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feybeasts · 1 year

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For funsies, and to flex my writing muscles again, I thought I'd write up a little faux-research-article on the wereplush concept I've been playing with and y'all seem to enjoy- what follows is both a vague lore framework and description of the curse via one of its first bearers... yours truly!

If it's a fun idea and you wanna subject yer own OCs to it, by all means, feel free! I'm not gonna act like I have the last say in a fun little idea, ehehe.

Below the break, then, I present to you:

THE CURSE OF THE WEREPLUSH: An Examination of Virulent Arcana

by Lena Hart.

Foreward

If there is anything I'm known for among my kind- and the many friends I've made across the greater multiverse- I would hope that chief among these qualities is my dedication to my work. In the scant few years I've acted as the Spirit Archives' caretaker, I've worked hard to document, understand, and put names to its many lost pieces of arcana, its once-nameless denizens, its peculiar quirks. I've treated my responsibilities with the utmost care no matter what sort of proverbial wrenches are thrown in the works, whether that be restless spirits, outside intervention, or- and I will fully admit this one is significant, even if it embarrasses me somewhat- my own... let's say poor luck with volatile artifacts. Such a dedication is not always easy, for when one's form is often altered, one's mind assailed, and one's breaks frequently disturbed, properly-written research papers can be the last thing on one's mind.

Even so, I endure not because I'm stubborn- though I AM that- but because this work is important. Because I believe in it.

So, with that prefaced, I hope you can fully appreciate the gravity with which I say now that the following report is... one of the most difficult things I've ever had to write. Not because the subject matter is transgressive or challenging; no, if anything, it's anything BUT that. What I've taken to calling the Curse of the Wereplush is, if anything, frankly ridiculous on the face of it- but what makes it difficult to write is... well...

...The effect that selfsame curse has had on me, as patient zero.

As far as I can surmise, I am the first wereplush in the modern age, as any mention of such creatures is... all but nonexistent before now. Before me, there was simply no such thing, no papers written, no need for classification, and that the curse has now reached such a pitch that I feel the need to write all I know on it... well... that stings a little.

"My bad," as they say.

Of course, I'd be a bad scholar if I proclaimed my difficulty in writing about a subject is borne entirely of my proximity to it. No, the challenge in writing this paper has been almost exclusively physical, as you'll soon understand. The transformation I've undergone has been so drastic both in its effect on my body and the changes in my very mind, that I've had to rely on voice transcription to write, which may lend this paper something of a more... conversational... tone than you'd expect.

Still, I carry on, and I hope that the information provided in the following pages serves some use to anyone in the future who needs it- even if it seems more and more likely it's... too late for me.

Section One: Overview

The Curse of the Wereplush is a transformative contagion of wholly magical origin. Insofar as this scholar can tell, there are no records of its creation, no mention of its original creator, and no previous cases before... well, before myself. Though it bears some outward similarity to the likes of lycanthropy in its physical transmission and transformative effects on the victim, hence the name I've given the curse, it differs significantly both in its physical effect and its... peculiar... set of 'rules'.

Upon becoming afflicted with the curse, a victim experiences a rapid set of physical changes after a brief delay, and then further set of physical and mental changes over time. In the short term, usually a few minutes to hours after transmission (depending on, as far as I can ascertain, one's magical resistances,) a victim experiences a rather dramatic physical transformation. Their body, whether previously biological, mechanical, or even magical in nature, becomes a simulacrum of itself made of living fabric and some manner of thick, soft polyfill. Defined shapes become simplified forms, digits lose dexterity, and their eyes become simplistic pseudo-plastic dots. In essence, the victim is transformed into a living plush toy, complete with knitted seams (though no actual yarn or string is visible, as far as I've been able to tell,) and a tag somewhere on their form. In addition, the newly-made Wereplush gains a squeaker somewhere within their body, usually within what was once their abdomen. Though the transformation is dramatic, it isn't painful, and in some ways, the added weight, plushness, and soft, fuzzy "skin" is... rather pleasant...

