#and then they'll still throw you aside like you're nothing and continue to let that asshole who gets to fail upward say anything he likes

[immoralimmortals]

ok so what if, hear me out Takara was pregnant (gasp) nah like I want to hear your thoughts on this

So all cards on the table...miracle of life, wonderful, wonderful thing... Yeah, I know all that. But all the same, pregnancy to me is largely a form of body horror. A lot of this is going to be on the fly since it's not my cup of tea. So putting that aside and trying to make the subject warm and romantic, here are some thoughts on what it'd be like if Takara was pregnant:

You KNOW they dote on her. Absolute kings. There isn't a day that passes where ten separate Akatsuki members come up to her, if not multiple times, to make sure she's okay.

Itachi swears she's radiant, glowing like she's holy. You've heard this all before in other headcanons on this site-- he's over the moon with love. Glued to her side, yet somehow not overbearing. 10/10, I'd let this man be with me during my morning sickness. Takara will want for nothing. Probably becomes the most overtly sweet and romantic in al the time they've known each other, gently stroking her skin and kissing her head. When it comes to the point where she's "showing", he's quick to tell Kisame to do tasks for Takara whenever she's about to do something, and he has to be reminded she's not useless and it's good for both her and the pregnancy to continue being active.

You thought Kisame was awkward and cautious *before*? He's at the point where every single little touch, regardless how small or where it is on her body, is so, so purposeful. Nothing he does is haphazard. He will clear paths for her if necessary. He's her knight, her guardian, placing himself between her and the rest of the world. Definitely at one point rests his head on her belly and cries. He's very quick to answer to Itachi's orders and further enables inactivity. It is a lot easier to use his body to interact with other things than it is to use it to directly touch her; he's up for anything. He'll mow down a mountain just so she could go for a walk without having an incline. He will walk to town to buy her flowers every single day.

Hidan gets...quieter around her, especially as the pregnancy begins to show. He's more observant than before. Still gets into his usual attitudes if he doesn't understand or see something coming ("What? You seemed FINE a second ago! What do you MEAN you're gonna throw up!")...but he's certainly taking all this in. What does it mean to Jashin if someone brings forth life instead of takes it? He holds his prayer beads and feels the sigil between his fingers, only shutting his eyes to pray once she is surely asleep. He'll wonder a lot, eventually out loud, what the baby is going to be like, who they'll grow up to be, what it'll be like to have one around. He won't say it, but he's nervous as hell for that part. It's a whole new human being.

Kakuzu is so fucking stressed. This man is the closest in the group to being a normal-ass man with a normal-ass job and goal. He is trying to coordinate enough income for eleven fucking people to live at least somewhat comfortably. You're going to add a BABY? Good lord he might break. That being said, he's a worrywort that's always a little bit on edge. If someone is fucking around with her or the pregnancy too much, he will actually hit you. ...But not until he took you outside, she doesn't need to see it and stress herself or the baby. He is also especially concerned about accidentally being too rough. She'd have to convince him to touch her or sit next to her. Once she does? He finally relaxes, and he's in heaven. There's a whole world that fits right in his arms. He has a second chance not just with her but this child to have a life worth living.

Deidara is the most to treat her like...a normal human being undergoing a body change? I'm not saying he's uncaring, more like he's the best at not losing his fucking mind. Most willing to just hang out and not make it weird, let her do things on her own. Other people-- no, literally everyone else-- will see her reaching up in the kitchen cabinet for a mug and will scold him for not jumping to do it for her. He argues otherwise-- and it makes sense-- so therefore the other person gets pissed off. He tells Takara to be grateful for what he does for her independence, and she genuinely is, rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek that makes him bright red. It makes him stutter and try to move on so things are normal again. I think like Hidan-- even more so actually-- he's very curious about what it'll be like once the baby is around. It's fun to see her change little by little, day by day, too.

Sasori doesn't like change. That's kind of his whole bit. He isn't looking forward to the noise, the filth, the troubles of a baby and then later another growing person. So the pregnancy is kind of a precursor for that. Once it's clear that yes, this baby is coming, he has to make peace with it. He's the one that's most attentive about her physical health and body. He'll notice any change in color of her skin-- reddening or paling-- catch on to ANY morning sickness before she even says a word. She'd have to remind him that regardless of if the stretch marks stay, they're a part of her right now, and with that explanation he begrudgingly appreciates them. He eventually becomes entranced by the idea of teaching the child what he knows.

Konan is...wistful, I think, as well as in awe. She's kind of like Itachi in that she's very present, very gentle. But Takara being pregnant gives her a lot of...thought. Surely when she was born-- when Nagato and Yahiko were born-- their parents, too, had the best intentions in the world. A piece of her is afraid. The best laid plans can still fall into ruin, the intentions of being good parents and giving a happy life certainly did not happen to her and her friends. That being said, she finds comfort in being a pragmatic planner. She's the one that gets a routine for Takara both prenatal and then postnatal, the one that strategized how the baby is going to be educated, what kind of food they need, etc. So if nothing else-- if anything and everything goes wrong-- they at least have a plan to follow even if they panic. She also, like Itachi, finds her radiant in this time. I can see her sitting with Takara and holding her hand for hours on end, just finding peace in how much she loves her right now.

Nagato picks up where Konan leaves off on the whole planning thing. She is not to be alone at any time. She wants to go for a walk? Kisame, walk ten paces ahead, Kakuzu, ten paces behind, Deidara, go up in the trees. If she so much as scrapes her knee, there will be consequences. This will NOT be fucked up. He won't say it, but he loves her even more right now than he ever thought he could. He thinks that despite all her flaws-- any human has flaws, of course-- Takara will be the best mother to grace this universe or any other.

"Tobi" is so, so excited. While Konan is sitting next to her, he's on the floor, wrapping around Takara's legs, talking endlessly about how much fun the baby is going to be. He's also excessively careful and protective, which is in earnest at heart but also being played up so no one second guesses he's an idiot. He will throw away a cup of tea if he deems it too hot for her to drink, uncaring if it hits and spills on someone else. In private...he's quieter. I can see him putting on her socks for her as she has trouble bending, and he does it nearly reverently, looking up at her through that mask with a gaze she can feel as adoring. Obito is feeling every emotion possible. He's afraid, he's overjoyed, he's shaken, he's happy. This situation is the culmination of everything he's come to want while Takara has been here. He looks at her carrying this baby like she's Mary, mother of Jesus.

Zetsu is the funniest one. He doesn't get it. Like he DOES-- there'd be a joke where he'd say he doesn't get it and Tobi begins to explain where babies came from and Zetsu would yell at him to shut up-- but he doesn't get it. He's like me, the author, in the sense that like...if you really want to experience parenthood...why are you making a whole new baby? There are so many babies out there who NEED a parent. And you're going to fill up that slot? Humans are really genuinely so selfish, what the hell. That aside, he's at least mindful of her, in a physical and medical sense. He asks her questions, in the rare moments she is alone, and he genuinely listens and tries to engage. I think he would, finally, in at least a little way "get it" when Takara invites him to put an ear to her stomach and listen.

Everyone is excited to see who the father is, regardless of how much they say it does or doesn't matter.

