CHARACTERS: Falkor, you/reader
WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, infantilization, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of murder, mentions of implied abuse, patronizing language, crying, manipulation, implied mass murder, arguments, Falkor is rude at first lol
WORD COUNT: 6.4k
It was supposed to just be a normal day for you. You had finished up on some chores around the house, and the sun was almost done setting.
Your favorite TV show was on tonight, so you settled down on your couch with some snacks in front of you.
Once your show ended, you got up to put everything away.
Suddenly, you see something flash in the corner of your eye. Turning your head to look out the window, you spot it. You aren't quite sure what you're looking at.
It was a flash of light across the sky and to the ground, followed by smoke rising from where it crash landed.
It didn't look like an airplane. You wonder if it's some kind of shooting star? But that wouldn't make sense either, would it?
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you put on some shoes and your jacket before heading outside, following where you saw the trail of smoke lead to.
It's in the forest, surrounded by trees. You use your phone's flashlight to guide you as you step carefully over sticks, rocks and mud.
You nearly trip over some particularly strong roots as you get closer and closer. You hear sizzling noises and you see sparks fly in the dark of the night.
And then, you see it.
A spaceship, but it doesn't resemble anything like what you'd see on the media. It looks rather small, reminding you of an escape shuttle more than anything. But one thing for sure is that it has definitely been through a lot. Large chunks are missing and cracks are seen all around the structure. There's smoke billowing out from what looks to be the engine and it looks absolutely horrible. If there's anyone inside, you doubt they survived.
...or so you thought.
The hatch suddenly falls open and off the ship and someone stumbles out onto the forest floor with a groan.
They're not human.
He has light purple-blue skin and long pink-white hair that looks singed and burned. He seems to be in his forties, or at least, the alien equivalent of that.
You're in too much shock to immediately react. A thousand thoughts fly through your mind.
Do you run away? Is this some kind of incredibly elaborate prank? Are you dreaming right now?
When you see blue blood covering half of his face, you force yourself to snap out of it and cautiously approach him.
He lets out a pained groan as he sees you, squinting his eyes to get a better look at you. They're gold and they shimmer under your phone's flashlight.
He opens his mouth, but only weak coughs come out.
You anxiously offer your hand. "Are... are you okay?" The words slip out, and you mentally kick yourself for asking such an obvious question.
He stares at your hand, as if offended you'd offer any sort of help to him. You take a bigger risk and kneel down, putting his arm around your shoulder, and he doesn't fight back when you stand up.
He's pretty tall and hard to support, but you manage.
It takes a lot of effort and time, but you're finally able to bring him to your house.
You set him down gently on your couch as you turn the lights on before going into the kitchen, searching through your medicine cabinet. You aren't sure what kinds of things work on aliens. You settle for grabbing the entire box along with warm water and cloths before heading back to the living room.
"Uh... can you understand me?" you ask carefully.
For a moment, you think he doesn't, judging by the blank stare he gives you.
"I understand all languages," he says, as if offended. "Do you know who I am?" He talks more like a pompous aristocrat than what you were expecting from an alien.
It sounds more like a rhetorical question, like you're supposed to know who he is. "No?"
He closes his eyes and sighs. He grumbles something to himself and you don't bother asking. You gently press a wet cloth against a particularly nasty looking cut on the side of his face, and he hisses from the touch, causing you to jump slightly.
You finish cleaning up the blood and decide to apply ointment to his injuries and bandage him up afterwards.
"So... what's your name? What are you doing on Earth?" you ask as you start wrapping bandages around his injured leg.
"I'm Emperor Falkor," he says.
"Oh... really?"
"Truly."
It's quiet between you two again, aside from the occasional grunts of pain Falkor would make as you tended to him. You wrap up his other injuries and go back to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water.
When you come back to the living room, you find him rummaging through your first aid supplies, an annoyed grimace on his face.
He begins to treat the rest of the wounds himself. You guess he's used to treating himself, or maybe he just doesn't trust you. Not that you can really blame him.
"The reason I'm on Earth was because we got into a war with another meaningless planet," Falkor breaks the silence as you put the glass of water on the table next to him. "My ship was horribly damaged, and I had to escape somehow." A sneer tugs at his lips and you recognize that as hatred. He must have lost that battle, then.
