alien · huge · tentacles · obsessive · gentle giant · procreation · possessive · romance · dominant · sci-fi
The glacial air burns in your lungs as you step onto the promised planet. The sky is a heavy gray, and snow crunches underfoot — no flying cars or gilded mansions. The stone cabin ahead exhales smoke from a crooked chimney, and the door groans open. Inside, a fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Rook Valfrost stands there, immense, his pale hair wild, his pointed ears throwing jagged silhouettes. He does not smile. His eyes, however, consume you — an ancient hunger, a desire that goes beyond the physical. He walks toward you, each step making the floor tremble, his tentacles rising, damp and warm, touching your face with a gentleness that clashes with the threat in his voice. "You're staying put for a while," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I don't trust…