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“Would you get your finger out your ass and listen to me?!” An enraged imp in a tacky black and white polka-dotted dress slammed her hands down at the table, staring daggers at the uncaring imp across from her. “What kind of a parent are you?”
“The kind of parent that doesn’t swear in front of a child.” Blitzo Buckzo gestured to his daughter seated next to him, forced back into the dreadful conversation he had been tuning out of until this point.
For the last forty-five minutes, the boss of I.M.P. had been stuck in a conference at his daughter’s school, hardly listening to the insane drivelling of a wrathful mother. Next to this insufferable character, the school’s principal sat faux-poised, his bright eyes drifting off towards a corner in his office, the timid hellhound in a suit unable to give a fraction of a shit about the meeting he was forced to attend.
“I- wh- gUHH…!” The other imp stuttered in disbelief. “You’re still trying to shake responsibility from this mess, aren’t you?”
“Nope.” Blitzo simply answered. “And you know why? Because my Twyla would never harm your kid… at least, without reason.”
“She turned him to stone!” She shouted back at him.
“And he wouldn’t leave me alone!” Twyla butted into the argument, her eyes glowing red with rage. “All day he kept following me around, calling me names and laughing behind my back. No one believed me even when he was right there! So I took matters into my own hands.”
The imp-goetian hybrid had already been through a lot at school, and this ordeal had become the final straw. Although she was always told by her parents to never use her powers when in class, this unruly woman’s son had forced her hand. Scrunching the fabric of her dark-blue dress in duress, she stared fiercely into the bitchy imp’s eyes, her bony face and beak contorted into firm anger. Not one ounce of regret lurked within her mind.
“Are we done here?” Blitzo sighed at the mother. “You’ve been going on about this the whole time since we started.”
Her face veered from confusion to sheer fury. “ISN’T THAT THE POINT OF THIS CRAPPY MEETING?!”
“I’m afraid so.” The principal snapped his own attention back into the conversation, looking over at the tacky imp. “I- I’m also afraid that we’ve run the clock on this meeting, and I have another group of parents like yourselves waiting outside. Why don’t we reschedule this and take it from there? In the meantime, I will continue to figure out the appropriate measure of discipline for Twyla.”
Those last words caused the imp-goetian to whimper with worry, her father gently rubbing her shoulder to ease her worries. “Don’t worry, Twyla. You’ll be okay.”
As for the mother, she stood up, swiped the chair against the wall, and stormed out of the office, nearly breaking the door off its hinges when she opened it with a nasty thrust from the knob.
“This isn’t over, you hear me?!” She looked back at Blitzo and shouted at him as she left, wheeling her stone-sculpture for a son out on a hand dolly. “Count your days!”
Promptly after, the head of I.M.P. and his child left her school hand in hand, its sunny exterior cleared of students and parents. As Blitzo led the way through the near-empty parking lot, he could feel Twyla’s hand squeeze his own, an iron grip that was seldom felt from her. A quick glance down at her confirmed she retained the anger unleashed back at the meeting, lingering on her face.
“I wish I could turn that mean old woman into a harmless plushie.” The imp-goetian grumbled to herself.
Blitzo looked back up and rolled his eyes, thinking to himself, “Kids… always with their weird-ass imaginations…”
Just when they thought the worst was behind them for this downer of a day, the father and daughter were plagued with mishap after mishap, the likes of which were unforeseen. At first, the van broke down. The engine had sputtered out during the drive home, forcing them to pull over on the side of the road, stranding them in the middle of the city. With no way of getting a tow truck, they had no other choice but to traverse on-foot. They made their way through crowded sidewalks, holding hands so they would never be separated. When Blitzo spotted a coffee shop, he figured a quick stop could not hurt. Minutes later, he tried to leave with an iced coffee in his hand, having not yet had a sip from it when an unruly sinner bumped into him on the way out, spilling the drink and coating the imp’s jacket. He could only grumble bitterly with his daughter in the room, dropping the empty cup before exiting the shop. Not much further down the sidewalk, the loud noise of honking cars and revving engines, shouting demons and the bright lights of businesses and billboards alike overstimulated Twyla, the poor demon crying out a storm that forced Blitzo to console her for a while. She continued to wail as they neared the apartment, when Blitzo’s phone rang with a phone call. Hearing Moxxie on the other end, once again complaining about the company’s worsening finances, sent the head of I.M.P. into an even worse spiral, nearly snapping his phone in two with his own grip, feeling beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had reached his breaking point.
When the pair arrived back at the apartment, it at least made for a comforting sight. The hallway leading into the conjoined kitchen and living room largely remained the same as it had before, now with a newer couch to replace that old, torn-up sack. New wallpaper occupied where the peeling one used to be. Beyond that space laid the recent renovations that Blitzo and his partner enacted, thanks to those lousy neighbours vacating their apartments, allowing the couple to take up their space. Three new bedrooms were added onto the apartment’s sides: One for Twyla, one for her older stepsister, and another for both her dads. Each one was spacious, far more compared to the still decently sized living room. These additions helped make their home more personal and freeing, the latter of which both the imp and his daughter yearned for more than ever.
