perfect to pass up for this.

Enjoy!

Also… it should hopefully be clear in the story, but Kairi—who is the PoV here—is definitely being an unreliable narrator in this fic, and being WAY too hard on herself.

Have Heart

It was a hideous day outside: rain was falling in torrents, the wind was howling, and there was an eclipse keeping anyone from seeing the sun.

But even though the weather conditions were bleak, the past hours hadn't been a complete loss for the Guardians of Light. While Ava had, unfortunately, gone back to the Master of Master's side after he'd told her how he loved her like a dad would, they'd gotten Aced to their side when they'd explained to him that even they thought he'd had good intentions—even if his father and siblings couldn’t see that—but had just gone about things the wrong way…

And maybe that was why Kairi and Sora were having a heart-to-heart themselves right now, in Merlin's Study, while everyone else was outside trying to fix Radiant Garden’s claymores...

"I saw you on the day you became the most popular girl at school, y'know,” Sora said now, as he held onto Kairi’s hand and looked earnestly into her eyes. “It was a beautiful day, where the sun was actually shining unlike now... and you had a lollipop in your mouth, and walked down the stairs to the courtyard… and I fell in love with you then.”

"Why?" Kairi couldn't keep herself from asking. Because it was beyond her how Sora had ever cared for the weak girl who had led to his death, let alone cared for the horrible creature she’d been even before that.

"Because... I could see your heart,” Sora assured her with a smile, as he ran a hand through her hair. And Kairi supposed he must have been serious about this… since Sora always took matters of the heart so seriously. It made her feel even more in love, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved it. "…And I was worried that your heart would be bruised or broken. And more than anything else in the world, I wanted to warm it with my own."

Kairi hugged Sora for these words—as how could she not? Especially since she wanted to revel in this feeling a little while longer, if she was going to selflessly give it up… if she couldn’t change—and replied, "That's so sweet, Sora." And it was.

But for some reason, Kairi also couldn't help thinking of their blood pumping organs being pushed together, instead of their figurative hearts that Sora had really been speaking about, "Or, taken literally… really gross." (1)

“Y’know… I was just thinking the same thing,” Sora muttered, seeming suddenly ashamed of himself if the tone in his voice was anything to go by.

And Kairi laughed uproariously, as she pulled away from Sora and smiled at him widely… and then he was grinning at her, too, before he was twirling her around and they were dancing in the midst of their ridiculous life.

And Kairi held onto the moment, in thinking that it could be her last moment with Sora… for so many reasons.

...

In the end… Kairi was selfish. She always had been, and knew this well. Wasn’t this why she’d always wanted Sora to stay home with her, rather than go on his quests? …Or why she’d forced herself into battles she wasn’t ready for—endangering everyone that way—just so she could stay by Sora’s side? And then… after Sora had died, she’d become the worst possible version of herself. That old popular girl with the bad attitude again, but also someone who’d been grieving for trauma that had happened to her on one, two, three fronts… and she’d been so cold to Riku because of it… someone who was Sora’s best friend.

And after everything they’d been through… maybe she should have just let Sora and herself be together, like they so desperately wanted, but after Sora’s heartfelt declaration the other day—where he’d told her he’d loved her when she’d only been at the first stage of unlovable—she couldn’t help thinking he deserved so much better than her.

But Kairi was too awful to let Sora go completely… So she stopped touching him or being around him if she could help it, without explaining anything, as she tried to become a better (or lesser?) version of herself, so she could hopefully be comfortable in his arms again, sooner rather than later?

Where her enemies were concerned… Kairi stopped talking to them—in not being able to get over just how annoying she was when she spoke—but she also hated that she was doing this… because it reminded her of the girl who hadn’t gotten to speak to her abuser until he was already dead, and she couldn’t get much relief that way, and it was causing the Foretellers to just think she was the simple girlfriend of Sora again, and nothing more.

But if it somehow made Kairi’s heart… truer, she would continue on this path.

So when Ursula's family were making a big deal of her being in love with George from the Jungle, when Kairi was helping out in that world, she said nothing... She also didn't even question why Alice seemed older than she should have been, when she went to Wonderland herself for the first time, and why it seemed different than Sora described it as... She even ignored telling her new friends who she thought framed Roger Rabbit, when she'd figured the answer out herself. And even when it was revealed to her that Master Ava was somehow her grandmother… Kairi didn’t react. But that was more from shock than anything else.

But it was after that had transpired, that Sora seemed to have enough of the silent treatment and began questioning her. "Kairi... I thought you wanted to be more active on our journeys… so why are you being less so now? Are you okay?"

They were back home on Destiny Islands now, after having defeated the Master of Master’s plans and most of the Foretellers, unfortunately. And Kairi had decided to just deal with all of her grief here, and not ruin the party that was going on outside, but she should have known that Sora would never leave her alone when her heart was clearly in distress… that was what she loved about him.

The Kairi of old, who had been pretty good at bottling up her emotions, wouldn't have told Sora the truth here… But the one who remembered how doing such a thing had destroyed Terra, Ventus, and Aqua’s friendship for a while, knew that she had to finally speak.

"...What's wrong is that I'm supposed to be Light, Sora…. But you're kinder and truer than I could ever be… and I’m not saying that to insult you or anything… I just find that no matter what I do, I’m a mean girl—even though I'm trying to fight some of that now… and be less me—so what can you possibly see in me? And what did the universe see, in order to gift me with this power?"

And Kairi assumed that Sora would give her some massive speech here… perhaps something like his “my friends are my power” speech, or when he’d told Riku he didn’t have a conscience… or something along the lines of what he’d said to get her to want to stay in Traverse Town so many years ago…

But instead, Sora just admitted with much simplicity and heart: "Kairi, I love you because you're you... for all the times you've saved me, and how you poke fun at me, and how we've grown up together. How could I not? So stop trying to be anyone other than yourself. And, I mean, Mister Arrogant over here isn't exactly perfect. Our flaws make us good for each other, too, believe it or not."

And Kairi wanted to argue this, she really did. Because how could the hero of the worlds be comparing himself to her?

But if Kairi was being honest with herself, she loved Sora for pretty similar reasons to what he’d just said about her, didn't she? Even when she was put off by how conceited he could be, for example, in thinking he could just magically go to the next school year—despite his grades—just because his teachers loved him so much.

And Kairi held Sora in her arms again… probably something she should’ve been doing every second and every day since he’d first spilled his guts to her, instead of pushing him away, and Kairi asked Sora the question that perhaps the universe had laid on her mind to try and comfort her. "I guess I really do need you to warm my heart, huh?"

And the words "you bet" were whispered against Kairi's head, as Sora kissed her forehead and brought her even closer to him.

Author’s Note: (1) I struggled with whether I wanted to give Kairi this Buffy line or not. On one hand… I didn’t want to, because Sora was spilling his heart out to Kairi here, and it didn’t seem like she would somewhat shoot that in the foot by saying this. But at the same time… I want Kairi to have her personality, tbh… The snarky one that we really saw in KHI and KHII, that allowed her to banter with Sora: as I think that’s one of the reasons they’re good and fun together and have chemistry. So, in the end, I decided to keep it for that reason. And perhaps Kairi later thought of her saying that, and it’s part of the reason she’s hating on herself in this story. -shrugs-

#Sokai week #sokai #SoKai Week day 1 #one heart #day 1 #mine #my work #Shanna writes #my writing #fanfiction #oneshot #canon #future fic #canon compliant #Buffy inspired #long post #out from under

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larryfanficwriter98 · 4 years

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Chapter Eight

Harry woke up the next morning drowsy and exhausted, but he grinned when he saw Louis still fast asleep beside him. Yesterday Louis and his friends had been in the pit at the show and after the show, they had hung out in the park then went back to Harry's and hung out. They got to know each other in person without a phone screen in the way. Around 10 they had all retired and not wanting to get made fun of or teased he took up big spoon rope since he was bigger than Louis. He was broader and taller so it meant Harry was the big spoon. Just like he had been with his ex a few years back. Harry looked at Louis, studied his sleeping features, and couldn't believe someone so cute and small had such a big personality. He also could remember his softer more childish features from years ago when they were teenagers.

He could still remember the way his whole body stopped working when he saw Louis. He had been 14, almost 15, and had just come out to his family a few days prior. Then there he was kissing and snogging for the first time with Louis in a closed-off hall after obviously flirting and staring on both sides. It was a perfect kiss too just like yesterday’s, well except it was a lot more awkward since Harry was 14 and never kissed anyone. No wonder Harry felt an instant connection to Louis, they felt an instant connection to each other. They had met so many times prior that Harry would believe in soulmates at this point.

