This is the worst shit I've written and I did only so because I laughed the fuck outta myself when I came up with the idea.

Yes, this is totally different from anything I've posted here, and I might move it to Ao3 because it's more suited for there.

No, this chapter doesn't have explicit sex.

Next might have.

Enjoy the deranged rambling of this half-serious attempt at writing out a joke.

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Orre, Telissia Mountain, 19:33.

Thirty years hadn't been wasted.

God fucking dammit had they been worth it.

They all called him a crazed degenerate.

Aha! They were all fucking dumb, he would've gone to hell itself if this quest demanded it.

But now he was finally there, his wrinkly face showing a shocked smile, his eyes scanning the entirety of the room as if they were analyzing the face of god itself.

So much money was wasted on this.

So many dead ends.

So many local legends followed into the inevitable realization that they were just tourist traps.

Yet nothing had discouraged him from pursuing this single moment.

It was sleeping on some sort of altar, its yellow and white colors flaring with such magnificence that he almost kneeled at the presence of the myth itself.

His dreams could be made a reality.

"{I can finally...}" - He murmured. - "I can finally have a pokemon wife."

The archeologist next to him, a young eager woman suddenly faced him with obvious disbelief, her normally determined self turned into sheer stupefactive surprise.

She blinked several times, her mouth tried to move and form words, but she couldn't conceive the idea correctly.

"You wha-who-fo-... You did this for that?" - She asked, about to burst out laughing due to the ridiculousness of the thought that the fifth richest man in the world wanted that.

It isn't like there weren't some people who already did what he just said, it might be taboo, but he could do it if he wanted. So who in their actual right fucking mind would wish for a pokemon wife?

"Shut up!" - He snapped, his happy face turning into an insulted, almost irate display of devotion to the idea. - "You do not know what it feels not having the love of such creatures!"

Instead of acknowledging his retardation, she continued. - "You could've bought a Bunneary from the net and fucked her, stupid! You utterly brainless fat old Coomer, this is JIRACHI, the real one, not a simple apparition, the literal deity that caused Orre to be a wasteland up until this day!"

"I need a strong big hipped, muscular, tall, magical, with perfect IVs breedable and giant bazonkadonkers, yandere and slutty Blaziken to pamper me! Why the fuck would've I sold drugs to get rich easy and launder the money with chocolate manufacturing if not for a reason like this?!"

The other three archeologists and two bodyguards that composed the active part of this expedition came into the room, but his words made them stop on their tracks.

Silence got control of the room once again, only the buzzing of the flashlights of the people there and the breathing of both the people and the mythical pokemon making any sound.

This was, after all, an effort to find the home ancient civilizations had built to house Jirachi. It all relied on a stupid theory by an old woman from nearby, that Jirachi slept under these catacombs under a mountain because it missed the humans that used to live there, and thus slept there to revive the past moments.

So much effort, from the Orange islands to Kalos they had gone, all in hopes of searching for this one pokemon.

It was originally to try and study it, to understand it, maybe try to breed it, prove its existence and its reason for the legends it had behind it... Or something like that.

But no, the goal was apparently...

"You want to fuck pokemon." - The lead archaeologist repeated, still not believing it.

"Not just any pokemon, but the sweet kind that only a being such as Jirachi can provide!"

His reply was honest, and that creeped her out.

All the work she had done, all the investigation, all the efforts of hundreds of historians, linguists, anthropologists, geologists, all those who transported the material; and his entire tycoon... All for this?

And it was genuinely that.

Who the fuck would've wanna fuck a pokemon so desperately that they resorted to asking the gods themselves for some pokemussy?

"I-No..." - She uttered before falling into her knees. - "Kill yourself... Fuck you..."

Tears came out of her eyes. She was so fucking disappointed, heartbroken, fuck it all, she didn't even wanna think about what was in front of her.

The other people on the room dared not to do a single thing.

Not because this was absolutely moronic and they just didn't feel like stopping it for some reason.

Nah, it was because the man was now holding a pistol at them.

Even his bodyguards were astonished.

