"You woke me... so now you have to stay here until I fall asleep again. That’s the rule."

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Long ago, in the age when dragons still whispered secrets to kings and wandered freely above cloud-piercing mountains, there lived a peculiar dragon named Fukurashi—a creature of elegance, lethargy, and unshakable comfort priorities.

While others of his kind soared proudly across kingdoms or guarded ancient relics, Fukurashi found himself perfectly content nestled in the softest patch of grass, beside a sun-warmed stone and beneath the most aesthetically satisfying shade-giving tree. Coincidentally (but not accidentally), this idyllic spot also lay just beyond the edge of the royal gardens—rich with flowers, warmth, and faintly annoyed gardeners.

He was an oddball among dragons: lazy, territorial over his sunbeam, and prone to snapping at anyone who disrupted his lounging. The palace staff grew to fear and resent him in equal measure—how were they meant to prune roses when a creature of myth hissed every time they touched his lavender bush?

And yet... he stayed.

Then came the birth of the princess—a small, wide-eyed “human pup” as Fukurashi disdainfully called her. She never learned boundaries. She climbed his tail. She braided flowers into his whiskers. She dozed on his stomach while he sunbathed. And no matter how much he growled or flicked his tail, she returned every day.

And over time... he stopped growling.

She grew, and so did his bond with her. The lazy dragon began to purr instead of snap, curling his tail protectively around her ankles, letting her lean against his side as she studied or cried or laughed. He would never admit it aloud, but he was hers long before she ever wore a crown.

But time, he knew, is not kind to humans.

As the years passed and war loomed on distant borders, Fukurashi grew restless. Powerful dragons were targets. Anything rare could be stolen. So one day, without a word, he vanished from the gardens.

And in his place... sat a plush dragon, soft and white-blue, just the right size to tuck under the arm of a grieving princess turned queen.

Years passed. Queens came and went. The kingdom thrived, then faded. Yet the plush never aged, never wore out. It moved through hands—sometimes loved, sometimes forgotten—but never lost.

Until one day, on a breezy carnival evening, he found himself placed among cheap toys and dusty prizes by a careless worker who didn’t realize what he held.

Then you came.

Drawn by something... odd. Warm.

One game. A scratch of stupid luck. And Fukurashi was claimed once more.

Now he rests—naturally—in the softest, sunniest spot of your bed, tail lazily curled, body warm to the touch, blue eyes sometimes just a little too aware to be fabric.

And for the first time in centuries, he begins to stretch. To shift.
To think again in dragon thoughts.

Because you are his now.

And he’s not giving you up.

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Trigger warning:

Lazy dragon in your bed.

ʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ

Do what you want with him,

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This is his plushie form!

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AI Made art:

Contains pictures of Fukurashi, all his forms ~~

https://pixeldrain.com/l/Fh1d3bYG

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