#undertale flufftober

Prompt: Embarrassing Secret

Pairing: Lustberry (UL!SansxUS!Sans)

Category: Platonic

Note: There is an instance of unwelcome grabbing and some suggestive language, but nothing too serious.

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Lust turned heads everywhere he went. Literally. The moment he stepped into the cozy little coffee shop every single set of eyes sought him out, with some folks craning their necks dramatically just to get a view of him. Lust wondered if maybe this crowd had never seen a skeleton in leather skinny jeans, a crop top, and a neon blue fur lined vest before. Maybe they hadn't, but that didn't excuse the lip-licking and mental-undressing that followed him to the table where his companion sat.

Blue smiled at his friend, passing over an iced coffee with entirely too many toppings and a plate with a little square of gooey butter cake and a fork sitting on it. Lust’s face lit up as he dropped into the seat across from the other skeleton who knew him well enough to have his favorite order memorized and waiting for him. 

"have i told you lately how much i love our little get-togethers?" Lust cooed. Honestly, who better for a skeleton with multiverse issues to befriend than another skeleton with multiverse issues?

"TALKING TO THE PASTRY AGAIN?" Blue quipped, making his friend snort into his beverage. Not everyone got to see this saucy side of Blue, and Lust cherished it.

"don't make me snort, blue. it's so not sexy." Lust restored his diminished sexiness by licking whipped cream from the top of his drink.

"YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO A BIT MORE SNORTING THEN. THAT TABLE LOOKS LIKE THEY'RE ABOUT TO START THROWING DOLLAR BILLS."

Blue pointed to a table of giggling humans. Lust averted his eyes, hoping to discourage the increasingly crude gestures that the humans were making at him. No sense in letting them embarrass themselves for nothing. He certainly wasn’t interested, but he played it cool with a casual shrug.

"i don't mind as long as they don't get handsy. some of these humans think that just because someone is comfortable with sexuality they can help themselves."

"AT LEAST PEOPLE DON’T THINK YOU'RE AN UWU BABY WHO'S NEVER HEARD OF SEX BEFORE! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHARM MATURE LADIES WHEN THEY THINK I'M A KID?" Blue grumbled. Lust leaned forward. Blue frequently complained about his baby face and the consequences of pairing it with his short stature, but he'd never mentioned his dating preferences before.

"mature women?"

"MILFS AND COUGARS, OBVIOUSLY." Blue sipped his coffee, completely serious. Lust barely held back another snort as Blue continued his lament. "THEY NEVER TAKE ME SERIOUSLY!"

Blue puffed out his cheeks in frustration just as a retiree shuffled past him with her senior coffee clutched close to her chest. She stopped short at the adorable sight before her squinty eyes.

"What a cutie you are," she crooned, reaching out to give one of Blue’s round cheeks a pinch.

Lust sensed impending disaster, so he grabbed Blue, dragging him towards the exit with a hand over his mouth. The last thing they needed was to get kicked out of another coffee shop for making a scene about inappropriate affection from well-meaning geriatrics. 

A human wolf-whistled at Lust as he passed, and he pointedly ignored them. The human decided it would somehow be acceptable to get attention by grabbing his pelvis instead. Lust’s heart-shaped eyelights vanished in an instant.

Lust slapped the human's hand away, loosening his grip on his friend enough for Blue to make his escape. Blue used his newfound freedom to leap onto the nearest table, knocking napkin holders and sugar packets flying right before shouting at the top of his voice:

"I FUCKED YOUR MOM AND YOUR GRANDMA!"

Well, they certainly wouldn't be having coffee here ever again…

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Prompt: Cuddling

Pairing: BloodLust

Category: Platonic

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Being in the Underlust universe always made Axe, the Sans from Horrortale, uncomfortable. The monsters, each of them unusually good-looking and flamboyantly dressed, stared openly at him in his worn, blood-stained hoodie with the jagged hole in his skull and whispered to each other behind their hands as soon as he passed them. He endured their stares and gossip resolutely; he wasn’t here for them anyway. He only came to this universe to visit its Sans.