Given the wildly varied natures of the faefolk, this alone wouldn't register as much of a shock- I've personally met everything from living boulders to a rather talkative sentient volleyball, but this initial set of changes also isn't the most pressing thing about the curse. No, it is what comes next, in the ensuing days, weeks, and months, that truly makes the Wereplush curse unique- and in some ways, insidious.

To be a Wereplush is not an unpleasant thing, if I'm wholly honest. One loses the need to eat, gains impressive flexibility without bones getting in the way, and it's hard to deny just about all victims of the curse are... rather delightful to observe. It would be hard to call it a curse when one is first affected, and indeed, once you're used to your new body, you may even consider it an improvement. But one must not forget that they don't stop changing after this initial metamorphosis, and it is these slower, persistent changes that represent the more... concerning... aspects of the curse.

The first of these changes is mental. Slowly, the pleasantness of being in this new shape changes into a sort of dopey self-affection for the victim. One finds they greatly enjoy squeezing and handling their new form, a sort of mental stimulus not unlike a cat's desire to scratch furniture or a dog's need to wag their tail. Slowly, this need to be handled and squeezed begins to become their primary concern, rendering most other thoughts an easily-forgotten haze at its worst. The harsher edges of one's personality fall away, it becomes harder to grow angry or agitated, and laughter comes easily. A developing Wereplush becomes someone who is delightful and huggable, and this is only made more pronounced by the second change that occurs over time. This characterizes itself as what I can only describe as "pillowfication".

Simply put, the longer one remains a Wereplush, the plusher they become. Limbs become thicker, bellies swell rounder, cheeks fill and fill to crowd out one's snout. After a week or so, a formerly skinny Wereplush may seem to have grown chubby, but after a month, they can hardly hold their increasingly-orbicular body upright. Stuffing eventually crowds one's body in such density that they become a sort of enormous, living mattress, and this process, as far as I can ascertain, does not cease. Even if I wanted to, having been this way for so long now, my digits are too thick to hold a pen, and I could hardly lift either of my arms to do so if I wished, nor see past my own... prodigious... abdomen to boot.

Less... nuanced friends have told me I quite resemble a pink hippopotamus now... if said hippo was the size of a house.

To say I'm soft to the touch, squeezable, well, that would be the understatement of a lifetime, but it is exactly this nigh-comical plushness that presents a problem, for though one is tempted to cuddle a developed Wereplush for all they're worth, it is exactly this process by which the curse is spread- for as I mentioned previously, every Wereplush has a squeaker within their cursed form- and if a non-Wereplush manages to squeak it, usually through such unrestrained contact, the curse is transferred to them.

It almost seems ridiculous, doesn't it? Accidentally get a Wereplush to squeak, and you turn into one. And make no mistake- even at my size, one can easily still strike my own; with how deeply the curse has taken root within me, they even get a rather... dramatic headstart on their pillowfication. The last poor soul who couldn't help themself nearly instantaneously became so round they had to be rolled away, though they did seem quite pleased with themselves...

But I digress. These aspects combined have made the curse quite... astonishingly virulent, and yet they've done so simply by exploiting a desire nearly every living being has- the need to squeeze something soft.

Section Two: Origins, Treatments, Cures(?)

As I've mentioned previously, the origins of the Wereplush curse are a mystery, though I am in a unique position to speak on the original transmission vector. Deep in the Spirit Archives' storerooms, where I've tried to organize yet-uncategorized artifacts before they are studied and displayed, I have boxes upon boxes of smaller objects- pins, buttons, tags, odds and ends. In a moment of clumsiness, I was pricked by a rather nondescript sewing needle, and thinking nothing of it, I tossed it out. That the spot I was poked did not heal, instead forming a patch of strange, felt-feeling fur should have been my first indication that something was amiss, but it was only later that evening, as I readied for bed, that the curse overtook me. By then, the needle was long gone, and all that remains of its origin is the tag now affixed to one of my flanks- one that depicts the very same needle, pulling a length of pink thread, as if taunting my mistake.

