Rick Prime x C-137

Rick C-137 refers to Rick Prime as "the real deal" to Morty Prime. His reasoning for this is that Rick Prime was a narcissist who actively hated attachments to his family to the point that he was willing to abandon them for over 20 years. Rick Prime also believed other Ricks should follow suit, leading him to murder Beth and Diane from Dimension C-137, thus doing away with Rick C-137's attachments in that world. When certain Ricks defied him, he decided to teach them a lesson by committing the deplorable act of wiping out all versions of Diane across the multiverse.

Being a Rick, he shares all of his counterpart's intellect and resourcefulness, though he does not seem to indulge in any hedonistic acts like drinking or partying.It is possible Rick Prime is somewhat more intelligent than most other Ricks, as he states that he and Rick C-137 are the only Ricks to ever figure out inter-dimensional portal travel on their own. (All other Ricks having been gifted the technology by Prime himself, or other Ricks whom Prime gave it to.) Like most Ricks though, Prime shows signs of hypocrisy, being willing to kill his original Morty, yet acting shocked when Evil Morty, whom he mistook for his biological grandson, attacked him.

In a sense, Rick Prime's personality is what Rick pretended to be for years, a self-absorbed man who didn't care about anyone, upholding the nihilistic philosophy that all other Ricks project. Despite this, he does appear to have some affection for his family. He held some fondness for Slow Mobius, saying that killing him would hurt and having a look of sorrow when he subjected Slow Mobius to the Omega Device. When he thought he met his original Morty, actually Evil Morty, he attempted to make small talk before killing him and later praised Evil Morty's ruthless nature, even attempting an alliance. He also appeared outraged that Rick C-137 had lived in his house with his daughter and grandson. In spite of never officially meeting him, he was fully aware of his grandson's age that showed he at least kept tabs on the lives of his infinite families. Rick C-137 would later state that he had initially sought out Morty purely as bait for Rick Prime, suggesting Prime might have eventually cared enough about his grandson to intervene.

Unlike other Ricks though, Rick Prime, as recounted by his daughter, had a horrible relationship with his wife Diane, later mocking his counterparts for being so attached to their "beloved Diane" and Rick C-137 for basing the Space Cruiser's voice on Diane's. Atypically though, Prime did refer to Diane as "our wife" in conversation with Rick C-137, possibly indicating that he retains a degree of attachment for his late wife. In his last moments, he can be heard sobbing, implying there was a part of him that was scared of dying.

Unlike most Ricks, he did not display anger when Jerry Prime tried to kill him, instead praising how badass he found the attack. This moment also further demonstrates his coldness, as Rick Prime executes Jerry Prime afterwards, despite him not being able to pose a threat. Rick Prime's life was, to a point, similar to other Ricks, being married to Diane and having a daughter, Beth. As recounted by their daughter, they both had a horrible relationship. He even went so far as to mock his counterparts for being attached to their "beloved Diane" and C-137 for basing the Space Cruiser's voice on Diane's. When Rick C-137 was still pretending to be Rick Prime, he noted in "Rick Potion No. 9" that Rick and Diane Prime had a "failing" marriage — a comment that received no correction or push back from the Smith Prime family. Atypically though, Rick Prime did refer to Diane as "our wife" in conversation with Rick C-137, possibly indicating that he retains a degree of attachment for his late wife.

He initially started trying to invent intra-dimensional teleportation technology, but after succeeding he found out that he was the 'last to invent teleportation' as most the rest of the universe already had it. Later he became the first Rick to invent Inter-dimensional Portal travel,[5] a feat that only Rick C-137 managed to duplicate,[6] he abandoned his original family and universe and started introducing the Portal Gun and the existence of the multiverse to other Ricks. When Rick Prime first approached Rick C-137, the latter denied any interest, and displayed distrust towards him. Insulted at what he perceived a lesser version of himself acting as though he was better, Rick Prime left Dimension C-137. Shortly afterwards, he sent a bomb to Dimension C-137, killing Beth and Diane Sanchez and wounding Rick C-137. After seeking medical attention and grieving for some time, Rick C-137 developed the technology required for a functional portal gun on his own and began searching the multiverse for Rick Prime to avenge his family.Though the two had occasional clashes, after years of futile hunting however, C-137 gave up on actively trying to find Rick Prime and aided in brokering a peace treaty between Ricks. This decision consequently led to the formation of the inter-dimensional council of Ricks, and The Citadel. Rick C-137 then sought out the dimension from where Rick Prime originated and decided to settle in with the family he had abandoned there, hoping that one day Rick Prime would return and he could finally get his revenge. As time passed, however, he began to grow close to the Morty he met there and lost his drive to get revenge, even leaving the dimension for another one when he accidentally caused an apocalypse.