[vaguely-concerned]

sometimes I'm hit by the niggling suspicion that living in a culture where people like me, if we're lucky enough to not be actively ridiculed or attacked, are still constantly and forcibly reminded just how easily disposable and disregardable we are at someone else's idiotic thoughtless whim... might have left some marks on me psychologically huh

[221bshrlocked]

masked in desperation

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6044

Warnings: Verbal Degradation. Physical Humiliation involving Din making reader wet herself. Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Non-Protective Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong por favor). Rough then Soft Din. Don't worry, this is consensual and there is aftercare involved.

No summary because I don't even know what to call this? All you guys need to know is that this fic is based on/inspired by the following asks [x] [x] [x] [x]

A/N: Uhhh this is new for me so I'm sorry if I didn't get the dynamic involved with a humiliation kink right. Please let me know how I could correct anything should there be something off. This was supposed to be rougher...but I turned soft midway because nervous Din makes me warm. I hope you like it nonetheless though. Comments are hella appreciated. And you can add yourself to the taglist here. Enjoy and please don't @ me once you finish this fic. And I apologize that it took long, this semester was hell.

It was an act of crazed desire concealed beneath irritation and anger, irritation with you for managing to claw yourself into his heart and anger at himself for allowing you to do so freely. He couldn't deny his feelings anymore, not if he wanted to retain whatever sanity he had left around you. What started out as nothing but stress relief and a way to help with the pain left behind by Grogu leaving turned into Din wishing he could stake his claim on you every moment of every day so you wouldn't seek anyone else out. Not that he genuinely believed you would. Still...

And it wasn't like this was any different from what the two of you usually do. At least that's what he says to excuse his twisted behavior, to not dwell too much on his sick, possessive fantasies.

It was driving him mad. He wanted to mark you up, always did during those passionate nights, loved watching as you tried, and failed, to cover up his love bites and handprints from the guild members. But he also craved to feel the same way. He wanted to bear traces of you on him so people knew how much he cared for you, perhaps even recognized the hold you have on him. The only problem was, no one would ever see the angry nail scratches and bite marks you left every night on his skin because of his beskar. So this, this would do the trick, even if it was barely noticeable, even if it would be gone when he washed his beskar, even if the two of you would be the only ones who knew what happened behind closed doors.

The weird thing was, he doesn't even know how he got to this point. Well, that's not true. He can actually trace his way to this moment, but he feels ashamed to do so? Reluctant maybe. It didn't matter what he was feeling at this point. All he knew was that he needed to watch you as you humiliated yourself in front of him, and had no power to do anything about it. Perhaps it was because, deep down, he wanted to show you that he'd accept you no matter what. He wanted to prove to you that he may just be worthy of having you in his arms. He wanted to assure you that he would be committed to you until his dying breath. And this, in some way, was the solution.

Before he can reevaluate and dwell too much on his decision, he fills a cup with water and heads towards you, ignoring the Marshal's glances as he approaches you and taps on your shoulders.

"Yeah?" You turn around, and Din forces himself to stand his ground when he sees your smile growing wider as you take the water from his hand. "Oh aren't you sweet. Careful, or else they'll think you're growing soft." You tease him as you down the cup of water and hand it back to him before returning to fixing the ship. He says nothing as he walks back towards the cantina, and resumes his quiet meditation.

And that's how it goes for the next couple of hours. He brings you a cup of water every so often, murmuring something or other about how he doesn't have time to take care of you if you suffered from a heat stroke before leaving immediately. Din quietly thanks the maker for your discomfort with public refreshers, because this plan wouldn't have worked if you decided to go to the cantina or elsewhere to relieve yourself. He's locked his ship's refresher and made sure to not be anywhere in sight when you sought him out to ask about the issue with the door.

He feels himself grow harder when he notices you squirming as you work on the ship, softly palming himself through his pants when you halt your movements every couple of minutes to either cross your legs or push your hand between your thighs to attempt and alleviate some of that pain. A part of him feels horrible for putting you through this, but something tells him it will be worth it in the end. Din Djarin isn't a man of prayer, but he pleads to whatever higher power that created you that this wouldn't backfire and make you leave him.

As the twin suns slowly set beneath the sky, Din moves away from where he's been hiding and heads towards the ship, making sure he is in your line of sight as he walks up the ramp and towards his armory. He quickly takes out the durasteel cuffs from where he's set them, hiding them behind his back as he pretends to head towards the cockpit.

However, he stops when he sees you rushing past him and setting all of your tools aside. You're mumbling angrily beneath your breath when things begin to fall over, growling when you try to fix them a couple of more times, and they continue to fall.

"Motherfucking shit," Din hears you swear as you carelessly try to set the box again and it falls over. Shaking your head, you turn around and sprint past him again towards the refresher. His eyes never leave your shaking form as you push on the refresher button numerous times and nothing happens.

"Pfassk! Din, how angry would you be if I broke this fucking door right now?" You try to grab the gun on his holster but he is quicker than you, slamming his hand on your own to prevent you from taking it.

"Extremely." His answer is short and straight to the point, mostly because he can't trust himself to respond to you without giving himself away.

"God please I- I need..." You hesitate and try to remove your hand from him, only to feel his hold tighten around your wrist. He thought you'd break and confess what you needed to do due to your desperation, but you don't, holding your tongue and looking up at him quizzically when he removes your wrist and clasps one side of the cuff on them.

"Din, what- what're you doing?" You look down and watch as he clasps the cuffs on your other wrist and ensures that they aren't too tight around your wrists before he locks them. Before you can ask him again, Din drags you across the ship and into the cockpit, ignoring your annoyed murmurs as he sits down and pulls you onto his lap.

You squirm around and try to get up but Din’s hold on your waist tightens and he slides you against his beskar until you fall into his chest. He says nothing as you push away and try to maneuver yourself so your legs aren’t wide open. He chuckles lowly when he sees how much you’re struggling, finally allowing you to put some space between the two of you. You rest your back against the controls board and take a few deep breaths before you stare at him.

“Can you please let me go?” You ask patiently, and hope he sees how genuine and serious you’re being. When he sits back but keeps his hold on you, you know he isn’t going to make this easy.

“Why?”

“Because I- I need to take care of something,” you look away when you respond and Din feels his cock twitch in his pants at the sudden shyness taking over.

“How about you let me take care of you?” He takes his gloves off and throws them aside, smiling to himself when he sees you shiver as he moves his hands up and down your body. You watch him like a hawk and you feel yourself growing wet for a moment, but you realize this reaction is the last thing you want to experience in his presence right now.

“Wait Din- just...it’s not like that.” You bite your lower lip and stifle a moan when he cups your tits and softly flicks at your hardened nipples.

“No? And yet here you are melting at my touch...your body knows me mesh’la, it’s blooming for me and I’ve barely touched you. Sweet girl, don’t you want me to make you feel good? I’ve been thinking about you all day long, about kissing you until you’re breathless...and biting you until you have my mark everywhere. Don’t you want me to show you just how much I’ve missed you?” Din knows he’s not being fair but the way your eyes are glowing with lust is enough to ground him so he could carry out his plan.

“I- I do...fuck, Din- I really do. I barely think of anything else...but I really need to-” You shut your eyes and groan as soon as you feel Din’s hand descend down your chest and rest on your lower stomach. He supports your back as he slowly begins to push against your navel, watching with fascination as your face contorts from pain and pleasure the harder he pushes on your muscles. You’re not sure what’s happening for a few seconds until you manage to open your eyes and look at him. His visor prevents you from seeing what he’s thinking but none of it matters when you feel him shift underneath you before he eases up. You sigh in relief but Din repeats his actions, only this time, he’s becoming a little more aggressive with his touches.

