spidermom
A while back, someone asked me about spidermom- if she talked. How I knew to feed her trolls.
Well, she didn’t talk. None of the lusus did as I recall, with the possible exception of Feferi’s who was even more fucking terrifying than mine.
Its going to sound awful but it was a bit ‘little shop of horrors’. I didn’t start out feeding her trolls. I started with wildlife. Little rodentbeasts and things. She ate them for a while, when I was really small, but she started turning her nose up. As I got older, I’d have to bring her bigger and bigger prey- or she’d just turn her nose up and leave it sitting there.
Every time I came down to see something I’d left for her uneaten was a jab of fear. If she starved herself to death- and I knew she could- I’d be culled for not having a lusus.
When I brought her the first corpse, it wasn’t even someone I had killed. Just some corpse I had dragged back to the hive. I was small. It was a hell of an effort.
I remember hoping she wouldn’t eat it, and hoping she would. I remembered the great gnawing ball of certainty that settled in my body when I came back and it was gone.
Spidermom was never a mom to me. She was a terrible, terrifying obligation.
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