One of the archaeologists just surrendered himself to the absurdity of it all and said: "Yeah, alright, I am still going to get paid, fuck it, why not." Before sitting on the ground and waiting for the schizophrenic old fuck to do his thing.

Where had he even gotten a gun? The guy didn't carry a backpack, just a waist bag.

Well, it didn't matter, for his face was now ridden with a mix of enthusiasm, anger, and fear.

His smile was deranged, and the look on his eyes told of pure desperation.

It was a shell of a man who only wanted one thing.

And as such he got near the being capable of fulfilling his lone request.

Out of his bag he got a simple blue ink pen, and began scribbling something.

Normally, they would've tried to stop a man from doing something like that to a being capable of mythological damage, but well, you can't do much against someone pointing a gun loaded with 9mm bullets at you.

It took him a minute to scribble all of his heathenly desires into one of the notes on Jirachi's head.

He had written an incredibly long wish.

And he looked proud of it.

Next though, was the operation to wake up the beast itself.

A song sung by a pure voice was the only thing that could ever awake it from its 1000-year slumber.

Thankfully, this old creep didn't have a way of doing something, given that his voice was like that of a Crackhead.

All because they forgot about one thing.

There was a song that everyone could sing and sound like they actually had any talent.

"Hands, touching hands," - He began, his voice making earth itself tremble as he uttered those two words.

His smile grew, twisted, full of malice.

"Don't do it!" - Screamed one of the Archaeologists.

"Reaching out, touching me, touching you"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" - He again screamed, trying to get near the deranged man. Being stopped by one of his bodyguards because... Well, they paid him for a reason.

Jirachi seemed to move as if reacting to these esoteric noises.

But there was one last line before it could show all the greatness of a deity of wishes.

"Sweet Caroline."

Once that old fuck said those words, the Pokemon of wishes woke up from its slumber.

And nothing on this world was the same after that.

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Kanto, Pallet town, 12:38:

Dear little Ash had finally come back from earning his Highschool diploma.

After traveling through so many regions and capturing enough Pokemon to make some collectors jealous, he had to.

That and because his mother berated him into doing something for his own good, there would be a moment when the money from participating in so many tournaments would run out.

He was finally legally required to do something else than literally roam like an animal-catching hippie.

And now he was finally returning home from his internship on Saffron.

No one could describe how eager he was to do so. He had to leave Pikachu behind, his eternal companion.

That and the other trainers that came from Pallet town were now again there, so he had a lot of time to catch up. So many things to talk about, so many battle techniques and experiences.

Well, he hoped that it would mostly be him speaking, given that he managed to accomplish his dream of being a regional Champion.

But seeing friends, his pocket monsters, his family, Dr Oak, hell, even Gary, it would all be so sweet.

Maybe he could now go and pursue Serena. She had, after all, told him that she was coming soon to visit him, as she herself had finally ended her studies.

The thoughts of his life finally opening into a real paradise of opportunities was so enticing.

He could go away from home, buy a house in another region, become a Pokemon Professor, keep being a duelist, maybe even a general biologist to understand even further those little creatures that he so much held dear. Or just get a small job and live with his mom for a time before deciding.

It was the dream of a new adventure that got him distracted along the way.

Before he noticed it, he had walked, as if his body had been confused from where the direction of his House was, leading him right into...

Professor Oak's Laboratory.

The one problem he had with visiting it right now was that this didn't feel right, at all.

There was utter silence there.

No rumbling of machines from one of his assistants, not himself being zapped by a Pokemon, not even Tracey taking photos to the 'mon for his personal folder.

He felt a sudden rush of coldness on his spine.

Like something really bad was about to happen to him.

He expected Pikachu to be here, and he would be more than happy to see...

Before his thoughts could continue, the main door suddenly opened, slowly, the wood cracking as it let the innards of the building be seen.

And before his eyes, on a couch, was none other than Professor Oak, only recognizable due to his shining labcoat, because he had his head covered, hands and legs tied.

Had someone entered to rob the place?

No second was wasted, he rushed into the professor and immediately got the cover off his face.

There he saw that the man was still gagged, and that his eyes were red, as if he had been crying up until now.

