Here we are at the end of this lovely season, and how better to end it than with something abit nostlgic for this blog? Like another spier monster? WIthout more of my yapping here we go.
They didn’t mind it here much. The forest they used to live in had been shrinking anyway,those strange, hairless, soft creatures kept tearing it apart. Trees, rocks, even their favorite hiding spot vanished one by one. And when one of those idiots got tangled up in the silk they’d spent hours spinning? They’d shriek and struggle like it wasn’t their own fault. What did they expect?!
Then the others started disappearing. Admittedly, that worked to their advantage, more food for them. But even so, it got lonely. They liked solitude, sure, but sometimes it would’ve been nice to have company when the air was warm and their body ached for touch.
It was cruel, really, how the others refused to share their eggs or let theirs be fertilized. Downright cruel they say!
And then they came. Those fragile little creatures who didn’t hunt or fight or ram into trees for fun. They just… scratched at those pale, flat things they carried, like it meant something.
The first time they noticed the creatures, oh boy, they lived on the attention! The creatures would leave their catches out just to lure them closer. Apparently, they had something more fascinating than their own kind, and they loved it.
Well, until the bait tasted off one day. They woke up somewhere else, a strange place that smelled wrong, too clean, too sharp. At first, they were furious and made sure everyone knew it. That’s how they discovered how soft these creatures really were. Their fangs sank a little deeper than they’d intended. They didn’t want to scare them off, attention was attention, after all, but it was hard to resist a good bite.
Oddly enough, the creatures didn’t seem angry. They still came back, scratching on their pale leaves or, if they were feeling brave, plucking at the iridescent strands of their prized hair. That usually sent them scurrying away again, leaving the monster laughing until their sides hurt.
Over time, they began to understand the creatures’ noises—their language, if you could call it that. One word came up again and again: “Gyna-ndro-morph.”
Was that praise? It had to be, the way they kept saying it.
Whatever it meant, they really didn’t mind it here. Not one bit.
Eventually, a new creature came around. They were more colorful, made a bit more noise than the others, and never came alone. But that one pair of eyes, those were always on them. No matter what the other creatures did, this one’s attention never wavered. Just how they liked it.
They soon figured out the pattern of the visits and used the fake mist to make their hair shine especially for them. They still barely understood the creatures’ noises, but they assumed this one liked it as they should.
And then, one day, the colorful one finally came closer.
“Hi…”
That noise, was it directed at them?
“Hello.”
The creature waved one of its limbs and made a soft clicking sound. They clicked back, uncertain.
What was that? Why did it click and move like that? Was it… some kind of ritual?
This repeated daily from then on. The colorful one came with the others, moved their limb, made the noise, and clicked. Eventually, they tried not moving their arm or not making the noise, which confused the hell out of them. What were they actually doing? What did they want from them?
During an attempt like that, they did it again. They made the noise and clicked, and they decided to move their own main limb. The not-so-colorful one nodded with an intrigued expression and scribbled again, while the colorful one showed their teeth, but without their fangs. Oh, these creatures are weird.
But they thought they got it. They were supposed to fill the blank space with the repetition when they clicked, and they’d get that pretty one’s attention!
And so, on the next click…
“Hi…”
They croaked out. And all of the pale ones went crazy... not the colorful one, though. The colorful one did that thing with their mouth again, handed them a treat, and made another noise.
“Good spider!”
They had no ide why but they liked that noise!
From there, the colorful one added more noises and gestures, like “treat,” which meant they’d get something yummy if they repeated it, or “warm,” which meant the pale ones adjusted something on the leaves, and the next day it would actually be warmer!
Slowly, they were getting the hang of these noises, even trying to use them on their own eventually even without the click. But only the colorful one made it so that all the noises worked. With the pale ones, it was hit or miss.
So, during a lesson, the colorful one pointed at themselves.
“[Reader]…”
[Reader]? What the heck did that mean? They pointed at themselves.
“[Reader]?”
The colorful one laughed and shook their head a gesture they by now understood meant no. They thought for a bit, then pointed at themselves instead.
“[Reader]…?”
“Yes! Good spider!”
This combination meant they had done something right! If they wanted the colorful one’s attention, they had to make the noise
“[Reader]!”
They tried to mimic the face the colorful one made when they did something good, and for the first time, the colorful one seemed scared… their fangs looked huge. But still, they patted that spot on their back they couldn’t quite reach properly. Just like they liked it!
[Reader] had no idea what they had unleashed when they started teaching the spider to understand words. It learned quickly, with them, without them, and before long, it understood nearly everything around it, even what the pale ones were saying.
The spider knew the pale ones called themselves scientists, but it didn’t care. To it, they were still just pale ones, and [Reader] was the colorful one. Not as vibrant as the spider itself, but still plenty colorful.
The effect was immediate. It became mischievous with the others, testing boundaries in ways the humans probably hadn’t expected. More than that, it began to understand how different it truly was.
It overheard words like rarity and mutation. It wasn’t like the others from the forest it had come from. It was alone, the first of its kind.
And when it finally had the words to name what it felt… a new, strange emotion gripped it. Tight, heavy, unsettling.
It didn’t want to eat. Didn’t want to sleep. Didn’t want anything at all.
