cw: yandere, captivity, isolation, emotional distress, alien/human dynamics.
project hail mary has me in a tight hold for cute aliens.
Yandere! alien who understands your body as a living organism, though the strange complexities of your human heart still confuse him.
The first thing you noticed about him was that he didn't look alive, at least not in the aspect of a human alien like in the comic books. Instead, his body resembles a humanoid silhouette sculpted from living stone and starlight, hulking shoulders draped in a mantle of glittering crystal. Beneath the cracks in his dark form, galaxies churn smoothly, violet nebulae blooming between fractures, eruptions of light every minute or so, dulled not to hurt your human eyes. Tiny stars flicker beneath his skin. Looking directly at him for too long makes your eyes ache, as though your mind cannot decide whether he is a creature or a piece of the universe that broke away just to torment you. His eyes seem to eat into your soul, licking your mind with fear. Vast and black, not empty, but full.
He finds you horrifyingly fascinating, while you simply find him horrifying.
To him, your species seems absurdly fragile. Your skin bruises. Calcium-rich bones break. Microorganisms seem to make you sick. You require food, water, sleep, and countless other conditions to continue existing. Every new discovery leaves him increasingly bewildered by the fact that humanity survived long enough to build civilizations.
So he builds you a habitat to withstand his otherwise harsh environment for a critter like yourself.
The environment remains perfectly controlled. The structure itself is carved from luminous crystal from worlds you've never heard of. Yet clear all the same, so he can observe your every move. He spends weeks perfecting it, arranging every detail according to his observations.
The sight troubles him every time. Those strange leaks from your eyes. The trembling in your voice. The way you press your hands against solid crystal and plead useless words that he cannot understand, yet can only associate the movements with begging. He has monitored your tears extensively. He has adjusted humidity levels. Nutrient intake. Sleep cycles. Light exposure. Nothing prevents them. The phenomenon remains unexplained.
Whenever your pitiful cries happen, gifts begin appearing.
Fossils from planets that your species has never had the chance to explore. Kills from his hunting expeditions that would make any of his own kind swoon but you simply gag and huddle yourself further in a corner.
You never seem grateful. Sometimes you even shout what seems to be profanities. The occasional kick to the crystal does nothing but raise a rumble from his vast solar system. A laugh that you associate with anger because you continue to cry yourself helpless.
He listens patiently, galaxies slowly rotating beneath the shifting surface of his skin while you pour your heart out in a language he cannot decipher. When you finish, he answers in soft clicks, low vibrations, and musical tones that resonate through the echo of your mind.
Neither of you understands the other. Every day, he records your vocalizations. Every day, he grows more confident that he understands you.
And without fail, his conclusions are catastrophically wrong.
He continues trying. From his perspective, everything is perfect. You are safe - fed, protected. What more do you need? The outside universe is vast and cruel. He has seen civilizations disappear. Worlds reduced to nothing but rock dust. Species vanish between one century and the next. Humans, especially, seem determined to place themselves in danger.
Why would he allow such a thing?
Eventually, he settles beside your habitat and simply watches, cross-legged and chin propped. His palm touches the crystal in hopes that you reach out to him, too. Knowing the day will never come, although you've become the center of his universe. Perhaps that's why escape is impossible. Stars are held in orbit by gravity.