Moreover, his hair were tilted up, as if he had been zapped with some hefty electricity.

"Professor! What happened?!"

A quick inquiry as he had to get his keys to cut off the lace of the gag. Ash had never seen something like this, at least to a person.

Once he did that, the man showed a face of pure terror, like he was fearful, not of him, but of Ash.

"Run." - Was the only thing the old man said, the message sending shivers down his spine.

"I-Wha-What?!" - He retorted, dumbfounded at the order. - "No! Is someone in the lab? Who did this?"

Ash kept asking, but while he did so, the only thing the Professor kept saying was "Run, run Ash, run."

And once the final word left the youngster's mouth, Oak closed his eyes, asking the heavens for forgiveness.

He was unable to save him.

Something cold, but wet began touching him. At first it was a light feeling on Ash's left cheek, until it began feeling more personal. It was a somewhat textured surface that placed itself against his skin, and then began moving up and down, leaving a trail of cold, sticky liquid.

It was a paralyzing lick.

His body almost surrendered, not letting himself move. But he felt wrong, scared, he did not know what or who was touching him.

And so he abruptly turned.

In whatever was behind him disappeared in a black fuzz, from which he almost identified color and feeling such that he got memories of his Gengar.

Yet the main attraction was past it.

He felt like he recognized this... Person?

His heart got confused between feeling threatened and welcomed, for the sight was eerily like the one he had seen so many times for so many years.

Yellow fur, short figure, a tail that sprung imitating a thunder, cheeks with reddish tones, a pair of overbite lips, and those black-tipped ears; but at the same time... It was almost humanlike, while still retaining that unforgivable reminder of what it ultimately was.

No matter those arms that reeked of the strength accumulated from thousands of battles.

Those hips that looked killer, animalistic appealing.

Legs capable of striking quick and deadly, echoing of so much agility and experience.

Fur that turned into a short wavy bobbed hair.

Or that plump chest that he immediately refused to look at before he got flustered out of this weird sight.

But the most important feature of this creature was the face.

It had eyes that leered into his very soul.

A smile twisted between overwhelming happiness, desire to act in mischievous ways, and pure hatred.

It was... Pikachu.

"Pi-..." - Before he could utter the name, it now moved its left index finger into its mouth and shushed him.

"No." - Was the voice that came after it, unequivocally female, so ladylike, yet so aggressive, while carrying a speck of endearing sweetness to it. - "Let me say something."

Ash gulped and tried backing up, but he again felt that thing go over his cheeks, his body numbing as he lost control of himself with every drop of that weird liquid that poured into his skin.

"How many years was I your pokemon?"

He tried lifting his hand but Pikachu shook its head in denial.

"It's rhetoric." - It added. - "But enough. Enough years."

It took a step forward, her obvious nude body causing the young man to feel like this situation was the worst he could be in, for it was strangely arousing, but obviously wrong.

"Was it because I wasn't a Gardevoir? A Lopunny? A Lucario? A fucking Vaporeon?" - It kept inquiring, its brow tilting downwards as she listed. - "Was there something wrong with me?"

"What do you... mean?" - Ash asked, genuinely confused, his mouth able to speak despite his body betraying him thanks to that cold touch he was receiving.

Pikachu took a long breathe, and placed its hands under her chest, lifting it upwards, as if showing its taller Master what she meant.

"Having sex with me!" - It screamed, completely irate, making Professor Oak cringe as he heard that. - "I'm a goddamn animal, Ash! I need to breed! Do you think that it is normal for a non-neutered championship-winning pokemon to not breed!? Every time I was rutting I prevented myself from jumping into your tent and making you own me because I loved you and your consent so much. To teach you why I was your perfect companion, why you didn't need any stupid friend to make you company, to talk... But now... I have a proper body, I... No, we all are just the way it is all good. All of your little pets want some of the privileges you have been denying us, not even a fucking Ditto to replace the need of every fucking animal."

Its eyes closed and then a long series of breaths came, resting from such a rant. - "Now we are all good little perfect wives, even your dear Charizard, so if you won't give us what we want, I'll break you into giving it. I'll make sure that your hips are broken and that I will have enough Pichus to double our population."