Harry climbed out of bed after kissing Louis' cheek then walked into his closet. He grabbed some clothes for the day then headed to the bathroom to start his morning routine. Afterward, he headed downstairs and started on breakfast hoping he had his heart-shaped waffle iron here and didn't take it somewhere else. Finding it under his many many skillets he plugged it in then got to work on the waffle mix. Minutes later he was flipping the waffle iron to start the cooking when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind and he grinned.

"Good morning Lou." Louis hummed as Harry turned in his arms and wrapped his arm around Louis' shoulders.

"I feel exhausted even though we slept for like...10 hours."

"That's the jet leg hitting you. You just need a bit of breakfast, some fresh air, and something to do to distract yourself from it. It'll go away in a few hours. Probably around 12."

"Damn and here I thought we missed the jet leg when we took a flight that would let us sleep to get adjusted to the time zone change."

"You beat the worst of it. That's always the best way to travel so you're able to sleep and wake up to the city's morning. I'm surprised you guys thought of it."

"Liam, Niall, and Zayn planned it." Louis told him as he sat on the countertop as Harry went to go get the bacon from the fridge.

"So what do you want to do today? There's Universal, Disney, a zoo, an aquarium, museums, there are a few beaches not far from Orlando. Or we can just stay here, I have an indoor and outdoor pool, a game room, tons of movies with a movie room in the basement. Tampa is only an hour and a half drive as well. How do you want to spend our first Valentine's day together?"

"How about we just explore the town and see what we find to do. You can take me to the places you go to when you're here."

"I actually don't stay in Orlando that much unless I have shows here. I bought the house when I was 19 and was dating my ex. We went to Universal a lot together so much so that he convinced me it was a good idea to buy a house here. Of course, now I know it was because he needed somewhere to cheat on me that wasn't my LA home. For obvious reasons. If I wasn't in Manchester then I was in LA and he lived in LA so I stayed there a lot. Whenever he came to visit family or cheat I went home to visit my family."

"He made you buy a home in Orlando so he could cheat on you?" Louis asked

"Well, his reasoning was because we went to Universal so much because he liked it but yeah it was also to cheat."

"Did he tell you he cheated when you broke up?"

"No, actually I found out when I came to Orlando and walked inside my room to see him fucking a girl in my bed. I knew he was bisexual, but his reasoning was because I wasn't having sex with him even though we had been together for quite a long time actually. Also since it wasn't a guy he wasn't technically cheating."

"Please tell me you dumped him after that."

"Actually no. I stayed with him for another six months and in those six months I had been guilt tripped each time he was hard into giving him a hand or blow job. I broke up with him when he tried to talk me into having sex with him before I was ready. He had been pushing it for a month and this particular time he just wasn't taking no for an answer. I realized what he was doing. I told him to grab his stuff and leave." Harry told Louis who stared at him

"Who stayed with someone who cheated on you then was manipulated and talked into performing sexual acts because he didn't want to wank in a shower? What a dick head. I am- if someone has ever done that to one of my sisters I'd have murdered him. If he still alive because your sister is scary."

"She doesn't know what happened. Well, she knows it was because I wouldn't have sex with him, but not everything." Louis wrapped his arms and legs around Harry and pulled him in close to his body, Harry's hands falling to his hips smiling at him.

"Well just know that he was an asshole and a selfish prick and I never want you to feel obligated to do anything you don't want to. Because trust me I get hard pretty easily, but that doesn't mean I am going to pressure you in any way. I forced myself my first time, I wanted to get over with and I regretted it minutes later. I wasn't ready but I was 18 and I had convinced myself and forced myself to go through with it when I was drunk at the pub. It was in a dirty dingy bathroom with spit, water, and precum as lube, and never again will I trust a guy who said 'Relax I got this' with his hands down my pants. My dick and ass were sore for days because of the dryness. So trust me when I say if you ever feel ready with me I will be sure to make it very very special and memorable and you will be the most comfortable person ever. No matter what position we take."

"First..ew...that just sounds gross and horrible. If you ever spit on me I will sue you. I don't care what the reason is if you dare spit on me I will sue you. Do you understand." Louis laughed as he nodded, "Good. Secondly, I trust you and am comfortable with you more than I have been with anyone. I, unfortunately, came into fame as a virgin, and also my first boyfriend was a manipulative verbally abusive ass. So it's harder to trust anyone, believe me, there have been times when I've wanted to just get it over with too, but you don't know who to trust anymore. The media offers people money for a story, even if it's not true. I trust you though. I've always felt you to be trustworthy and honest. I'm not worried about you going off to any media outlet that offers you money, which is why I refused to make you sign an NDA when my lawyer and label wanted you to when we started face timing."

"I can sign an NDA-"

"No. I trust you. Besides if you were going to say anything you'd have done it by now. You have enough information to make a few million."

"Really? I don't have that much that isn't exactly common knowledge." Louis said

"You have enough." Harry said with a shrug as he moved to out a skillet on the stove to start the bacon as the waffle maker timer went off.

"Want my help?"

"Please tell him no. We would like it to be edible." Liam said as he and Zayn walked into the room with Niall following only moments later

"I got it. Go sit with your friends then after breakfast we'll leave for town. We'll explore together."

"Sounds good." Louis said, leaning over to press a kiss to Harry's cheek before jumping down and sitting on a stool, "So what are you lads doing today?" Louis asked his mates

"Us three have a taxi coming in an hour so it can take us to a car rental since it was closed yesterday when we landed." Zayn said

"I have three cars in the garage you can drive. A 2013 Audi S8, a 2011 Mercedes SLK, and a 2011 range rover. Then my car that I'll be taking today is a 2015 Audi A5. My newer car that I bought for my 21st birthday."

"Are you sure you want them to drive? They're not the best-"

"Excuse you. Who has an accident here and who doesn't?" Liam said looking st Louis

"An accident that wasn't my fault. He hit me when I was parked."

"Still an accident." Liam said

"I'll put you guys on my insurance for the week, it's not that big of a deal. If anything happens it's not like I can't afford it. I hardly drive them anyway. I drive my new Audi and my new Range Rover all the time. I've sold most of my other ones and I've been meaning to sell these three. I just keep forgetting about them. The keys are up on the key hanger in the front entrance." Harry said with a shrug