"N-no wait please I-"

"What's the matter mesh'la? You're usually fucking me like a loth-cat in heat by now, begging for me to have my way with you...take what I want until you feel properly fucked and filled with my cum." Din leans forward, never once easing up as he begins to move you over his beskar-clad thigh. There’s not much you can do due to the cuffs and how much advantage Din has over you in terms of muscle and size so you do the only thing that’s left.

You beg.

"Please, please Din I- I just...I need to-" It takes every ounce of control not to let go of your body’s function and you realize you’re not making much sense when Din cuts you off again and asks you what you want.

"Need to what? Go on sweet girl, tell me. What do you need?" His motions become more rough as he alternates between shoving his hand against your bladder and moving your clothed heat across his thigh. Din wants nothing more than to push you to the floor and fuck you until you can’t remember anything but him, but he tries his best to keep himself in check until he gets what he wants.

"I'll do anything Din just...need the- the refresher. I'm so- so...maker, please wait-" The controls dig into your back the more you lay on them but you can’t find it in yourself to care because a different kind of pain shoots down your spine when Din brings you closer to him and hikes your shirt up. His palms are warm against your skin and you hate how good they feel because this was not how you saw the day going with him.

"You know the safeword. Say it if you want me to let you go and I will." His tone shifts and you throw all caution aside as you confess to him why you need to leave.

"Din please...I really need to pee. I- I'll come back right away but I- oh it's too much, t-too much." You think he’s going to apologize and let you go when you tell him but all your admission does is cause him to momentarily stop before he wraps his arms around you and stands up. He’s pushing you up against the wall, not caring for what you just said to him or how rough he’s being as he nudges his leg in between your thighs and resumes his antics from before.

"I know."

The curt response washes over you like ice and your eyes begin to water as soon as Din takes off his helmet and you see him smiling down at you. You don’t know that you’re shaking in his arms but he leans down and nuzzles into the crook of your neck to commit the moment to memory. He loves the effect he’s having on you and although a small part of him feels bad, he doesn’t bother or care to hold back as he brings himself flush against you, the action causing his beskar to push deeper against your navel and have his desired effect.

"Din?" He thinks your whimpers might make him cum right then and there but he takes a deep breath before he pulls away and looks down at you. He’s sure that his eyes don’t convey an ounce of guilt at the moment, the opposite actually, and it only brightens his smile as he pulls down your tank top strap far enough to give him access to the top of your breasts. Din moves closer to you and lays lazy kisses across your heated skin, all the while attempting to grab your attention so he could tell you what he wanted.

"Why do you think I kept handing you water all day ner ka'rta?"

"W-wha-?" Your sniffles pull at his heart but he knows that you’re not in any physical danger and that all you need to do is whisper your safeword and he’d let you go. When a tear drop trails down your chin and hits his forehead, Din has to pull away to take a better look at you. He hates how much he loves the way you’re looking at him right now, like he’s simultaneously a villain and a savior to your predicament.

"And who do you think locked the refresher? Sweet girl… I thought you were smarter than that." Your surprised gasp adds more to the innocence he’s seeing in you and it’s the last straw before he holds onto your waist and begins to move you across his thigh again.

"You what?"

“Go on pretty, I know how much you’re trying to hold it in. ‘m not letting you go any time soon,” Din talks down at you and if you weren’t trying to prevent yourself from embarrassing yourself in front of him, you’d think it was the sexiest tone he’s had with you yet. But it’s getting more difficult to control your bladder and even though you get the sense that he will probably win in the end, you still try to hold off as much as possible.

“Look at you trying so hard...prettiest fucking sight in the galaxy. And do you know what makes it even better? I can smell how much you want me...this tight, wet cunt is begging for my cock. You can have me sweetheart, you can have me right now if you want. But you know what you have to do.” You’re shaking in his arms and plead pathetically when he applies more pressure on your navel. You try to ask him why again but you can’t find the words and resume moaning his name as he uses you.

And that’s what he’s doing. He’s using you. Like he owns you. Like he has the right to control every muscle in your body. You’re not sure what it is that made him act like this all of a sudden and you know it ultimately doesn’t matter because like he said, he won’t be stopping any time soon. It’s just strange that he wants this. He wants you to embarrass yourself. He’s practically helping your body let loose so you could wet yourself. You try to convince yourself that nothing about this should be turning you on, but the way his eyes are hazed with lust and desperation makes you reevaluate your thoughts and you manage to look up at him as he begins to speak again.

“It’s okay mesh’la, you can let go. Let go, now! Make a mess sweetheart. Make a mess of me, I won’t fuck you till you ruin my beskar and make this ship dirty. Go on. Or do you want me to help you again?” Din isn’t sure what’s come over him but he doesn’t hold back anymore, slipping his hand underneath your pants and pushing hard on your bladder until he feels your thighs squeeze around him.

“D-din fuck...oh- my...maker I- I can’t-” You throw your head back as you fist your hands into his cowl, holding on to that last bit of self control before you’re no longer able to. As he lifts his hand and pushes again, the thread breaks and tears slowly roll down your cheeks as you frown up at Din when your bladder gives out. Din looks into your eyes one last time before his attention moves south and his jaw clenches tightly when he notices the material of your pants grow darker the more you relieve yourself.

He doesn’t bother to stop, continuing to apply pressure on your lower stomach as a day’s worth of water floods down your legs and onto his beskar. He watches with fascination as his pants grow wet as well before he hears the faint sound of droplets falling onto his ship. You follow his line of sight and whimper in embarrassment when you notice just how big of a mess you made. There’s a small puddle forming where the two of you are standing and your nervousness only grows when you see how wet Din’s pants are.

When there’s nothing left and your shaking subsides a little, Din removes his hand from you and returns it to your waist, squeezing the skin he has access to so he wouldn’t strip you and fuck you in the middle of your mess. Every time he moves his foot, he can hear the soft splashing sound of the puddle underneath him and it only makes him harder. When he finally looks at you, he’s met with the most vulnerable expression he’s ever seen on you and although he wants nothing more than to kiss you and apologize, he allows himself to go just a little further until he sees you’re no longer able to put up with him.

“D-din...you- you made me, I-”

“Oh sweet girl, I made you do nothing.” The look of shock on your face is worth the hassle and he watches as you pout your lower lip before more tears leave your gorgeous eyes.

“You’re just a filthy girl, wetting yourself in the middle of my ship and not caring how dirty you’ve become...you really couldn’t hold it in cyar’ika? Look at this, look at the mess you made of my armor. You know how valuable beskar is and yet you pissed all over it. And my ship!? Didn’t we just clean this ship pretty?” Din could feel you melting into him with every word that passes through his lips and when you look away from him, his smile falls and he quickly grabs your neck, turning it straightforward so he could look into your eyes.

“No, you don’t get to look away from me when you’ve just pissed all over yourself and me. Maybe I should change your name, call you ad’ika from now on.” He has to hold back from smiling when he sees the moment you recognize the word. He’s only ever used that word whenever he talked with Grogu and you knew exactly why he was bringing it up now. “You’re my little girl aren’t you? My filthy, pretty little ad’ika who can’t fucking control herself and marked me up like she has the right...like she owns me.” Din watches as your expression softens a bit at his last admission and he trails his gaze down your nose until he is only focusing on your lips.

