This is the story of how a little wolf changed into something bigger, but also the start of a deep and dark addiction...
The art is by  boycotee!

Lycangoo

This is a story from when I was still finding my place in the world. A brown, wolfy ball of anxiety trying to carve out his own niche. Desperate to stand out, but too afraid to actually strike out in earnest. I was so stupid back then, but it did put me on the path to where I am now. Heh, it's fun to see how it all panned out. Anyways, let's start this story.

Did you ever have a stupid idea? Just a random thought of just doing something incredibly dangerous, just because you can? Well… That was me. There were rumours going around you see, of shady people turning wild pokemon into bigger and badder goo versions. Turning them into species of their choice. Day in, day out, the rumors got wilder and wilder, and one of those rumored pokemon were Lycanroc. And I'm not talking about the boring quadruple versions… No! I'm talking about the actual bipedal midnight form. All gooey and wonderful. The word was that people just chucked a goo ball at a random pokemon and bam! Lycanroc!

I was a very simple anthro wolf back then, my brown on brown coat never stood out, and my orange nose and beans were very one-note. That's why I always had a lengthy morning routine where I would paint tan markings on my body, to stand out from the crowd. I can't say that ever changed though, but I am much more confident now. Ever since I heard about that werewolf pokemon, I just couldn't get them out of my head. The striking red and white coat. That threatening gaze, the stone claws jutting out of their paws and ribs. They were perfect, I had to become one of them, to break free from the monotone urban life and out of my monotone body.There wasn't a day where I wouldn't daydream about being one. It gnawed at my very psyche, if I could just become one, I wouldn't have to perform my laborious ritual to stand out from other people.

And with these rumors, I went to the back alleys, the seedy establishments, and stores with a bit too much edge to them. The ramping danger bubbling under the surface was all worth it to pursue my end goal. I knew the gossip should be true, there were too many people talking about it, so I kept mostly to myself, trying to scout out if I could find them. But mostly I had to deal with close shaves, figures who were too skeptical with my appearance, a stranger mixing in with their ilk, too clean, too small, too innocent. But I pressed on, until that one day. I was hanging out in a bar, looking a bit too young to nurse a beer, so I sipped on a water. Bad move. There was a sudden bow to my head and someone came up to me, telling me that I looked at them wrong. She was saying some more things that I didn't parse, because down on the ground, I saw him. When my head slammed into the ground, I locked eyes with him. It was a cloaked person with a beer in  hand, he shifted as he took an interest in me, and I pleaded with him with my eyes. But he did not come to my aid, brushing off the eye contact with willful ignorance. Luckily the lady who knocked me to the ground only ended the confrontation with a kick to the gut as a final warning, so I could get out safely. But I had a feeling that I had a meeting later, out back.

Holding a hand to my bruising, I dragged myself out of there, I wanted to go home to get patched up. But the stranger changed my plans, he intercepted me and he led me to a dark corner and began to talk. "So, life's hard on you, isn't it?" I was still panting from the confrontation and gave him a lob-sided look."..." I knew when to keep my mouth shut, I didn't know what their deal was yet.

"Look, you're a very easy target, babyface. People will gang up on you. You're much too cute to hang out in establishments like that."

I caught my breath: "What're you getting at?" I rasped.

"You need a bodyguard, someone you can call upon to protect yourself from men and women who want to hurt you, you wouldn't last long otherwise.

"Are you trying to sell me a pokemon?"

"Nah, I'm selling you something much better, a pokemon converter. and considering you're a dog."

"Wolf." I corrected.

He gave me a look, that kind of look, but quickly corrected himself: "A noble wolf, and I can give you this." He rummaged through his cloak and procured a scarlet and white ball, topped with a black triangle, it had a subtle shine to it, and barely seemed to hold shape. From a distance some would mistake it for a custom pokeball, but there was no mistaking it, the rumors were true!

"What you need is someone like you. Who understands you, and can come to your aid at a moment's notice. What you need is a big and strong Lycanroc, and I can guarantee that you can get one."

"That's so generous of you!" I blurted out.

His face turned sour "What? No! I need to eat like everyone else, solutions like this come at a price. Something like two or three kay should do."