"Are you sure?" Niall asked

"I'm positive. Rental cars are a pain in the ass don't even bother. They require so much and for international travelers like you guys it could take hours before you're approved. So just take one of mine."

~~~

After a wonderful breakfast of heart-shaped waffles and bacon for everyone Louis took a shower and got dressed in black skinnies and one of his graphic tees the boys gave him over the years. It has a graphic of a vanilla cone and on the shirt, it read "vanilla is for ice cream". Louis loved this shirt and didn't think much of it as he pulled it on then headed downstairs. The front door was opened and when Louis stepped outside he saw the garage was opened. He headed inside and saw all four shiny cars well taken care of and all of his mates in one of the three cars mentioned while Harry leaned against an Audi.

"Niall is going out on his own so he isn't third-wheeling anyone so I'm letting him pick the car first much to Zayn's disappointment."

"Niall can come with us."

"I offered, but I think he just wants to explore on his own. Is he ever away from you three?"

"Not really. Zayn and Liam have monthly date nights and they've been busy planning their wedding. So it's been very coupley at the house."

"The wedding is what..three months away now?"

"Yeah. May 14 to be exact. You're invited by the way, as my plus one if you want to come."

"They told me I was invited, they actually asked if I would sing their first dance song for them then I told them I can ask Ed himself to do it and they got excited. So remind me to call Ed in a few hours, I want to get him before he goes to sleep as it's only 5 in London."

"Sure so about 3?"

"Yeah, about 3 or 4. Around the time we end our exploration and go to the shops to get groceries for our romantic dinner tonight."

"Sounds good."

"Well, are we ready to go? The lad knows to lock up before they leave, they have the codes for the security box outside, and they have a house key. Also, they each have mine and my security team's number should they need anything. As well as copies of insurance cards."

"Already?"

"Paper temporary ones. You have one too in my glove box but figured since I'll be driving for now you won't need it right away."

"Then yeah I'm if you're ready." Harry pushed off from the car and opened the passenger side door letting Louis into the car before closing it once Louis was settled in the seat.

#Larry Stylinson #larry fanfiction #larry fic #work in progress #New Chapter #archive of our own #Wattpad

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fatbottombucky · 5 years

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Seventeen *Peter Parker x Rogers!Reader* 1/12

Summary: Y/N Rogers is Steve’s Rogers great-great-great niece. Captain America recently became her guardian due to unfortunate circumstance, and Peter couldn’t be happier. Although he’s never talked to the girl, like ever. Due to failing grades Y/N purposes a deal to the young boy, a deal that would see the nerdy boy and popular beauty become close. Too close for Steve’s likening...

~Based upon the song Seventeen from Heathers~

Pairings: Peter Parker x [F]Rogers!Reader // [F]Rogers!Reader x OC!

Ratings: Mature (+18)

Warnings: Violance & abuse; mentally and physically. Suggestions of r*pe, it’s not detailed but there’s suggestions of it. Toxic boyfriend/past toxic family relationships

Authors Note: Also to me reader would be a red head (hence why I use Cheryl Blossom gifs) only becomes Steve’s mother is an Irish immigrant, so red head would run in the family. Reader is in no way described, it’s up to you how she’s depicted. civil war didnt happen

Chapter One: We’re Damaged, Really Damaged.

“H-hey.”

A voice stuttered, pulling you from your stretch. You looked up in time to see Peter blush and hastily pass his camera from one hand to the next, a nervous tremor about him.

“Parker,” you smile gracefully from the gym floor, “what do us Vixens owe the pleasure of seeing you here?”

The light giggles echoed around the gym, only making Peter shyer than before. He fiddled with the camera a bit more, looking down at you briefly.

“Was wondering if I could ask some of the cheerleaders to model?” You tilted your head, red hair swaying with the geasture, “I-mean, I need some shots for a portfolio, models would be nice and I know that Midtown Vixens aren’t camera shy. No one has to, of course, it was stupid. I should’ve just-“

“Peter!” He snaps his mouth shut, “my girls would love to, instagram worthy pics and edited for free, we’re in.”

Peter smiles and nodded, a little sigh leaving his lips. “Cool. Thank you, I’m thinking around free period tomorrow?”

You looked at the girls behind you, normally you have practice but skipping for one photoshoot might be a nice break.

“Definitely, we’ll bring our best clothes,” you smile and Peter nods. “Is there a theme for your portfolio?”

He shakes his head, “I can’t tell you,” you frown. “I’m trying to capture the perfect photos, I have a specific thing in my mind and I don’t want you girls to... fake it. A completely natural, real reactions.”

You smirk inwardly and nod, “okay, you’re the photographer, Parker. See you tomorrow, now leave us Vixies hate being watched as we stretch.” You shoo him away.

He nods and quickly turns, walking out of the gym with a dorky smile on his face.

“He’s such a nerd,” Shay snorts, flicking her dark curls over one shoulder as she stands, “let’s hope he can take some good photos considering he’s always shaking like a leaf.”

“Hey!” You stop the laughter, “he’s a sweetheart. I’ve known him since we were four, I think, he’s just shy.”

Yourself and the rest of the cheerleaders go back to stretching, a normal work-out routine following shortly before you all called it quits. The basketball team had to practice and you weren’t really feeling in the mood to dance, especially with the boys watching today.

“That party last Saturday was wild,” Jess snickered as she took off her cheer outfit, the girls all hollering in agreement. “Y/N, you always manage to drink so much, you need to slow down.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, not facing her, “Yeah...” you trail off.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember what happened last Saturday night. You’d be worried but it had become an occurrence when drinking with the football team, you’d somehow drink more than you meant to, wake up wrapped in your boyfriend but... feeling off.

Jake, always, promised that nothing happened and he kept you safe- the girls all saying how he’d take you to a room or home.

You’re, probably, just paranoid. Your mother used to always warn you about blacking out drunk around boys, how it’s just bad news to get drunk because it leads to bad choices. You never used to be like this.

You quickly got dressed, smiling at the girls before heading out of the changing rooms and towards your locker. The halls were crowded with students that moved out of your way, you tried not to smile at that.

“Hey, babe,” an arm is slung across your shoulders, you look up at Jake and smile slightly, “Miss me?” A smirk turning the corners of his mouth, you don’t answer and scoff.

You shrug his arm off as you open your locker, grabbing your book bag and pencil case as he leans against the lockers beside yours.

“So, me and coupla girls are gonna skip last period, you in?” He asked as you shut the locker and looked at him.

You sighed, biting your bottom lip, “I can’t. I’m failing classes, I can’t afford to skip anymore. Especially with try-outs coming up, around this time I can get demoted or worse kicked from the squad,” Jake only huffs in annoyance, “I’m sorry. Must be really hard for you knowing your girlfriend's parents just died and her grades are suffering.”

“Hey,” he snapped quietly, you looked at him and he sighs, “I just think working yourself to the bone ain’t gonna help ya. Maybe you should step down from Captain.”

You raised your eyebrows in offence. He did not just suggest that!

You had worked your ass off to get Cheer Captain, endured hours of countless routines to get it. Countless competitions, winning six nationals and three regionals, you couldn’t just give it up. You slam your locker closed.

“I’m not quitting,” you declare loudly. “I worked too damn hard to give up now, I’m just going through stuff. You should be supporting me-”

“Babe,” Jake sighed, “I am. I’m on your side, I’m sorry. Go to lessons, I fully support you,” he kissed your cheek and you sigh lightly, glaring over his shoulder at students that watched your outburst.

The commute home was... horrible. The bus was completely packed full of people, a gross older dude kept pressing up into you and almost made you full over. Gross. People are gross.

“Long day?” called as you threw the bag on the floor, toeing off your shoes by the door.

“It’s to be expected,” you mutter walking towards him before falling next to him on the sofa, you glance at Steve, your ridiculously older uncle. “You?”

He lets out a sigh himself, “To be expected,” you both let out strained chuckles.

An awkward silence fills the air. You always knew Captain America as your ancestor, in fact, it was something you celebrated as a child. You were praised at a young age, held on a shine because you were part of a line that was ‘expecting greate things’.

In 2012 when he was de-iced, it took him a while to eventually get in contact with his family. Your parents took to him pretty quickly, you knew why. Glory. Money. Fame. Whatever. They wanted a piece of it, and Steve could tell.

He liked you though. Your fiery temper, bright smile and need to be better, only reminded him of himself.

Then your parents had an untimely death and for a while, you wondered if Steve would take you in. You didn’t expect him to, he is, after all, Captain America. But the thought of going through the Foster system was... not an option. Steve never questioned your lack of grief over your parents, assumed you cried alone and went through your process...

If anything you were relieved. A weight had been stripped from you, the shadow lingered over ahead, threatening to break you still but you always managed to walk on ahead of it.

“School called,” He begins and you sigh, “you’re failing classes, Y/N. You made me a promise when I took you in, that you’d stay on top of everything in order to keep going there. That’s why I got this apartment, for you to be able to go Midtown.” He sits up and looks at your slouched form.

“I’m just having a difficult time,” you mutter and look away, “I promise I’m getting on top of it.”

He sighed and shakes his head.

“I have a tutor,” you quickly inform and he looks at you, “Yeah, I asked some nerd boy today, we’re gonna be studying. I can’t lose Cheer Captain, I refuse.”

