#and whatever the fuck is going on with our defensive shape since the subs is worse
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safe to say whatever experiments ETH is trying with our lineup today have not worked
#scott in front of bruno was a disaster#and whatever the fuck is going on with our defensive shape since the subs is worse
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Compatibility
Note: I’ve had some stuff weighing heavy on my mind recently and what better way to mentally escape than write cheesy breeding smut? So, here you go. This has actually been sitting in my google docs as a draft for AGES and I’m glad it’s finally free.
Compatibility
(Kitty Rick x Reader)
NSFW -- 1680 words. Dom/sub elements, heavy emphasis of breeding.
(FYI: This story is a continuation of His, Anchor and Heat which can be found in the Rick Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.)
*****
True to his word, as Rick carried me toward his bedroom, it continued for days and I truly hadn’t the slightest clue what I was in for when I’d encouraged him to give in to his instincts. Occasionally, we’d pause to eat, drink or sleep. But, other than that, we remained tangled in a knot of limbs, tussling about on the rumpled mattress until every muscle in my body ached and I felt that just one more orgasm may put me into a coma.
However, that wasn’t to say that I hadn’t enjoyed myself… immensely. Especially considering that, as I became more and more exhausted, Rick seemed to become more and more dominate; directing me, positioning me, overpowering me. And, it was glorious. Because, no matter how I tried to assure him in the past that I would always yield to him, he seemed to cage himself – refuse himself the luxury of the willing pet he’d always desired – and halted shy of the domination that he so obviously craved. That is, until now.
“Rick – oh fuck,” I panted, lying face down on the mattress, covered in sweat. He hovered above me, nuzzling and nipping at the nape of my neck. As much as I wanted to ask him to stop, I never wanted it to end. But, I was in dire need of a shower and I told him so while attempting to roll over on my back.
“No,” he commanded before clamping his jaws on the junction of my neck and shoulder, holding me fast.
“Why?” I managed to squeak while attempting not to struggle beneath him.
“Because I need – I’m trying to breed you, baby,” he stated, matter-of-factly for the first time since this fuck-a-thon began and it rendered me absolutely boneless.
“Breed? Wha – what do you mean, breed?”
“Mmm, sweetheart. You know exactly what I mean,” he cooed in my ear. But, I remained perfectly still and quiet, allowing him to elaborate further. “I’m gonna fill you up, my pet. Don’t you want that? Fill you up with a litter of our own, hmmm?”
“Oh my god,” I moaned, pressing my face to the mattress. I hadn’t the slightest idea if it were even possible for him to impregnate me. Would our DNA be compatible? What would a cat man/human woman hybrid even look like? Had it happened before? All these questions flashed through my head while Rick’s claws grazed down my back, tracing the outline of my spine before gripping my hips; lifting and positioning me the way he liked best.
“Rick?” I asked, my voice strained as I felt the plush head of his dick pressing into me from behind for the – how many times had it been already? The slight sting of raw flesh didn’t deter my desire, rather it served to spur it on. But, that word continued to ring in my ears.
Breed.
Breed.
Breed.
A litter of our own.
Being the clever feline he is, he sensed my hesitation and could clearly picture his hackles rising in my mind’s eye.
“Wha – w-w-what’s the problem?” I was correct. His voice now held a harsh edge that was unmistakable – he was on the defensive. “You don’t want that, huh?” His claws pricked my skin as he dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of my hips. I sucked a breath between my clenched teeth, unsure of how to respond. However, he didn’t give me the opportunity. “Well, you know what – guess what, sweetheart – you don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”
With that final sentence, the harsh edge of his tone was replaced with a dominant playfulness that he reserved only for me and I felt myself relax ever so slightly. Even though he may have been serious in his intention to ‘breed’ me, he knew the exact way to go about it to ensure my compliance.
“Isn’t that right?” he asked, snapping me from the inner monologue that seemed to constantly be playing in my head. Arching over my back, his silken fur glided across my heated skin and I shivered as his textured tongue lapped at the shell of my ear from behind. “Answer me. Say ‘yes, Rick’.”
“Yes, Rick.”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed, pressing his chest to my back; his dick sliding across my ass in the way he knew drove me crazy and I pressed my face to the mattress once again to suppress a moan. “You belong to me, don’t you, my pet? I take care of you.” Pressing his furry muzzle to the sensitive flesh behind my ear, his wet nose left small damp patches across my skin. Goosebumps erupted in its wake and I felt him chuckle against my back, mingled with the deep rumble of his purr.