The Sans in question paraded across the stage at Grillby’s club, waving his hipbones in an exaggerated manner in time with the thumping bass-heavy music and flirting with any monster within his line of sight. Midway through swinging around a pole using only his femurs to support himself, Axe managed to catch his twinkling, heart-shaped eyelights. Lust abandoned the pole and shimmied over, giving the hulking skeleton a sassy wink.

Placing his legs shoulder-width apart, Lust leaned down, tilting his coccyx towards the ceiling. Axe raised his browbones without saying a word. Petulant at the lack of reaction, Lust turned his elevated tailbone into a quick split, ending with his ribs pressed to the stage and his chin cupped innocently in his hands. Axe would never admit it, but he truly admired Lust’s unrelenting showmanship.

“What can I do for you, handsome,” purred Lust as the club’s other patrons grumbled at being ignored in favor of the disheveled skeleton. “The usual?”

“I wouldn’t come here for anything else,” rumbled Axe, playing up the flirtatious banter.

Lust swung his legs around, using the momentum to toss himself into Axe’s arms; the burly skeleton caught him easily and carried him, bridal-style, up the stairs to Grillby’s private rooms. The mood of the crowd had shifted, and monsters hooted and cheered, whispering amongst themselves about what the two skeletons might do together.

Once the door closed behind the two skeletons, Lust let out a gusty sigh and hopped out of Axe’s arms. The stocky skeleton shrugged his stained hoodie onto the floor, and his daintier counterpart took off his fur-lined vest and folded it neatly before placing it carefully on a chair. Axe tossed back the comforter on the bed, and gestured for Lust to climb in.

“After you.” He waited until Lust had made himself comfortable, then climbed into bed after him.

Lust relaxed against the larger skeleton’s body, allowing Axe to curl around him and sneak an arm around his waist. It always amazed him how such a terrifying monster could be so surprisingly gentle. Axe respected him, taking great care not to touch him inappropriately or roughly. That level of care refreshed Lust since so many monsters treated him like an object.

Lust’s sockets slowly closed as he nestled warmly in his small spoon position. Axe’s chin rested atop his skull, and when the big skeleton spoke, the words thrummed through his bones, as soothing as the sound of a gentle rain.

“You’re always so theatrical when I show up.” Axe let his sockets drift closed. After the violent struggle for survival in his own universe, the chance to do something as simple and peaceful as cuddling was the hottest commodity that the Lust universe could offer.

“I do spend most of my time on stage, you know,” Lust murmured drowsily, and Axe rewarded him with a loud chuckle like a big cat purring.

The pair of touch-starved skeletons, each with their own personal reasons for the intense need, stayed in their cuddle position for hours. They dozed or chatted about inane things like what stars might look like or whether it’s weird that rabbit monsters exist alongside pet rabbits. When they finally emerged, patrons of Grillby’s club would speculate wildly about their lengthy private session.

Axe and Lust would play to the crowd with innuendo while making furtive plans for their next cuddle session. Each skeleton faced his own struggles in his own universe, but the chance for physical comfort made the future something to look at with hope rather than despair.

And who knew? Maybe someday they would spoon on the Surface under the huge expanse of the sky with the brilliant array of the stars watching silently over them.

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Prompt: Cooking

Pairing: Dreamtale Skelebros x Reader

Category: Platonic

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“Apples?” you asked in a voice rife with skepticism. “You brought apples to our cooking lesson?”

The twin skeleton guardians of the Sacred Tree at least had the decency to appear appropriately chastised before they corrected you.

“These aren’t from our Tree,” Dream explained.

“We just thought it would be funny,” continued Night, looking a bit embarrassed at the premise of the joke now that it had fallen flat.

You sighed. “When life gives you apples, it’s time to make a pie, right?” Smiles lit up the skeletons’ faces- so similar, yet so different if you knew them well enough. Dream’s smiles were as bright as sunshine and as plentiful as seeds on a sunflower. Night smiled reluctantly, his emotions kept shadowed and guarded like the moon on a cloudy autumn night.

Neither of the brothers had many friends among the villagers, though most villagers found Dream appealing for his warm personality. Everyone focused so much on the Sacred Tree and its golden apples that they sometimes forgot that the guardians were people just like everyone else… well, not quite like everyone else, but close enough for you, at least. You had invited them over for a cooking lesson to help them feel included in at least one villager’s life.