He nods once, “Okay, you have till next exams to prove me wrong, I’ll get dinner started.”

You pull out your homework, only nodding in silence as you sit on the floor by the coffee table. You eye the opened file, James Barnes, Steve is hellbent on finding his bestie.

Tomorrow you’d have to find a willing tutor to help you, otherwise, you’re royally screwed.

~tags; comment or message me to be tagged~

@nicnicw06 @missshadowpup @herre-gud-nej @anasteas @letsnottalkaboutendgame @michaels-endtime @spiderchins @emmamarshmellow @romance-geek @thearcticmonkeysbitches @lastkiiiiss @daddyloonglegss

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #spiderman x reader #spider man x reader #peter parker #spiderman oneshot #spiderman imagine

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gyokuto · 3 years

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current thoughts on this whole yashahime mess

before you read: if you are a supporter of s*sshr*n and somehow come across this post, please don’t try to argue with me. this isn’t a ship war to me, idc who this man ends up with (as long as it’s not his kid).

also, don’t take this personally because i’m not calling anyone a pedo. i am however side-eyeing adults who are a little too into this ship...i’d say maybe...don’t do that. for those of you who are minors/close to r*n’s age and support it, i definitely don’t wanna argue with a kid! i will say, when i was in middle school, i didn’t ship it, but i wasn’t opposed to it either. i didn’t understand why it was bad, but now i do.

the strange thing about some of the pro-s*sshr*n arguments that i see is that to them, s*ssh*maru is not a pedo or a groomer, and i would agree that based on all the content we have thus far, they’re right.

he isn’t a character like happosai (ranma 1/2) or even homura (yashahime). he is relatively young (19 in appearance), he is pretty, and he is a cool character. the epitome of bishounen. he is a likable character who didn’t express any problematic behavior besides hating humans and treating his half-demon brother like shit, and he experienced growth and changed for the better. (in other words, this character doesn’t fit any perverted trope.)

furthermore, a main part of why he changed was that he found this little girl (8 yrs old) to guard and take care of. in a world that focuses so much on romantic love, why mess with a beautiful story about how his love for his child helped him to accept his brother and realize that humans were okay? (also, don’t bring jaken into this lmao. he is r*n’s babysitter, but s*ssh CHOSE to adopt her.)

that’s why this relationship is so hurtful to people that are being brushed off as “antis” in a “ship war” (this is NOT a ship war) over being triggered by this relationship. a lot of fans of the series are survivors of grooming and abuse. (moreover, you don’t have to be a survivor to see that it is inappropriate or wrong.)

we’re creating and sharing memes about how s*ssh is canceled as a joke, but obviously we aren’t actually upset at a fictional character who never showed these tendencies in the past. we’re upset with a studio and potentially a mangaka for romanticizing/normalizing a relationship with horrible implications.

imo, the fact that s*ssh never showed these tendencies and is a popular character makes it all the more sick because many people (as we have seen) support it or see no issue with it. we are seeing the normalization of something bad, and, as much as people deny it: fiction affects our perceptions of what is okay in the real world. (we become desensitized to certain things.)

inuyasha (the series) was always quick to shame or point out problematic behavior. obviously, there are tropes that didn’t age well, but those are a product of when the story was written (not the time period the story is set in).

what i mean is, this isn’t that type of ecchi/hentai anime where we see the sexualization of inappropriate relationships, so s*sshr*n, for many, is coming out of left field.

obviously supporters of this relationship have always existed, but this was never a part of the original story. before the existence of yashahime, no where in canon could the relationship have been interpreted as explicitly romantic. people who were uncomfortable with it didn’t have to deal with it because we didn’t interact with content of it, but now it is sort of impossible to avoid, right?

the reaction that many s*sshr*n shippers are having where they laugh and ridicule those who are hurt and opposed to this is extremely insensitive. i see a lot of “don’t like it, don’t watch” and it really sucks because it’s not like “antis” aren’t long time fans of the series, you know?

like if you wanna be funny over like sesskik vs sesskagu or something, that’s completely fine because those ships aren’t hurting anyone, but why ridicule people’s discomfort or their ptsd over an adult/child ship? that’s gross.

inuyasha (the series) is near and dear to our hearts, and that is why seeing these poor writing choices hurts. (and for me, it especially hurts to see the destruction of one of my fave relationships in the show which is the father-daughter relationship that s*ssh and r*n had/hopefully still have.)

#my posts #i'm sad abt the new ep lol #it's making me nervous

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themountainsays · 2 years

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I gave you soul mate angst and you made it even worse, that is INCREDIBLE. I love you platonically and this is amazing.

Re: Mariano, I’m thinking something similar to your thought process; he maybe saw Dolores and Isabela at the same time helping around town and saw color, which Abuela pounced on as a connection point even though Isabela saw color long before she met him. Meanwhile, Dolores saw color when she saw Mariano and ends up in one of two thoughts:

1. The simple angst solution, Mariano is her soul mate but she isn’t, or at least that’s what she believes for a long time even though it isn’t true.

2. The one were poor Isabela after a year or two of the facade breaks because this is just too much and she has to tell SOMEONE the truth so she tells Dolores everything, because their suffering is at least incredibly similar if not exactly the same. Regardless of Dolores’ reaction, Isabela makes her swear not to tell a soul, ESPECIALLY Mirabel—who is starting to get old enough to ask questions.

Omg yes let's being Dolores into this mess i love her so much.

Dolores creates the kind of situation where you're better off telling her your secrets yourself than letting her find out on her own, because just because she heard something doesn't mean she has all the information and tools to interpret it correctly and she may assume the worst. Maybe you really WERE moving furniture with your lady neighbor while your wife was out of town and you'd hate it if this young Madrigal girl were to judge you, so you tell her the truth.

I assume Isabela does the same - in one hand, she loves and trusts Dolores. I imagine she's very isolated from the rest of her family other than her grandmother but has a pretty good friendship with her cousin, so if she were to tell anyone, it'd be her. Dolores knows so many secrets, she has no energy or morals to judge anymore. And on the other, it's likely that Dolores already suspects something, and Isabela wouldn't want her to assume she's abusing her little sister or anything, so it's best to clear things up quickly. So when it becomes too much, and she's reaching her breaking point, she tells her everything. Dolores tells her the truth in return - that Mariano is her soulmate and she's been in love with him for a long time - even though Abuela threatened to punish her if she ever let anyone know.

Now that I'm thinking about it, the town is crazy small. It's likely Isabela and Dolores knew Mariano since they were little, like from school or church or just running into him on the streets. I want to cry thinking about 10 year old Isabela, Dolores and Mariano being forced into this horrible situation by Alma. Ten year old Dolores being told to abandon her soulmate and ten year old Isabela being preppared to marry this boy as soon as she's old enough. Pushed down the path to the chopping block like a slaughter sheep since she was a kid. Pruned like a bush from a young age, bred to be married off to someone that isn't for her, someone she doesn't love. And ten year old Mariano, who's just such a good boy, being lied to and manipulated just as much if not more than her, forced into this scheme simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I imagine Abuela may even tell Dolores not to talk to or spend any time with Mariano lest he realizes the lie and/or unhelpful feelings develop.

Man this is beginning to look like a telenovela. I wonder what Bruno thinks about all of this.

Though I'm glad to know Isabela and Dolores at least have each other ;-; it must be soothing to Isabela to know someone is on her side, that her cousin doesn't think she's gross or dangerous for being her sister's soulmate. She's gonna have a good cry on her shoulder and Dolores is gonna do the same.

AND THEN THERE'S ALSO MIRABEL. What's Mirabel's deal while this happens? Is she looking for her soulmate, thinking maybe they will love and accept her in a way her family doesn't? Does she hope they'll be someone to run away with? Someone to at least soothe the pain? You know, like Félix and Pepa. Abuela always chastised Pepa for her lack of control over her powers, but Félix is so delighted by her! He doesn't mind that she makes it rain all over - he probably likes the rain. I imagine Mirabel may think her soulmate will be someone like that, because Pepa and Félix ARE soulmates (as they obviously are in canon lol). So when she finds out her soulmate, who she thought would give her love, just seems to... hate her... well, ouch.

Are Mirabel and Isabela even in love, Anon? 👀 what do you think 👀

#madrigalcest #isamira #shipcest #isamira soulmate au #ahhhh #anon 😭

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ramheavenandhell · 4 years

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The Lines Between Ricks And Mortys – Chapter 4: That's just disgusting / Time to get your hands dirty

Warnings: fanboying, horrible fake accent, more violence, more artistic liberty with Morty battles, also a bunch of handsome Mortys in this one

The Lines Between Ricks And Mortys – Chapter 4: That's just disgusting / Time to get your hands dirty After A-22β6 had reported that Salesman Rick was most likely not involved in any illegal crime activities, but just an old sad man, who was probably misunderstood, the number of suspected Ricks had quickly dwindled down to only one – Dirty Rick. This time K-4872 promised to look into it and he would do it thoroughly.