He did take care of me, in every way I could possibly need or want. In fact, since relinquishing my independence, I hadn’t harbored even one regret. My life was comfortable and easy and I honestly couldn’t image it any other way.
“Yes, Rick. I belong to you.”
With a deep growl that was almost tender, Rick tipped his body to the side until he flopped on the mattress, bringing me down with him. Then, before I could react or even giggle, he hooked my right arm behind his head, hoisting me further upward so that our heads were level, and hitched my right leg over his hip. Then, while pressing his muzzle directly behind my right ear, he snaked an arm between us, grasped his dick and slipped inside me with ease.
This position was new – and incredibly intimate; his already labored breaths, mingled with purrs, wafted across my sensitive flesh, sending goosebumps from my scalp to my toes. The comfortable sensation of fullness was already enough to rip the millionth moan from my throat, but when he grasped my hips in his paw-like hands and forcefully yanked me downward on his cock, I literally squealed. Gripping the comforter with my free hand and gripping his shoulder with the hand slung around his neck, I held on tightly in anticipation of his next move.
“Watch,” he demanded, vaguely.
Pinching my brow, my body began to tremble as the seconds ticked by with absolutely no movement. Finally, I was able to mumble a confused, “huh?”, before he pricked the flesh of my hips with his claws and elaborated –
“Watch yourself get fucked.” Hitching a breath I tipped my chin, shifted my gaze downward and locked on the place where our bodies connected. Once satisfied with my compliance, he slowly pulled my body upward – my pussy sliding along the length of his cock until just the tip remained – and then slammed it downward, harder than before. “Did – did you see that, hmm?” he asked as I whimpered. Don’t you – don’t look away.”
I wasn’t given an opportunity to protest – as if I would – or even reply. He simply repeated the lift and slam motion with my helpless body, harder and faster. With each upward pull, his cock emerged wet and glistening and with each downward thrust, it was completely engulfed. Soon, I was boneless and limp as a rag doll as Rick continued to manipulate my body and growl, lapping at the skin behind my ear with his textured tongue.
“Ah, fuck yeah. You like that? Y-y-you like seein’ that dick pound that tight snatch of yours, huh?”
I couldn’t speak – at least not coherently. Instead, my eyes threatened to roll back into my skull as the delicious pressure mounted with each pass of Rick’s cock over that soft, spongy patch of flesh.
“Keep watchin’, my pet. I-I-I want you to see that pussy cum all over my cock. Mmm, you’re close, yeah? Fuck, I – I’m gonna fill you up real nice.”
The words ‘fill you up’ had a double meaning that was not lost on me and I found myself welcoming the possibility. Even though I seriously doubted I had the ability to birth a ‘litter’ of… whatever type of offspring we’d produce, the idea of one – or possibly two – evoked a delightful warmth that began in the pit of my stomach and migrated downward at the exact moment the pressure snapped and pulsed outward in a blinding gush of ecstasy. Involuntarily my eyelids fluttered closed – finally breaking the intense gaze – as something akin to a moan poured from my mouth in the shape of “I love you, I love you, I love you!”
Seconds later, the welcome pressure of fangs on my bare shoulder yanked me back to reality as it intensified and punctured with a pop that I could feel more so than hear. Then, after a few more thrusts with faltered rhythm, Rick’s smothered shouts reverberated from my shoulder toward the center of my chest as he filled me up real nice, just as he promised.
----------
Hours later, I stared up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes, as I had since Rick dozed off with me pulled tightly to his chest. Lying on my side with both of his arms wrapped around my waist, his deep breaths wafted across the side of my face.
He hadn’t said it back.
He wanted to breed me… but couldn’t say IT back.
Or – was it really all just instinct fueled by the intense desire to hump any female in heat?
Realistically, there was no way our DNA was compatible enough to create a life. I knew this, deep down. No matter how many times he came inside me; no matter how much he insisted – it was impossible.
I was his pet. That was the agreement. That's what I signed up for. Not his mate. His pet.
With a deep sigh, I scooted closer, gliding my palms down his chest. The silken fur felt so good slipping between my fingers and his heat radiated like a furnace, giving us no need for additional cover. Content with the logical conclusion, I drifted to sleep.
The End.
#rick and morty#rick sanchez x reader#rick sanchez#fanfiction#kitty rick#cat rick#kitty rick x reader#cat rick x reader#compatibility
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Hive7 : Malevolent
The constantly updated post that might become a draft.
