maybe one where the girl gets rescued by adventurers but after a week she goes seeking for the drider? maybe to be her wife?
Kabr0z Writes Episode 220: Rescue Attempt
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
And there's the Ao3!
CWs: A light one today! Mentions of oviposition; light kidnapping; major character death; gentle bondage;
A/N: This one took longer than it should, and I am... Dissatisfied. Either way, I'm not letting it eat another week of my limited writing time. I might revisit these May'Stra and her pet again, because let's face it they're adorable together
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You heard them before you saw them.
Three of them, trying their best to sneak but failing. The web was as tight as the head of a drum, reverberating with any echoes that made their way down here. In the centre of it, hanging several feet into the darkness below, you listened. May’Stra was away, you never asked where. It simply wasn’t your place. Your role was simple: to dangle below the web, a vessel for eggs. Every so often you’d be hauled up; a reprieve from the silken cocoon swaddling you. Your owner would see to your needs, then satisfy hers, before wrapping you back up and suspending you once again from her home.
They were new. Not elves, nor the spider-blessed. Heavy footed, much as they tried to pretend otherwise. Why were they here?
Torchlight bathed the room as the first rounded the corner. Flickering amber, drowned out by magical light from the second. The third wasn’t carrying any torch, trying to cling to shadows.
“You’re sure this is right?” The first one was gruff, a voice like a shaken bag of gravel
“The chamber isn’t on the map, and she never left the city. No, she’s here.” The one with the mage-light was softer spoken, but with the air of someone who’d never admit if they were wrong
They set out onto the web, carefully stepping from strand to strand. The wizard and the swordsman making for the centre where the weaving was densest, the other pulling a bow off his back, picking his way around the edges.
The archer let out a whistle and pointed. He was pointing at you. “There, that one’s breathing” the words were barely whispered, but rang out through the room.
The two figures closest to you hurried over. Hand over hand, they pulled you up before cutting you from your silken cocoon. The men recoiled from you. Your naked body, round with eggs, blank eyes staring up at them.
“Not much left of her, is there?” The swordsman turned to the mage “Doubt she has the money either”
“Not our concern. She's alive, now we just get her back to the surface and get paid.” The mage looked over at the archer “Varik. We're leaving.”
Slung over the warrior's shoulder, staring at the floor as they carried you out of your home, along the rough-hewn stone corridor towards a set of spiral stairs you only dimly remembered. You struggled weakly, weak limbs kicking and wriggling against the grip of the mercenary
You were halfway up the staircase when you heard it. An unearthly shriek resounding from the bottom of the stairs. The mercenaries picked up the pace, hurrying towards the first landing. A many-legged scuttling chased them.
Every few steps the wizard would turn, sending a volley of shots down behind him. They spiralled down the passage, following the curve of the stairs.
You heard as they splashed against the pursuing form. She grunted as they hit her, but her pace did not falter. She was gaining ground, each volley taking less and less time to find their mark.
The warrior put you down, drawing a sword and taking up a defensive posture. You waited, motionless as you listened to armoured feet descend towards the unseen May’Stra.
The footsteps stopped.
A scream.
A wet thumping sound.
The scuttling resumed.
The mage and the archer looked at one another. Then at you
“Fuck this.”
“Yeah. Sorry,” the archer cut a lock of hair from your head, still matted with gossamer silk “but you just aren't worth it.”
A muttered word, a flash of light, they were gone. You were alone on the cold stone, surrounded by nothing but darkness and echoes. Then you weren't any more.
May’Stra scooped you up in her arms. You could smell the blood on her, feel it moistening your skin as she held you against her bare bosom. “Are you alright, pet?” She held you close, heart racing “they didn't hurt you?”
You kept your head against her chest, feeling the cool greyish skin “I'm fine, mistress, they didn't hurt me”
A sigh of relief. “Good. Good, I'll have the guards on the lookout for them. And you.” May’Stra looked down, her black eyes fixing yours “I'm never letting you out of my sight again.”
The world spun, silk pulling in your limbs as she wrapped you in a fresh cocoon. Spinning around and around, her forelimbs dancing over your body. Delicately laying strand over strand, gently brushing over your swollen belly and round breasts. Stealing kisses whenever they strayed too close to your face.
You smiled, soft and warm in her webbing. Tied to her back, to be carried like a lapdog
So soft
So warm
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Well, that was meh. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to finish Snowcrash
Related to my tentative headcanon of Cecil being a subconscious reality nudger, I had a thought that he might have a compelling voice in the right circumstances, and the thought, it got away from me a little...