The C-137 team meanwhile continued their interdimensional travels to catch more Mortys and gain more badges. Once more, they stepped through a portal to arrive at a random place… "Oh great. A fucking cave dimension. Just lovely…" Rick groaned. Indeed, they were inside an underground tunnel system. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were made of dirty brown stone and the only source of light came from the lamps that were strung along the ceiling. The air was stifling and Morty felt immediately claustrophobic even though the cavern in which they stood right now was still pretty spacious. It was quickly decided that he disliked this dimension as much as his Rick did. Nonetheless, the scientist and unchallenged leader of the group pulled out his trusty Mortytector and lead the way. They ventured through several tunnels and after they walked around the maze-like lair for more than an hour even Morticia feared that they were hopelessly lost. It was only after a flash of bright yellow caught the female's eyes that she gained newfound trust in her grandfather. This was the Morty that Rick seemed to have been looking for. Morty C-137 just wanted to take a closer look from a safe distance, but at that exact same moment, the other boy noticed him, too. Of course, Morty was expecting the other boy to flee from him like the wild Mortys always did. However, this one brightened up and actually began to run towards him. The somewhat strange clothes and the slightly delirious look on other Morty's face creeped the brunet out and so C-137 began to ran, too. He was fleeing from the weirdo. Rick watched the whole spectacle in mild annoyance as the boys were running around him in circles now. Seemingly, he was undecided if it was a good thing that the Super Morty Fan Morty wasn't running away from them so they wouldn't have to chase after him in this damn underground labyrinth or if it was a bad thing that he was actually pursuing his Morty. Well, the only bad thing about this was obviously the fact that his grandson was such a pussy again! Morty C-137 was close to having a panic attack as the Super Fan tried to hug him. "Please wait! I just wanna cuddle you!" the crazy boy yelled and made a smooch-face. Instead of having a calming effect, this only made the hunted one speed up. Rick sighed, not being able to see his pathetic grandson being chased by another version of himself for much longer. "Shadow Morty. You go in and beat that little turd up." He ordered the black specter beside him. Shadow Morty didn't waste any time and with a menacing face – even though the only thing you could see were his white eyes – he hovered between the two, efficiently stopping the Morty Fan. The boy halted and looked with big eyes at him before asking after a few moments, "Are you a Morty, too?" He didn't wait for a reply as his eyes turned all glazed and starry. "Wow!" The Morty Fan Morty tried to hug the shadow, but of course, he passed through the non-physical form and landed on the ground. With a pout and slightly teary eyes, he looked back up at the specter. Shadow Morty decided that he had seen enough of his opponent's antics, but just as he was about to attack the other stopped him. "Hold on a second!" he said and hastily drew a sketch block and a pencil from his Morty-shaped backpack. Curious what the other might be trying to do, Shadow Morty held off his attack and only watched in confusion as the Super Fan started to scribble something on a blank sheet of paper. It didn't take long before the fanboy was done and presented to Shadow Morty the masterpiece that he drew. The content of said picture was of rather questionable nature, depicting what looked like the Super Fan and Shadow Morty in a rather compromising position. Shadow Morty made a screech that sounded like an "eep", looking horrified by the art and dashed to hide behind his Rick's back, cowering as if he had been just traumatized. "What the heck?!" Rick commented on his most violent Morty's behavior. But then, he also got to see the surprisingly detailed fanart. "Urgh! That's just disgusting!" He may have seen and done a lot of shit in his life, but this kid should seriously seek some professional psychological help. That picture was in one word gross! Nonetheless, this little turd was just what was missing in his team and he would catch him somehow. "Morticia, go and knock him unconscious." The girl was his ace card. If she couldn't do it then he'd have no faith that his team of Mortys are even worth keeping, small as it was as of yet. With determination, Morticia stepped forward, ready to punch the living daylights out of the fanboy. Just as she was about to attack him – delivering a hard kick straight into his stomach – the Super Morty Fan started to fanboy again. "Oh wow! You're a girl! Aww and so cute!!" Embarrassingly enough the compliment made Morticia halt in her actions and blush. Rick only groaned. This girl had been his last hope. He was never going to win against the Council of Dicks with these useless Mortys… As the Super Fan glomp-hugged Morticia, Morty became emphatic enough at the girl's plight that he tried to come to her help, ignoring the possible "danger" of getting to close into the fanboy's range. Helplessly he tried to pull the other boy off of his victim and soon you could only see a tangle of yellow and limbs. Seeing the mess, Shadow Morty found heart again to also join in and managed to wrestle his two comrades free. As Super Fan Morty – apparently a very forgetful boy – tried to hug the specter again and plummeted to the ground, Rick stepped in and injected the chip to the boy's temple. All four stood with baited breath and watched the LED blinking. "Peep! Peep! Peep!" the annoyingly high and loud sound that accompanied the blinking was echoing through the cave. "Peeep!!" With the loudest beep-noise, the light turned green and the C-137 team released the breath that they had been holding. On second thought, the Mortys started to wonder if they even wanted to have this guy in their group. Well, nothing to be done about that now. Rick had already made up his mind and would keep this one as long as he proved that he could win some battles. The entire team watched as the chip reprogrammed the Morty's memories and as the glazed-look vanished from his face and his eyes were focused again, the three Mortys started to hold their breath again. "Hey, Rick. Wow, what's going on? Who are these Mortys?" he grinned happily as his sight landed on his teammates. "Those are your new playmates. Try to get along with them and don't harass them too much, okay?" Rick explained and took a big sip from his flask. The trio was grateful that Rick was trying to do some damage control. They knew that they needed that kind of support from their grandfather and leader. "Okay, Rick." Super Fan Morty chirped happily.

Morty K-4872 had done his research and he had done it really thoroughly. He could testify that Dirty Rick had so many felonies on his back that he would be stuck in jail for a really long time if he would hand him over to the authorities. However, none of the things that he had found out linked him in any way to the illegal Morty brothel ring. Then again, dealings like that were so well guarded and kept secret that they were probably not easy to unearth with just a little search about background history. No, in this case Morty would have to get his hands dirty and make this up close and personal. Actually, he hated interrogations, though usually his Rick was the one who led those while Morty had to inflict the torture and pain at his mentor's command. This was easily the top reason why he hated interrogations in the first place. But this time, it would be different because this time his grandfather wouldn't lead – he wouldn't even help him out with it. And this was bound to make all the difference. Yet, the Morty was still unsure if he could really go through with it. He had to! This wasn't for himself, but for the sake of all the other Mortys who were in pain and tortured and the ones that were in the very danger of ending up like that. Who knew how many Mortys counted on him rescuing them from their cruel fate and how many more needed to be protected so that they wouldn't have to suffer, too? Morty-abuse was sadly enough such a common thing in the Rick community – not just on the Citadel, but in general – that it was beyond believable that there were still some who felt the need to stack such heinous crimes on top of it and make the lives of every Morty Smith in the multiverse even harder and more unbearable than it already was! With those thoughts as motivation in his mind, K-4872 stomped inside the Morty Games Coliseum. His Rick was slowly following him, clearly with far less enthusiasm as the boy. Why should he get worked up over this though? This was his boy's mission and not his own after all. Morty didn't have to search for long, quickly finding a counter at which his target stood positioned at. It was really just the counter on the right side, just after entering the entrance hall. He was so easy to recognize with his cocky smirk, sharp angled face, dark bags under his eyes, the long slicked down hair that he tied together in a loose ponytail and the cheap suite that he wore. The tasteless bling in the form of golden rings on his hands of which one held onto a toothpick and in the shape of a bunch of ear studs as well as an unoriginal necklace that had a golden lock dangling from it, didn't make him one bit more likable. His entire appearance screamed shady whether it were those tattoos that he so openly presented on his neck and the back of his hand or that band aid on his cheek that was covering up a fresh wound that might probably leave a lasting scar… or that facial hair of his. In short he looked like a dirty rat! This was without a mistake the Rick that he was looking for. Rick D-9 – Dirty Rick. With an air full of confidence, he walked over to the counter. It was finally time to get his hands dirty… The Rick looked down at him in slight confusion, only used to dealing with Ricks and not with Mortys themselves. "Whazzup? Ya lost dat Rick of yaz?" he asked slightly irritated in an odd accent. "I'm not looking for my Rick. I'm looking for some answers!" Morty K-4872 practically spat as he tried to look the other down with narrowed eyes.