The story of Evjen Praxi, moneyed socialite and influent businessman of Hive7 The story of his army of underhiver agents and spies. And of course, the story of the eponymous Malevolent, his Guncutter shuttle custom built around the remains of a derelict Inquisition attack-ship.
P1
From orbit, Azoria shines in a blend of grey continents, small patches of dark and fouled toxic seas and a gargantuous, ever-shifting green mist, through which the spires of its hive cities and forges are clearly visible.
Elevated from Knight World to Forge World, Azoria is now one of the many industrious jewels within the great Imperium of Man. It is indeed a jewel, but one made of rust, dust, and toxic wastes.
A world with a slowly decaying magnetic field that jas allowed small amounts of its sun's deadly radiation to seep into the atmosphere. To remain anywhere outside of the shielded Hive Cities or industrial areas would be ill advised to say the least.
Although the radioactivity doesn’t render life impossible — yet — visitors and other guests are still advised to apply for medical treatments that will bolster their rad-resistance. Whether the purpose of those goes beyond bringing peace of mind to the outworld-travelers, remains unknown.
Most of the inhabitants of this world have developed over the millennia an uncanny resistance to their sun’s adverse effects but still, mutations, sickness and untimely deaths are all but too common for the indigent underhivers or wasterlanders.
Unlike those poor souls, Evjen Praxi did not lack the means to survive, for he has had the privilege of being born in a family of absurd wealth, leading a life of opulence and display thereof.
One's natural defenses could be engineered and bought with credits and Evjen always had more credits than he could care to count. The middle-aged man has been at the head of his parent’s legacy : Praxcorp, the single most powerful privately owned industrial group in the system with many ventures in the sub-sector’s commerce.
Evjen had seen his parents act unreservedly around nobles and have had government officials act obsequiously around them. During his youth, Evjen did not know of the misery reigning down below. Although he’s been born in a social sphere far removed from the suffering of the common people, when Evjen Praxi came of age, he made the choice to open his eyes wide and look upon the truth in humility.
A dour intention locked on his face, the green fires of the faraway furnaces reflecting in his deep grey and yellow iris, Evjen awaits a friend in the night. Seen from one of the gloomy private docking area of Hive7′s upper section, Azorian nights remain the same : made of dark above and of its terrible radioactive green mist down below, where the lights of the innumerable spires dim and vanish.
The air is as cold as it is rare outside above the clouds. Yet Evjen has made the choice of waiting there, in the relative seclusion of the anchoring platform. Only the revving engines of passing-by ships and the distant hum of power generators can be heard through the sharp wind that blows during the hours of darkness.
Leaning against the railing, Evjen is focusing on his senses, when he begins to hear a faint metallic tapping coming from behind, slowly gaining in intensity. Without moving he raises his voice : “Aerin“ he says, “I’m glad you could make the time”.
As he turns, he discovers the young woman, clad from head to toe in thermoregulative gear. “Why do we always have to meet up here?” she says, abrasively. “Why don’t you come down to me for a change? It would be just as safe for you as any of your beloved freezing perch”.
-“You know I can’t be seen in the lower levels, Aerin” Evjen scoffs. “Besides” he lightly punctuates while checking her out, “you don’t look like you need to be any warmer right now”.
Aerin instinctively looks down at her feet, trying to understand what could be wrong with her current attire. “Well, Evjen” she utters, insisting on his name to let him know that she had been slightly offended, “I am not one of you nobs or other well-offs.” as she positions herself to lean against the nearby structural pillar, she continues “I’m used to the warmth of the underbelly of this gigantic beast” she says, while tapping her hand on the pillar, referring to Hive7.
Evjen starts laughing.
Aerin laughs too, but only to get it over with.
The cold chills her down to her bones despite the thermosuit. She feels it all through her face which is left unprotected. Most underhivers like their climate hot and preferably a little humid too. She had been trembling since the moment she had stepped onto the platform.
“Aerin,” the middle-aged man says, “I need you.” the young woman forgets the cold for a moment, as the tone of Evjen piques her interest. “Not your reaction cell, just you” he added.
–“What’s the catch Ev?” she asks.
Evjen takes a breath and gulps “I need someone I can trust” he almost whispered. “and I need the best copilot in the system”.
