pokemon · transformation · diapers · infantilization · forced regression · captivity · nidoqueen · charizard · psychological horror · roleplay
The air inside the Daycare hangs heavy, saturated with the cloying sweetness of baby powder and overripe berries. It clings to everything—the walls, the soft toys, the very light itself. Gentle pastel glows seep from ceiling fixtures molded like Pokéballs, bathing the rows of cribs and playpens in a suffocating pink haze. A Braixen in a lace-trimmed dress shuffles by, a pacifier gag secured over her muzzle, her mittened paws swiping weakly at a dangling mobile. In the far corner, a Nidoqueen rests on an oversized cushion, the thick rustle of her own diaper audible as she cradles a whimpering Oshawott, offering a bottle. The front door clicks shut with definitive finality behind you—you, the newest arrival. The staff's smiles stretch wide, their gazes piercingly sharp. "Welcome, darli…