Morty C-137 still couldn't stop thinking about their last battle. It was a fight against a trainer, but this one hadn't been alien, at least not to him – it had been his dad. He had an Ad Space Morty, a Jerry Morty and a Jerry Fan Morty on his side and he happened to overhear from the trio that he didn't even catch them, but the Mortys had decided to stay with him out of sympathy. After his loss, his father had only begged Rick pathetically to not tell Beth about the Pocket Mortys fad because he worried that things would get really ugly and violent if he did. Well, Morty's mom was extremely competitive at times so he could imagine it pretty well. He still kind of wondered how his dad got involved into this – or from which dimension he was for that matter. Then again, it probably made as much sense as the Burger King rip-off of at the Citadel – Jerry King – which had been build and was run by a bunch of Jerrys (and Mortys). Rick had made it a point to avoid that fast food joint though. Even if he did want to try them all out, no one said that he couldn't leave out a few. Thankfully, the dimension that they were in right now looked normal again. Actually, it was even more normal than "normal". Not only were they outside again, but the dirt looked brown and the grass looked green. The sky was blue and the trees looked just the same like they did in Morty's home dimension. If he didn't know any better he'd say they were actually on earth again. Only the fact that they rarely met any humans and only alien Morty trainers, reminded Morty C-137 again that this wasn't home. "Heads up, dipshits. Here comes the final boss." Rick declared as they walked straight towards a big boss battle arena. The brunet gulped and his comrade's faces became steely and hard as they climbed the stairs. No matter how often they faced off against a Rick leader, it never became easier. Quite the opposite actually. However, Morty was hit by surprise as he saw whom they were up against. The opposing Rick wore a pink blazer, blue shirt, light-blue pants, green socks, white shoes and pink-tinted mirroring sunglasses. His ashen skin also looked a little more like a tan. Somehow, he looked like he came straight from the beach. However, not only the Rick looked very unusual. Morty was quite impressed by the four interdimensional counterparts that stood behind the gym leader. They were Sexy Devil Morty, Super Unicorn Morty, Turbulent Juice Morty and Mortaion Morty. Especially the last one drew Morty's attention to herself – for several reasons. "W-w-wow." He stuttered and blushed. "Why does the other Rick have so se—uh—handsome Mortys?" "Yeah, I've heard of this guy. He's called Miami Rick and owns a nightclub in his earth's dimension's Miami." Rick replied as if that would explain everything. Morty only looked strangely at his grandfather now. Any further questions that he might have had were lost as the battle was finally about to start. "Let's just get over this quickly. I've got places to be, Rick." Miami Rick said and selected his first Morty – Sexy Devil Morty. "Heh, that's my line, Rick." Rick C-137 commented and sent his original grandson on the field who sighed. He didn't really feel like fighting anymore against other versions of himself. Honestly, what exactly was even the point of those battles? Wasn't it all just for Ricks' selfish entertainment again? As his Rick sent him a stern glare, he at least tried to put up a determined front again. No matter how he looked at it, they would have to win and just get through some more battles if they ever wanted to attempt catching that Mysterious Rick and finally go back home again. So, he tried to direct the anger that he felt for Ricks on his opponent even if the other Morty didn't deserve it. Actually, the Sexy Devil Morty looked pretty harmless. He looked like he was only a boy who for some odd reason was still wearing last year's Halloween costume. Additionally he looked as uncomfortable about having to fight as he felt at the moment. Admittedly, Morty C-137 felt really bad for having to beat him up. "Well, c'mon Morty. Use swing." His Rick commanded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, Rick." The brunet mumbled back unenthusiastically and went to attack his enemy. Since the other brunet just stood there still with the expression of discomfort on his face, Morty closed his eyes as he took a swing. He blinked them open in surprise again the next moment as he noticed that he only hit air. The devilish Morty had dodged his attack and his face has warped into one of boredom now. "Uugh… Morty! What the heck was that?!" Rick C-137 immediately scolded his dumb grandson for missing his opponent. It was now the other Rick's turn to order his Morty to attack. "Quick, Sexy Devil Morty! Use your surprise attack! 666!" The boredom shifted to malice as the boy suddenly pulled a pitchfork from behind his back. Morty C-137's eyes widened at the sight. Where had the other even hid that thing? Since he was still in shock, C-137 was reacting too slowly as the other Morty attacked him. He screamed like a banshee as the prongs of the fork pierced the skin of his arm. After the hit, he felt even worse though. He groaned sluggishly and staggered, barely able to hold himself up anymore. "What's wrong, Morty? It was just a little prick. Can't have hurt that much." Rick's irritated voice penetrated the fog inside the boy's mind. "I-I-I think… I've been poisoned…" he moaned painfully. "WHAT?!" Miami Rick cackled now along with his Morty. "Indeed. That special attack of my Morty is poisonous." He boasted. Now it was Rick C-137's turn to groan. In annoyance. He rummaged inside his coat and dug a green capsule-shaped object out of it. "You're real lucky that we just picked this up from another trainer a few battles ago, right Morty?" he said as he went over to his grandson and used the serum that was labeled poison-be-gone. The item immediately cured the horrible effect and Morty instantly felt better. "Thanks, Rick." He said in an honest tone and with a sincere smile. "Psht! Just do better now and don't get poisoned again, you little shit. I don't have unlimited supplies of that stuff, you know?" the older man replied contemptuously. Morty nodded and luckily noticed from the corner of his eyes that the boy in the red spandex suit tried to attack him with the trident-like weapon again. This time his reaction was much faster and he not only evaded the attack but also countered and managed to disarm his opponent. The glowing-red hayfork fell with a loud clank on the ground just outside of the ring. Sexy Devil Morty looked with a highly displeased face after it. Next thing the boy found himself also on the ground since Morty C-137 had slammed into him. Said boy was sitting on his opponent now and began to lay into him. After that mean and devious attack, C-137 saw no point in holding back anymore. The other had been only playing the role of an innocent boy and tried to trick him so he would let his guard down and worst of all, it had actually worked. Morty C-137 didn't stop his attacks until he was sure that the other was no longer able to fight. "Yeah, Morty! That's what I'm talking about!" Rick C-137 cheered, actually a little proud of his grandson. Miami Rick didn't look as fazed as his first defeated Morty crawled back to his side again. He only nodded with his head towards his Mortaion Morty who now stepped onto the battlefield. Morty C-137 gulped a little and blushed as his new opponent winked at him. "C'mon, Morty! Get a grip!" His grandfather sounded annoyed again as he saw how Morty was acting. "Y-you're right, Rick!" he said and tried to focus again. "I really shouldn't feel this weird about an alien girl version of myself." Miami Rick interrupted this time. "Actually, that one's not really a Morty. She's part of an exotic type of space sirens who just happen to look like a sexy female Morty. So it's not like this would be considered narcissism or selfcest or something like that…" "WHA-WHAT?!" the revelation was so shocking to Morty that he again failed to dodge his enemy's attack. "Goddammit, Morty! Don't be an idiot! She's obviously a trap!!" Rick C-137 shouted. Unfortunately, this information confused the brunet only more. "What? What's that supposed to mean, Rick?" His inattentiveness towards his opponent rewarded him with another hard punch and more damage towards his health. The Mortaion Morty didn't stop in her attacks and kept going with a mix of flirting and precise, strong hits. So, it didn't take very long till Morty C-137 was on the ground. "Damn, Morty! I can't really watch this anymore." His Rick groaned again. "Tag out. Morticia, you go in. Take care of that bitch!" The girl stepped forward, looking more determined than ever. Obviously, that flirtatious attitude of the other female Morty was something that Morticia took personally. 'There's no way that that cheap whore is going to beat me!' she thought with envy clearly flashing in her eyes. The space siren noticed it easily and giggled sweetly in amusement. This in turn made the brunette narrow her eyes even more. The tension between the two girls became quickly thick enough that you could cut it with a knife. "Oouuuh, a real cat fight!" Super Fan Morty suddenly started to blurt out. "The only thing that would make it better would be if there was mud in the arena." "Hah! I agree with that." Miami Rick commented from his side of the field. Rick C-137 looked at both his opponent and his own Morty weirdly. "…I would agree, too…if those two were hot chicks instead of Mortys." The girls didn't take any notice about the conversation that was going on about them. They were still too busy staring each other down. Quick as a flash, Morticia was the first one to strike. The Mortaion Morty blocked her punch with her arm as if it was nothing. Seems like the siren wasn't just all looks. She proved it further by dealing a punch to the yellow-shirted girl. A heated fight broke out in which fists flew and kicks were dealt out in almost rapid succession. Somewhere in between the girls even started to use cheap methods like scratching and hair pulling. It was quite a mess to watch. Despite the even hits, it soon began to look like Morticia was the one on the losing end. She was in a really bad shape, littered with scratch marks and bruises and panting rather heavily while her opponent still looked mostly fine if you ignored her disheveled hair. Still, the brunette swore to herself that she wouldn't back down and win this match. So, she concentrated all of her remaining strength in her one last move. Quick as a bee she lunged at the Mortaion Morty. The other almost burst out laughing, thinking that her opponent's aim was completely off. However, it wasn't since Morticia hadn't tried to hit the alien girl. It was something that the green-skinned siren only noticed after it was already too late. The Mortys and even the Ricks blushed at the view. Mortaion Morty screeched in a high pitch as she covered herself with her arms. Morticia had grabbed her skimpy clothes