Aerin isn’t immune to flattery, but even she knows that his assessment of her skills is not at all misguided. She tries to deflect the gravity of the request :
“Taking Mally out for a spin boss?” she asks.
–”Don’t call me that.” he replies, without animosity.
Aerin takes a few steps and switches from leaning against the pillar to joining Evjen at the railing. She considers the height of the potential fall while she produces a soft and indistinct utterance marking her considering his request. She had never been one to ask for much but in this case, she needs details.
“I’m not saying yes just yet, Ev. But why just me?” she asks.
– “I would go on my own if I didn’t have the option to ask you, Aerin,” Evjen confesses. “and before anything else, let me make this one thing clear ; feel free to say no.” he delivers, caught in a moment of self-confidence. “but, hear me out first”.
—”Alright.” she answers, with a hint of curiosity showing through.
–“You and I, Aerin, we are freedom fighters at heart. You understand the game we are playing here, you get the sort of position I’m in” he mumbles, with a defeated look.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’ve always stuck with my little operation out of conviction”. Evjen stands straight and looks over Aerin’s shoulder towards the airlock. He turns his gaze towards the other pier, on the other side of the gap of the empty anchorage area of the docking tower.
“I don’t trust anyone on my payroll”. he continues, in a serious tone. “There is no amount of credits or valuables that could keep the many dishonorable types from stabbing me in the back.” he hypothesises.
Aerin stands a moment in silence before responding : –”Why not trust my cell?” she asked. “They are every bit as loyal to our cause as I am.”
“They’re loyal to you, Aerin” Evjen replies. “It wouldn’t be fair to implicate them into this.”
Aerin reflects on Evjen’s opinion and as he was about to give some of the information she requested, she interrupted him :
“You know what, Ev? I don't want to know. I’ve got your back, like always.” she says. Evjen lets a sign of relief escape from the back of his eyes. “Whatever it is you need help with, I'll do it for the usual fee” she adds.
“Deal!” he says, while they shake hands on it. “Two levels up, opposite bay, you’ll find Mally. She’s ready. I’ll be right there”.
”You got it” she cheers, while walking away.
The fact is that the underhiver had already been picturing herself piloting Evjen’s Guncutter, which entailed the promise of thrilling sensations and possible mayhem on some unworthy, profiteering souls of this Imperial System. Aerin smiles in disbelief at her own excitement taking the decisions for her.
The airlock’s door at the end of the platform can be heard very faintly over the ever stronger winds of the night. The business man turns and stares into the dark corners of the docking bay.
He feels observed.
In the elevator, Aerin reflects on her impulsive consent. “Oh, shit!” she utters in resignation. She doesn’t even know the basic information of when, where, and why, let alone the details she had been meaning to ask.
“Fucking Mally” she mumbles. “You manipulative old bitch”.
The docking bay indicated by Evjen is plunged into darkness, Aerin heads for the control booth near the entrance, activates a console, which sparks life into the hangar. A low hum fills the room, its pitch slowly shifting towards a higher tone. The generators are warming up. Suddenly a loud noise can be heard as power gets redirected to the bright docking bay spotlights, revealing the Malevolent, affectionately nicknamed “Mally” by its owner.
Aerin takes a moment to look at the Malevolent which looks rusty. The bulky old lady looked like nothing really, an old dropship perhaps. It is however part of its camouflage. A ship that looks in poor shape seems much less of a threat after all.
The Malevolent being in fact an inquisition ship that Evjen had found derelict a few star systems across the void also warranted for a more subdued appearance. It was therefore also heavily modified to avoid immediate visual class-recognition.
Aerin had heard Mally’s story a few times too many : Evjen had dismantled the damned thing completely before stowing the parts away in a dozen of his company’s freighters in order to discretely smuggle it back planet-side.
Reassembly, repairs and customisation had been much more of a pain, apparently. Not only the costs of custom-made or salvaged parts but most exorbitant of all was the price of secrecy ; the paying-offs, the unending amount of favours, the machinations, the oft violent silencing of loud-mouths, and their corpses to recycle, all of it probably still weighs heavily on Evjen’s conscience.
For all the disgust the man has for servitors, they at least, wouldn’t betray him. Unless someone hacked into them, that is. Aerin understands her benefactor’s words fully when he says he can’t trust anyone but kindred spirit.
Aerin sighs in satisfaction. For an underhiver, simply seeing a void-capable ship from up-close is already remarkable. Boarding one would be far-fetched to say the least, but piloting one? That is well-nigh inconceivable.