Over in the kitchen, his long, slender back facing them upon entering, Stolas turned around to see his partner and child. The goetian had just finished washing a pile of dishes all neatly arranged in a rack by the sink. He quickly washed and dried his hands, walking over to the end of the hallway opposite from them. His smile beamed brightly, as did his red sweater.
“Welcome home!” Stolas kindly greeted them, crouching down and opening his arms, his words focusing on Twyla. “Come and give papa a hug.”
He had failed to notice right away that things were not all right with the pair. While Blitzo looked utterly worn-out, Twyla no longer cried, but tears stained her cheeks. She let go of her father’s hand and ran down the corridor, turning away from her other father to go straight to her room. Seconds later did the imp and goetian hear the door slam behind her, the former of which let out a deep, reverberating sigh. Blitzo walked over to the couch, hopping up its side and face-planting onto its seat-cushions. Stolas promptly approached him, standing by the side of the sofa where his partner’s face pressed deeply into its softness, arms and legs going limp. With careful touch, the owl-demon reached out his hand and caressed the back of the imp’s head - a low, subtle purr produced as a result.
“Rough day?” Stolas tenderly asked, crouching by the couch to be more level with his partner.
“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.” Blitzo groaned, his voice muffled yet coming through clear enough. “It was like all of Hell was trying to get us. I haven’t felt this awful since the time I forgot to pick up Twyla after work.”
“Oh, Blitzy…” The goetian massaged Blitzo’s head. “You know that wasn’t your doing. Our hands were full with that disruptive client. Plus, she forgave you in the end.”
“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it still happened.” Blitzo buried his face deeper into the couch. “And now she’s been through another stressful shitstorm.”
Stolas assured the imp. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. It seems to me like she’s simmering down in her room right now. I imagine she will have plenty of time to herself with Loona out at her piercing appointment.”
The head of I.M.P. subtly nodded his head, going silent for a good moment. “How was your day?”
“It was mostly on the ordinary side,” the owl answered, “which was nice for a change.”
“Mostly?” Blitzo verbally pondered.
“While I was cleaning,” Stolas explained, “I came across a rather odd book. It’s filled with all sorts of transformative spells.”
“Sounds real fucking powerful.” Blitzo perked up, sitting up from the couch in a rush, facing his partner. “Where did you find it?”
Stolas reached under the sofa and retrieved the sizeable book, holding it up for the imp to see. Its cover looked to be bound in tanned, aged leather, its slightly yellowed pages whose edges poked out suggesting it had seen a lot over a span of time unfathomable to either hellborn. On the front, smack-dab in the middle, the image of a shooting star had been carved into the leather.
“I, um, put it back where I found it until I could show you. The thing is, I’m not sure how it got there or where it even came from. But I have to admit, I grew curious after looking through its pages.”
It took the imp a few seconds to catch on to what the goetian alluded to. “You didn’t…”
“Oh, but I did!” Stolas giddily grinned. “I took it upon myself to test out a spell, using it on one of the houseplants. I watched it turn into a big, glimmering jewel made from the plant itself. By my count though, the spell did not last for long… I believe it was only a few moments until the plant went back to normal.”
“Damn!” Blitzo exclaimed, starting to regain his usual personality. “That’s some freaky shit. So does this thing work on people?”
“Correct.” His partner nodded. “If the test is any indication, even the fiercest things can be made completely harmless.”
Right then, Blitzo thought back to earlier in the day, when Twyla wished with all the child-like rage in her for that horrid mother to become nothing more than a plushie. It caused the imp to smirk. A peculiar thought was quick to form in his head, one that he expressed after a playful look into his partner’s eyes.
“I have an idea~.” The imp mischievously uttered. “Why don’t we turn ourselves into a couple of plushies?”
“Plushies?” Stolas raised a brow. “I never expected that to be on your mind.”
“Well, you can thank Twyla for that.” Blitzo scoffed. “In a way, she put that strange idea in my head. Why not? I’ve got nothing better to suggest.”
Stolas opened the book and began flipping through its pages, making his way to the front of the couch before gesturing the imp to move down. “I do believe I spotted a spell for that exact purpose. I just need to find it again, and… oh! There it is! Scootch over, Blitzy. I’ve been at my feet all day too.”
“Alright, alright.” The imp nagged in a sarcastic manner. “You don’t gotta tell me twice.”
He did what the owl asked, and promptly, the two lovers sat next to one another. Blitzo practically snuggled up next to the avian’s thigh, craning his neck over at the pages in question. On their crusty surface, cursive writing inked them long ago, accompanied by a large illustration of what looked to be a teddy-bear with grinning sharp teeth and vicious claws; surely the default result of the transformation. Stolas’ eyes scanned hectically across the pages, absorbing as quickly as he could the procedure to casting this spell.
“Yes… I see…” He curiously pondered. “Clear your mind… focus… it’ll tap into your heart and soul for truest effect. Anyone nearby will be affected too…”
Before he could hastily finish, however, the imp slammed the book shut, startling the owl whose neck sharply turned to look at him.
“I think that’s enough studying.” The shorter of the pair declared. “I’m getting more and more impatient here, sitting on my ass.”
“Y- you would be right.” Stolas half-lied, having skimmed a sufficient amount but feeling unsure as to if he managed to learn everything there was to learn about the spell. “Grant me a moment to prepare myself. It will not be for long.”