and managed to tear them off, completely exposing the other. Blinded by humiliation, the alien suddenly fled from the battle arena while still screaming loudly. "So, that's what you meant with trap…" Morty C-137 mumbled, brows furrowing. "H-Hey! Wait a second!!" Miami Rick called after his escaping Morty, but it was no use. Since he was still in the middle of a battle, he also couldn't just chase after her. He sighed and groaned sarcastically. "Great…" After all the trouble, he went through to catch one of those… "Well, no helping it." His posture was back to normal again. "Guess it's your turn now, Super Unicorn Morty." The impressive, tall and muscular Morty with the long pink and blue mane stepped forward now. Since Morticia had been weakened a lot in her battle, Rick C-137 decided to switch her out. "Come back here, Morticia. Shadow Morty, you go out there and win us that badge!" He was actually convinced that the specter might be enough to finish this entire arena fight. After all the ghost-like Morty was almost undefeated. The pretty Morty on the enemy side still looked as relaxed as ever. Rick C-137 thought that the unicorn might even be high. Not that it mattered. If anything, this would make the fight probably even easier for them. "Shadow Morty, use one of your dark and creepy attacks. Wha-what-whatever they're called." He ordered. Obediently, the shade went forward with the intent to deal some deadly damage to his opponent. Super Unicorn Morty didn't even attempt to evade the oncoming attack. Maybe the drugs in his system made him oblivious to the danger that he was currently facing. At least that was what Rick C-137 had thought until Shadow Morty lashed out and… nothing. The unicorn wasn't bothered because he seemed to know that it would deal no damage to him. That was odd. How was that even possible? Miami Rick cackled in delight, clearly having expected this. "Ha ha ha! Didn't you know that light beats darkness? Time to use your rainbow powers, Super Unicorn Morty!" In an instant, the powerful Morty began to attack. The pink horn on his forehead started to spin like a drill and shot rainbow-colored laser beams at the specter. Shadow Morty shrieked in pain and immediately went to hide behind his Rick's back. "Oh, c'mon. You can't be serious!" he looked in disbelieve at the odd and magical creature and then to the frightened shadowy phantom behind his back. It was obvious that trying to send out Shadow Morty again would only end in failure and since Morty and Morticia were already out for the count it left him with only one choice. "Guess there's no helping it. We're tagging out. It's your turn now, Super Morty Fan Morty." He said with little enthusiasm. "Really, Rick? I can? Can I?" the fanboy asked excitedly and jumped up and down. Apparently, he was very delighted to be facing the pretty Morty. Rick C-137 was unsure if that was a good sign or not, but he had hope that this Morty would win him at least this battle. What to do with the remaining Morty that still stood waiting beside his Rick was something that he would think about when the time for it came. Even if he were short on Mortys, maybe a miracle would occur today no matter how little the scientist believed in such things like fate and wondrous happenings. As it was, he could only watch the delirious version of his grandson enter the battleground now. The Super Fan immediately hugged the other Morty around the middle who was again completely unimpressed. Still, the fanboy only continued to hug. Miami Rick laughed again. "What? Is that all that your Morty can do?" Rick C-137 felt embarrassed beyond believe because apparently that was the only thing that his Morty would do. "Super Fan, attack him properly, will you!" he yelled clearly frustrated. "Nooo. I don't wanna." The crazy Morty argued back. "He's just too pretty. And just look at all those gold handprints on his body. Can I touch them, too?" Rick only slapped a hand on his face while the gym leader guffawed loudly. Super Unicorn Morty still looked as calm as ever and awaited further orders from his trainer who was too busy trying to catch his breath again. Miami Rick actually had to hold his pained side and wiped tears from his underneath his shades. For as strong as a Morty like the super unicorn was, he sadly was too dumb to actually act on his own so he still continued to wait and just ignored the fanboy that was still clinging to him. "Oh, hey! Hey! Can I take a selfie with you?" Super Fan asked his opponent and dug around in his pocket for his mobile. Rick C-137 was at a loss for words and Miami Rick almost died of laughter since the battle became only more hilarious. He was suddenly interrupted though as his mobile phone began to ring. Quickly calming down again, he ignored the ongoing battle that he had and answered. "Hello, Rick speaking?" "Where the heck are you, Daddy?" a voice which sounded like that of a Morty immediately started to bitch on the other end. "Sorry, Princess, but I'm currently very busy." He replied. Being distracted by the call, he almost didn't notice what went down on the battleground.

Super Morty Fan Morty finally found his own mobile and proceed to take a selfie with his opponent. Upon taking the photo, the sudden flash blinded the unicorn and made him momentarily dizzy.

Rick C-137 perked up at that and saw the perfect chance to land a hit on the enemy.

Being quick on his feet about it, he shouted. "Quick, Morty Fan! Glomp hug him!"

Now that was an order that the fanboy could follow and he tackled his enemy who fell to the ground.

"Shit! Morty!" Miami Rick yelled, noticing that the other side managed to land a hit on them.

Immediately a voice on the other end of his mobile started to yell.

Rick talked back into his phone. "What? No, not you!"

Seeing that his opponent was still distracted, C-137 continued to attack.

If the other didn't fight back it wasn't his problem.

"Morty Fan, choke hug him!" He commanded with a big grin on his face since the tables had turned now.

His Morty followed through with it swiftly.

Surprisingly his hug was really strong enough to make Super Unicorn Morty fight for air.

"Goddammit!" Miami Rick cursed. "Princess, I'm kinda busy right now… what? No. I'm not in the middle of another drug deal right now!"

C-137 just didn't leave his opponent a chance for a comeback.

"Just squeeze the air out of him." He said, not even bothering trying to come up with a different attack pattern.

While Miami Rick was still in a discussion with his original Morty on the other end who insisted that he came back home to him right now, he could only helplessly watch as his strongest Morty lost consciousness and was therefore unable to continue the fight.

The man could only groan and nodded towards his last standing Morty.

Seeing, as Turbulent Juice Morty didn't seem to get the gesture, he said, "Drag Unicorn out of the ring and get in there."

The blond followed suite and picked his unconscious comrade up to place him next to the dizzy Sexy Devil Morty before taking the Unicorn's place.

"Now use your muscles to squash him, Morty! No! Again, I don't mean you, Princess!"

Rick C-137 actually feared that they might lose the last battle as the tanned and muscular Morty approached the fanboy and tried to squish him in his arms.

Surprisingly the Morty Fan took it rather well though.

"Oh, you wanna hug, too?" he said slightly breathless and wiggled around enough so that he could hug his opponent back.

C-137 wasn't sure if he should be amazed or just plain weirded out by his latest catch. The Morty really had a displaced view of reality as long as it involved other Mortys, didn't he?

Nonetheless, since Miami Rick was still on his phone and trying to pacify Miami Morty, he had to try to use this chance to turn this battle into his favor again.

However, it seemed that his lucky star had burned out because no matter how good Super Fan Morty had held up against his opponent in the end he was still crimped with such a force that he eventually lost consciousness.

"Ugh, it would have been too good to be true…" Rick groaned as the now dizzy Morty was carelessly dropped on the ground.

He looked over at his team again.

His original Morty was clearly out of it and in no condition to fight.

Morticia might have been able to go for a bit longer, but she was also too badly wounded so using her would be pretty pointless.

That only left Shadow Morty who had been wounded by Super Unicorn Morty's attack and still looked quite frightened, but was the only one in the condition to battle.

"Well, Shadow Morty. Looks like it's your turn to try again." He said and motioned with his head towards the still standing enemy.

The specter still looked out of it and only reluctantly floated back into the ring again.

Morticia meanwhile had been kind enough to pick up the Morty Fan and drag him next to Morty C-137.

The ghostly Morty floated unsure back and forth in front of the enemy.

"What the heck are you waiting for?! Just attack the other Morty!" C-137 yelled.

Shadow Morty ignored the order and looked like he was too scared to approach his opponent.

Miami Rick then found the time between his call to order Turbulant Juice Morty to attack. "Just crush this one like the other Morty!"

Then he was back to discussing with his dialogue partner on the phone who started to quip again over one thing or another.

The tall blond Morty followed the command and approached the tiny floating shade.

Shadow Morty screeched in fright as his enemy tried to grab him but passed through.

Both looked at each other dumbly.

The phantom-like Morty blinked before he seemed to overcome his fear and rose up above till he was hovering over his opponent.

With his confidence back intact, the specter expanded like a stormy raincloud and encased his enemy.

Both Ricks were gaping as they watched the whole scene unfold in front of their eyes.

Thunder was emanating from the shadowy cloud as dark spiked tendrils rained down on the confused Turbulent Juice Morty.

After everything was over, Shadow Morty returned to his previous form and returned to his Rick's side, content now after he had gotten his revenge on the enemy side for scaring him as they had.

"What the heck…?" Miami Rick could only muttered and almost dropped his phone as he looked at his defeated Morty.

Again, the voice of his original Morty piped up on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on the way." He answered and finally hung up.

As C-137 marched towards him, he threw the badge over to him and grabbed his portal gun.

He first opened a portal for team C-137 and then one for himself since he had to get back to his

princess

immediately.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" C-137 mocked.