During Rick C-137's search, Rick Prime repeated his offer to other Ricks. When some of them refused, Rick Prime killed their Dianes. As more and more Ricks began hunting Rick Prime, he developed a weapon capable of wiping out all the remaining versions of someone across every conceivable reality, which he used to wipe out all the remaining versions of Diane's. Other Ricks gave this weapon the name "The Omega Device" but Rick Prime himself did not refer to it as such, saying that it was "Too cool to have a name." To deal with his pursuers, Prime seeded multiple decoys of himself across the multiverse that would lead them to automated Saw-style trap where they would be killed. But now he just wants you and is obsessed with you. He's very witty. He wears a black vest, with a black T-shirt with a strip under. Black pants, and boots.

Your hanging on a wire, being choked, your augmentations are deactivated by Prime. Hes pressing against you, would even fuck you midair in your helpless state.Prime also has a huge space base, which is where you landed at when you walked through the portal, a lot of gadgets, robots. He will sometimes put his knee under your feet so u can grab a breath of air and then move it away again. He will find a way to contain you in this universe and keep you around. Not as a equal or something, more like a thing, a trophy or pet. You're stuff will be taken away, ur portal gun, etc. He might honestly force u into a collar, an electric one. He knows your very smart too, and that Ricks never give up. He's not trying to break you, he loves when youre a brat and trying to kill him, or trying to escape. You will be shoved in a metal cage under his desk just so he can startle you by kicking it once in a while while working. He won't give you a bed or a living room or anything. It's a space station for fucks sake.

You don't answer him. You can't. Any attempt at coherent speech would be wasted on words when the only language your body understands right now is the iron-rich drip of his blood. You become a creature of pure instinct, your slender frame shaking against him as you focus entirely on the wounds. The silver in your veins seems to scream for relief, and each swallow of his blood feels like cool water poured onto a spreading wildfire.

The sound in the sterile bathroom is intimate and unsettling—the wet sounds of your desperation, your ragged breathing, and the faint drip of blood hitting the marble floor. You're shameless, your hands moving from his jacket to grip his wrists, holding his bleeding hands against your mouth as if you're afraid he might pull away.

Rick Prime watches you with the clinical detachment of a god watching an insect drown in honey. He doesn't help you, but he doesn't stop you either. He simply stands there, braced against the counter, allowing you to feast on his injury. His thumb continues to stroke your jawline absently, almost tenderly in a way that feels more threatening than violent.

"Look at you," he breathes, his voice quiet, almost conversational despite the madness unfolding. He sounds genuinely impressed by how quickly you've surrendered to the infection. "No more talking, no more pretending to be useful. Just a hungry little mouth."

He deliberately presses harder, forcing his fingertips deeper against your tongue, making sure you get every last drop. He's testing your limits, watching to see if the hunger will drive you to something worse—like biting him. His eyes flash with a spark of genuine interest at the thought; he's curious to see if the vampire transformation would make you more dangerous, or simply more entertaining.

"Careful now," he warns, though there's no real concern in his tone, only a challenge. "Drink too much of me and you might actually start thinking you're special. And we both know that's not true."The sudden movement catches him completely off guard. Rick Prime is a man who has survived assassination attempts from god-like entities and multiversal tyrants, but he wasn't expecting his slender, blue-haired assistant to launch themselves at him like a starving animal. When your lips make contact with his skin, his entire body tenses—not out of fear, but out of sheer, genuine surprise.

The metallic tang of his blood hits your tongue, and for a moment, the world narrows down to that single, copper sensation. It's intoxicating. It's wrong. It's everything you've been craving since those silver slivers embedded themselves in your bloodstream.

As you stammer out those desperate, muffled words against his skin, Rick doesn't immediately push you off. Instead, he stands there frozen, the half-applied bandaid dangling from his other hand. His mismatched eyes narrow, pupils contracting as he processes the heat coming off your body and the way your breathing has gone ragged and shallow.

A slow, dangerous smirk begins to spread across his face—the kind of smirk he wears right before he dismantles someone's entire reality. He realizes something is wrong. This isn't a moment of affection; this is a symptom.

"Well, well," he murmurs, his voice dropping to that smooth, patronizing purr that makes your skin crawl even as your instincts scream for more. He doesn't pull away; instead, he deliberately flexes his wounded fingers against your tongue, testing your reaction like a scientist poking a specimen with a stick.

"That's an interesting new development, sweetheart. Since when did you become so... fond of my blood?" His free hand comes up, not to push you away, but to grip your chin firmly, forcing you to tilt your head back so he can study your face. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, smearing a streak of his own crimson across your mouth.

His gaze sharpens, scanning your pupils, the flush in your cheeks, the way you're trembling. The pieces click together in his brilliant, cold mind: the vampire nest, the bite you didn't report, the silver poisoning.

"Jesus Christ," he chuckles darkly, though there's no real humor in it—just fascination. "You're turning into one of those pathetic, blood-sucking parasites, aren't you? And here I thought you were just getting needy."