You can’t help but also stare at his lips and Din uses the brief moment of distraction to unbutton your pants and slip his hand into your panties, humming in approval when he feels the wet fabric scratch deliciously at his knuckles. You gasp when you feel his fingers softly rubbing your slit and as you look into his dark brown eyes, Din slips two fingers into your wet cunt and stops.

“Fuck, you’re so wet ad’ika, so warm and wet and ready for me.” He nudges his fingers deeper into he finds the spot that makes you see stars. You know immediately what he wants to do and reach for his arms as he grows closer to you. When they begin to get in the way, Din takes hold of the cuffs and raises them high above your head until the cuffs are glued to the wall. He can’t stop from smiling down at you, all stretched out and ready to be thoroughly fucked. But he doesn’t give in just yet.

“Din it’s...you’ll get dirty. I- I don’t want you to-”

“I don’t fucking care,” he growls as he leans down and bites shoulder again, moaning against your skin when he feels your cunt clench around him. “That’s it, open up for me...let me make you feel good. I- I want you to scream my name sweetheart, scream my name as you make a mess of me. Please...I need it, need- maker...need you to drench me again.” His words twist something inside of you and you lean back as he moves his thick fingers in and out of you until you feel that familiar pressure all over again.

“Oh Din...your fingers f-feel so- so good.”

“That’s right ad’ika, only I get to touch you. Only I get to watch you come undone...only I get to wear your scent, your beautiful fucking wet scent. I- I won’t wash this armor sweet girl, not when you’ve marked it...marked me, this much. Go on, be a good girl and make a mess of me. Let me walk around with the smell of you etched on my fucking beskar.” You whimper at the filthy whispers Din breathes against you and just as you’re about to come, Din grabs your pants along with your damp panties and pushes them as far down as he could. You bite into your lower lip as he tries to push his digits deeper into you, and when you finally manage to turn and look at him, you hold your breath as you see the way he’s looking at you, into you.

“Cum for me. Now.”

The quiet order, along with the pace of his touches, breaks you and you force yourself to not shut your eyes as your pussy throbs around his fingers, a wave of euphoria washing over you so swiftly you think you’ll faint. Din momentarily turns his attention to your heat once again and he hisses when he feels you coming on his hand just as you squirt on his beskar and the floor of the ship. You’re unable to form a coherent sentence as Din refuses to slow down and your eyes water again when the hold he has on your waist becomes more painful than before.

“Maker...you’re perfect.” Din kisses your neck as he finally decides to slow down but the way he continues to rub your clit with his palm does little to calm your nerves and you don’t realize how much you’re shaking until everything quiets down and all that you can hear is the sound of Din’s heavy breathing and your own heaving and sniffling. You wince when he fully removes his hand from you and helps you out of your pants and shoes. He takes a step back and groans when he sees how spent and ruined you look as you stand on your tiptoes and try to calm down.

As you try to catch your breath, Din unlocks both cuffs and throws them aside, reaching down and grabbing your ass so he could support your weight against him. You jump on instinct and moan when you feel the cold beskar against your skin as Din grinds into your soaked heat. He doesn’t waste another moment, diving in and claiming your lips until he could feel your teeth nipping at his tongue. He makes sure he has a good grip on you before he moves to the refresher and as soon as the two of you are standing in front of it, he pushes a code into the pad and unlocks the door. You pull away for a moment to look into his eyes, the silence of your gaze knocking the breath out of him as you hide into his neck. It takes but a second for Din to realize that he shouldn’t try to push your limits any further for the night.

His touches grow softer as he carefully sets you down on the floor of the refresher. Din can see you’re shivering from the cold room and makes quick work of his clothes and armor, choosing to leave his boxer briefs on so you wouldn’t think of anything else. He leans down and taps twice on your shoulders so you could raise them above your head. As you do, you look everywhere else but him and the gesture is a little too raw for Din because as he strips you down to nothing, he’s leaning down and kissing your forehead until he feels you relax in his arms.

When he’s satisfied with your slowing heart rate, he stands up and turns on the water, making sure to stand in front of you and block you from the cold water until it turns warm. Even though he doesn’t particularly enjoy it, he turns the hot water just a little further, knowing how much you preferred it when it struck your skin.

Grabbing the bar of soap you bought from the last hunt, Din sits down and rests his back against the cold metal of the wall before pulling you towards him.

“Come to me mesh’la.” His voice is much more controlled and mellow than minutes before and you melt back into him as soon as his skin comes into contact with yours. You rest your back against his shoulder and sigh heavily when his hands begin to massage your arms. The scent of flowers hits your nostrils in seconds, making you relax even more as the soap washes away any trace of what you and Din had just done.

Din kisses your shoulder and neck as he rubs the soap on your chest and stomach, keeping his touches as appropriate as possible to distract himself from the hardening issue he was struggling with. Although he prefers you all sweaty and dirty, he makes sure to wash every inch of you, knowing that you probably needed to feel clean after...after what he’s done.

He pushes your back until you’re leaning forward far enough for him to wash your back as well. His breath hitches when he sees evidence of his touches on your skin from previous nights. Some of them have turned a light blue color while others were still purple.

Fuck. He didn’t know his grip was this harsh. He was a little guilty for bruising your skin, your lovely, beautiful, gorgeous skin. But the more he saw as he rubbed the soap over your back, the more pride he felt in his chest at the knowledge that he was the only one allowed to mark you.

“D-din…” You moan his name when he pulls you back into his chest and you feel his hands descend lower to wash your thighs. You think that he’s going to touch you where you ache for him but when he focuses on your thighs, you realize that he wasn’t going to go anywhere near your throbbing cunt.

“I’m here sweet girl, let me take care of you.” His whispers are laced with promises and affection and you’re not sure what to make of it. He’s never been this intense, this touch-starved, even this controlling. There’s something about the events of the night that tug at your heart and you wish you could ask him what has changed all of a sudden. But you don’t, instead repeating his words from earlier over and over again as he continues to wash you.

He told you, although indirectly, that you had the right to...to mark him, to own him. He begged you to drench him so everyone would know that he’s yours. That you’re his.

“Din please,” overcome with emotions, you slap the bar of soap away from him and use his surprise to your advantage, quickly turning around and holding onto his broad shoulders as you straddled his thighs.

“Ner ka'rta, we don’t have t-” Din keeps his hands to himself as he feels you rub yourself on his clothed cock. You instantly cut him off, molding your lips with his in a bruising kiss until his arms wrapped around your back. When you knew you had him, you pulled away and laid kisses across his handsome features. He was a moaning mess in no time and when you took hold of his chin and pushed it back, Din felt like he was travelling through the stars, the rough nips you were leaving across the jugular of his neck making him notice just how needy you were.

The hot water cascaded down your back as you assaulted Din’s skin and when you felt him grab your waist and begin to move you across of him, you knew he wasn’t going to deny you from what you wanted. Needed. Craved.

“I need you...now, please Din. I need to feel you inside me.”

“But-”

“Please? Oh maker, I- you said...you said you’d give me your cock if I wanted. And I do. I want you, I want your cock. I- you promised. I- I’ll do anything.” The sound of your desperate pleas sends a shiver down his spine and Din nods frantically just before you pull him out of his briefs.

