"Enchanted Arms: Love's Illusion"
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The soft luminescence of the moon cast vague silhouettes of the bedroom furniture against the walls. Oliver sat up in bed, just getting off the phone with his husband, Marcus, who was attending a professional magic conference miles away. The laughter, love, and warmth in Marcus's voice had filled the room, leaving a bittersweet residue that clung to every corner. With a sigh, Oliver undressed and climbed into bed, slipping into his pajama bottoms. He turned out the light and let the darkness envelop him.
Intensively, he thought about Marcus—the strong, reassuring presence of his embrace, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faintest trace of rabbit fur, a magician's occupational hazard. It wasn’t long before Oliver drifted into a sleep peppered with the comforting specters of his husband's arms.
However, deep into the night, Oliver was pulled from his slumber by a sensation—familiar, tender touches gliding over his cheeks and hair. His heart quickened as he reflexively reached out, expecting to feel Marcus nestled beside him as always. His hand met emptiness.
In an instant, the caress transformed from tender to terrifying. He bolted upright, scrambling out of bed and dashing to the nearest refuge—the bathroom. He stumbled through the dimly lit room, heart pounding, until his fingers found the light switch. The sudden brightness forced his eyes to squint and adjust.
When the world came into focus, he saw something that stole his breath away. Just below his armpits, he felt a weight. He pressed his arms to his sides and encountered soft but firm obstacles. Panic spiked as he reached for the mirror. What he saw was impossible—a second pair of arms hung limply from his torso. Familiar, hauntingly so.
His gaze turned down to his side. He took the left extra hand in his, the wedding ring glinting mockingly. These were Marcus's arms. Trembling, he lifted the right extra hand to his face—strong, gym-toned, dusted with just the right amount of hair on the knuckles. Holding them felt surreal, his breath catching in his throat.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, but he desperately wished for a sign that this madness, this borrowed anatomy, was connected to his beloved. The fingers of the extra hands wiggled upon his unspoken cue, each movement comfortingly familiar.
Releasing his grip, the hands and arms moved on their own volition, lifting before him, turning wrists, bending elbows, the fingers dancing. A tear slipped down his cheek as he closed his eyes and wished. Wished for the arms to embrace him across his chest, hold his shoulders, and fill that agonizing void.
In an instant, they obliged, enveloping him in a spectral hug that mimicked perfectly the strength and warmth of Marcus. Oliver silently thanked the hands guiding his thoughts and feelings. Turning off the light, he slowly made his way back to bed.
Pulling the covers over him, the arms tenderly massaged his neck, soothed his shoulders, glided over other spots in an unspoken understanding of what his unconscious mind yearned for. Comforted by the uncanny intimacy, Oliver drifted into a deep, dreamy slumber.
Morning rays filtered through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Oliver awoke to find the bed as he’d last seen it, with no sign of anything extraordinary. Disturbed, he checked his phone. A message from Marcus awaited him:
"I hope the 'gifts' I sent were a comfort to you. All of me will be home soon."
Smiling, Oliver clutched the phone to his heart, understanding with every fiber of his being the lengths his husband would go to keep love and magic alive in their hearts.