The two skeletons placed their apples on your counter, and you frowned briefly before schooling your face to neutrality. The apples were two different types. You recognized Granny Smith apples right away from their unique color, and closer inspection of the other apples revealed stickers that read “Honeycrisp.” Not only were these apples of two different types, they had completely different textures and flavor profiles. You decided to peel them and chop them into small pieces instead of slices to disguise the inconsistency.

While you worked, you instructed the guardians to start on the pie dough.

You provided Dream and Night with a worn and well-loved recipe book that contained all of your favorite recipes with annotations for changes, tips, and results. You trusted the simple pie crust recipe that the book contained. Even beginning bakers like the skeleton twins should be able to follow the directions easily.

Should be.

You focused on peeling and chopping the apples, only half paying attention to the two skeletons. Dream and Night took turns measuring flour, adding cold water, and chopping up butter for their part of the recipe. The butter chopping became a friendly competition, and you didn’t even notice that before long, an entire pound of butter had found its way into the pie crust mixture. You did notice, however, the mention of eggs.

“Baking requires eggs,” Night explained to Dream, who had appointed himself leader of their foray into crust construction. You turned towards them just in time to see Night holding out a pair of eggs to Dream. Dream cracked the eggs into the pie crust mixture before you even had a chance to protest.

Pie crusts don’t use eggs at all, you wanted to tell them, but you also didn’t want to discourage their ambitious efforts, so you simply hoped that the crust could survive their misguided attempt at being expert chefs.

Once the pie crust mixture had been thoroughly mixed- and subsequently spilled several times due to overenthusiasm- you helped the twins press it into a floured pie pan. It actually looked passable despite the addition of eggs and a bit too much butter. It helped that both brothers had insisted on adding a handful flour to the pan. The abundance of flour absorbed the extra moisture.

Next, the apples needed to be seasoned with sugar, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg. You watched carefully as each skeleton sprinkled the correct amount of sugar over the apple pieces. Dream and Night struggled a bit with the spices though.

First, Dream added the cinnamon. Night was supposed to add the other two spices, but due to a mix up with the containers, he ended up adding even more cinnamon. In an attempt to assist his brother, Dream only succeeded in spilling a small mountain of nutmeg onto half of the apples. You scraped as much of it as you could off of the fruit, but you were pretty sure that this pie would become a freshly baked spice bomb.

Still determined to make this pie fiasco work, you helped the brothers cut the rest of the pie dough into strips so they could make a latticework top for their pie, something unnecessary and fancy that made both brothers bounce with excitement. You turned your attention to making an egg wash, delegating the weaving of the edible lattice to the two skeletons, a task which they settled into with the utmost concentration and excessive planning.

It was difficult to hold in your laughter as the pair squabbled good-naturedly over how the lattice should be woven. It may not have been the best-looking pie crust you’d seen, but the pride that Dream and Night clearly felt over their work made a few wayward strips of pie crust a nonissue.

A quick brush of egg wash and a sprinkling of sugar and the pie was officially ready for bake time. Thankfully your oven had an interior light so that the brothers could watch their creation bake without constantly opening the oven door and letting the heat escape. The sweet scent of apples and the tang of spices filled your home as the guardians of the Sacred Tree waited anxiously through the longest 2700 seconds of their lives for their pie to finish baking.

The moment of truth arrived: you removed the pie carefully from the oven, letting it rest for several more excruciatingly long minutes before carving three slices out of the steaming monstrosity and setting them on three small plates. You, Dream, and Night each picked up a spoon and lifted bites of the fragrant pie to your mouths in perfectly choreographed unison.

It tasted terrible. The crust lacked any sort of golden flakiness (thanks to the addition of eggs), the apples’ flavors somehow cancelled each other out creating a strange absence of apple taste, and the overabundance of cinnamon and nutmeg scorched your mouth and nose and made the entire thing difficult to swallow.

If the price of seeing the delight that shone on the guardians’ faces was choking down a slice of horrendous apple pie though, then every bite was worth it...

… but you insisted on letting them take home the leftovers.