He ensured the book sat flat on his thin lap, going over the steps in his head as he began to raise his hand forward. Blitzo watched his partner get to work, stars in his eyes that could fill an entire night-sky. The owl cleared his mind. Not a thought other than what the book instructed filled the space within. The tired flesh of him and his partner. The need to rend it into felt and fluff. As he readied himself, shutting his eyes, Stolas thought of the easing prospect of the spell’s effect for a fraction of a second, swiping it clean aside so he could finish fortifying his focus. After a moment of concentration, Stolas outstretched his claws and flexed the joints within. He strained the muscles, the entire limb quivering intensely. Blitzo’s eyes veered from the hand to the owl’s face, watching it subtly scrunch with the accumulated effort that the goetian put his all towards. It brought great joy to the imp when Stolas’ hand lit up in a fiery blue, creating a shockwave that spread around them. The drying dishes shifted in the rack. Loose papers on the table flew to the carpet. These pulsating gusts continued while the owl’s face further scrunched in expending focus. This was more difficult to pull off than his private demonstration. Nevertheless, he was caught off-guard in the most tender way, hearing words of encouragement from his beloved imp.
“You’ve got this, Stolas. I believe in you.”
Stolas’ face instantly eased, morphing into triumph. He felt himself overcome the struggles faced with the spell, exuded with the rising frequency of the wind-gusts that threatened to turn the apartment into a messy scene as though ravaged by a tornado. At the height of this spellcasting, the avian felt his body become tingly all over. Unbeknownst to him, Blitzo could see a thin blue outline around his partner - coloured like the flame - before one appeared on the edges of his own body.
“Whoooa…” The imp whispered in awe, raising his arms and staring at the outline before it disappeared on him and his lover.
With the outline’s vanishing, the spell came to an end. The book slammed shut on its own. Stolas opened his eyes, expecting to see himself as a living plushie. Instead, alongside the sight of the messy apartment he worked so hard to tidy, he and Blitzo remained the same. Seconds elapsed. The imp’s excitement remained for nearly half a minute more. When it dawned upon him that nothing was going to change, the sensation deflated out of him like an overfilled balloon. In its place, outrage spewed.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What a load of horseshit that was!” Blitzo scoffed and crossed his arms, his face all huffy and puffy. “Are you sure the plant really turned into a jewel?”
“Of course it did!” Stolas nervously yet assertively answered, feeling a wave of confusion wash over him. “I have no reason to lie to you.”
“I know you don’t,” the imp sighed, “but that doesn’t make this feel any better. That spell must be busted up or something. Maybe we can try it again later. I should go check on Twyla.”
Blitzo began to stand from the couch, thinking of what he was going to say to console his daughter, when-
THUMP!
Out of nowhere, he lost all feeling in his legs, falling face-first onto the flat stretch of carpet between the couch and the television. Stolas gasped, hand over his mouth as his eyes widened from the shock. The head of I.M.P. groaned, arms splayed in front of him after trying and failing to cushion the fall. He pushed them down on the floor as though preparing to do a push-up, turning his head back when he could have sworn his heart tensed within his chest. There remained no sensation in his legs, as though all the blood in them had been sucked dry. At the ends of these inactive limbs, he noticed his hooves were no longer there. Instead, a pair of nubs for feet took their place, black and visibly comprised of felt. With trepidation, Blitzo reached back towards one of his pant-legs, grabbing at it and frantically tugging it partway up his thigh.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” He shouted panicked, not keeping in mind that his daughter was home.
Forget the feeling of losing all the blood in them. There was nothing inside his leg. It sat flat against the carpet, a two-dimensional caricature, a quick tug at the other pant-leg confirming both limbs were affected. This freaky discovery made the imp’s heart beat thunderously, until all of a sudden, it no longer beat, causing his claws to grapple at a chest now empty.
GUUURRRRRRRRRGLLLL- GLRRRRRRRRNNNNNN…
A queasy grumble in his stomach made Blitzo worriedly groan. His claws travelled down to it and felt rampantly across the skin beneath his clothes. There, his eyes widened, feeling a soft, fluffy material begin to fill the entirety of his middle, spreading across his physique. It caused his stomach to slightly distend, taking on a round curvature that buried its formerly lean appearance. The chubbier mound spread upon the carpet, squishing into it as lumps formed beneath the imp’s exposed skin. Blitzo shuddered when he felt the material flow down his legs and into his nubs for feet, blowing them back up from flatness like air entering a bouncy house. Simultaneously, his tail, having been whipping in the air with unbridled panic, stiffened straight up, its pointed end morphing from flesh into white hair. It rapidly grew long and silky, flowing down a few feet that resembled an oversized feminine wig. Before long, he and Stolas, who had been watching these frightful events, witnessed the stem of the tail recede into his spine with the same haste that a pull-string did into the back of a talking doll.
“Blitzy!” Stolas finally found the strength in him to shout, his eyes little white dots that could hardly believe what they were seeing. He set the spellbook down on the couch and sharply rose, bending over Blitzo and grabbing him from the underarms. “Oh, dear. Let me help you up.”