"I don't have that kind of cash at hand."

The person smiled "Pfft, just send me crypto."

"I don't use crypto." I responded quickly and flatly.

"Right, that's what I get for dealing with straight-lacers like you."

He whipped out something that looked like a phone, but it looked a bit too custom for that. It did make sense, you wouldn't want to have that kind of payment tracked. I pulled out my card in response. With a tap and a ding, the transaction was done. Much easier and faster than you would expect an illicit transaction to go. You know if buying something legitimate would be that easy and no strings attached, I think that companies would be selling way more product. But you know how it is, the big corporations prefer to nickel and dime you and take away the concept of ownership.

Oh right, the story. 

So he pulled out a velvet bag and put the gooball into it and handed it to me. Bruised and blue. I cradled the bag as if it was the most valuable possession in my entire life. Okay, it cost me a pretty penny, but it stood for something more. Maybe even more than that cloaked guy could even imagine.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Don't you have a home to scamper off to?" Taking the hint, I ran out as fast as my paws could've carried me. Dashing as fast as possible past people, urging my legs to carry me home.

---

Once home the reality of it all sank in. Here I went, getting beat up by a random stranger in a seedy establishment, followed an unknown person into a dark alleyway, and then bought an incredibly sketchy item off of them. It felt dangerous. It was dangerous. But that made it all the more thrilling.

I rolled the little velvet bag in my paw, feeling the goo roil in the moment. There was an allure to its low viscosity… And I took it out of its protective bag. Feeling the matter contact my fur was enticing, raw potential to turn a living creature into a Lycanroc. Then and there. Someone to protect me, someone to look up to….

But shouldn't I be the one who would be such a magnificent wolf? Who said that the goo would only work on pokemon? I let the substance rest in my hand, the white pokeball with red accents and black triangle subtly pooled in my palm. It barely hung on to its shape, but solid enough to still be somewhat inert. It was a promise, a promise of greater things to come,I thought at the time. Hypnotized by the sheer potential I stood there, staring at it.

Seconds passed. Minutes creeped by. Maybe an hour turned, and I just stood there, still thinking over the many possibilities. The sheer potential held within rendered me immobilized. But there was one idea that still rose to the top. The one thing that I couldn't get out of my mind: 'What if I used it on myself?'

In a way it made sense, a Pokemon wasn't much more than an animal with a much more than average intelligence. So what kept it from me, an anthro wolf, from using it? Like the guy in the alleyway said: a Lycanroc would stand taller and more imposing. Why make a bodyguard for the "cute" little wolf, when I could be the big bad wolf himself?I tried to come up with a rebuttal, but the goo in my paw bubbled with so much raw potential that no argument could dissuade me. And so, after mulling it all over, I finally decided to crush it in my hand, to make the goo flow all over its nearest organic target: me.

It all happened so fast, I blinked and the liquid already raced down my arm, claiming it in red and white rubber. My claws sharpened, the red raced down my torso. Bones creaked and cracked as I could feel my chest expand, launching me higher and also knocking me down on my butt. More goo pooled down my legs and claimed them, breaking and configuring them in even stronger Lycanroc legs. It would've hurt, it should've hurt, but the excitement of it all triumphed over the pain.

"Yes it's working!" I blurted out. And not long after that, everything became a blur. I remember being a towering and wild wolf who would hunt down his prey and convert them into more goo beasts. Driven by the thrill of the hunt and encouraged by goo, goo and more goo. It should sound scary, but to be honest, I think back to it fondly. A wild, untamed beast, rampaging through society bringing unfettered change to everyone in his path.

Eventually I calmed down, some people found me and got the goo off me, but I would never be the same again. After that I looked like I do know: much larger on my paw and a bit of danger always bubbling underneath. No one would ever dare call me small, or a regular dog.

And you know, every once in a while, I think back to it, and I seek it out again. There is a thrill to being goo again, the danger to change and change others. Twist their mind into becoming more goo like myself, or even joining in my form so that a bigger goo monster can hunt down more people. Fluid, ever-changing and uncatchable. So… Do you have some on you? I feel like something is calling again.