“You- you’ve done enough for me cyar’ika. So so much. And I- I...oh-” Din throws his head back and shuts his eyes as soon as you lower yourself on his hard cock. He thinks he’s going to cum right then and there, but then you’re moving on top of him and squeezing him so tightly and he realizes that he needed to feel more of you. You cry out his name over and over again as he twitches against your tight walls, and when his eyes snap wide open and look at you, you can’t help but lean forward and bite into his shoulder to keep some semblance of control.

“S-sweet girl...lovely girl, tell me you’re mine.”

The short request causes you to falter in your pace but Din decides to take over again, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to move you on top of him.

“I- I’m yours Din, I’m yours. No one else can fuck me like you, n-no one can kiss me and touch me and take care of me like you...gods, you’re amazing. And you’re mine,” Din groans when he hears the last of your words and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you continue to whisper sweet things to him.

“You hear that Din...you’re mine. You- you belong to me, you touch only me...you, oh maker, you fuck only me. This cunt is yours baby and your cock was made for it. Made for me. You l-love only me. Right Din? P-please I’m...already so close. Tell me Din because you know...know that I love you. I love you. No one else. J-just you-”

Din is sure he might be suffocating you with how hard he’s hugging you right now but he doesn’t seem to notice because all he can hear is your declarations of love and commitment. Neither of you have ever come close to being this intimate but his earlier actions apparently unlocked something in the two of you.

You loved him. Even though he could be kinder, and was definitely too broken. You still loved him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. P-pfassk...I love you mesh’la. Only you...always you.” Din comes with a cry when he feels your nails digging into his back and he growls as his cock throbs inside you until he’s filled you with his cum. But he doesn’t stop, instead maintaining his pace just to see you fall apart one last time. It’s all too much and not enough, and he’s already oversensitive from coming but he has only himself to blame considering how much he edged himself the entire day. When he hears your gasps turn quieter, he knows you’re close and slithers his hand between your bodies to flick your clit. You moan into his shoulder as you quickly peak one last time, the touch of his fingers reminding you of what he’s done earlier and in a matter of seconds, you’re clenching around him so hard to the point where you’re not sure if you’re experiencing pain or pleasure.

Neither of you say anything as you slowly return to yourselves. When Din moves to try and turn the water off, you accidentally dig your nails deeper into his shoulder and make him hiss.

“S-sorry.” The small apology does something to Din and he decides that he needs to do this now and not when the two of you are in his cot. Twisting his hand into your hair, Din pulls it back until you’re forced to look at him. You stare at each other for what feels like hours before you lean forward and kiss him. It’s much slower and kinder than the earlier kisses and you smile when Din unintentionally thrusts into you. He pulls away and returns your expression when he sees how genuine it is.

“I think I should be the one apologizing ad’ika.”

You know what he’s referring to and you think that perhaps he’s beginning to feel more guilt at what he’s done but you brush it aside with a joke so he knew there was nothing of concern.

“Not sure what you’re talking about Din,” you leave a quick peck on his nose as you rest your cheek on his chest and hug him tightly. He recognizes what you’re doing right away and decides to not fight you, instead maneuvering you off of him to shut the water off. You try to stand but your legs give out immediately. Forutrantly for you, Din is there to catch you and he ignores your complaints as he carries you out of the refresher and into his room. You watch as he brings two towels and proceeds to dry you off, handing you the other one to dry your hair. You giggle when he almost stubs his toe as he comes back with a set of new clothes.

Din ignores your comments when you ask him why he was handing you one of his long sleeve shirts instead of your own, quickly putting on a pair of boxers before throwing the towels back into the refresher. When he comes back, you’re already comfortable and warm in his bed, the sight of you sniffing his pillows causing him to think of a multitude of thoughts. He brushes them all aside when you make room for him and ask him to come to you.

As he slithers underneath the covers, you waste no time and move closer to him until you’re sure you’re touching every inch of his skin.

“Are you okay mesh’la?” Although you know what he’s referring to by that question, you don’t bring up the topic, instead nuzzling into his chest. The sigh of content you hear tells you that he’s not overthinking what happened too much, and it signals for you to do the same because even though you never expected the day’s events, you can’t help but admit to yourself that one thing which you know Din will bring up when the two of you have properly rested.

As strange and sudden as it was, Din’s treatment of you turned you on.

Translations:

Mesh'la - beautiful

Cyar'ika - beloved

Ad'ika - little one

Ner ka'rta - my heart or my soul

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you

Some tags aren't working!

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @marsplsstop @ezrasbirdie @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul @bii-aan-ckaa @nohartandsole @djjarins @lamelyssher @giselatropicana @pescopadral @blackmarketmummy @laviipopii @ew-erin @fan-of-encouragement @melody13522 @clydesducktape @planetariumx @sambucky21 @thirddeadlysin @leannawithacapitala @fangirl-316 @thou-creature-of-the-deep

Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson @mrs-ghuleh @caitlynmarty

[blueeyedheizer]

Alive Again - Billy/Four x reader

TW: Language, Blood

--------------

"Eight, I need a hand !"

"Well I'm kind of busy right now. Why don't you ask Five?" You spat, still keeping an eye on your target from behind your sniper rifle. Four groaned at your answer and you rolled your eyes, holding your weapon firmly.

"Come on Eight, now's not the time to be a little bitch! I need backup!"

"Fuck you, Four."

"For God's sake can you two shut up already? I feel like i'm working with actual children!" One barked from the other side of the mic, and you could tell he was definitely getting angry at your childish attitude. There wasn't a day where you and Four weren't fighting, and every mission ended with you two yelling at each other for the silliest reasons.

"Eight, you go help Four, end of discussion." One continued.

"I'm on the other side of the goddamn building, how the fuck am I supposed to make it without dying !" You yelled, clearly loosing your patience as well.

"Two's got you covered, you're not dying today, got it? Now get a hold of yourself and go!" You let out a loud sigh and checked your surroundings carefully before running reluctantly towards the opposite direction of your target. You hated being given a task out of nowhere. You weren't very self-assured so everything you did had to be planned or you just weren't ready for it. The thing is, One didn't seem to get it and that pissed you off more than anything.

Your race against time was abruptly interrupted as soon as you stepped inside one of the building's luxurious rooms; a guard bursted in the room at the same time as you and aimed his gun at you, his finger firmly placed around the trigger.

That's it. I'm dying today. You thought.

The guy took a step closer to you, the grip on his gun tighter than it was seconds ago making you hold your hands up in defense.

"Drop your gun." the man threatened and you shook your head no.

"I said drop your fucking gun!" before you could even process what was happening, a loud bang was heard and the man's dead body fell on the floor, making you scream. His head was half gone and he was already laying in a pool of his own blood. You let out a scream in horror. "Holy fucking shit!"

"You're welcome." Two said, exhaling a deep sigh of relief. "Almost missed him." She tried to joke, but you weren't in the mood for that. Without letting yourself think too much, you swallowed hard and started running as fast as you could. You were used to seeing dead people since you joined the Underground but it was never easy to witness. You might have been declared dead but your feelings definitely didn't die with that part of you.

"Why did I get myself into this?" you whispered to yourself before continuing your way to find Four. You couldn't help but have some regrets about joining the Underground. Watching your family mourn you at your own funeral was one of the hardest thing to do, and you often felt like all of this wasn't worth it. Most of your missions were complete disasters, and the fact that all of you were still alive to this day was a miracle.

xx

After running for what seemed an eternity, you finally reached the opposite side of the building where Four was supposed to be.