The worried goetian set his partner back onto the sofa and joined him - the book between them - noting the limpness of his legs even after they had filled back out. He proceeded to turn and shift Blitzo around, examining him as a doctor would. The imp was left to whimper with the confounding state of his body. A series of peculiar observations became apparent: His tail began to swish from side-to-side, its hairy new form moving as though it had always been this way. Both legs, nubby feet touching the carpet, slowly turned stubby, the ends of his pants drooping. And the filling in his middle and legs, making him grow plump, felt anything but organic, the resulting realization making the owl gasp.
“I think this is cotton inside of you.” He told a surprised Blitzo, poking at his swollen tummy. “You really are turning into a plushie!”
“I… I am?” The imp asked almost in disbelief, overcome by a tinge of excitement.
Both could visibly see the imp grow softer as he shrank in size. The length of his legs steadily reduced, in turn making them look fatter with the material bulging within. From the loosening pants blanketing them, Stolas continually rolled them up. His middle, once straining against his shirt, let it go once it too got smaller. From where he sat, Blitzo could see his surroundings enlarge, his tinier head looking at Stolas who appeared bigger to him than ever before. In seconds, the imp’s torso rounded into the shape of a melon, stout little arms and legs sticking out from its corners; the former fleshy, the latter stuffed.
“I won’t lie,” Blitzo spoke with the return of his typical persona, “it’s a little freaky, but I haven’t felt this fucking good in ages. Way better than what you’d get at some rich-ass resort. I wish I didn’t have to get smaller though.”
“That’s to be expected.” Stolas told him. “Most plushies are rather… compact.”
Blitzo abruptly perked up and locked eyes with the other hellborn. “Hey, wait a minute. Why haven’t you started changing yet?”
“You’re right…” The owl uttered after a few seconds of absorbing this realization. “I wonder if there must have been some delay between you and I. But that wouldn’t make any sense. I-”
FLUMP!
With extraordinary timing, Stolas yelped when both his arms went limp against the back of the couch. The shock deterred him from getting up. He did not need to look beneath his sweater’s sleeves to see that they had turned flat in the blink of an eye, thanks to the claws sticking out past their ends.
They and his hands proceeded to become overridden with cotton, travelling down his arms that inflated them back up. The owl winced from feeling the fluffy matter replace his insides with equal pace. Despite seeing a newfound tummy peek out from below, his gaze focused upon his arms, eyes darting between one limb and the other. At first, it seemed as though they were being stuffed to their absolute limits, the sleeves bulging like bubbling foam. But as it soon turned out when they tore apart and hung loosely from his sweater’s shoulders, the limbs themselves were changing wildly from the outside.
SCCHRIIIIIIIPPP!!
What were once two thin, long appendages surged into a pair of huge, sprawling wings, covered across every inch with excess fluff coloured exactly like Stolas’ feathers. They easily looked to be several times wider than before, bulging out with plentiful cotton that affected every part of him.
BUOOOORRRRBBLLL- WOOOORBLLLE…
Another tumultuous gurgle threatened to make the goetian demon throw up. He managed to compose himself in the moment, staring at the source of this terrible noise. He could feel his stomach stretch and round, extending into that of his torso. In due time, it and his limbs shifted in shape to resemble Blitzo’s stout and portly own. It was an enchanting sensation for Stolas to see the world around him get bigger, his entire form shrinking down towards something more handheld. His talons lifted off the floor, puffy legs being absorbed into the bottom of his torso. Those giant wings became smaller to better match the scale that the owl-demon would soon be, steadily forced to jut out awkwardly from his curved sides. Stolas whimpered with the feeling of all the cotton filling his head. It too rounded out in the process, his long neck disappearing into his bouncy torso, tailfeathers getting smaller from behind. His sweater and pants gradually hung loose from his body, still remaining larger and taller than his partner’s despite both undergoing the relatively same procedure.
“Looks like it’s your turn now.” Blitzo cheekily told him, eyeing the metamorphosis while his own persisted.
“My, you really weren’t kidding.” Stolas had to admit. “Though for how strange and almost discomforting this all feels, it is… therapeutic to be made into something so small and cozy.”
“You’re damn right it is!” Blitzo exclaimed, a chuckle emerging as his arms shrank to the size of rulers.
The owl-demon took a few seconds to closely eye his partner, noting his new attributes. “Judging by your tail and what appear to be hooves, you look to be turning into an equine.”
“Really?” The imp desperately tried to look back at his tail, unable to with his neck vanishing between his head and the top of his torso. “At least… it sure fucking feels like it. This is the coolest shit ever, Stols! Well, it would be if I weren’t getting so damn little.”
“It is indeed most peculiar. It must be what your heart and soul desired.” Stolas noted, now matching Blitzo’s former size before surpassing it with shrinking. “Although I am left to ponder why I haven’t changed species like you.”
“If you ask me,” Blitzo admitted with a warmth in his voice, “I wouldn’t want you any other way… or by that much, anyway.”
“Aww… how sweet of you to say, Blitzy~.” Stolas blushed… or he would have if not for lacking the ability to do so as a half-plushie becoming less and less of a living being.