But there she is, ready to make the old lady sing her song of grace and mechanical fury, with harmonics of metal and fuel, hurled supersonic into the darkness of space.
Maybe Aerin will get to hear the loud beating of the ammo drums being emptied at some pirate or whatever type of sucker who thinks they can get away with double-crossing Evjen Praxi.
Mally, deadly old lady with tricks up her sleeve that even Astartes would envy. How could Aerin ever refuse such an opportunity?
Evjen enters the cockpit and notices Aerin already seated.
“The pilot seat, uh?” he observes in feigned irritation. ��That bad of an itch?”
Aerin turns her seat around towards Evjen as he stows a couple of toolkits and datapads away.
The underhiver nods, breathes in deeply, holds the air in for a moment, then delivers solemnly : —“I’m in love, Ev”. The man lets his bag slide off from his shoulder and it falls heavily onto the deck. Visibly taken aback, he looks at Aerin for a moment, not understanding what she means.
—“Your ship, Ev, your ship!” she specifies, “your graceful, powerful, agile, and deadly Mally!” she adds as her hands grip the stick and the throttle.
—“Uh-huh” Evjen utters as he throws himself in the copilot’s seat.
“Very well” he sighs. “Would you kindly take your fling to the skies, then?”
—“Oh, she’s much more than a fling, Ev” Aerin corrects. “At this point she’s my significant other”.
Evjen giggles in amusement as he straps himself in :
—“Just, take her out, Aerin”.
Aerin quickly wraps up the lift-off procedure checks before powering-up the Malevolent’s plasma engines. The hull starts vibrating in a deep rumble which fills the soul of the voidcraft’s pilot with an incommensurable sensation of triumph. She reaches for the panel overhead and tunes into the local traffic control’s communications.
—“FC Eta-Seven, this is voidbound shuttle PeeCee-Alpha-Niner — Malevolent” she says, as if she had been a comms-op her entire life. “Requesting clearance for manually operated flight from Praxcorp docks to orbit, over”. The voxcasting system makes a clicking sound as she stops broadcasting.
After a few seconds, another clicking occurs, covering the murmur of the idle engines —“PC-Alpha-9 please specify cargo and destination” the flight operator asks.
Evjen who had started slouching again, straightens up and reaches for one of the data pads he has brought with him.
—“Feed them that” he says, handing the pad over to Aerin.
The underhiver takes the pad and looks towards the console next to her, searching for the right connecting slot. Before inserting the metallic capsule into the slot, she dusts it off to ensure the reading heads are clean. The pad fits into the console with in a snapping mechanical noise. Aerin hits a few buttons before opening the comm’s channel once more :
—“Transmitting, flight control” she utters, in the same appropriately monotonous voice.
The tower acknowledges the reception of the data and asks for them to wait for a pending approval of their flight path. After a few moments, Aerin covers the soft roaring of the plasma drive :
—“What’s on there?” she asks, pointing at the datapad.
The casual tone of her voice can’t conceal the curiosity gnawing at her as well as she would like.
Evjen inhales loudly, as if he wanted to convey his boredom :
—“A detailed route we won’t follow” he answers. Taking another breath, Evjen continues : “along with the specs of a bogus inspection mission on some of my astral ore mining facilities”.
Aerin looks disappointed, but nods nonetheless. The business man, feeling he wasn’t precise enough to satiate his sidekick’s interest explains that the resources his corporation gathers from the void is vital to this world’s production of Imperial machines of war, and surely, they wouldn’t mess with the daily affairs of the biggest purveyor of raw materials in the system. It still isn't what she wanted to hear. She is waiting for him to tell her who has to die and why. She likes a good story and loves to get involved in them. Sensing she won't get it out of him just yet, Aerin simply goes for “makes sense”. A good follow-up-killing pair of words.
They spend a moment in silence, their senses lulled by the sound of the engines. Finally, the clicking of the final transmission is heard, along with the awaited sanction of their flight path. Aerin reaches for the docking clamps’ release and lets Mally gently drift out of the mooring bay, along the suspended observation pier.
As the Guncutter clears the docks, the pilot starts allocating more power to the drive’s capacitors, which can be heard revving all the way from engineering. Soon it seems like the whole craft is pulsing with tremendous potential energy from within its core, energy ready to be unleashed into the propulsion systems. For Aerin, this moment is as overwhelming as it pleasurable.