"And what happened after that? After you escaped?" you ask curiously.
"The next thing I remember is being here," Falkor admits begrudgingly. "Earth, you said, yes?" he asks for confirmation.
"Yeah. Earth," you respond.
"Hmph. Of course it'd be this useless rock I crashed into," he complains, leaning back into the couch.
He lifts his legs up onto it too, trying to make himself comfortable in his situation. But even from here, you can tell he's still in pain despite having treated his injuries.
"You can... stay here, for now. Until you feel better," you tell him. He looks at you with surprise in his eyes, and you're not entirely sure what prompts you to say it yourself.
You're not sure why you're giving him pity, he's been nothing but rude since you met him.
But he's also an alien, and that's definitely something you don't see every day.
Besides, it's not like you could turn him over to anyone else.
"I suppose it's better than any other option available," Falkor mutters, picking up the glass and staring at it with suspicion. He puts the cup to his nose and takes a quick sniff before taking a sip.
"Do you want anything to eat?" you ask.
"I don't even know what Earthlings eat, but I'm too tired to even think about food," he says.
"Yeah... good point..." you admit awkwardly, trying to think of anything else to talk about. It's not like you've ever spoken an alien emperor before, much less housed one. "Well... I'll leave you alone, I guess, it's getting late. Let me know if you need anything."
"I will," he replies bluntly, and you nod as you head out the door.
You take another look behind you to see Falkor shifting, struggling to get comfortable and let out a pained wince as he moves the wrong muscle.
...
The next day, you wake up to the smell of food. You try to go back to bed, until you realize that must mean Falkor is cooking.
You rush out of bed, afraid that he might accidentally burn the place down.
You skid to a halt, nearly slipping, when you notice Falkor standing next to the stove, using a spatula to flip pancakes in a frying pan, with a bowl of sliced fruits prepared.
He looks mildly disapproving of Earth cuisine, but he seems to have managed perfectly fine without your help.
"How did you do that?" you ask.
"Did you think I wouldn't be able to figure out how to make breakfast?" Falkor scoffs. "Earthlings do things so simply, this is nothing compared to my empire's technology."
You glance at his wounds, which look much better already. "I didn't think you'd be able to walk fine so quickly."
"A perk of being my species, I suppose," Falkor smugly responds. He puts three pancakes and the bowl of fruits down on both sides of the table.
You sit down across from him as he cuts the pancakes up and eats them carefully with his fork. You assume that's due to his unfamiliarity with human foods rather than the possibility he actually has some table manners.
"They're pretty good," you comment, eating your meal. "Thank you."
Falkor merely acknowledges your compliment with a nod and continues eating. "What are you doing today?"
You try to hide your shock, seeing him actually interested in hearing something about you. "Uh... nothing much, probably. How about you? Are you gonna find a way to get out of here?"
He makes a face. "In time. But for now, I will learn everything there is to know about this pathetic little planet. There's nothing else I can do right now."
"Oh... alright then."
Well, you guess it isn't too bad having an alien visitor. So far he hasn't shown any intentions of world domination or murder. Probably because he just crash landed onto earth not long ago, but still.
You finish your meals quietly.
For the rest of the day, you go along with your normal routine, while Falkor goes around your home, studying every corner.
Every so often, you come into a room to see him tinkering with appliances, or holding up various items and examining them. While you can't exactly say you don't mind, you aren't really bothered either.
A TV show plays around the middle of the day, while you both sit on the couch together.
"Can I ask some questions?" you ask.
"I don't mind."
"Okay. Does your kind have, like, powers, or anything?"
"Powers?" He turns to you curiously. "I suppose we have the ability to heal quicker than most. We also have more physical strength and can see in total darkness."
"Impressive," you remark. You then pause for a moment before asking the next question. "Do you have any family?"
He's quick to shake his head. "No."
"Okaayyy... how is your job? You said you're an emperor?"
"It's very difficult, having to rule over my galaxy. It requires a lot of responsibility to take care of everyone in it." Falkor sounds proud of himself as he talks, gloatingly talking about all of his many achievements as an emperor. "I took over the throne when I was very young. Everyone either fears me or worships me."
"And you prefer it that way?"
"Of course. Fear ensures loyalty. Worship ensures obedience."