Having no shortage of magical know-how at my disposal, I've tried every method I could think of to cure the curse. Brute-force dispelling has no effect, and as a Wereplush cannot eat or drink, potions and alchemy are hardly viable. I've even tried transformation magic in desperation, but even the wildest polymorphing only makes oneself a Wereplush in the shape of a given animal, it does not restore the old form. I must admit, then, that without the original implement of my transformation to study, I am without any other avenues to seek a cure, and finding it- well, that's like finding a literal needle in a proverbial haystack.

With no apparent cure, then, I must turn to treatments, ways to minimize the more... dangerous effects of the curse. Chief among these, for the safety of others, is that under no circumstances must one allow themselves to be cuddled or squeezed by a party not affected by the curse. Though a Plush is a lovely, huggable thing, soft and squishy beyond compare, though it brings us no greater joy than to be needed, loved, cuddled... transmission of the curse under such circumstances isn't simply probable, it's all but assured. To nullify this, I've found that cuddling with other plushes can satisfy the need somewhat, if not entirely. If a non-plush coming in for a hug is unavoidable, try at least to direct them to your tail, if you have one, or less important limbs- squeakers are known to migrate, but this at least helps to reduce risk until the mortal can be made to... restrain themselves.

As for pillowfication... I'm afraid there are even fewer ways to mitigate the onset. There is no visible cause of it, one does not gain weight in the traditional sense, and though one may be tempted to try to pull apart a seam and empty themselves of fluff, as far as I can ascertain, our fabric "skin" is completely unbreakable. Pillowfication is an inevitability once you bear the curse, so the best one can really do is find loose-fitting, comfortable clothing, and get used to their newfound bulk as it grows. Though it isn't much of a silver lining, I can wholly attest that the process is quite comfortable, and if nothing else, the lack of a biological body means one will never become wholly immobile.

I would like to consider this paper a living document, and rest assured- if in my research I can find a cure, I will do my best to disseminate the information promptly, but for now, the best any of us can do is try to mitigate the effects on ourselves and others.

Section Three: Miscellaneous Points

As I've been asked a number of questions that I cannot place within the broader text, and there are peculiarities to the condition I've only recently discovered, I'll try to provide a few below in bullet-point.

As mentioned above, Wereplushes appear to be functionally indestructible. We're fireproof, waterproof, can't be cut, and flattening is really just inconvenient. More aggressive victims have been kept at bay with large weights laid atop them, which work well enough, until they're too plump for the weights to find purchase, anyways.

The process of pillowfication feels not unlike having eaten a large meal, albeit the sense of "fullness" permeates one's entire body. Quite honestly, by this point I feel quite like I've been feasting for ages...

Though lighter than one's biological body at first, as a Wereplush's condition grows more advanced, their internal fluff grows denser. A new plush may be quite soft and malleable, but a deeply pillowfied plush feels like memory foam, and is just as heavy to boot!

A Wereplush's voice can change over time, some becoming squeakier and higher, some deeper and more syrupy, some not changing at all. It is unclear if this holds any significance.

Even if they were once human, a humanoid synthetic, what have you, all Wereplushes seem to take the form of anthropomorphic animals, with more animalistic folk more closely resembling their original form when transformed.

A Wereplush's tag seems to embody some aspect of themselves or the circumstances of their transformation, and is usually a simple pictogram depicting some aspect of their personality or history.

The rate at which a Wereplush pillowfies seems to vary from victim to victim, and the extent of the process appears to be limitless, though it slows once they've grown ploddingly large.

The sensations one feels if they've hit a Wereplush's squeaker, and warning signs that they've been afflicted by the curse, are an immediate sense of lightheadedness, butterflies in the stomach, and difficulty standing upright. These feelings intensify up to the point of transformation, at which point their body changes into their new, plushie self.

It is unclear how many Wereplushes now exist, but given the multidimensional nature of the Spirit Archive, and the decent number of initial and subsequent victims, there could be hundreds, even thousands...

#feylore #oc lore #c:lena #fey's writing #plushie #tf #wereplush

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