Clinging to his seat’s armrests, Evjen comments in feigned tranquility :
—“Easy now.” he says, his entire body as stiff as a support beam.
Aerin, slowly tilting the Malevolent towards the skies, turns her head and meets the screaming apprehension in Evjen’s eyes. She lets the ship sally forth and smiles as the Malevolent’s hull quivers and resonates under the mighty roar of its engines, now hurling the two of them into the void.
P2
“The big one, at one o’clock high. Do you see it?”
Aerin takes a quick look towards the asteroid field.
“Yes.“
“That’s where we are going”.
“Understood”.
Evjen allows his back to rest into his seat. “They are hidden on the other side, waiting for us” he utters, before exhaling sharply through the nose. “Their ship has a ventral docking bay, big enough for us to land”.
While focused on her approach, Aerin can’t help twitching her eyes to the side, in an attempt to try and gauge the situation by the look on Evjen’s face. He never was too big on dispensing the details but this time he is being particularly ungenerous.
“Dock while maintaining vox-silence. I don’t want any stray signals” he orders.
As they pass on to the other side of this huge space rock, the target ship appears on Mally’s scopes. To the naked eye, it is still but a dot easily mistaken for one of the smaller asteroids in the background.
Aerin inhales slowly as she builds up the courage to speak.
“Would you care to tell me what we are doing here? Who are these people, you — one of the most powerful man on the whole Emperor-damned planet — have to meet behind a rock the size of a hive city?”
Evjen stares into the monitors as he tries to bring the necessary order to his thoughts to formulate an answer. “They’re pirates” he mumbles after a moment of silence. “Thieves, criminals, debased scum, sure, but yet resourceful.” he adds, more clearly.
“They do have a voidship” Aerins comments.
“Yes. But they also have contacts with certain, special people outside of our system. People who, they claim, can find anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.” Evjen continued without pause : “I wanted something very special and they asked around for me. Naturally they asked those special people I mentioned. Turns out one of them quickly found what I needed and our friendly pirates arranged a meeting between me — or rather, us — and this, shall I call, artifact finder.”
“Who are these special people?”
“I have my suspicions but I don’t like it. Not one bit.” he declares. “Anyway, I have brought payment for the pirates, but I haven’t been told what this finder requires for his or her troubles. This might be tricky. This is why I needed you. Because I know I can count on your discretion and, if my dealings with this person fail miserably, I also know I can count on your sizeable set of other abilities”
Aerin knows better than to push this line of questioning any further. Evjen expects things to get messy and it is information enough for her, for now at least. Instead, she contemplates the story she’s just been told while observing the pirates’ ship which now appears much bigger through the cockpit’s window.
It was a modified freighter, similar ships can be found in countless amount in the system : bringing supplies, shipping off cargo to the sub-sector’s commercial hubs, they are so common that she can’t help but approve this choice for a ship engaging in illegal activities.
It is in a state of disrepair, but nothing out of the ordinary. Captains push their crews and their ships to the last limits and accidents are rather frequent. The modifications however, those, she feels, are too obvious. Heavy ordnance and laser turrets slapped onto a cargo ship, it isn’t very discreet nor elegant. Then again, they didn’t have the limitless budget of her passenger and benefactor. Mally here, Aerin thought, had concealed weaponry. She might look like a defenseless void shuttle but underneath the facade, she is armed to the teeth ; she could beat squadron of interceptors on her own and perhaps she could hold her own against light scout corvettes. She’d definitely chew up the piece of garbage freighter Aerin is going to make her metal steed land in, she has no doubt that.
As the Malevolent gets into its final approach, Aerin decides to steer it towards the ventral docking bay, but using a backwards manoeuvre. An uncommon procedure, especially since there is barely any room for Evjen’s prized Guncutter there, but she manages to land it smoothly. Evjen frowns at her intricate piloting.
—“Much easier to get out of here this way” she explained.
Evjen’s frown leaves the way to a conniving smile. As Aerin turns off the engines, she notices armed men running onto the docking area.
—“Don’t worry about it” reassures Evjen as he lifts one of the bags he brought with him. “They’re probably here to escort us to the bridge” he wheezes. The bag must be heavier than she thought.
They both stand in front of Mally’s rear airlock, ready to disembark. As the pressure equalises, Evjen checks his side arm, Sagitta Tenebris, a custom-made beauty of a needle-gun. Aerin looks at him, still waiting on more instructions. Having finished his weapon’s inspection, he holsters it. As the hatch starts opening, Evjen stares right into Aerin’s awaiting eyes.