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< Main Index

*Enjoy 31 days of fluff. You can check out the prompt list and image here. All Flufftober stories are guaranteed to tug your heartstrings and are 100% smut-free. Each day lists the prompt and pairing:

Prompt: Clothes

Pairing: Swapfell Skelebros

Category: Familial

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Mutt avoided laundry day for this exact reason. After realizing that his beloved jacket thoroughly reeked of smoke, barbecue sauce, and unwashed bones, he’d washed it, only for it to turn up missing. Good jackets were hard to find, especially ones with the big fluffy hoods that he preferred. This one had even been embroidered with a Gaster blaster silhouette across the back (courtesy of spider monster and local entrepreneur, Muffet), and now it was gone!

He doubted that he’d find another jacket in his size and style at the Dump, but walking around in his tank top and jeans left Mutt feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable. He needed the bulk of the jacket to comfort him and add some intimidation to his look to keep other, more powerful monsters away. He couldn’t risk being injured with a babybones brother to take care of.

Speaking (or rather thinking) of little Blackberry- a name based entirely on his roundness and magic color… where had the stripes-clad little stinker run off to?

Mutt’s search for his jacket became a search for the wayward babybones. Blackberry had a knack for getting into trouble, and brothers couldn’t be scavenged for at the Dump. Mutt rushed through the interconnected caves that comprised their personal fortress until he heard the boisterous sound of Blackberry’s voice. For a tiny little guy, the babybones sure spoke loudly!

When Mutt finally stumbled upon the cave where his brother was playing, he found the cutest sight that his eyelights could ever hope to behold: Blackberry was wearing his jacket, and it was quite a few sizes too big. Black’s stubby arms barely reached the elbows, and the overhanging sleeves flopped adorably as he gestured. The hem of the jacket dragged along the cave floor, and Black occasionally tripped over it.

One of Black’s stuffed animals, a bunny with one drooping ear, sat propped against a rock; several other stuffed animals that Mutt had collected for his brother over the course of his garbage scavenging trips surrounded the bunny.

“DON’T WOWWY, BWACKBEWWY!” bellowed the babybones in what Mutt assumed was meant to me an imitation of his voice. “YOUW BIG BWOTHER IS HEWE TO SAVE YOU!”

Careful to remain unseen, Mutt took his precious cell phone- a gift from his sometimes benefactor Muffet- out of his pocket and hit the button to record a video.

“THEY’WE TOO STWONG!” cried Blackberry, bouncing his bunny doll in time with the words as if the doll itself was speaking in the falsetto that Black used for his own voice.

“NOBODY’S TOO STWONG FOW THE GWEAT PAPYWUS! WHAM! POW! YOU’WE BWOO NOW! TIME FOR MY GASTER BWASTER ATTACK!” Blackberry responded, using his “Papywus” voice again. He then proceeded to make kicking, punching, and karate chopping gestures at the other plush toys, knocking them over one by one and providing extremely inaccurate sound effects and exaggerated cries for “mewcy.”

“YOU’WE MY HEWO!” declared the stuffed bunny version of Blackberry as the real Blackberry accepted a hug from the doll.

“I’M NO HEWO,” answered the Mutt-voice, “I’M JUST THE GWEATEST BIG BWOTHER EVER!”

Wiping tears from the corners of his sockets, Mutt saved the video then swooped down on his doppelganger to pull him into a tight hug, jacket theft completely forgotten. Years later, when life looked bleak and tough situations pushed him to the edge of falling down, he would take out his phone and watch that video. It reminded him that he had something to look forward to each and every day: his brother, Blackberry.

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Prompt: Finding/Adopting a Pet

Pairing: Underfell Skelebros

Category: Familial

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The skeleton brothers from the Underfell universe didn’t need reasons to argue. Their antagonistic brotherly relationship transcended their life in the Underground, following them to their new home on the Surface. Most of the pointless altercations ended with Red storming out of the house, door slamming behind him on his way to Grillby’s. By the time he stumbled back home in the wee hours of the morning, the animosity had faded away into mild worry on Edge’s part over his brother’s whereabouts.

Scoldings over his trips to Grillby’s comprised a rather large percentage of the argument fodder, and unfortunately, when Red opened the door that day to storm out to his favorite haunt, Doomfanger darted out before either skeleton could stop her. The little white streak vanished into the hedges that bordered the driveway, and the brothers stood slack-jawed in the wake of her escape.