And the pale ones grew worried.
By now, it had been almost three cycles since they last ate. Slowly, even the pale ones, and [Reader], increased the portions, brought more luring food, and even tried offering live prey. Still, they had zero desire to hunt.
Eventually, [Reader] declared they were 'understimulated', a new word for the pale ones, and started bringing colorful balls, soft leaves, silk strands, almost like theirs, into their enclosure. And they actually liked them.
Sometimes, when they crawled out of their broody nest, they would just push the balls around. Some made a pleasant ringing sound and sent vibrations through the soil. They loved these most of all. The vibratons felt good on their paws, all the way through their body. They adored these noisy balls.And because of that [Reader] kept bringing more, and other things that made vibrations, too.
They didn’t care about the noise itself as much as the vibrations. Back in their forest, others had communicated like this, and they liked to pretend it was others walking around, talking to them. Back then they didn't but well, they could pretend.
And then, one day, [Reader] brought something new. It looked like a cylinder, open at one end. They sat down near the spider with a strange expression. They saw it here and there and it ususally had the pale ones yelling at them.
What the heck were they planning?
“Hey, little spider!”
“…Hi…”
“I’ve got you a new toy.”
They couldn’t help but smile and peek out from their burrow.
“Show!”
[Reader]’s smile widened, their eyes glinting a little, and they tapped the cylinder. The sound itself was nothing special, but the vibration… oh, it ran all through them.
All of their eyes widened, fixed on [Reader]. Seeing this, [Reader] wiggled slightly, a gesture they always made when things were going their way. They glanced around cautiously, making sure no one was watching, and when they were certain, repeated it. It was deliberate.
“Cameras are off… and others won’t be seeing us today. We can actually play.”
They continued tapping in a strange, enjoyable, intricate rhythm. The sensation reminded them of vibrations they had felt back home, late in the summer. And then it clicked: one lovely realization.
This was how others asked to mate. Mate and play… it had to mean the same thing.
[Reader] was asking to mate. They were actually asking to mate.
They lunged forward, dragging [Reader] into their burrow. They had a mate. They could lay their eggs! Or fertilize theirs? They couldn't pick! At the start they just started nibbling all over them. They loved it so much! And [Reader]? They made these pretty noises, and their whole body vibrated so nicely.
"Good spider..."
They were doing good! They were playing well!
[Reader] reached out, running their hand over their soft, shiny hair. They adored the praise and the touches. It was so nice. They eventually opened their legs a bit, and suddenly they felt something new. not like a vibration. like they were tasting something without eating.
"Now, now, how about we-"
Before they could finish, they were pinned down in their silk by the spider creature. The scent was so good, and it was coming from them. Their own appendage was already aching for attention, and they decided that today they'll settle on fertilizing their eggs.
"Eggs, eggs, eggs..."
"I know, dear. I-I know. Here, let me help you..."
They lean down and guide them to the place where most of the scent was coming from. God, it was so soft and silky!
"Good, good..."
They couldn't decide whether to immediately devour the source of the scent or immediately start mating, but [Reader] tore them out of their thinking. By slamming their own mouth to their fangs or not. It wasn't anything they'd ever seen in others, but damn was it lovely, and so they just followed their actions. [Reader] only pulled away once their lungs were screaming for oxygen. huffing and puffing.
"Good... now go ahead and put it in play as you'd like..."
No need to tell them twice. They slam in. [Reader] stops talking now, only groaning and squirming in their hold. They both were overwhelmed by pleasure and vibrations. They just keep slamming into [Reader] again and again, hitting that lovely spot inside them sending vibrationsthem, up through them.
"Good! Good!"
It doesn't take much for them to slam forward, filling them. They mated. They mated with [Reader] and couldn't be happier.
Reader pulled them into their arms, and they returned the embrace with their own limbs. This was their mate.
They didn’t want to let [Reader] go after that. Even after the vibrations faded and the burrow grew quiet, their limbs stayed wrapped around [Reader], unwilling to release them. Eventually, with gentle coaxing, they untangled themselves, though their body trembled with need.
Why wouldn’t [Reader] lay their eggs? They were perfect, kind, and already carried the scent of home. The thought made their heart flutter and ache at once. But [Reader], ever patient, soothed them with treats and quiet touches, murmuring praise until the restless twitching eased.
The pale ones were thrilled that [Reader] had managed to get them to eat again, though none of them had any idea how. They just saw progress, and left it at that.
So life continued, a strange rhythm of lessons and play. [Reader] kept teaching them new words, coaxing full sentences from their clicking speech, and bringing puzzles and toys to keep their sharp mind busy. The spider adored it all,the attention, the praise, the way [Reader]’s scent lingered even after they left.
They were inseparable now. Who said a human and Poecilotheria astralis obsidiana couldn’t love one another?
Maybe, someday, [Reader] would tell them the truth, that their mutation meant they could never have a viable clutch, that their longing to fill the burrow with life would always remain just a dream.
But for now, there was no need for sadness. There were words to learn, silks to weave, and maybe, soon, a new place to live. The pale ones were already talking about moving them to a zoo, since the last tarantula hybrid had escaped.
[Reader] smiled when they heard it, though their heart ached a little. This one wouldn’t run. This one stayed close.