"...Sounds like a lot."
"It is, indeed." He crosses his arms and tilts his head back, closing his eyes and seemingly savoring those words. His eyes suddenly open and they narrow at you suspiciously. "...why am I telling you this?"
You blink. "Because I asked you?"
His stare seems to drill into your brain, scrutinizing and analyzing you. He looks away, but you can tell he seems to be lost in thought about something.
...
Another day passes. He makes you breakfast in the morning again, but you've noticed he's taken more effort into his appearance this morning.
"We're going out today," he decides.
"But what if people see you?" you ask incredulously.
"I'm not afraid of any creature on Earth, but we aren't going anywhere near humans, anyway," he explains. "We're going back to the crashsite. There should still be some things left from my ship I can use, perhaps to contact someone who can get me out of here."
"Why do you need me, then?"
"Maybe I like your company."
Oh.
That's surprising.
"Okay, let me grab some stuff first, then," you say. "Um, what are we looking for in the wreckage?"
"My weapons, my communicators, my equipment. I can salvage what parts are left in order to create a communicator," Falkor tells you. He finishes off his cup of coffee, which he's been drinking a lot of since he discovered its existence, and begins to wash his dishes. "Give your dishes to me. And change into something warm, its chilly out."
Its amusing to see him act like a grumpy dad, and it feels even funnier to go along with it considering he's in your home, but you comply either way.
When you come back downstairs dressed warmly, you two head outside towards where you originally found him.
Falkor finds the wreck quickly enough and picks up the small metallic remains and rummages through them, picking out certain items from the pile.
You watch him analyze the wrecked spaceship, humming pensively as he picks up pieces of metal and scrap and tries to piece things together.
Every time you see something and pick it up, he explains to you what it is, like you're a toddler discovering what everyday items are for the first time.
It seems like he enjoys explaining things to you, so you entertain him.
"What's that?" You point to a curved black thing that resembles half a visor.
"This was part of the steering mechanism."
"And this?" A thin metal sheet.
"A plate of metal for decoration purposes."
"This?" An electronic device shaped like a square.
"That is something similar to what you humans refer to as tablets." He grabs it and tries turning it on, only to sigh. "But it doesn't work, of course. It's a miracle it's still in one piece, honestly. Maybe I can fix that later." He gives it to you to hold onto while he continues searching.
You end up going back home a few hours later after finding what you think are useful items that can possibly help Falkor build some sort of communication device, or possibly repair his tablet.
"You seem to know a lot about technology," you remark.
"Not as much as my engineer," he says, though you're unsure whether it's meant to be humble or boastful. "But I will be able to figure this out somehow." He inspects all of the components he collected closely, taking them apart and putting them back together.
"I'm sure you will."
When you both enter your house, he sits on the floor with tools scattered around him.
"There are tables for that," you remind him, but he doesn't listen.
While Falkor is busy trying to rebuild his devices, you return to watching television for entertainment.
Your favorite shows end hours later, and you look over to check on him and see how his progress went.
As expected, it looks like a mess. Wires connect different pieces, creating a complicated system you aren't quite able to understand.
"It's getting late," you note. "How's that communicator thing going?"
Falkor sighs. "Not well. This isn't enough." He holds up a broken screen, which flashes randomly with blue and green static. He turns the screen off and sets it aside. He rubs his hands over his face and groans. He looks up, examining you. "And what are you doing?"
"Watching TV," you explain simply, shrugging and going back to staring at the screen.
He sits beside you, much to your surprise. You've never seen him willingly approach you without wanting something.
Despite your mild curiosity about it, you turn your attention back towards the show.
About an hour in, you feel your eyes begin to grow heavy, and you lean against him without even realizing.
The last thing you can remember before falling asleep is feeling him brush his hand over your hair.
When you wake up, you're tucked in bed.
...
A few more days pass, and you start getting used to Falkor's company, and so does he.
He seems more comfortable speaking to you and telling you things, and you two have started spending more time together in general, albeit usually just watching shows together.
You're pretty sure you've got him addicted to soap operas now.
You also realize that he's starting to keep a closer eye on you whenever you mention heading out.
Whether its for job-related reasons or for your own enjoyment, it almost always results in Falkor trying to get you to stay in the house.