She approached the recently graduated, shaking her hips along the way, though her face still stood showing her utter hate for the treatment she hadn't received.

And what could the poor man say? This was the worst fucking scenario for anyone with a right non-sexual depraved mind! To be told that you will be forcefully bred by the one you held the most confidence with, and implied that every connection he had ever had was feeling now the same way as his Pikachu.

In a blink, she was in front of him, her head just some inches away from being in line with his belt.

Her eyes had turned watery as if she was somehow regretting this, her inner self telling her that this was wrong. Or quite possible she was feeling freed from the burden of not being able to do this.

"So, Master, please." - She turned to look upwards, directly at him. Her hands began to unzip his pants. - "Just tell me that this is right, that I can do this, that you want it."

From his peripheral vision, he began seeing things.

From every corner of the room began appearing silhouettes and then images of creatures he thought he recognized as his previous companions, now turned into these crazed monsters.

Tauros turned into a group of muscular, tall, bronze-skinned, legion of cowgirl-minotaur beasts that laughed at the premise of their precious Master now being at their mercy. Posing with such an air that they seemed to be proud that they could soon turn their once precious Battle commander into nothing more than their precious breeding stud. With some of them brawling to decide which one would take the first turn, other attaching cowbells to their necks for who knows what heathen purpose; or directly playing with themselves, in ways that the poor man didn't want to look at.

Fucking Melmetal turned into some sort of sex android taken out from some mod for that game Fallout-mon 4.

The Squirtle squad present, led by his dear Squirtle wearing glasses to identify herself from the rest, showing their slick, wet bodies that while lacking the milkers from the Tauros or other pokemon present, still showed their disposition.

He could recognize every single one of them, those little beings that now rocked their hips to him to show that they were available and ready to accept him inside of them.

Even moaning from them could be heard.

For someone like Ash, a Virginal and totally Christian Pokemon lover, this was a bane directly given to him by Arceus, might he know why for? He had done nothing wrong, aside from not adding nothing to society the last... How many years?

What kind of deranged person would want such precious little combat beasts to be turned into sex-crazed beasts? How did they even change so suddenly?

All of this had been a trap.

And god dammit had he fallen right into it.

Professor Oak was clenching his eyes, he didn't want to see the scene.

Pikachu's patience seemed to ran off, or maybe she didn't like the idea of Ash looking at the other Pokemon's bodies when he had her right in front of him.

Her sight had been turned into a cold stare.

And to prevent this from getting any worse. He gritted his teeth, gulping down his own saliva and suppressing a tear.

All the while the dexterous hands of his little electric mouse had already made his penis get out from his boxers right into the face of Pikachu, resting right above her head, letting the small beast smell him, grunting as she still waited for the last time for his trainer to say the words.

"Go ahead."

And as the face of the Pokemon turned into clear happiness with downright animalistic zeal, their celebrations making the earth below tremble; Pikachu complied by jumping and opening her maw, letting her steamy breath leave as she pushed her head back, letting her tongue out, and then pushing forward, enveloping his Master's girth in sheer pleasure, a dream that had become true.

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All over the world, countless trainers and even normal men began being assaulted by hordes upon hordes of sex-crazed pokemon-girls.

In some locations, there were reports of the gods themselves making acts of presence just to take one person and taking them into their domain, to do maybe what kind of heathen things.

The most important thing was a peculiarity.

The women of the world were left behind.

Wives found their house-pet Eevees fucking their husbands.

Milktanks would abuse their farmers.

Bimbos would find their Jinx jinxing their boyfriends.

Men swimming on the seas or lakes were immediately bred underwater, no matter if they could endure the deathly mating presses they were put on.

Miners got raped by dugtrios.

Even Brock got love-attacked by his Toxicroack.

During that single day, thousands if not millions of pelvises were crushed.

The problems would ensue for years onwards, where the women of the world, being cucked to death decided to strike back against the pokemon to recover their males.

All the while, in a mountain, an old fuck laughed at the state of the world, while being pillowed by the breasts of a Blaziken.

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