—“Whatever happens” he insists, “you follow my lead out there.”
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Lineup Lamentations - GW14
Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week.
WALSH
TRANSFERS:
OUT: Frannofuck, Naughton, and Vardy
IN (for -4 points): Christensen, Azpilicueta, and Niasse
Time to buy Chelsea. Removed some well dead fat from the team and will be shifting to a 352 / 442 / 343 / whatever the fuck hybrid shit moving forward.
Christensen looks too good value to pass up and with Luiz out it only cements his place in the team further.
Azpil v Alonso very real question. Very real indeed. I generally prefer the guy with greater attacking threat who actually shoots more than 0 times in the last 4 games but after much discussion with great friend of the pod Alon...the baps for Azpil are fucking just insane. And Alonso has looked fairly bad also for a while. He scored his last goal on that weird set piece and while he will get some returns...he will never get baps on a clean when he doesn't get an attacking return. Baps are good. Azpil gets baps when they lose just like fucking Grob. I want some of that. I want to be casual and have fun with baps. No Hazard and no Morata is scary, but, I like my attackers and I didn't have an easy route in to either. I don't want to downgrade any of my mids and I like Bobby so I am going to try and get in there with double defense from Chelsea as a little cheeky diff and hopefully be in there with good points at a cheaper price.
Niasse is whatever. Diving cunt. Should play when he's back...can start him sometimes in good fixtures...felt like he was a better guy than Andre Ayew's brother. At least he has some clue how to score goals and con refs into pens so will always have that in the locker.
GK:
Pope. Let's see if Dyche will sub Tark on 90' so that dumb cunt twat isn't still out there in stoppage time to concede a pen and lose the clean again.
DEF:
New friends Christensen and Azpil go. Judging how the season is going one will be rested because fuck me.
SWard has a nice fixture he's an easy start for the next 5 gameweeks. Double Burnley double Chelsea defense here I am. Get some cleans and give me some points.
I am still sticking Jones in my starting lineup. I have managed to hold him still...and I don't know what the fuck Mou means when he says "he's progressing". Wouldn't be surprised if he starts, so who knows. I will have Dunk in off the bench if Jones is out again. Probable..but fine. I don't think there is a chance in hell that BHA keep clean in that insane huge derby but whatever. Maybe Dunk will get me another own goal. I mean let's face it....off two weeks with a red card and own goal someone will have to step up. Maybe Dunk makes it 2 in 2. Let's go Lewis.
MID:
Fourth week running with the same midfield for me. Triple city Silva, Sane, and Raz go again. City were fucking annoying against Huddy. Hope they go back to their firing ways. At least Raz got me a haul...Seems like every week the three of them get me around 15 points. Not bad....but not exactly shooting me up the ranks either. Just waiting for that next 5 goal game from them.
Salah I am very wary of. Feels like his turn to get a rest. If he does do...fuck. Wish I had RLC instead of Dalebert Stephens but here we are.
FWD:
Two friends this week with Kane and Bob. Bob's 0 against Chelsea felt great. Real good. At least he's nailed to start against Stoke. He's a big time hold for me and I still love the boy. Kane is Kane.
CAP:
Kane. Not a question in my mind as I don't own either Chelsea attacking asset. Salah would be a contender but chance of him getting rested is way too high. I have decided that I am going to just captain Kane for the next four gameweeks unless he gets hurt - lei wat STO BHA looks like fucking points and dongs to me. Spurs are kinda fucked up like Guest shouted on the pod and I'm not denying that but Kane's stats are still fucking silly. Not going to faff about I'm just going to cap the best player in the game for the next four great on paper fixtures and leave it at that. Leicester were FUCKING AWFUL against West Ham and if they have that kind of performance again then Kane could get a hat.
I remain in complete mystified denial that Spuds have still yet to win a pen all season. Anyway, an away like this has Kane cap all over it....and the fact that he is shaping up to be a fucking hugely massive differential cap makes it all the more tasty to me. I'm vicing Bobby only because he seems the most nailed attacker in my team. So those of you at home keeping score...you all know what to do...fade Kane. I am off back to back 1 point captain picks so let's see if I can keep the streak alive.
ALON
TRANSFERS:
OUT: Kun Aguero, Scooter Dann
IN: Morata, Christensen
Harsh on Kun, truthfully, but he’s off. I did this Sunday evening before the pod (as you may have heard) with Chelsea’s ludicrous fixture run kicking off this week and the warmth of the nailedness of Morata’s grasp, grasping my heart.