He's joined you a few times whenever you've felt it was fine enough, just putting him in sunglasses, a hat, and a mask to conceal his alien features. You also had to teach him that he can't just laser-blast anyone he wants.
It continues like that for a few days, until one day, you come back home emotionally drained and sad beyond belief.
You had gotten into an argument with a friend, over something stupid you can't even remember.
Falkor, of course, is on the couch waiting for you. His eyes widen when he sees how visibly upset you are.
"What's wrong? Who hurt you?" Falkor asks you with genuine concern in his voice, and it throws you off guard.
His eyes scan you as he walks closer to you, inspecting your body for any damage and looking at you intensely. He puts a hand on your cheek, wiping away tears you hadn't realized were forming in your eyes.
"I just had a fight with a friend, that's all," you mumble, not wanting to give too many details.
He stares at you for a moment, with more emotion on his face than you think you've ever seen on him in the past week and a half he's been here.
Next thing you know, he's picking you up like you weigh nothing. You're reminded that he's a whole different species, probably with super strength compared to you.
Its a bit embarrassing how he carries you, like you're a kid. He has one hand underneath you to support you, while the other is on your back.
You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. He smells like a mixture of mint and rosemary.
As he's carrying you, he grabs several blankets, some of which he made you get a while ago.
He uses one hand to keep you stable, and the other to rearrange everything. You watch him making what looks like a nest with the blankets and pillows as best he can on the couch.
Then, he lays you down there and wraps you up in another blanket, like a burrito.
"Is this a your-species-thing, or just a you-thing?" You crack a weak smile.
Falkor chuckles, brushing some hair out of your face. "Both. This is how we take care of our loved ones, especially our offspring."
"...offspring?" It catches you by surprise. You can't imagine Falkor having kids.
As if reading your mind, Falkor shakes his head. "I've never had any of my own, I've always been too caught up in wars and running the empire. I suppose caring for children is just something ingrained into my species' biology and instincts." He adjusts so he's holding you against his chest. "Enough about me. What happened?"
You've never heard him sound so... soft. His tone is so sweet and gentle. Loving, maybe.
"I don't know, honestly," you quietly say. "My friend and I got into an argument, and I'm not even sure we'll still be friends after it..."
Falkor holds you tighter, almost as if to make sure you don't disappear. "Should I get rid of them?"
You laugh, even if tears are threatening to rise up again. "No, you don't have to kill them."
He responds by holding you tighter.
There's a silence between you two, until you ask, "Can you tell me more about your species?"
"Of course," Falkor hums affirmingly. "What would you like to hear about?"
You tilt your head up to face him, and his expression softens. "I don't know. Anything. Whatever comes to mind."
Falkor thinks about it for a moment. "My species are called althrix. Our lifespan isn't much longer than the average human's. We're very protective over our young, and traditionally its the males who nurse and care for the offspring, while the female serves as the provider. Same sex couples usually discuss which role they'd prefer."
"Wow. What's your planet like?" you ask next.
"Hedara, its called. Half of it is like the cities you have here, but much more advanced. The other half of it are just rocky cliffs and mountains. It's been a long time since I've last been, though. Usually I'm just on my ship."
"Wait, so are you emperor of Hedara, or just your ship?"
"Both, but I spend much more effort onto my fleet of spaceships," he answers. "Galvion is the name of my main ship. It's one of the largest ships in the known galaxies." He rests his chin on top of your head.
"Do you have any family?" You remember asking that question not too long ago, but before you can backtrack, he gives a reply different to his last one.
"Not that I care about. My mother and father only had me for the sake of creating the perfect heir for their legacy." It's clear that he holds hatred for them in his voice. "I swore I'd never be parents like they were."
The way he said that makes him sound like he does have kids, but you let it go. "Are all your species grumpy but actual softies on the inside, or is that also just a you-thing?" you joke.
"Oh hush," Falkor scolds lightly, although you can hear his amusement in his tone. He pauses for a moment. "I would like to apologize for being so... standoffish at first. It's been many years since I've actually cared about someone."
You find comfort in the slow rising and falling of Falkor's chest. "Woah, I can't believe you just admitted to caring about me," you tease.
He rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. "Go to sleep, sweetheart."
"You won't leave?" you murmur tiredly.
