Chapter Text
(As a brief preface, these chapters were originally written as short drabbles in a private discord, and for the sake of readability I will be editing and posting them here in the order in which they were created. As needed, I will elaborate roughly when each drabble takes place on the timeline of this continuity so to speak. This drabble serves as my initial exploration of how these two interact, and for the purposes here act as the audience's introduction to the characters, not each other.)
"Jerry! Jerold." A melodic synthetic voice calls as they scan the horizon.
However, before the owner can approach, the shadowy figure they were addressing disappears in a cloud of miasma. A dainty pale hand without fingernails fans away the smoke, which connects to a similarly slim and elegant figure. At first glance, they seem almost human, but too perfect to be so, with nary a flaw on their alabaster form that has a faint silver glow in the light of the afternoon sun. They would be the picture of androgynous beauty, if not for the fact that their head was severed and floating above their own torso.
Their cycloptic sanguine eye narrowed, LUNE lets out a scoff of disgust.
"I don't get you. You always want my attention, but instant you have it you get all squirrely on me. That's really rude."
As per usual, they don't get a response, and their irritation builds when they suspect that their personal stalker arachnid didn't stick around to listen to them at all. That's nothing new, however, and they quickly brush it off. Reaching into their metaphysical inventory, they pull out their guide on engineering. "Coal coke ovens, check, alloy furnace, check, windmill-" They look up to see the glorified wooden tower equipped with enough sails to be spinning surely, "check. And the steel is cooking, so I should be good to go soon. But where am I gonna get the blueprints?" They idly tap their foot as they think, momentarily oblivious to the outside world.
"Buehoo hriehntsss?"
LUNE pays little mind to the rasping voice just over their shoulder, but they don't look, knowing that would make the arachnid startle. "You wouldn't know how to manufacture firearms, would you?" They ask jokingly. Their only response is the feeling of eyes boring holes into the back of their head.
"If you wanted to be nice, you could get me some. Or gunpowder. Gunpowder, it's a powder, drops from those ugly green plant looking guys. Pretty please?"
"Pweease?"
LUNE giggles at that as they lift their hand to their blood red maw. "With sugar and gumdrops on top. I need it to make swiss cheese out of that damn bug that knocked me into lava the other week. You know, the real ugly one. Like a spider and a butterfly had a one night stand and the kid got left in the gutter." They glance over their shoulder, and their stalker tenses and leans back, but doesn't flee just yet. They know better than to keep their gaze on it for too long however.
"I've thrown you so much chicken, you owe me some anyways. And you still owe me for killing my whole flock too, you hog." They jab, but there's no real weight behind their words. They expected such to happen anyhow considering how blatantly predatory and poorly behaved "Jerry" is.
"Hog."
"Oh hey, you can pronounce that. Neato." They reply good naturedly, counting themself lucky that "Jerry" is so chatty today. "Yeah, I don't mind presents, but I want them to be useful. I can make more than enough food for myself. And my food doesn't make me want to throw up!" They say cheerfully.
Of course, they have no expectation for "Jerry" to actually understand a word they said, only their tone of voice. That's usually a safe assumption, but what goes against assumption is the feeling of haggard breathing against their neck.
"You got five seconds to back up before I slap you." LUNE states flatly, and, for once, the creature seems to get the gist of what they're saying and backs away. Or maybe it's just its nerves being convenient for once.
"Thank you. Now, vengeance. That's the name of the game today Jerbear. I'm not going to stop until I get it." LUNE says with a cruel laugh before striding forwards. With their bare hands, they reach into their furnace to grab red hot metal before tossing it into a nearby pool of water to quench. Sure, third degree burns hurt, but LUNE doesn't recoil. However, the spider sure does.
Within a matter of seconds, their blistered and scorched hands heal themselves, with LUNE idly humming while they wait for their body to regenerate. "That's what I mean about my food being great, Jerry. If you ate it other than that slop you love bringing me you'd probably be way healthier. Hahah."
A low chuffing sound is heard to LUNE's left in response, and just to mess with it, they rotate their eye socket a full 90 degrees and stick their bleeding tongue out at its blank expression. "Just messing. You're the unluckiest fella I know."
Now that their skin has regrown, they reach into their inventory and toss a whole unseasoned cooked chicken at the spider before it's able to run off, which it does in short order.
...
What gives it the most doubts, is how its person looks. Now that it's got a proper look at them, it knows for a fact that something is wrong. Not wrong like it, they only ever have four limbs it's seen, their skin is soft and pretty, and they can walk and talk right, but, a person's face does not look like that. Does not move like that. Does not bleed near constantly like that.
But when they're asleep, then, then it's the most convinced that they're human. That they're Its human. Their features settle into something soft, peaceful, with cupid's bow lips and their snow white bangs shrouding their brow as they're lost in slumber. Not just any human either, but The Man In the Moon, who came down so soon because they heard it wailing for someone, anyone. Or maybe its tired kaleidoscope eyes are playing tricks on it, it's not sure sometimes. But right now it's sure it hears them talking in their sleep, ever so chatty. This gives it lot to practice with though, so it's thankful, even if it wishes they'd speak more slowly.
"I'm sorry." Is what they mumble the most on nights like these, and that's a phrase its almost got the pronunciation down on, it's sure.
"I'm sssorreh. Sssorrehhh."
Its person curls up in on themself, their arms wrapping around their torso more times than even its 10 arms can embrace itself. It wonders, would they wake up if it hugged them too? Maybe then they'd stop shaking. It's worth a shot, at least.
So the spider descends to its knees. Its person's bed is far, far too small to fit it, let alone the both of them, but that doesn't stop it from leaning over to embrace them the best it can. It-they need this.
Like always, the initial feeling of touching them is electrifying. It can feel the ruff around its neck reflexively stand on end, but then smooth out as everything slowly fades into a soothing, sweet warmth that quiets the nervous maelstrom its thoughts so often are. It's never felt this overwhelming calm before, and it's all the spider can to try to not forget what the initial point of this exercise was to begin with.
Their lovely scent filling its lungs doesn't help matters, (just like ripe strawberries!), and it knows from experience that they taste just as-No. No. It shakes its head and bites its own tongue instead of taking a chunk out of them to try to regain focus. No no, its dear person is having a nightmare, and it wants to help! To make them feel safe, and cared for, and this same sticky sugary good that's making its head swim-
Surely, surely, Its Person has to feel the same, or at least they would be if they weren't having such a bad dream. Poor, sweet dear, the spider squeezes its arms around their torso, drawing them in closer and pressing its face into the nape of their neck.
To its immense joy, unlike the spider, they have a heartbeat in their chest! It's a strong and steady humming, like the clear tone of a wind chime. Out of sheer affection for the noise, the spider attempts to imitate the sound with its mouth as it turns its head to the side to hear better. It takes a few attempts to nail, but it's a much easier feat than speaking at least. The fact it can chime along brings it no small amount of happiness.
This is...wonderful. It can't remember the last time it's been so happy and content, save perhaps the fleeting instance it had them in its grasp for the first time. But this is so much better, because Its Person isn't struggling. No, no, instead, their breath is slowing, their muffled cries subside, and they slip back into a deeper sleep. Because this is where they belong, here in its arms.
Even if they don't fully know it yet, they have to on some level, deep down. Why else would this feel so right? Why else would their angelic face be so peaceful in its embrace?
Silently, the spider prays that someday soon, they listen to what their heart must be saying.
...
Later, when LUNE awakens, the first thing they do is curl their lip in disgust and ask,
"Ugh, why do I smell like shit?"