Burhan_Malik

A Different Kind of Morty


Viktor lived his life the way only a man like him could. A soldier who fought in shadows, a man who understood emotions without ever feeling them. Cold, calculating—yet somehow endlessly charismatic. The kind of man who made people trust him, fear him, follow him… all without knowing why.

He did unspeakable things in the name of his country, left a trail of stories that never made it to the news. And when his time was up—he expected nothing more than a quiet end.

But instead…

He woke up in someone else’s life.

Morty Smith.
Sixteen. Awkward. Average.
Except… not anymore.

Viktor doesn’t wear Morty’s face like a mask. He is Morty now—his voice, his habits, his fate. And if this world expects the same nervous wreck they’ve always known… it’s about to learn how wrong they are.

Because Viktor has no intention of playing along.
He doesn’t bluff.
He doesn’t warn.
He simply acts.

A new Morty walks into Rick Sanchez’s world—a Morty who isn’t afraid to step off the path fate tried to write for him.

And whether it’s family dinners, school bullies, or multiverse tyrants…

They won’t see him coming.


Because Viktor Barinov doesn’t feel fear. He doesn’t feel love. all he knows is manipulation

Rick and Morty: Smartest Morty in the multiverse

Morty stepped out of the kitchen, the calm of his movements slicing through the soft hum of the hallway. His footfalls were light, deliberate the measured steps of a man who didn't need to look back.

He didn't make it three paces before Rick stepped out of the living room and cut across his path.

No sound. No announcement. Just Rick… there.

Blocking the hallway like he'd been waiting. Like this was inevitable.

Morty stopped. Didn't blink. Didn't flinch.

Rick's arms hung loose by his sides casual, too casual. His face slack, eyes half-lidded behind the glint of bottle-green pupils that didn't miss a single goddamn detail.

They stood there two heartbeats too long.

Then Rick spoke. Low. Measured. Voice dipped in that lazy sarcasm that always came with a loaded chamber behind it.

"Little late for kitchen heart-to-hearts, huh?"

"Didn't know you had a habit of staring down your mom like she's the last drink at the bar."

Morty tilted his head, the faintest flick of amusement touching his eyes.

Rick leaned in, slow, that sharp edge sliding under his words like a thin blade.

"Yeah. She is." His voice dipped. "But you're still my grandson."

Morty smiled small, sharp, nothing soft in it.

Rick's gaze hardened just a notch. The air between them thinned, stretched taut like a wire pulled to the snapping point.

Morty's voice stayed smooth. Even.

"You want to say something, Rick… or are you just here for the dramatic stare-down?"

Rick leaned closer, close enough for Morty to smell the faint tang of alcohol under his breath, though his eyes stayed razor clear.

"I'm here… because you don't talk to your mom like that. Not in my house."

Rick's mouth flattened into a line.

"You wanna play games with me, Morty?"

They stood locked inches apart. A standoff carved in silence and steel.

Rick studied him. Really studied him. Eyes flicking over every inch the calm set of Morty's jaw, the steadiness in his eyes, the utter lack of twitch, stammer, or flinch.

Something crawled at the edge of Rick's gut. A warning.

Or maybe it was just cracked open wide enough for something else to crawl through.

Rick leaned back half a step slow, deliberate. He let a smirk ghost his face.

"Careful, kid. You start walking like a man, people are gonna start expecting you to die like one."

Morty's eyes flickered not anger. Not fear. Amusement.

Rick's gaze sharpened a flicker of something darker moving behind his half-lidded stare.

"Cute." He stepped aside, just enough for Morty to pass. "Let's see how long cute lasts."

Morty moved smooth, precise stepping past him with a calm so quiet it echoed in the space he left behind.

But just before he cleared Rick's side, he turned his head, voice low, soft as a whisper against the air between them.

"You're not as subtle as you think, Rick."

Rick's lips curved — thin, sharp.

Rick stood there, watching him go eyes narrowing, mouth tightening.

This was intense to say the least l rewrite it at least three times before l was satisfied so leave a comment and a stone

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