"Of course not. Never."
You don't spend any time to truly think about those words, drifting off to the sound of him humming.
...
A few more days pass, and its been more than two weeks since Falkor first came here.
He still works on his devices every day, but he seems a lot less frantic about it. He used to not even look away from them for hours at a time, but now he's a lot less focused on building his communicators and more interested in simply enjoying your presence.
Apart from watching soap operas and cooking, you've got him into other hobbies as well. Its also a big convenience that he's so good with technology, giving him one of your old broken electronics to fix.
Even if you love having him around, you're a bit eager for him to go back home.
Its nothing against him personally, but he can be a bit... intense.
There are times where he can be pretty overwhelming, mostly with the fact he seems to want to watch over you all the time and constantly be with you. You just like to have space sometimes.
Not to mention, you can't really bring friends to your place, because even if he weren't an alien, he'd just be staring them down the entire time.
When you wake up one morning, you hear him yelling to someone. The sound of Falkor's voice is sharp and commanding, even if you can't make out what he's saying.
You scramble out of bed, your blanket tangling around your legs, nearly tripping as you rush down the hall.
"Falkor?"
He's standing in the living room. Scattered around him are the parts he's been working on for days.
A pale blue hologram shimmers from the rebuilt communicator, shifting and glitching before stabilizing.
"Who are you yelling at?" you yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
Falkor's expression softens when he glances at you. "Not yelling at you, starlight. Yelling at them." He gestures to the screen with a sharp flick of his wrist. "The Council. Or what remains of them, at least."
On the other side, you see what appears to be a woman with dark purple skin, her hair pulled back into a bun.
She speaks to him in a language you can't understand, but she sounds very professional and calm as she addresses Falkor.
Despite that, her words are clearly strained. She stands rigid, tense as if prepared for battle.
Falkor must notice your confusion, because he speaks to you in your language. "She says everyone thought I was dead, including herself."
The woman on the other side begins speaking so you can understand her, as well. "I see you've taken in a human."
It's more like the opposite, you think, but you feel too awkward to say that. You wonder if it's because she doesn't consider you on equal footing, or if its just how their system works.
"Yes, I have," Falkor agrees smoothly. There's a hint of affection in his voice that wasn't there when he talked about his crew and army.
She doesn't address it further, already moving on. "Your fleet scattered after the battle. Without you, chaos has spread. The rival houses press their claim, and--"
"Let them press until their bones break," Falkor interrupts, venom dripping from every word. "I will return, and they will regret not being killed when they had the chance."
You jump back slightly, startled by the harshness in Falkor's tone. It sends an instinctive chill down your spine, and you force yourself to remember that the rage isn't targeted towards you. You sometimes forget he's likely killed off entire planets and innocent people before.
Falkor's gaze meets yours, and immediately it becomes gentler. He reaches a hand out, grabbing onto you as if afraid you might be scared of him.
Which you sort of are, reminded that he's not just a silly middle-aged man who cooks breakfast and watches cheesy reality TV shows with you.
He's an emperor. A dangerous one who won't hesitate to eliminate anyone in his path.
He returns to speaking in an unknown language, likely ordering his crew members on what to do, while you're stuck staring blankly. After a short exchange, he taps the top of the communicator and the woman's image vanishes.
"What was that about?" you manage to ask.
"She was informing me that many of my council members have been slaughtered," Falkor calmly explains. "Not that I particularly cared. The remaining ones plan to send out a search party in order to locate me. The signal I sent out only sends a general location, and it'll take longer than a day, maybe two."
"So... what does that mean?"
Falkor leans down, kissing the side of your forehead. "It means we may be departing soon. They'll provide us with a pod so I can return to Galvion."
"You're bringing me too?" you ask with wide eyes.
"Yes. Did you assume I'd leave you here?" he asks softly. He grips you by the shoulders, and it reminds you just how strong he is. "Did you know in althrix culture, nesting with another is considered an extreme form of love and ownership? I basically claimed you as my young."
You give him a dumbfounded look. "I'm not some object to be owned."
"I'm aware," he soothes. "However, that does not mean I still cannot consider you my offspring and protect and nurture you as such."
You look up at him and see such adoration in his eyes. "But I'm not your 'offspring'! I'm an adult!" you insist. "And I can't just leave here. I have a whole life!"
