Scarf the Magic-User

It’s April Fools’ Day, and I must say, you’re very well-dressed for the occasion! Quite a lovely jester costume there :3

… hm? You say you aren’t wearing one? Just give it a second, the changes aren’t over quite yet… Oh, uh, it might not turn all of your clothing into a jester costume, though. Especially if you’re wearing multiple layers. So, yeah, sorry in advance if things start to conflict a little bit…

Anyways, it’ll wear off (no pun intended, probably!) by the end of the day, so don’t fret if it isn’t your style! It’s not every day that I get to turn people into more jesters like me…

- Leonie, a jestergirl

You follow along, something in the back of your mind bothering you. Things are a little hazy, but it isn’t too bad. After some indeterminate amount of time looking through so many of the comfy costumes, you finally come across one that’s just perfect for you. It fits perfectly, it’s the perfect color, the perfect look… but as you slip into it, you realize what was bothering you before. “I’m dreaming…”

A sadness lingers within you as you briefly return to the waking world. It’s still too dark to see, and you’re only half-awake, but just before you lose consciousness again, you notice something… Something soft surrounding your body, that you didn’t put on before going to bed.

It’s still there the following morning.

You decided to leave it on through the changes. It felt symbolic, to emerge from these pathetic rags, this mockery of the form you were always meant to have, while finally changing into that very form, for real. To break free from the pretending, and step into the real deal.
“Uh… o-okay.” The mage seemed a little conflicted about your decision. Maybe he was concerned about the costume being expensive or something? Whatever, you’d ask him later, he was preparing the spell now.
The transformation was just as glorious as you’d hoped. Your hands outgrew your gloves, splitting the stitching apart. Your shifting ears knocked that silly headband off of your head, the attached fabric protrusions replaced by living, flicking, hearing versions. Your spine stretched out and pushed the mass of plush hanging over your butt aside. When it was all over you couldn’t help but reach up and tear your top right in half. You went ahead and shredded everything else off too. You no longer needed clothing! You had nothing to hide now!
As you turned to thank the mage for his help, you found him crouched down on the floor, picking at the pieces of your discarded cocoon. They began to form together, glowing faintly with his magic as they fused, the tears undoing themselves. As for the mage himself… frankly, he looked exhausted. Worryingly so.
“Hey, what are you doing?” you said. “I don’t need that anymore!”
“Oh. C-can I have it, then? It’s a nice costume…” he replied. “I can repair it with my magic… in fact I’m almost done… see, I deal with a lot of garment destruction, so this spell is really handy… almost done…!”
Before you had time to wonder what this guy’s deal was, he collapsed on the floor. “Woah, are you okay!?” you shouted, rushing to his side. His body was unusually chilly to the touch.
“Aah… I-I rarely deal in permanent transformations, and I’m not good at performing them very efficiently… must’ve t-taken more out of me than I realized… and now I’ve gone and used my last bit of magic to repair your costume… o-oops, hehe…”
“That doesn’t answer my question!” you shoot back. “Are you okay or not?”
“Oh, r-right, I’m sure I’ll be fine… I just get a bit chilly when I’m low on magic like this, th-that’s all…” He was shivering awfully, and you realized he’d been stammering a bit due to the cold making his teeth chatter.
Yeah, no, you weren’t just gonna leave him like this. To thank him for all he did for you (not that you weren’t paying him at least a little already), you decided to get him nice and cozy first. He’d need a warm drink, a comfortable place to sit, and… hmm…
Well, there was already one set of warm garments readily available here.
After helping him with the more functionally warm pieces like the gloves, you went ahead and put the ears and tail on him too, just for fun. They were of no use to you, but… he wore them well. He was basically dressed up as you. How cute!
You left the costume-loving mage’s house once you realized that he’d fallen asleep, bundled up in your old cocoon on his couch. Despite wanting to tell your friends about your new body right away, you headed straight home. As excited as you were, you felt that it’d be best to hold off on sharing what’d happened until his magic could replenish.
That way, when your friends inevitably wanted changes of their own, he’d be ready.

Imagine feeling a bit of a fullness in your gut. You haven’t eaten anything but you still feel bloated. You look bloated too, a little. You feel like you’re filling up with something.

And you are, in both a physical and metaphysical way. The stuffing pushing your softening tummy out (and out, and out!) from within might not have much mass, but its conceptual weight is undeniable. As it grows, it’s squeezing out concepts like “biology”, “muscles”, “organs”, “fluids”, shoving it all aside until only “fluff” remains.

This isn’t a violent destruction (the concepts of “violence” and “gore” don’t have enough room to intrude here). Rather, things are simply being tucked away somewhere that can’t be seen. They will return in time, so for now, just enjoy the gentle pressure of your body puffing up, skin-turning-fabric rubbing against your clothing. Doesn’t it feel nice when your joints get eaten up? Or is “dissolved” a better word? I know I said they aren’t being destroyed, but for now, they might as well be.

Your thickening arms lifting up at your sides just a little, stretching your sleeves just a little… your hands pudging into, oh, wow, your hands, just pop-pop-popping out into whatever you want, really. Paws, or hooves, or just nothing, just the thick, bappy ends of your tube-like arms. The notion of “dexterity” was squeezed out so quickly…

More stuffing is makes its way down your legs, which surge out with growth, your skin stretching with a teensy bit of tension before it grows synthetic fur and changes to fabric, its surface area expanding to compensate for your greater volume. And your tail blossoms out in a fluid motion, inflating like a balloon. None of that fancy “you feel your spine extending” nonsense. Your body doesn’t have room for it. What kind of tail do you have? Long, short, stumpy, floppy, puffy, fluffy, bushy? Or maybe none at all? Thanks for sticking around and considering the tail, either way :P

Your feet go the way of your hands, but this time there might be footwear in the way. Not for long, though, because this time there isn’t any physical room for them. They are easily blown apart by whatever now marks the ends of your glorious, cylindrical plushie legs.

The stuffing is filling up your head. Your ears inflating and pushing out into new shapes. Your mouth going dry and maybe even sealing shut, if you’re so inclined. Maybe a bit of extra material padding out behind your mouth and nose give you a cute muzzle. Your eyes become glass, or plastic, or buttons, or stitched-on details, or some other impervious thing. Your hair remains, or doesn’t. Your head is blowing up to cartoonish proportions and your brain isn’t sticking around for it. Don’t need it to think in this state, anyways. Or do you? Does this rob you of motion? Speech? Thought? It’s up to you. Being conscious to experience this form could be quite lovely, but so could the nap.

Imagine, though. Imagine being a plushie. Becoming a plushie. The process, the destination. No more room for anything that isn’t softness.

Isn’t that nice?