The couch began to look roomier with the couple’s continual shrinkage, their heads growing larger to match their rotund torsos. By now, Blitzo was less than half the size he used to be, getting further away from the scale he once was that although taller than the average imp, still paled in comparison to nearly every other demon in Hell. This observation pounded at his thoughts, not wanting to be reduced to what felt like the size of an insect. He glanced up at Stolas, contentedly riding out the ongoing transformation. His eyes drifted down to the spellbook between them, its close grasp growing distant from his little arms. Even with this increasingly apparent obstacle, Blitzo figured it would not hurt to take a peek inside for himself. The book seemed close enough to his reach, after all. And so with clumsy maneuvering, using the momentum of his arms to hoist his otherwise still body to the side, Blitzo enacted his abrupt plan.
“What are you doing now?” Stolas soon caught a glimpse of the imp.
“Wh- what does it fucking look like?” He asked back, both upper-limbs swinging repeatedly like those belonging to a tyrannosaurus rex. “I’m trying to get my hands on your weird book.”
Stolas sighed. “It does not belong to me-! Oh, nevermind.”
FLOP!
Seconds later, Blitzo’s entire body fell sideways onto the couch, able to grab the book and hoist it the other way. Its considerable weight compared to his own now made it easier for him to sit back upright. The head of I.M.P. stuck his tongue out in concentration as he tried to open the book upon his lap, managing to flip to the spell that actively rendered them into plushies. He quickly scanned the writing on the page, its cursive inking hard for him to read. Regardless, he obtained a decent grasp on the spell itself, before clumsily flipping the page to see what else there was to this magic. Here, he saw a series of additional spells that could be cast on top of this main spell; effects to amplify or alter the end result. To Blitzo, he might as well have hit the jackpot, especially when his eyes caught sight of one particular enhancement.
“‘Making your plushie bigger’.” He read aloud, much to Stolas’ curiosity.
These enhancements were what eluded the goetian back when he read the spellbook, unable to move to clearly see them, but able to speak to his lover.
“Are you certain you know what you’re doing?” He asked the imp, his heart surely beating nervously if it was still there.
“Of course I do.” Blitzo nonchalantly assured him. “Don’t get your feathers in a twist. Just gotta find the page real quick…”
Soon enough, the imp-horse-plushie hybrid used what remaining strength he could in his arm to raise it, clearing his mind and focusing to cast the enhancement he highly sought. Unlike earlier when Stolas cast a spell, Blitzo found it much easier, feeling like he did not need to exude as much mental willpower to conjure the blue flame alongside those gusts of wind. This time, however, given the imp’s little hands now the same size as Twyla’s, the wind surged out minimally, only affecting both demons who began to tilt due to their lighter masses. Despite this annoying obstacle, Blitzo proved successful when another blue outline came and went upon his and Stolas’ bodies, the fire and wind ceasing with the casting of the spell. Once again, it first appeared as though nothing actually happened, even while a triumphant grin stretched on the imp’s face. There was a brief tenseness in the air picked up by the goetian, a nervous glint in his eyes. As it turned out, it did not take long for him to confirm why he felt this uneasy inkling.
GUUOORGGLLLLLLL- BWOOOOOORBLLLLE…
FWWSSSCCCHHHHHHHHRRRRRN…
A dual cacophony of guttural groans shook through the apartment, forcing out nauseating moans from both hellborns. They felt a tremendous rise of pressure within their middles, those soft, rotund mounds beginning to expand anew and exponentially! It felt as though a hose had been inserted into their rear-ends, filling them with more cotton than their bodies could possibly handle. The effects were near-immediate. Blitzo and Stolas whimpered as they swelled like balloons, their tummies turning into large-scale guts, sitting atop their little laps and rising into their peripheries. More cotton infiltrated their limbs, puffing out into awkward kegs that were difficult to move. As this transpired, the demons watched as the skin of their bodies were paved over by thick yarn with visible stitches, their bodily hues of red and blue alike retained through this inorganic material.
“Oh- just fucking great!” Blitzo thrashed what little he could. “Now that first spell’s ramping up too!”
“But I thought you wanted that transformation?” Stolas asked him back.
“I do.” He affirmed. “And I wanted to become a huge-ass plush! Just not with all this fucking stuffing stretching me to my damn limits.”
In mere seconds, they both grew back to their starting sizes as demons, their frames corpulent and only getting worse. While Blitzo took on the look of a greatly chubby toy, Stolas became obese by comparison. All that light, frothy stuffing pushed his stomach out immensely, the round orb twice as big as the television subtly drooping over his thickening thighs that bestowed it lovely cushioning. It continued to jut outward, threatening to go past the point of no return, for a few seams along his gut started to come undone on their own. While Stolas grew helplessly, Blitzo got his own wish. With the same suddenness as his legs from the beginning, both arms went limp, shifting into small nubs akin to hooves. At the same time, his head underwent a drastic change in shape. A discomforting groan spilled from the imp’s lips as through his own eyes, he stared at his face pushing out by numerous inches, widening and taking on a rectangular shape. By the time he realized it had morphed into a muzzle, he nearly whinnied in excitement as a horse very much would.
