A Moth to Flame Pt.1 [M4F] [READ TW] [Spicy] [Dominant] [Teasing] [Sadodere Drider x Injured Moth Person]

Transcript

Oh, what has the misfortune to find themself in my way? Oh no, don't struggle my pet, you'll hurt yourself in those pretty, pretty wings. Oh no, unfurling those wings at me? Oh, you moth babies are so, so cute, so twitchy and reactionary, and you even manage to blind yourself in your struggle.

Oh goodness. Ah, ah, ah, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. Yes, I have a arm slip during a spider web, my dear, and I am the spider.

Oh, don't fret too much. I'm not your standard rider, lovely. I'm a bit more, uh, arachnophobia friendly.

Here, see for yourself. Hmm. Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm.

There we are. Oh, the look you're giving me. Fear? Intrigue? A little lust, perhaps? Hmm, you're one of those kinds of mutt, hmm? Did you zip into my study tonight because of my pretty little eye trap, or because you were fascinated by the tales of the half-rider that supposedly drags in mutts, butterflies, and other non-apex insects to do, uh, well, heaven knows what?

Do I eat them? Perhaps do I torture them? Hmm.

Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm. Hmm. Let's get a look at you, my fuzzy little siren.

Oh. Oh, you're so vibrantly colored. Not poisonous, no, no.

A rosy self-mutt aspect, are you? How cute. I always love how indignant your kind looks.

Flapping those tiny wings, antenna bobbing about. You lot only seem to have that, uh, little man syndrome condition. Oh, oh no, Mr.

Triter. Please don't eat me. Oh, please, I don't want to be liquefied.

Oh, careful, darling. All that struggling and writhing is going to trigger my predator instincts, and if you're foolish enough to twist around and show me your back, I'll simply have to eat you. It is in my nature, after all.

Why do I not look like other triters? Well, I am a halfling of sorts. Half triter, half elf.

I inherited my mother's elven beauty and frame, and my father's, uh, well, andropodden tendency. Well, I assume as much. I was largely left to myself after they both passed.

Oh, no, no, no, no. I feared they were violently killed for their love when I was quite young. Or did they? Ah, you're such a cute one, about to potentially be devoured by sadistic triter in a dark castle where no one will ever find you, and you gently apologize for my suffering.

And you gently apologize for my suffering. You're so. ..

Oh? What is this? Oh-ho.

Sensitive laneslip? Oh, I'll remember that. But for now, let me look.

Hmm. You have a hole in this wing. No wonder you fumbled your way into my web, darling.

You're not an idiot, oh no. You're just injured. And perhaps a little kinky, hmm? Well, I can't let you go out into a big, scary world injured, can I? Don't be especially rude of me, especially as a doctor.

Oh, darling, I've been alive for a long time. Oh, darling, I've been alive for a long time. I think my mother might have been a vampire.

Pish posh, who cares? Any time I try and open myself up to take a look, I get to my ribcage before I think, Ashton, you fool. You don't know what a vampire looks like being dissected.

Silly goose. Then I have to suit myself up again while trying not to giggle. Terribly difficult.

I think I still have a scalpel in there somewhere. There it is. I should probably do something about that, but you're so much more interesting than my very alien anatomy.

Please don't hurt you. No. You are a treat, my dear.

Oh, my darling little Rosie. Why would you say such hurtful things? True, true.

I have been very intimidating this entire time, love. I am a spider, after all. A spider vampire.

Potentially, my entire aesthetic is intimidation, after all. There are bigger predators, always, and it is in my interest to appear scary. But with you, well, honestly, it's just fun to see you shake those little knees locked together like I might do something ungentlemanly.

Are you scared? Or expected? Oh, you precious pink and yellow little puff of fuzz.

Yes, yes, yes, I am scary. Very, very scary. Maybe even a little deranged.

But I can be reasoned with. Out there, in the forests and skies, with nature as your only lover. Well, that is truly an abusive romance, isn't it? Think, you can be out there minding your own business, falling in love, dancing, seeking your purpose.

And then, what? A harpy swoops down and tears your innards while you try desperately to save your own life. Every instinct in you struggling, screaming in agony, while the harpy has his meal.

He doesn't care for your pain. He has to eat, after all. Nature is a psychopath.

It cannot be reasoned with. It has no respect for our lives. You think being out there is freedom, yes? You came here because you were curious.