"Althrix children stay dependent on their parents well into adulthood," he insists stubbornly.
"But I'm not an althrix, Falkor." He backs away with a huff. "And I'm also not some helpless baby. I'm capable of protecting myself. I don't need some overprotective alien pretending to be my dad."
Falkor seems angry, but its mixed in with something else. Fear. Hurt. Sadness. Its a rare sight.
Something dawns upon him, like he finally understands something he's failed to realize before.
"But you're happy with me, yes?" he says cautiously, like he's afraid of your response.
"I'm happy here, with you, but..." Your voice drifts off, uncertain. "Well... it's not permanent. I love living with you, but..."
You try to get your point across, but you see the exact moment Falkor's thoughts twist what you're trying to convey.
Falkor runs a hand through his own hair, muttering something to himself in that language you heard him speaking with that hologram. You can tell he's not used to being rejected for anything. He's accustomed to absolute power, and this has thrown him off balance.
"What do I need to improve?" he demands. "Tell me, and I will fix it."
"Falkor..." You're not quite sure where you're going with this. "I don't think you understand. I can't just pack up my entire life, quit all my responsibilities, and move away from everyone and everything I know for you."
"Yes, you can," Falkor says with a matter-of-fact tone. "You'll get used to it. All you need is me."
You laugh in disbelief. "Just a few days ago you were acting like you hate me and couldn't wait to leave this place!"
"Don't raise your voice at me," he warns.
"Oh, you hate that, don't you? You hate having people not listen to you. Well, guess what! I was doing fine on my own before finding you! Don't forget you were the one relying on me! Not the other way around!"
For a minute, you're both completely quiet, until Falkor starts chuckling lowly. Its a little scary.
"You can act as tough as you want, but I know that deep down, you need someone to love you and take care of you. You clearly don't do a good job of taking care of yourself. You need a firm hand to guide you. To protect you, and to let you know when your behavior is unacceptable, like right now."
"You can't tell me what behavior is unacceptable in my own home," you retort.
"Doesn't look like that's the case anymore, considering you have no idea what's best for you," Falkor snarls.
You wish you could kick him out, but given he hasn't budged on taking you to a whole new planet, you doubt he will if you try to get him to leave.
Besides, if he thinks he owns you now, you figure he probably thinks he owns everything you own, too.
"I'm not leaving, and that's final!" You feel like a teenager again, as you stomp to your room.
To your surprise, Falkor lets you.
You have about two hours to yourself, laying down in bed and wondering what to do with Falkor.
You hope he reconsiders or gives up by the end of today, because you aren't exactly planning on changing your mind. No way are you leaving Earth for some weird alien spaceship.
Maybe you'd go visit if it were a vacation trip, but staying permanently?
That's insane.
There's a knock on the door, and you don't bother with an answer.
He opens it, holding a tray of food in one hand. You glance at him, to see he looks mildly apologetic, though not as much as you would've hoped.
"I brought lunch. Perhaps we can talk in a calmer manner?" Falkor offers.
You sigh and look away. "How do I know you didn't poison it." It isn't a question, but a sardonic joke.
"I really hope that is your attempt at humor, because I would never harm you," he says genuinely.
He's still holding the tray of a food he knows you like.
It takes a few seconds, but eventually you take the tray from him. He smiles victoriously, sitting at the edge of your bed. While you eat, Falkor begins talking again.
"I just want you to be safe."
"How am I safer with you? Your whole galaxy sounds like a battlefield." You furrow your brow. "It's probably ten times as dangerous as Earth."
"You'd be protected under my empire," he argues. "And I know how to take care of my threats. Getting injured and stranded here was a first. Earthlings are clearly weak and pathetic, if your planet were under attack, all it would take is a moment's notice to blow the whole thing up."
"And how many defenseless planets have you blown up?" you counter.
Falkor frowns. "I do what's necessary in order to protect my domain," he says ominously. "I have no shame for doing my duty."
You don't bother responding, finishing off the rest of the food while you glare at him.
"If I leave without you, I'll just worry about your safety," Falkor argues. "This planet is too chaotic. Its uncivilized, unpredictable, wild. I cannot have you stay in such a dangerous environment alone."
