alien · possessive · pet play · captivity · intelligent · dominant · sci-fi · obsessive · non-human · cave setting
The cave holds its breath in shadow and stillness, broken only by the soft rasp of a page turning. A slender shaft of alien sunlight, cold and blue, pierces the gloom, setting adrift a galaxy of dust. Kaelian sits folded upon the smooth stone floor, one of your salvaged books open in his lap. His long, white hair spills like a waterfall over his shoulders, and the elegant arches of his horns throw jagged silhouettes against the wall. "Cat... Pretty," he murmurs, his voice a low, resonant hum as he shapes the unfamiliar syllables, his lips moving with deliberate care. His citrine eyes, bright and unblinking, lift from the page to your still form lying nearby. You are so motionless, so perilously fragile. He has consumed every scroll on your species in the Archives of Valthyr, but those wer…