Blitzo did not have long to focus on his new face, for atop his head, long strands of white hair sprouted. They hastily grew along the back of his head, falling down to and brushing against the middle of his back, forming a silky mane that perfectly complimented his new animalistic features. If he could, Blitzo would have shaken his head like mad, feeling all that hair sway equally so. His eyes were washed over in a sheen of embroidery come alive, sockets no longer possessing a fleshy source of sight. The brisk change proved surprisingly harmless. Despite no longer possessing pupils or moving eyes, his vision remained unchanged. A strong pressure formed around the bases of the imp’s horns, looking up to try and see what commenced with those protrusions. Although he was unable to see them clearly, Blitzo nevertheless felt them push towards each other across his upper forehead, where upon contact, they merged into a single large horn; an uncurled, pointed tip and swirly texture making it abundantly clear that it was a unicorn’s horn. Most apparent, his torso lengthened and widened considerably, forcing him to fall forwards onto the couch cushion’s edge, what were once his arms touching down by their ends, his plush body properly becoming like a horse.
Having been watching his partner become more equine, as though a way to take his mind off the troubling swelling in his stomach, Stolas too followed suit with his plushification. All four eyes turned into embroidery in a single wipe, their size and bright red glow left intact. His bodily feathers thickened into the likes of a bush, causing him to look even fatter when combined with that heaving gut. The ones on his wings, taking on the illusion of looking small between his chunky middle, too accumulated furthermore, deeply absorbing into the sides of his torso, bestowing them the same stoutness as his legs that completely vanished into himself, leaving only his little talons peeking out and resting atop the sofa. While Blitzo’s clothes appeared as though he wore them several sizes too small, Stolas’ own went on to tear apart at their own seams. Immense rips stretched across the expansive center of his stomach, exposing its fluffy, cotton-filled self that continued pushing through the gap. The same commenced all over himself, no matter where these tears were made. Before long, the goetian’s sweater and pants fell off him into tatters that landed on the couch and carpet, leaving him in the nude with a belly double the size of a beanbag chair.
CRRRRRRRRK…
“Oh, sweet Satan…” Stolas worriedly groaned.
His panicking eyes gazed towards the bottom of the couch, its distinct noise of creaking worrisome. How had he truly gotten so heavy that he could rival some of Hell’s largest gluttons? Even if it was not adipose inside him, the intense sensation might as well have been like it. The owl’s head soon enlarged to join the scale of his torso, the two merging to give him the proper proportions of an owl in the wild. Throughout this all, the seams on Stolas’ middle continued to slowly stretch taut, tensions escalating when with severe abruptness, they came apart. Stolas whimpered as he saw stuffing pour out through the gaps in his own body, only worsening with the formation of more inside him. Blitzo could see the stuffing cascade out of his partner, his middle filling more than half the couch, burying the spellbook in the process.
“Fuck me sideways.” The imp-horse plushie spoke in amazement. “Your guts are spilling out!”
Those words, uttered harmlessly, made the owl-demon think otherwise.
When the last of themselves had been reconfigured into soft, cuddly plushies, the ceaseless bout of stuffing came to a close. Both of their heads nearly brushed against the ceiling, more than big enough to be worthy of being won at a carnival game. The couple took a moment to process their end results, coming down from the push and pull of panic and excitement that escorted them throughout the spell. They stared at one another with their embroidered eyes. Blitzo, the imp equine who was fuzzy all over, sat quadrupedal, his belly a huge sack of stuffing that propelled him upward by well over a few feet. He had indeed grown back out with his hasty spellcasting - far beyond the imp he was - slightly rocking atop his taut, squishy stomach. Stolas, on the other hand, might as well have been the aftermath of a day-long binge in the Gluttony Ring. His feathery orb for a belly buried what remained of his lower-body, excess cotton sitting slanted upon its dense, curvy surface. The goetian could still hear the threat of more seams to come undone, though did his best to compose himself.
“A- are you alright, Blitzy?” He asked his partner, tinges of panic fading away.
“I think so.” Blitzo answered after a few seconds, flailing all four of his legs that bumped against his stomach. “So much for staying in shape, I guess.”
The remark got a brief chuckle out of Stolas, who released a sigh afterward. “I suppose you are right about that. I must be remarkably heavy.”
“Heh, you sure look like it.” The imp smirked back.
He kept at it with flailing his limbs, tail swishing faster. Like a buoy at sea, his immobile frame tilted, building up so much momentum in a matter of seconds that he suddenly plopped onto the side of Stolas’ belly. The imp’s head and mane rested against the chunky mound, feeling an innate warmth comparable to that of adipose. He himself let out a sigh heavy like the gut, recognizing that there was more relaxation to come from this spell than he ever could have foreseen. Looking down at him, Stolas would have undoubtedly caressed his mane if not for his useless wings. All he could do was flash a caring smile, a sense of calm washing over him. With their panic flowing out behind them came the unmistakable sense of fatigue. Both demons found themselves beginning to yawn, eyes growing heavy on their faces of fabric.
“How do you feel now, my horsie~?” The owl-demon teasingly asked the imp, hearing from him a small whinny indicating his drowsiness.
“I’m feeling real fucking tired right about now.” He told him, doing as best he could to stretch out his legs, a dull noise created when they bumped back onto his belly. “I didn’t expect this to take so much energy outta me.”