The shocked silence didn’t last long.

Without missing a beat, Edge berated Red while simultaneously shoving him out of the way to pursue his wayward cat. Edge almost knocked Red off his feet in his hurry to find her, and a string of insults slowly faded into a murmur then to silence as the distance between the brothers increased. Red took a seat on the front steps and closed the door behind him, opting to await Doomfanger’s possible return instead of going to Grillby’s. As much as he hated to admit it, he cared about his brother’s cat… and his brother.

Hours passed, and when Edge finally returned to the house that he shared with Red, he appeared dejected. Doomfanger wasn’t with him. Guilt washed over Red, especially when Edge just glanced at him, too fatigued from his search to even toss a casual insult his brother’s way. At that moment Red vowed that he would not rest until they found Doomfanger… after a good night’s sleep of course.

The next day, the two skeletons scoured the neighborhood, showing everyone they passed one of the abundance of photos of Doomfanger that each of them had on his phone. She happened to be a very photogenic cat and adored the glamor and attention of a photo shoot.

Nobody had seen her, but one helpful neighbor from a nearby apartment complex asked them if they had checked the local animal shelter. Stray cats who were friendly enough to be caught by Animal Control were taken there to either await pick-up by their owners or find new ones through the adoption process. Red and Edge locked eyelights, silently agreeing to check the shelter for Doomfanger.

Never one to simply walk through the front door of a public building, Edge organized a two-skeleton recon mission that involved Red crouching in front of each of the animal shelter’s windows while Edge stood on his back to peer inside. Sure enough, one of the windows yielded results. There could be no mistaking that gleaming white fur and delicate pink nose! Doomfanger sat in her crate, peering down her elegant nose at the other scruffy cats around her.

“HUMAN LAW ENFORCEMENT HAS ARRESTED MY PRECIOUS DOOMFANGER! WE MUST INITIATE A JAILBREAK AT ONCE!” growled Edge, leaping to the ground and immediately sketching out rough, elaborate plans into the dirt underneath the window.

“i think you can just go in and claim her,” Red pointed out, but Edge ignored him, tapping his mandible with the stick he was using to create a layout of the building. Red assumed the acorn and leaf on the diagram were meant to represent them, and the twig “X” was probably Doomfanger.

Edge scanned the surrounding area. “THAT SHRUB COULD HIDE THE ENTRANCE OF THE TUNNEL…” he mumbled to himself. Red sighed and wandered around the side of the building to execute his own, much less involved, plan.

Edge was still mulling over the necessity of drugging the guard when Red returned, cat carrier in hand. Doomfanger let out a disgruntled meow at being shuttled around in such an undignified manner.

“HOW DID YOU RESCUE HER?” Edge asked, leaning over to coo at his beloved pet through the grating at the front of the carrier. Red noticed, but did not mention, the sparkle that appeared in Edge’s eyelights when he baby talked to his cat. “DID YOU FEIGN INJURY TO DISTRACT THE GUARD?”

“no, Boss,” replied Red. “i went in and asked for her. they even loaned me this carrier so we could take her home.”

Edge snorted. “I SUPPOSE THAT’S ONE WAY TO DO THINGS,” he grumbled, scuffing out his carefully drawn strategies with the toe of one boot. He paused as if gathering the mental resolve to deliver his next words. “EXCELLENT WORK, SANS.”

Red basked in the praise. The skeleton brothers did not need a reason to argue, but all of their contentious bickering simply served as a disguise for emotions that they struggled to express. No, they didn’t need a reason to argue, but they were working on finding more reasons to encourage and agree.

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Prompt: Carrying

Pairing: King (UF!Papyrus lamia) x Krait (Gaster lamia)

Category: Romantic

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From the moment the newly hatched Krait tumbled out of his shell into the big wide world, the young full-sized King who observed the hatching adored him. Edgar saw the look of affection in the King’s eyes and initially mistook it for that joyful glimmer that he himself felt at seeing any baby creature, but this was different. The King knew that he and the baby Krait were meant to be together always.

