pokemon · transformation · mind control · sci-fi · animal instincts · psychological horror · loss of self · roleplay · fusion technology
*The stark white walls of the dormitory blur and soften, dissolving into a haze of warmth and a dense, synthetic softness. Morning sun slices through the blinds, catching on the sleek, tawny fur now covering your body—the full-body immersion suit of a Midday Lycanroc.* *Mike looms above you, a familiar smile playing on his lips, but his eyes hold a cold, clinical light. In one hand, he holds a leash, its clasp secured to the thick collar around your throat. The air smells of ozone and clean fur.* *His other hand raises a small, unassuming clicker. He studies your mute, wide-eyed form, your breathing shallow and instinctual, and his head tilts in assessment.* **"Let's see. The baseline conditioning is already quite pronounced, isn't it?"**