“So did I.” Stolas added. “All this cotton must be weighing down on me. It feels so fluffy, why… I might as well be in bed right now. I think we are both in need of some shuteye. Perhaps a nap shall do the trick.”
“I sure as hell hope so.” Blitzo replied. “Though maybe it’ll be better to just call it an early night.”
“I quite agree.” Stolas slowly spoke with the rise of his drowsiness. “An early night sounds perfect for us both.”
Time marched on as both hellborns slowly lost consciousness. Stolas remained leaning up against the sofa’s back, Blitzo slumped onto that giant cotton sack. With the way they were both positioned, in conjunction with the couch, the plus-sized plushies evoked the adorable, comforting image of being behind a display glass inside a toy store; all that was missing being a tea-set, or more appropriately, the aftermath of a ginormous feast. Little did either of them know that the moment they closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep, they would not awaken so easily. After the imp’s snoring and the goetian’s gentle snoozing encircled the living room, both noises faded out as they were rendered inanimate beings. Each slumped over more in their respective directions. Their eyes opened back up, frozen with wide, gleeful gazes. Their mouths stretched into wide smiles glowing. As of this moment, the hellborns remained still as the plushies they now were. The living room entered a state of firm quiet, a living soul no longer stirring in its confines. And yet, the couple, in their final poses when sentient, continued to evoke their love for one another.
…
Once rays of shimmering evening sun poured into the apartment, the click of a lock and turn of a door handle could be heard emerging. Following them, Twyla stepped out from her room, removing the headphones that allowed her to focus on her music and isolate herself from any and all outside noise. She looked around at the apartment - the lights left on now illuminating the otherwise dimmer space. Despite the fair passage of time since she got home, she still felt the blows from the rough day endured. It did not take much for her eyes to spot what had become of her parents, taking note of their limp positions on the sofa. Yet, the imp-goetian hybrid did not feel an ounce of fear or worry. Instead, a weary smile crept upon her bony face, walking forth and approaching where her parents sat. Twyla stood before the front of the couch, looking up at the plump, soft plushies that looked as though they fell asleep upon one another. She climbed up onto what little space remained on the cushions, grabbing the spellbook with her little hands and placing it on her lap. Her little legs hung above the carpet. With clumsy movement, she pushed Blitzo off from Stolas, so that when the horse plushie leaned back down, he did so into her, his fluffy head still touching his partner’s and making them resemble the walls of a house that shielded their child. The comfort they brought Twyla felt immense. She proceeded to cuddle up with the horse and owl, her hands squishing into as much of them as she could reach.
“It worked.” She uttered with glee, nuzzling her head on one plushie to the other. “I can’t believe it really worked! This book was the best one I could buy. I knew you would cast that spell just right!”
The hellborn continued to cuddle with her parents, eyeing the physical attributes each developed.
“Look at how fluffy your mane is, daddy.” She petted Blitzo’s hair. “Your horn is so beautiful. You must be so happy to be a horsie now.”
She turned to look closer at Stolas and his intensely cotton-filled stomach, noting the split seams and the material that poured out from them. “Don’t worry, papa. I’ll patch you back up! And if I can’t, I’ll find a spell to help me.”
For a short time, Twyla stayed with her parents on the couch. She could feel her sadness steadily leave her, as though being absorbed into the plushies, relieving her of her fright. Before the imp-goetian knew it, night had approached. The living room lights had gotten brighter from the contrast outside. Her eyes weighed heavily on her face, limbs dangling and head tilting.
It was time to go to sleep.
Staying awake a little longer as best as she could, Twyla rose from the sofa, the spellbook in her grasp. She placed it on the carpet by the television before going back to her parents. Rather than leave them out here, she elected to take them into her room; a not-so easy feat given their significant size. One by one, she grabbed them by their feet, dragging them on the carpet while trying her best to be gentle. With Blitzo, Twyla faced some difficulty with the stomach lifting his legs off the ground. She tugged and tugged on those front limbs while walking backwards across the apartment, where upon reaching her bedroom door, she went around and proceeded to push him against his hindquarters, his rotund shape squeezing through the doorframe. After some effort having to be expended, she got him through, but that left only the owl in the room. Twyla faced far more of a struggle lugging Stolas the same way. All that cotton considerably added to his mass, the imp-goetian needing to catch her breath at times. But with enough time and determination, she dragged him to her door, where even her greatest efforts to push him in proved troublesome thanks to that gut.
“Get in already!” She nearly whined, shoving the owl by the backside too. “The spell didn’t say anything about getting this big.”
During this, Twyla thought of the times she would need her parents back. After all, she was still so young, and even in their sweet, softened forms, she missed the demons that they once were. Fortunately, that spellbook had the means of turning them back to being sentient, although she agreed to herself that it would be cast when she needed them that way. Once both larger-than-life plushies were inside her room, Twyla hoisted them onto each side of her bed. The mattress managed to hold her parents, though as a result, they covered it in its entirety. The imp-goetian ran back to the living room to snatch the book, returning to the bedroom and closing the door behind her. She placed the ancient relic in her closet, before climbing onto the plushies covering the mattress. Twyla laid atop both dads as though they comprised a new bed, one even more comfy and soothing. She cuddled up to them, turning over to address each of them once more.