"Alright asshole, back to you. Where are you?" you called.

No answer

"Four! Do you copy?"

"Eight-." his mic was crackling. He was in trouble. Just by hearing him say your code name, you could tell he was breathless, almost struggling to speak. You let out a gasp when a bullet flew right next to you, and you rushed to the closest safe place you could find.

"Shit! Guys, I think I'm surrounded."

"Yeah, there's three guys hot on your heels, but I've got them in sight. They won't follow you for too long. Keep running." Seven answered and you nodded before going back to making your way inside the building. "Four i'm gonna need some indications. Where are you?"

Still no answer.

"Four?" Your heart began to race when you heard fighting sounds and screams of pain coming from your mic.

"Eight...please, help..."

"I'm on my way. But I need to know where you are. Give me a hint. Anything you can tell me."

"He's gonna kill me."

"Fuck's sake...Just hang on. I'm coming to you." The mic made another crackling sound and then went silent.

"Guys we've got a problem" Three interrupted.

"God, what now?" you answered, your heart beating faster with every passing second.

"The cops are everywhere, we have to go now. They'll be surrounding the whole building anytime from now." You started running faster, being careful to check if every corner around you was clear.

"Eight, you have to come back. We're running out of time." One said through the mic.

"No, fuck this. I'm not leaving anyone behind. Just go without me, we'll find a way to get back to you guys."

One let out a sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. He was definitely not approving your decision but chose to let you handle the situation anyway. "Alright. Good luck. Don't die."

You closed your eyes tightly, realizing what you were doing. You were walking right into the lion's den, and you got yourself into it on your own.

Quickly, you dashed behind a wall, hiding from any potential enemy. You tried to catch your breath but your bulletproof vest was making it harder. After a few seconds, you peeked around and made your way towards a corridor where you could hear punches being thrown along with some loud crashing.

xx

You finally found Four after what felt like an eternity. He was being beaten up horribly, and you could hardly believe the scene in front of you. Four looked completely helpless, the pain was so unbearable that he didn't even bother screaming for help. You immediately grabbed your gun and shot the guy on top of him, and you heart sank at the sight in front of you. Four's face was covered in bruises, and dried blood matted his hair against his forehead. You held out your hand for him to take and told the team you'd found him. One, Three and Seven were arguing on the other side, but you weren't listening.

"You good?"

Four groaned and grabbed your hand, standing up painfully. "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?"

"Since when do you care?" he spat and you scoffed, trying to hide how hurt you were after hearing those words.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's go. We're running out of time"

----

Back to the HQ, you were sitting in front of your trailer, watching as Five took care of Four's multiple bruises. You couldn't help but feel angry at the sight of them being together. Was it jealousy? No. It couldn't be. You let out an unintentional scoff when you heard her laugh at something Four had said.

"So....Have you two fucked yet?" Two asked, taking a long drag of her cigarette and getting you out of your thoughts. You choked on your drink, making her chuckle.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Wha- Why on earth would I want to fuck him? I can't fucking stand him." you spat, throwing a cold glare towards his and Five's direction.

"Of course you don't. You just risked your life for someone you hate, nothing weird 'bout that. I would definitely do that too." Two answered as a smirk appeared on her face.

"Oh, fuck off Two. I don't like him. He's- he's selfish, self-centered, ungrateful and he's- he's....he's just a fucking asshole!" You yelled. Two was taken aback by your reaction, not expecting you to take her teasing so seriously. Everyone was looking at you, including Four and Five, and you'd never felt so exposed before. You could feel your cheeks began to burn so you shook your head and went inside your trailer, slamming the door shut behind you.

xx

You were laying on your bed when you got startled by the sound of your door opening. You sat up and groaned when your eyes met Four's.

"Haven't you heard of knocking? What do you want?" You got up from your bed and walked to the opposite direction of him, turning your back at him.

"Five told me I should say thank you for saving my life so, here I am." he was standing awkwardly in front of the door, his hand buried in his pockets. You scoffed.

"Yeah whatever. You're welcome, I guess. Now get out."

"What's your problem, Eight? Seriously. What's this all about?" he suddenly spat, making you turn around. "What did I ever do for you to hate me so much?" he added.

"What's my problem? I risked my fucking life for someone who wouldn't do the slightest for me, that's my goddamn problem !" you yelled, not even caring if the others could hear you. Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes but you fought hard to hold them back. Four stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. He broke the silence after a few seconds.

"You know that's not true, Eight." his voice was soft. So much softer than it had been only a moment before, which only made you want to cry harder.

You scoffed again and shook your head. "Oh come on. You and I both know it's true."

"Eight, come on..." Four took a few steps towards you and reached for your arm but you pulled back quickly, as if his touch would burn your skin.

"Y/N."

"What?"

"My name. It's Y/N."

Four could see how sad and broken you were, and to his own surprise he found himself wishing he could make all your pain go away. You two just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say. Four was obviously not expecting this when he walked into your trailer. He thought you'd be fighting again like you always did, but finding you so broken was the very last thing he expected to be confronted to. This time you were the first one to break the silence.

"I'm not the person I used to be." You confessed. "I can't even recognize myself and I don't know why I act the way I do." You choked out, as Four watched you with a sympathetic expression. "I'm so fucking pathetic I just-, I'm so sorry."

"Come here, Y/N." He opened his arms for you and you walked into them without hesitation, not caring about anything else at the moment. Him calling you by your real name was enough for you to let go and put all your bitterness aside. No one had ever held you since you joined the Underground, this being one year ago. But that's all you needed. To know that you were still a human being, worthy of being loved and cared about. You allowed yourself to sob against Four's shoulder, something you never thought you'd ever do.

"I just want to feel alive again."

[dork-knight-stephanie]

Crime Doesn't Pay

Crouched low, breathing steady, the night vision lenses of her cowl active, Batgirl counted the numbers in the warehouse where she was hidden silently. 

Twelve gang members. All with half masks or bandanas covering their faces. Only two of them armed with anything more than a blade or bat. 

A new forming gang. 

They must have been stupid.

“Alright boys, listen up, listen up. Tonight, we're gonna get the rest of you some heat. Then we're gonna start the real work on these streets.”

He sounded young. Not much older than her. Early twenties, maybe? She almost felt bad for what she was about to do to them. But it was better her than The Big Bad Bat, really.

‘Or was it?’

She mused as she flung a batarang (just a standard one, how boring) at the table in front of the 'leader’, already moving, sticking to the shadows, deactivating night vision on the go.

'At least if it was Batman, it would be, you know, Batman kicking the crap out of them, not a tiny blonde thing. Bah. They'll probably tell who ever it was Bats anyway…’

Steph would shrug to herself, a slight grin at the mental image at the thought. However, the batarang did what she wanted. They were spooked.

“Who's there?!”

Unable to help herself, she let out a laugh, continuing her movement.

“Did you really just ask that? With the Batarang right there?! In Gotham?! At NIGHT?! You poor sweet summer children…”

As she spoke, she kept on the move, her obviously feminine voice having them less on edge than they were, yet still spooked.

“Come out and fight like a man, you bat bitch coward!”

The one nearest to her yells, into the darkness about six feet to her left. Slowly, she grins, coils her legs under herself from her current perch on the shelving, and pounces, driving her knees into his chest, her hand on his head, forcing it into the floor. 