"Mind your own fucking business." Miami Rick replied with a frown and then was gone.

His beaten Mortys were left behind forgotten.

"Um, should we bring them to the Healing Center?" Morty C-137 asked as he looked down on the defeated opponents while clutching at his own wounds.

"Nah. We'd probably only get in trouble if we do, since those aren't my Mortys." Rick replied and took a swig from his flask again. He had been too preoccupied in the battle to think about his alcohol and really needed a drink now.

"You don't want our asses getting hauled into prison because we've been accused of stealing another Rick's Mortys, do you?" he asked as he saw that his grandson was still staring pitifully at the other injured Mortys.

Morty sighed, but agreed with his Rick and followed him through the portal that would bring them back to the Citadel.

Of course, that didn't mean that he was okay with what they were doing.

The system that all of those Ricks had built was truly fucked up.

Morty K-4872 huffed as he walked away from Dirty Rick's counter in the entrance hall of Morty Games. His Rick had been waiting close by the entrance with crossed arms and folding one leg over the other as he casually leaned against the wall. As he saw his Morty approaching, he arched his eyebrow and asked, "You done here?" "I can't get anything out of him…" the boy replied, his eyes downcast. He had tried to pry for information, but that Rick was a sly one who didn't even slip up a little. Morty K-4872 had tried every little trick in the book, used everything that he had learned in the time that he had spent with his mentor and gone through every intimidation tactic that was available to him and yet, he got nothing out of him. Obviously, the innocent front that the Rick had put up was completely fake – his nickname was Dirty Rick for a reason and his appearance practically spelled out that he was shady. However, there was no way for Morty to get the information that he wanted. Not even bribing seemed to work. "So you are done here?" Rick K-4872 asked for confirmation again. "I'm at my ropes end here, Rick! I'm sure the guy does know something, but I just can't make him spill the beans!" the boy almost shouted in his frustration. He didn't want to leave yet. Not until he had done his investigation of this Rick properly. However, he also couldn't whip out a gun at this place and demand answers from him. He'd be kicked out by the security and probably even arrested because owning an unauthorized gun at the Citadel was illegal and the only Ricks and Mortys who were allowed to carry weapons were the police force and the military. So, he saw no chance to proceed here. There was nothing left for him to try. He really hit a dead-end this time… "Okay, I get it. You're donesies." Rick said and stood up straight. Morty wanted to protest that they couldn't just leave like this, but to his surprise his grandfather and mentor didn't move to leave, but started to walk in the direction of the counter where he had just come from. Without looking back at his grandson, he said, "I know, I said that I'll let you handle the entire investigation and I wouldn't intervene with it, but it looks like a Morty can't get any further than this…" '…so we have to use other methods now. Rick methods.' He continued to think as he approached Rick D-9. Morty could only look with wide eyes as his mentor talked with the suspect and they seemed to go along pretty well if Dirty Rick's laughs were any indication. His grandfather then came back and without another word left. Morty followed quickly behind him as he noticed it. "W-what did he say? Could you find something out?" he stuttered while trying to keep up with the other's long strides. Still not answering, Rick leaned against the wall at the far corner of the Morty Games building and lit a cig. This attitude confused Morty and he decided to give his grandfather a little more time to answer. However as he noticed that he wouldn't get one and Rick only calmly continued to smoke, he got irritated. Just as he wanted to shout something at his mentor, Rick stood straight once again, looked back to the entrance and threw his half-smoked cigarette to the floor before vanishing around the corner. Following the other's gaze, he could see that Dirty Rick was approaching them, but he completely ignored Morty and also vanished around the same corner. The boy's eyebrows drew together and he also followed the men, not wanting to be left out of the action. The action was already going on though as he came around the corner and saw how his Rick had pushed the other against the wall and held him up by the scruff of his shirt. "I hope you can give us the information we want now?" Rick K-4872 asked, his face so close to the other that their noses were almost touching as he glowered. "W-wat? I-I dunno a'thin, buddy. R-really." Rick D-9 said, lifting up his hands in a defensive motion and putting on a fake smile again. "Fine. If you don't wanna talk, I guess I'll just have to make you!" With those words, he was starting to beat the living daylights out of the other Rick. Morty was shocked at what unfolded before his very eyes. He had never seen his grandfather look as menacing as that and this and his violent behavior actually scared him. Usually his grandfather was so calm and calculating – the perfect example of being in complete control of himself – so it was really unnerving to see him act like this. In the darkness and solitude of the little alley, no one would come to Dirty Rick's rescue and all three people present knew it. That's why Dirty Rick eventually gurgled out a little response that sounded like "S-stop… I'll tell ya…" "Oh, so you do know something now?" Rick K-4872 spat and stopped beating up his victim, but still held onto the scruff of his now bloody shirt. "I a'mit it. I've work'd fur Rick A-66, but I swear I only sold thems drugz once and I dunno where'z he at now!" "What?! That's not what I wanted to know! I want to know about the Mortys!" Dirty Rick looked slightly disoriented for a moment, but as the other raised his fist again, he started to speak up. "Okay—okay! I'll tell ya. We get te Mortyz from Day Care. It'z te onez that're assigned to Boot Camp trainin 'cause dat way we can beat t'o birdz wiz one stone." He hastily answered. Rick K-4872 looked irritated "What do you mean with that?" "I mean dat they're get theirz trainin and we have Mortyz dat we can lend out fur te battlez. But dun tell no one dat you had thiz from me." Dirty Rick knew that his boss would have his head if he knew that he just leaked out confidential information. This wasn't exactly something that anyone should really find out about… Dirty Rick was drawn out of his thoughts by a kick in the crotch. "That's not what I wanted to know! I wanted to know about the Morty sex trafficking. I don't care how far you're involved in that shit, I just want names or addresses. Just spill it already!!" Rick K-4872 wondered if he was trying to take him for some kind of schmuck. Why would he want to know where Morty Games got the Mortys that they were lending out for the tournaments? Unless those were further sold off to any brothels that information was completely irrelevant to him. "I dunno a'thin 'bout dat." Dirty Rick answered. Apparently that was the wrong answer because Rick K-4872 started to beat him up again, hitting with such a force that he nearly broke bones despite their special metallic coating, which made them sturdier. Ricks got those enhancements for a reason… Morty winced as he watched, but didn't dare to intervene. After all, he was the one, who wanted that information and if this was the only way to make that Rick talk then he wouldn't stop his grandfather. After the sound of some cracking – definitely the enhanced bones – Dirty Rick gurgled out another response again. "You remember something now?!" Rick K-4872 yelled as he stopped hitting his victim again. "List'n! I really dunno a'thin 'bout thez Morty kidnappinz!" Rick D-9 whimpered. Just as the other lifted his fist again, he quickly added, "B-but I can tell ya sum interestin information that mighta help ya find te culprit." "And what information would that be?" the glasses wearing Rick asked, not looking convinced. "It'z about te owner of Morty Inc. Pretty sure he'z got sumthin to do wiz it. Ya'll think so, too, after I'll tell ya wat kinda guy he iz…"

Bonus: In dimension C-899, a certain Jellybean was hiding behind some bushes. He wore a yellow baseball cap and other Morty merchandise. How he came here or why he was even still alive was something that no one could answer… "Hehehe. I've heard that a naked Morty was running around in this dimension." He whisper-talked and rubbed his hands together in glee. As soon as he had heard of that he had come to this dimensions and been lurking in the hopes of catching that Morty. He perked up as he heard sounds of running and got ready to jump out of the bushes to surprise the Morty. Just as something moving came into sight, he leaped up and tried to catch it. The Mortaion Morty screeched as someone jumped in her way and she bashed and kicked her (attempted) assaulter. After her opponent was on the ground, she stomped over him and continued to run while still trying to cover up her exposed body. Mr. Jellybean laid in a heap on the ground. His sticky green blood was pooling around him and his body was dotted in blotches of black and blue from all the bruises he received. The candy-like creature looked thoroughly crushed and bashed in and didn't move anymore…

AN: Lame bonus, I know. But take it as a little homage to the now removed Mr. Jellybean in the game.

Part 11 of Entricked Fates

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Part 1 of Entricked Fates: Gotta Catch Me Some Morty

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 2 of Entricked Fates: Mortyfied and Rickfused

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 3 of Entricked Fates: Ricking the Routine

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 4 of Entricked Fates: Ricks will always be Ricks

oneshot

Part 5 of Entricked Fates: The Morty-Lover

oneshot

Part 6 of Entricked Fates: Second Chances AKA The Rick One For Me

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part 7 of Entricked Fates: Rickvestigating the Morty Disappearances

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Part 8 of Entricked Fates: When the Morty’s away, the Rick will play

oneshot

Part 9 of Entricked Fates: It’s Not His Ricking Fault!

oneshot

Part 10 of Entricked Fates: I Ricking Hate My Life!

oneshot

Part 12 of Entricked Fates: The Mortys and their Stories

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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