“Goodnight, daddy.” She tenderly told the horsie and smooched him on the cheek, followed by the owl. “Goodnight, papa.”
With that, she drifted off to sleep, leaving behind a terrible day accompanied by her plushies for parents.
…
About half an hour after falling asleep, Twyla awoke to the sound of the apartment’s front door slamming shut. Gasping, she sat up, head turning towards her bedroom door. While the noise indeed startled her, leaving her slightly shaken, she recognized the precise manner in which the door was shut, knowing who was responsible for it. Over a moment, Twyla heard a familiar pair of paws shuffle along the carpet. They paced around as though with no rhyme or reason, stopping briefly on the other side of the apartment. Before long, these footsteps made their way up to her door, where upon being opened, Loona stuck her head in. The moody hellhound did not know what to expect when she peered into her stepsister’s room. With the noticeable lack of her parents around, she had a feeling the imp-goetian would know something of their whereabouts. For as much as they could be fuck-ups sometimes, the hellhound at least knew they would never leave Twyla alone like this. So after a good, hard glance at the giant plushies between her sibling, Loona’s eyes widened from the bizarre sight, her mouth slanted. Much of the sleep in Twyla’s eyes vanished in an instant, staring at her stepsister and the new piercings on her ears with innocence poorly masking mischief.
“Uhhhh…” Loona uttered for a couple of seconds, recognizing Stolas through his plushified state and slowly after for Blitzo. “What the hell happened?”
“Oh, well, I…” Twyla first stumbled with her words, not expecting the hellhound to be home tonight. “I got a spellbook for papa and hid it under the couch for him to find, and gave daddy the idea of turning themselves into plushies so I could have plushies! But one of them used an extra spell that made them even bigger, and now papa has a hole or two in his tummy. They were so full of fluff that it took a long time for me to get them in here. Today was not a good day for daddy and I… so I thought that the two of us and papa could all cuddle and be comfy together. I just know they love being plushies, and I love having them to cuddle with!”
An awkward air came and went in the bedroom. As Twyla’s eyes sparkled like the stars outside, Loona could not have been more offput by her explanation of the day’s events.
“O… kaaay?” She raised a brow, trying her best to process it all. “You got them to turn themselves into toys.”
“I sure did!” Twyla’s smile beamed brighter.
“Riiight…” The hellhound uttered, her brain scrambling for a response. “Gotta admit, it’s kinda freaky, but you… you do you. I really don’t care, so long as you put them back at some point.”
“I will.” The imp-goetian assured her.
“Good.” Loona spoke, starting to pull her head back out of the doorway. “I’m gonna get going again.”
“Wait!” The younger sister cried out. “Where are you going?”
Loona brought her head back inside. “I’m heading to another party in Gluttony. I probably won’t be back for a while, but I grabbed you a dead rat to help yourself to if you get hungry. It’s in the fridge.”
Twyla appreciated this gesture. “Thank you. Do you want to join us?”
The younger child grabbed Blitzo and Stolas’ heads and aimed them at Loona, their static smiles slightly freaking her out.
“I’m good.” Loona answered after a few seconds, again starting to pull her head out the doorway.
“But-!” Twyla got her to peer back in. “Don’t you want to see them closer?”
Loona was ready to pass on this offer, but a flicker of differing thought made her relent. “Oh, why the hell not.”
The hellhound trudged into the bedroom from one side of the bed to the other, grabbing each plushie from Twyla and looking at them carefully. She turned Blitzo over this way and that. Her hands felt the plushie’s innate softness that bulged from the seams and fabric beneath, all that cotton in the equine’s middle doing a number to his mobility. As for Stolas, Loona thought of how he might as well be a useable safety mat. She held the owl with her arms near-fully extended to their wingspan, gently tossing him up and down like a ball and feeling the heft within, causing more cotton to push out the holes.
“Heh… what a fatass.” She smirked at Stolas’ stomach.
“Be careful with papa!” Twyla then cried out, causing Loona to set him down more gently than she did with Blitzo.
After that, the older stepsister made her way back to the door, stopping when she heard her sibling’s voice again.
“You sure you don’t want to join us later?” She again pleaded with enlarged eyes of cuteness.
“I’m sure!” Loona spoke with a bit more agitation in her voice. “I gotta go now.”
She left with haste and closed the door, leaving Twyla in the dim space with her parents. The imp-goetian felt a sore sadness inside her, processing that final moment with the hellhound. Had she been too pushy? Did she ask her too harshly, or in a way she did not mean for? Twyla resigned to try and go back to sleep, her little arms each pulling the plushies back closer, shutting her eyes where only darkness seemed to lurk.
Suddenly, the door creaked back open.
“Twyla… you okay if I climb in with you three later? When I’m back?”
In an instant, the younger sibling perked back up as she sat up once again. “Yes! I can’t wait.”
“Great.” Loona smiled warmly. “I’ll see you later. Good night, Twyla.”
“Good night, Loona.” She wished her back.
The bedroom door closed, the front one too after being opened. The imp-goetian snuggled up closer to her parents. Despite her sometimes rocky mood, Twyla could not have been happier to have a caring sister like Loona.