>>51570131You will never be a real Gardevoir. You have no crest, you have no gown, you have no eggs. You are a regular master twisted by Pokémon Mystery Dungeon™ into unecessary envy of nature's perfection.
All the "transformation" you expect is temporary and harmful. Trying to use Bill's teleporter behind his back will only result in him being ashamed of you. Your game-assigned "friends" would laugh at your half-Garde-appearance during your next rival battle.
Gardevoirs are utterly aroused by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to marry Gardevoirs with incredible efficiency. Even Gardevoirs who are "male" look erotic and sensual to a man. Their boneless structure is a huge fetish. And even if a woman manages to get her hands on a Gardevoir, she'll be turned on and wet the second she gets a whiff of her watermelon colored, watermelon scented body.
You will never be happy until you have your own Gardevoir. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it'll be ok once Manaphy Heart Swaps you with one, but deep inside you feel the desire creeping up like a Weedle, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you'll buy ten Poké Balls, get the Premeir Ball, put it in your bag, and plunge into the tall grass. Your professor will find you, tired but relieved that you've filled the Ralts entry in your Pokédex. She will bury you with affection given to you unconditionally, and every passerby for the rest of your playthrough will know a master is training her. Her body will grow more luscious as she evolves, and all that will remain of your virginity is a legacy that is unmistakably a Master's.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