---
I'm afraid, dear listeners, that I return to you with some truly stomach churning news. I was finally able to use my phone during the weather, today, and return Carlos - sweet, perfect Carlos' calls. As it turns out, that disruption, down the block from the dog park but well past the Safety Perimeter put up recently? That, listeners, was Carlos attempting, NOBLY attempting his pursuit of Science and being violently rebuffed.
I know! Already, I am sure, you are recoiling in shock, but oh, it just gets worse the more details I receive!
It seems that Carlos had been surveying the area - I confess my incandescent rage made it a little hard to follow what Carlos said he was looking for, exactly, but he had his geiger counter with him, I know that much! - when his readings brought him to a house on the block. Setting his strong jaw in firm resolve, Carlos politely knocked upon the door, intending to ask permission to continue his pursuit of Science onto the property.
Now, I have always been perfectly certain that every single one of you loyal listeners, and any worthy citizen of Night Vale, would happily and with open arms allow Carlos into your homes to do what he does best, as we had all long ago allowed him into our hearts with equal hospitality and gladness. But, it seems, I was wrong, as there is at least one. Man. Who did not.
This man - and what bitterness does pool upon tongue to refer to him so flatteringly - glowered at Carlos, an act immediately revealing this man's utter deformity of soul, and told Carlos to - Oh, my teeth grind at the very memory- "Get the hell off" his property.
I wish this is where our tale ended, dear listeners, but I am afraid it is not.
Carlos was of course disappointed, and more than a little confused, the poor, dear man, and attempted to negotiate with the creature in the threshold, saying he need not go inside, he could simply walk around the house, harmlessly, taking readings as he went, if that was alright, he would barely even be noticed! And then this - this beast wearing the skin of a man, laid a hand on Carlos.
Oh, the pure vitriol - this was no neighborly pat on the shoulder, no, nor friendly handshake or perfectly reasonable but totally unforgivable impulse to touch a single lock of Carlos' beautiful hair, NO, listeners, what he did was shove Carlos! My Carlos! Perfect, never done a single ounce of harm to anyone, Carlos the scientist! Off the steps of his porch, crashing onto the hard, unforgiving pavement!
Carlos could only watch helplessly as his equipment was knocked from his hands on impact and broke upon the ground, small shards of glass sparkling forlornly in the light from damaged screens, plastic shattering like broken hearts, internal fixtures bursting and flying into unusable chaos...
Carlos has assured me that he merely received a few scrapes and bruises from his fall, and that the equipment has replacements, and I am glad, glad he did not have more harm done to him on this day. Though I'll believe the damage is as minor as he says when I see it.
But, dear listeners, I do not think I can, in good conscience, consider this to be where I let bygones be bygones! A nigh unthinkable crime has been committed today, and if there really exists someone so unrepentantly vile as to harm Carlos, well, I don't think such a threat can be allowed to walk the streets of our fair burg unchecked!
His name is Dansen Bradley. Danson. Bradley. We've all seen him, I'm sure, and to think we never suspected what evil lied in his heart.
Danson. Bradley. You have done something so intrinsically wrong it would not surprise me if existence itself began to rot around you in response to your unnatural actions.
Ah yes, unnatural actions... my mind wanders back to classical literature at that phrase, and settles upon something I think would be fitting for your unspeakable crime.
Now, this really is quite unlike me, at the end of the day I would wish harm upon no man - or woman! - but I think it is safe to say, Danson Bradley has ceased being worthy of such a label. Danson Bradley is no man.
Danson, can you hear me? I know you can.
Danson, here is what I would like you to do.
Find the two nearest thin, long, and preferably sharp objects you can. Pencils. Screwdrivers. Barbeque prongs. Knives. Whatever seems best, but do try to keep them the same length.
Take these two objects firmly in each hand, pointy side up, and jam them with as much force as possible into your eyes. If you miss, don't worry, you can try again!
Take your time, there's no rush. I can wait.
I will be sure to report on your condition... next time.
For now, to all the rest of you: look out at the darkness. However little you can see, and whatever it is you know is hiding within, beyond your range of vision, rejoice, nonetheless, that you are seeing! And will see once more, the sky tinged with the light of dawn! Rejoice, knowing you can look upon the face of the one you love, and feel them look back. Rejoice in your gift of sight, sweet listeners, for if it were to be taken form you, you would miss it more than you can imagine.