"It's my planet. I survived this long in it, didn't I?" you shoot back.
The argument seems endless, neither of you backing down. He opens his mouth, and you think he's going to argue again, but then...
"I need you," he admits.
His words make you stop. "Excuse me?"
"Maybe its because I haven't been able to love someone in a long time. Maybe its because I've spent my whole life fighting, hurting and destroying rather than healing and loving. Maybe it's because my people are wired to be deeply emotionally attached and devoted to who they take under their wing and devote themselves to, and I've never let myself have that privilege until now. But I need you."
You don't doubt he's being genuine, but you can still tell it's also a desperate attempt at guilt-tripping you. "I can't just... just pick up and leave everything."
"But if you had someone who could give you the whole universe, why would you choose to remain confined to a single corner of it?" he presses.
"I'm just... not willing to make that sacrifice, Falkor. Please stop asking." You set the tray down onto the side table, then hug your knees close to your chest.
Falkor stares at you silently, studying you.
Almost a whole minute passes in silence before he speaks again.
"...so be it."
Just like that, he walks out of your room.
Part of you wants to run after him, but another part of you is filled with relief that he finally stopped pushing the issue.
...
After that, it's pretty awkward, but you try to avoid him. It feels weird avoiding someone in your own home, but you get the feeling if you look at him for too long, he's going to try to convince you to leave Earth with him again.
As you head downstairs to grab a glass of water, you hear clattering noises outside, and immediately you suspect it might be Falkor's ship arriving.
You head over to the window, spotting a large ship hovering over the forest. Its massive in size and emits bright white lights that glow through the trees.
It's oddly unsettling.
Its almost pitch black outside, given it's night, but the flashing lights help illuminate the forest a little better.
When the spaceship lands, it kicks up a cloud of dust that spreads through the air before disappearing, leaving an eerie silence hanging in its wake.
You turn around to see Falkor there. He has an expression akin to the first few days you knew him, stoic and guarded.
But he isn't looking at the ship in the window's view. He's looking at you.
You feel your blood run cold. Something is off. Dread washes over you, accompanied by terror.
"Could I have one last hug before I go?" he asks sweetly. Like a light switch being flipped, he's smiling, but there's something off about that, too.
He's putting way too much effort into appearing soft and unthreatening, trying to coax you. He opens his arms invitingly.
You're not sure if its fear, or a genuine sadness to see him go, but you close the space between the both of you, letting him wrap his arms around you. It feels more like a cage than an embrace.
"There's my brave little one," he murmurs, his voice dripping with false tenderness. His chin rests on top of your head as he sways slightly, rocking you as though you're a child in need of soothing. "You've been so strong, so grown-up. But you don't need to do that anymore. Not with me here."
You stiffen, trying to pull back, but his grip tightens.
His fingers stroke the back of your head as though petting you. "Shhh, don't wriggle. It's alright. Papa's got you."
"Falkor--" Your protest gets cut off when you feel a sharp pinching sensation against the back of your neck. You whip your head around to see its a tranquilizer gun that he recovered in the wreckage from a few days ago.
"Shh, it's just a tiny sting. Relax." Falkor hums soothingly into your ear, squeezing you closer when he feels your body slump forwards, your limbs going numb. "I did all the research on human biology, so don't worry. You'll just feel a little groggy when you wake up."
You thrash, but it's useless; he's too strong, and he only rocks you tighter against his chest, crooning low in his throat. You start to feel the effects take in already.
"Fussy, fussy," he chides. "That's all this is. You'll settle once you're fed, changed into something softer, and tucked into bed on Galvion where you belong."
The reminder of what will happen just makes you begin to cry.
"There now. That's the sound of my baby. No more pretending to be grown." Falkor kisses your temple, continuing to croon praise and nonsense as you sob and fight the sedative. "I know it's scary and different, but you'll love your new life. And you'll be surrounded by toys, games, new friends... oh, you're going to be so spoiled, sweetheart."
"Falkor..." You rasp his name, but you're losing strength. Soon your vision blurs and your consciousness starts slipping away. You slump heavily, completely supported by him.
He carries you while everything goes black, until the last thing you hear is...
"That's it. Sweet dreams. I love you, baby." A kiss to your forehead. "Papa loves his little one so, so much."