Vicious? Perhaps. But she was here to teach a valuable lesson, and even with that concussion, he wasn't likely to forget tonight's schooling. Stepping aside and giving her warmest smile, as opposed to a Batglare, she sat her hands on her hips.

“If you insist… Gentlemen, my name is Batgirl. I'm here to remind you that in Gotham, we do things a certain way. Shall we begin?”

One of the ones she noted was armed pointed at her, reaching for his gun.

“She's like, a hundred pounds, and we out number her, ten to one! Get her!”

The rush began. Knives thrusting towards her chest, baseball bats swinging in every direction.

“Those odds hardly seem fair. For you.”

She grinned, ducking the first bat to come for her head, catching the wrist holding the blade, striking the elbow, while twisting back on the hand, kicking the knife away.

Frankly, it was unfair, with how trained she was, and how unskilled they were. She had to admire their dedication though. Weaving through them, it might as well have been the lowest setting on the training simulations back in the Batcave. 

Steph found that she had begun toying with them. Letting them get body blows in, only to hit back harder across the face. One with a broken nose came back for more. She liked his moxy. She wasn't sure when she started using moxy. But here she was. 

There was a click, as something pressed against the back of her head. She had been toying with them too much, and not paying attention. Eyes quickly darting around, she noted that the two she pegged as armed with guns weren't on the floor around her.

Letting out a sigh, she slumped her shoulders slightly, and slowly turned in place, so the barrel was against her forehead. It was shaking.

“Stop right there Batgirl. I'll shoot. I will.”

His voice was younger than the others. But similar. A brother? That would explain why he was also armed when the others weren't. 

Keeping a neutral expression, she blinked once, examining his face. His dark eyes were terrified. Shooting a look over to the other armed one, who hadn't left the table (some leader he was), his hand on his gun, watching intently, Steph knew what she was going to do.

“Big Brother pulled you into this mess, huh? You really wanna end up Bat fodder when you could be home? In bed? Not getting hospitalized?”

Little Brother looks back at Big Brother, shakes his head, pulls off his half mask and shoves the gun into Steph's hands.

“I didn't wanna be here at all…”

Big brother puffs up indignantly, slamming his fist into the table.

“Eric! You're meant to have my back!”

Shuffling off towards the door, stepping around the bodies of the beaten and broken, Eric left, Steph dismantled the gun, throwing it in opposite directions.

“Good call, Eric. Get home, and call the GCPD. And you…”

She turned her attention to Big Brother, with a grin.

“We have some things to talk about, don't we bud?”

He, however, disagreed, and took off like a shot, taking his gun, down the hall, further into the dark warehouse. Steph sighed slightly, rolling her eyes, and went out the window, following on roof, activating her heat vision lenses in her cowl. Once he had stopped moving in, in a loading dock, and was spinning around in place, obviously looking for her. Slipping in through a long busted window, and returning to regular vision, she caught the last part of a rant.

“-creepy fucking bats just lurking around in the damn dark!”

Unable to help herself, she crawled along the top of a rafter, starting her talk and relocate routine again.

“Have you idiots ever considered meeting in well lit places during the day then? Maybe we wouldn't be a factor then. Just putting it out there.”

Apparently, Big Brother wasn't playing around. He fired three shots in the directions her voice came from. All missed her, just. One clipped a fire extinguisher, filling the area with a growing cloud of whirling, thick fog like obstructive gas.

“Whoops… maybe you should watch where you're shooting, Tex. You are keeping track of your shots, right? Because I am… three more. Make them count…”

She should just end it. Here and now. But if this punk was stupid enough to try to start a gang, in Gotham she needed him to understand what that meant.

Darting across the floor now, causing the cloud to swirl around her, she dropped down into a baseball side, under the long forgotten truck, as another shot fired off behind her, ricocheting off the floor somewhere, lost.

“Ooh, unlucky. Two more…”

Was it bad that she was enjoying herself? Probably a little. She could practically hear Batman in her ear, telling her to end it already. 

Crawling silently up on top of the truck, she did something, frankly, bordering on cruel and unusual punishment territory. She flung a gooparang at his feet, and ran along the top of the truck, vanishing down the back behind him, as he fired at her.

GOOP

Her beloved green goop detonated from its pods, encasing his legs from the knees down, trapping him in place.

“And then there was one!”

She called from somewhere behind him. He did with the shot what she thought he might. Try to shoot at the goop. It did nothing.

Steph thought about immediately pouncing on him. But watching him strain his eyes and ears to try to find her, jumping at every little sound, the cars on the freeway in the distance, the rats in the walls, kinda amused her.

She had some problems she needed to work out. She knew.

After five minutes, she had crept up behind him, and lightly tapped his shoulder.

“So, what did we learn here tonight?”

He screamed. Of course he did. It took everything she had to not laugh.

“That crime doesn't pay. Please. Miss Bat. Batgirl please don't hurt me. Please…”

Circling to his front, she raised a brow, not that he could see it under her cowl.

“Oh, honey. Don't worry. You won't feel a thing…”

He looked like he was about to start thanking her, when she grabbed the back of his head and drove him, skull first into her knee, which she swung upward with just as much force. 

She lied. He'd feel it when he woke up.

[theangrypokemaniac]

Sinnoh has massive flaws as an era, although it's starting to feel like the good old days compared to the present piss-poor offerings.

The major drawback is the amount of 'recurring characters', ones not good enough to be in it fully, but inflicted upon us nevertheless.

I did care about Ash. I did care about Team Rocket.

I was prepared to care about The Misty Replacement, as in the girl shipped with Ash.

I was prepared to care about The Brock Replacement, that is the older brother figure who does all the cooking, carries the medicine, and knows about Pokémon.

I don't give a toss about extras who outstay their welcome.

Hoenn only had Drew and Harley. What was wrong with that?

There are just too bloody many.

Why does Dawn require so many opponents, as if she's of the greatest importance? Why won't Jessie suffice?

I accept the necessity of Paul as The Rival, and we were at least permitted to resent him initially, before the writers fanboy'd like there was no tomorrow.

I admit I liked two of them. They therefore featured the least.

Typical.

Nando

The Blondel of Iberia

A softly-spoken, raven-locked troubadour, roaming the many pathways of life, playing his songs for those weary travellers he encounters on the road.

He's wearing a cloak! The finest use of material to ever be invented!

All this ethereal grace considering the dub lumbered him with the most appallingly unsuitable name possible.

It could've been Raphael, or Dante, or Leonardo.

Oh no, let's name him after a restaurant chain. That adds gravitas.

His lyre pays tribute to Mew, because Nando knows she's The Rarest Of All Pokémon, thus refuses to be impressed by any deformed horse like Arceus throwing its weight around.

Damn straight.

Ursula

A pretty girl with lovely clothes and the spark of a proper personality.

You're not wanted round these parts, love.

I have no particular animosity towards Dawn, but it irritates me how the world revolves around her whims, where if she's lost in the woods, it's a major disaster, and if an attack heads in her direction, she must be protected in case she shatters.

It makes a refreshing change to find someone firmly inoculated against the lures of the temptress.

Also, alongside Ursula from Dinosaur King (the real Jessie), I'm glad of any attempt to reclaim that name, considering most of my generation, upon hearing it, think only about evil old octopus women.

As for the rest?

It's that bad I prefer the Unova bunch to these.

Reggie

Reggie is even more of a knob than Paul. As above, being Ash's enemy meant that, if only by narrative, he was intended to be somewhat disliked.