This story was generated by user bud with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: write a story about a man who just gets off the phone with his husband, a magician away attending a professional magic conference. he undresses and climbs into bed wearing only his pajama bottoms and turns out the light. when he closes his eyes, he thinks about the warm embrace of in husband's arms as he falls asleep. late into the night, he is awakened by familiar touches on his cheek and hair. when reflexively reaches back to return of touch, his hand finds the spot where his husband would sleep empty, and he remembers that he is supposed to be home alone. he becomes alarmed that someone, a stranger, must be in the room with him, and he scrambles out of bed and runs to the nearest door, the bathroom, stumbling in the dimness until he reaches and passes through the door, slams it shut, then presses himself against it in case the intruder tries to force his way in. he listens in the silence for any sounds, but he hears nothing but quiet. that's when he notices the sensations of something weighing from his sides, just below his armpits. he moves his arms to press against the sides of his torso, but he feels soft but firm obstacles blocking them. he reaches out and turns flicks a wall switch that turns on the bathroom lights. after his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, he looks at his reflection and sees what appear to be a second pair of arms and hands nested below his, hanging limp and idle. he steps to the mirror to look and finds them very familiar. his eyes then turn down to look st the extra left arm directly. when he takes the hand into his and looks at the fingers, he recognizes the wedding ring and realizes this is indeed his husband's arm. he picks up the other extra hand and holds them to his face for a close look - these are his husband's muscular, gym-toned hands and arms, right down to the hairs that dust the knuckles and forearms. as he holds them, the extra hands and arms hang idle in his, and when he wishes there was a sign that they are real, the fingers and thumbs wiggle to an unspoken cue. he releases them and they hold themselves up before him, turning its wrists and bending its elbows as the fingers continued to open and close for his inspection. to confirm his suspicion, he closes his eyes and wishes for the arms to reach out across his chest and hold his shoulders in an embrace, which they immediately do without hesitation. he silently thanks his husband as he turns off the light and makes his way back to bed. as he pulls the covers over him, his husbands arms start massaging his neck, shoulders and other spots in response to the thoughts going through his mind, with just the right touch as read from his unconscious desires. in the morning he wakes up and finds his husbands arms have disappeared in his sleep.he checks his cell phone and finds a text message from his husband waiting for him, saying that he hoped the "gifts" he sent were a comfort, and that all of him would be home soon.
Response: The soft luminescence of the moon cast vague silhouettes of the bedroom furniture against the walls. Oliver sat up in bed, just getting off the phone with his husband, Marcus, who was attending a professional magic conference miles away. The laughter, love, and warmth in Marcus's voice had filled the room, leaving a bittersweet residue that clung to every corner. With a sigh, Oliver undressed and climbed into bed, slipping into his pajama bottoms. He turned out the light and let the darkness envelop him. Intensively, he thought about Marcus—the strong, reassuring presence of his embrace, the scent of his cologne mingling with the faintest trace of rabbit fur, a magician's occupational hazard. It wasn’t long before Oliver drifted into a sleep peppered with the comforting specters of his husband's arms. However, deep into the night, Oliver was pulled from his slumber by a sensation—familiar, tender touches gliding over his cheeks and hair. His heart quickened as he reflexively reached out, expecting to feel Marcus nestled beside him as always. His hand met emptiness. In an instant, the caress transformed from tender to terrifying. He bolted upright, scrambling out of bed and dashing to the nearest refuge—the bathroom. He stumbled through the dimly lit room, heart pounding, until his fingers found the light switch. The sudden brightness forced his eyes to squint and adjust. When the world came into focus, he saw something that stole his breath away. Just below his armpits, he felt a weight. He pressed his arms to his sides and encountered soft but firm obstacles. Panic spiked as he reached for the mirror. What he saw was impossible—a second pair of arms hung limply from his torso. Familiar, hauntingly so. His gaze turned down to his side. He took the left extra hand in his, the wedding ring glinting mockingly. These were Marcus's arms. Trembling, he lifted the right extra hand to his face—strong, gym-toned, dusted with just the right amount of hair on the knuckles. Holding them felt surreal, his breath catching in his throat. A cold shiver ran down his spine, but he desperately wished for a sign that this madness, this borrowed anatomy, was connected to his beloved. The fingers of the extra hands wiggled upon his unspoken cue, each movement comfortingly familiar. Releasing his grip, the hands and arms moved on their own volition, lifting before him, turning wrists, bending elbows, the fingers dancing. A tear slipped down his cheek as he closed his eyes and wished. Wished for the arms to embrace him across his chest, hold his shoulders, and fill that agonizing void. In an instant, they obliged, enveloping him in a spectral hug that mimicked perfectly the strength and warmth of Marcus. Oliver silently thanked the hands guiding his thoughts and feelings. Turning off the light, he slowly made his way back to bed. Pulling the covers over him, the arms tenderly massaged his neck, soothed his shoulders, glided over other spots in an unspoken understanding of what his unconscious mind yearned for. Comforted by the uncanny intimacy, Oliver drifted into a deep, dreamy slumber. Morning rays filtered through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. Oliver awoke to find the bed as he’d last seen it, with no sign of anything extraordinary. Disturbed, he checked his phone. A message from Marcus awaited him: "I hope the 'gifts' I sent were a comfort to you. All of me will be home soon." Smiling, Oliver clutched the phone to his heart, understanding with every fiber of his being the lengths his husband would go to keep love and magic alive in their hearts.
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