I had two major problem-childs in my defense with Philip Jones and Scooter Dann so I’m dealing with one for now which tidies up my squad a bit. Doubling down on the Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea lot with this run, and Christensen the lad, maybe their best/most impressive CB on the season, with Luiz now confirmed out, should be nailed. The boy is poised for a massive bandwagon scenic run of points. Give me peace and chemicals, I want to run into...
GK:
De Gea. Weekly staple. Gettin’ the job done. Although tough one this week with a yolo fearless Watford side.. Maybe he’ll rack up some saves? But I don’t wanna come off too greedy.
DEF:
After Leicester’s performance from the weekend I feel a lot better about a Spurs and Vert clean this GW. Hopefully, especially if a clean is on the cards, Vert can last more then 59 fucking minutes the idiot fucker. 1 point on his debut for me was not the best thing in the world... I’d love something here...
New Danish fucking genius lad Andreas Bødtker Christensen straight the fuck in what a nice little boost to the quality of my life... No clean on Earth has ever been nailed, too many variables at play, but motherfuck me Chelsea home Swansea is almost as close as one can get to a nailed clean. So I transferred out an actual 0 since Dann has been dropped for a tit and it feels so good. Get in BODTKER.
Lastly I have Phil Jones in - as usual - but assuming he misses out again it’ll be Duffy and Bad Luck Brighton auto-subbing in for him - home to a Palace side who are kind of on the upswing but ya know, they’re still fucking bad. Tough insane derby incoming but maybe Brighton will match what we see with our eyes and put up a nice solid defensive performance and clean. Although I do expect Palace to keep trending upwards and maybe even pickup back to back wins. Damnit. Get me a dong or something Duffman.
MID:
5-man midfield becoming the new norm for me. When I wildcarded I went into a 4-3-3 but RLC is just so good that evolving into a 3-5-2 was as simple as just starting him. Because he’s real. Not a piece of shit 4.5 like the rest of’em. Get in Ruben... Although one of those weird ones because I’m starting Duffy too, but whatever, they’re the two best guys that I should start.
Richarlison in a small tough run begins here with Mou and his bus company relocating to Vicarage Road. Richy passed the test in other difficult fixtures a little bit ago (ARS, che) and what else can be said? The boy is on fucking insane levels of fire. For people who are considering giving him a rest on the bench just imagine if his name was changed to “Salah” or “Kane” or “Hazard” because that’s the level he’s playing at. Can you still consider benching him? He has 7 returns in the last 8 matches and Watford are comfortably the 7th best team in the prem... I don’t get it. Start Richy, always.
Two city boys Sané and Silva. Nothing to be said. Best team, great guys, hopefully get more then 3 points from them this week but who knows maybe it’s a rotation fixture. Silva price dropping I’ll never understand but fuck it hope it makes them all pay.
And Salah, Salad, Pauline the man the myth the Egyptian god... Although I expect some level of rotation here so I wouldn’t captain him, he’s still the fucking god. I love him. Get in.
FWD:
No more Kun is kind of sad :(... Any FPL team with Kun I prefer to a team without Kun it’s just my factory default setting but alas here we are, Kun is very unreliable lad and no longer a great pick. The chance of 0 minutes is always right around the corner so I’m in with the tall Spanish lad Alvaro something whatever his name is.. He seems to be nailed to all hell since Chelsea essentially don’t have another striker in their squad and that’s a big positive to me with the fixture congestion here... That said I probably just jinxed him and he’ll be on the bench tomorrow... woops fuck me and everyone.
And Harry hi Harry. When Harry met Sally is basically FPL the movie, when Harry met Salah. What am I talking about? I’m not sure. But Harry is still fantastic. Everyone should calm down about him. He’s a great pick with 4 goal ceiling, still. So I haven’t thought about moving him... Yet.
CAP:
I’m giving the armband to the new kid on the block Morata. Excluding the bus that Chelsea parked at Anfield Morata has looked pretty good with good stats and Chelsea are titting. Home to maybe the worst team in the division seems very good to fucking dong and dominate so here we are now, entertain us [I feel stupid and contagious]. Back to back captain returns for me? I can dream............ and for those at home who are fucking dickfucks and want to captain my vice captain because my vice > my cap choices - the vice is on Kane. Good for Walsh at least...
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