Not Reginald. No, he's the kind one.

Oh really?

When Ash and Paul have their showdown, Reg starts wittering that it's just as well Chimchar took up with Ash, since he wasn't suited to Paul's 'battle style'.

Battle style.

Is the what he calls mental and physical cruelty?

In Reg's amoral cesspit of a mind, there is no right and wrong, so do whatever you feel.

Reggie is quite aware of how his brother tortures Pokémon, and not only is he unconcerned, he excuses it with euphemism, hoping the audience will obligingly forget too.

What's more, he implies it's Chimchar's fault for not pulling his weight, and Paul abandoning him was the compassionate thing to do.

Cynthia

Suffering severe Bridge Nose Syndrome.

She may be Champion, but I don't remember Lance turning up all the time where he wasn't wanted.

She doesn't even use her influence properly. Rather than give it straight to Paul, order him to shape up and stop spanking the monkey, she fannies about with her cod mysticism, emptily preaching about how Ash and Paul are spiritually linked, with magical, beeyewteefull events taking form just because they met.

That's right, don't bother about Paul clearly being a psychopath, for 'tis ART!

It's the same as trying to convince me that Ash, Dawn and Brock were the Divine Trio because they all saw Something Nasty In The Lake District, as if they have an intrinsic bond foretold in ancient prophecy.

The writers pull this knowing two thirds of the Holy Trinity, plus Paul the Fallen Angel, will be leaving, at which point we'll be expected to stop being overawed at the great majesty they all apparently possess and transfer allegiance to their usurpers.

What's the point?

Angie

Yet another smackhead from that lunatic stare.

What shining genius decided giving all the characters contracted pupils was a good idea?

She looks like one of those kids whose parents dealt with nits the traditional way:

Shaving the entire head and painting it purple.

A barnet resembling privet hacked at by a paralytic gardener before he conked out.

I've seen her arc three or four times, and I still remember nothing about her, except for the amazing skill she possesses to make Ash sneeze on command from a distance.

Conway

One word: nonce.

A clichéd weirdo fitting into Pokémon's Four-Eyed Freaks fixation, where anyone with a slight visual impairment is a weedy, know-it-all bastard or on a register.

Oh yes, and this lad comes with hidden delights, because his glasses gleam like a giant cockroach, just in case he wasn't creepy enough.

Zoey

The human black hole. Has the incredible ability to suck all the joy out of a room just by appearing. A personage of absolute lead.

Too nice and over familiar, lacking a single detectable personality trait.

Bland, empty, and with the charisma of vomit-sodden cardboard.

Sinnoh is a prolonged saga as it is, padded with nonentities like her and Kenny.

Alright, episodes must be devoted to Dawn's Contest career, however tiresome it is, but why exactly do we need any about Zoey and Kenny? Why should we care?

Every time I sat through a competition Dawn lost, I resented that she was no further along on her quest, equating to another episode eaten away by this shallow, blackened hymn to superficiality.

Compare this indulgent treatment to the sneering disrespect shown to Jessie, an actual main character, who not only had to win her Ribbons practically off screen, but the writers delighted in hammering home how worthless she was in only scraping into the Grand Festival because Princess Salvia took pity on the deluded wretch.

They favour their own inventions over the original cast, then dump 'em as soon as the next generation arrives, so how could they ever matter if even the creators eagerly cast them aside?

After all the effort on my part to put up with the entire witless farce, Zoey beats Dawn in the finals!

Why?!

I understood the unspoken law of Ash not being allowed to win a League until the very last series, for fear whatever came after would be anticlimactic, but why should this deadening failure apply to May and Dawn?

By the culmination of the Contest rigmarole, it's obvious they'll be making their exit for the next region's Girl, so why couldn't either bid farewell to the fans with a victory?

Why must they be incompetent too?

Even if achieving their dream dampened any hunger to carry on, they're departing anyway, so what difference does it make?

At least Ash will continue, but for May and Dawn, it's the end.

How could any fan be satisfied with a smarmy vacuum of a creature like Zoey succeeding instead?

Barry

Eyes of molten evil.

The second-worst character ever created (Iris is top of the ranks), Barry is a smug, arrogant, screeching dweeb jabbering his oh-so endearing catchphrase about fining anyone who slightly irks him, so sure is he that his feelings should come above everyone else's

He truly believes he has a God-given entitlement to demand lesser lifeforms should arrange themselves to suit his pleasure, that they are morally compelled to shield him from  meagre inconvenience.

Twat.

Knocking the little geck out of the League was the most noble thing Paul ever did. It practically redeems him.

This is what I cannot comprehend:

Ursula is openly conceited, rude to Dawn, and brags about her own excellence even after losing.

We're asked to dislike her.

Barry slags Ash off constantly, is convinced of his own divinity, and jeers at Team Rocket.

We're supposed to see him as a 'good guy' and welcome his arrival.

Why? Are Ash and Team Rocket fair game, but offending Saint Dawn's intolerable?

Again, it astounds me how temporary, region-specific stars seem to count for more than those who've been here since the beginning.

Whilst they're here, that is. Once gone, you wouldn't know they'd existed.

Kenny

He wears a matador outfit to compete.

It's a crying shame Tauros was never given the opportunity to gore him.

As usual, it's Piplup I blame.

Each generation likes to flaunt the starter Pokémon, presumably in the hope of flogging more games, that's why Ash usually catches all three, or they're spread out amongst his friends.

It's about time Team Rocket had one.

Can't do that, they only appear five times per series now.

Piplup is a whiny attention whore who refuses to evolve. In consequence, he can't advertise the next stages in the evolution chain, so we have to keep seeing Barry and Kenny instead, that's why Empoleon and Prinplup are always walking about.

This equates to three characters having the same Pokémon, albeit in different incarnations.

There's variety.

However, Kenny's true purpose is much more grim than that.

Fans will ship Ash with The Girl, a useless endeavour when it's destined to come to nothing when she's kicked out.

In Hoenn and Sinnoh, an effort was made to wean shippers off in preparation for the upcoming split, so alternative suitors were introduced, with the girls effectively pushed on to them.

May got Drew.

I don't mind that. He had some refinements.

Dawn got Kenny.

...

What, you want me to cheer for such a revolting couple?

Have I not suffered enough?

What unpardonable crime did Dawn do to deserve such a horrible fate?

She's not a bad-looking girl. She can do better than an ugly, portly, shrunken, pie-faced cretin! 

You do this to me when Nando exists?

Sod the age gap, that never concerned anyone here.

This being the Kenny who spends four years belittling Dawn by constantly reminding her of a humiliating childhood experience, even giving her a nickname too!

Dawn is visibly distressed when he does this, but he's a fine candidate for romance?

She has to settle for a sweaty, lecherous herbert like him, who doesn't even try to atone for his unfortunate mug by being kind?

I suspect the whole Sinnoh adventure was really him wearing down her self-esteem until she believed he was the best available, wanting her to be grateful for his slobbery attentions.

It won't stop there either. He'll trap her for the rest of her life by isolating her from friends, followed by accusations of how undeserving she is of his 'love'.

Such is Dawn's lot: absent father, pushy mother, whinging penguin and abusive boyfriend.

Kenny's already a perv:

He's not looking at her face.

She knows he's not.

Ash and Pikachu have noticed an interesting feature further down.

Aipom likes it too.