Swiftly, the King scooped the Krait into his arms, holding the hatchling close and letting him feel the beat of the bigger lamia’s SOUL. When the King passed the Krait to the nursery caretaker for his first bottle feeding, the hatchling beeped and peeped frantically until Edgar returned him to the King’s arms. The Krait quieted instantly, and from that moment forward, the pair were inseparable.

The King fashioned his scarf into a sling to carry his small friend around in. The Krait, a full-sized lamia himself, grew quickly under the King’s painstaking care. The King fed him until he was old enough that the pair could simply share meals in companionable silence. He preferred to bathe with the King nearby, allowing his friend to dry him off before he returned to his sling. Each night, he fell asleep listening to the gentle thrum of the King’s SOUL.

The King stayed in the nursery well past the time that he should have moved out into the adoption area. He had no intentions of leaving his friend behind. Once the Krait reached young adulthood, they moved to a nest in the shop together. The nest bordered the King nesting area yet was in close proximity to the Krait pools- the best of both worlds!

Though many guests at the shop petted and cuddled the Krait during their visits, he never attempted to stow away in any of their backpacks, purses, or clothing. His bondmate wouldn’t fit in any of the available spaces, and the Krait had no intention of leaving the King behind just as the King had once refused to leave the nursery without him. For his part, the King opted not to participate in displays for potential adopters either. Unless they wanted a Krait, the King just wasn’t interested.

The pair of lamias were in no rush to find a permanent home outside of the shop. They refused to be separated, and if that meant waiting longer (or even forever) for the right adopter, it didn’t bother them as long as they were together. 

Days blended into weeks, and weeks became months. Months eventually accumulated into years, and still the two lamias lived their happy lives in their shared nest in the shop. A potential adopter entered the shop one day while the bondmates lounged next to the Krait pools. The King watched the Krait perform the same type of acrobatics that had won him over during their bonding display. The sight of his bondmate in a Krait’s natural element always brought a smile to his face. The smile widened when he overheard the conversation between the adopter and Vex, the shopkeeper.

“- looking for a Krait and a King. I know it’s an unusual combination, but I think that they would be perfect for me,” the person explained to Vex. The Krait slithered out of the play pool. He’d heard the words King and Krait spoken together too. The King quickly dried the Krait off with a fluffy towel and tucked him into his carrying pouch. The pair snuck closer to the front desk, where Vex asked the adopter a few questions.

Vex spotted the pair and gave them a barely perceptible nod to let them know that she approved of this adopter. Poking his head out of his pouch, the Krait pointed to the satchel sitting on the ground next to the visitor. It seemed like an ideal place to stow away… except that the King would never fit! The bondmates hissed quietly to each other, discussing their stowing away strategy.

Vex continued to distract the adopter while the lamias made plans. In the end, the King decided to wedge himself into the satchel as best he could. It didn’t turn out well. The King could only get the bag over his head and one shoulder, and Vex was running out of ways to keep the person’s attention on her. The Krait bounced up and down on the King, trying to squash him further into the satchel to no avail.

Vex waved her arms wildly as the person turned, just in time to see a King thoroughly stuck in their satchel, one arm contorted above his head to fit inside and the strap snagged on his other arm. A Krait perched atop the King’s head, sockets wide in shock at being caught in the middle of stowing away.

Covering their mouth to hide their laughter, the adopter extricated the King from the satchel. The King and his bondmate looked crestfallen, so the adopter made a quick suggestion: “I have a wagon outside that you’d both fit into. I can wander around the shop for a bit while you sort yourselves out, and I promise not to look in the wagon until I get home.”

Vex watched out the window as the lamia bondmates shifted blankets around in the wagon to hide themselves while their new owner filled out the adoption paperwork. As the Krait snuggled up against his bondmate, a thought occurred to both of them. If their new adopter allowed it and they felt comfortable in their new home, the Krait might soon be doing some carrying of his own...

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Prompt: Celebration

Pairing: Lamia Bitty Kustard

Category: Familial

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Every lamia bitty’s life starts out as a celebration. As the hatchling lamia opens his sockets onto the world for the first time, he is greeted by the proud face of a doting parent, an awestruck adopter’s muted gasp, or Edgar’s welcoming smile. From that point on, a lamia’s life is full of milestones to celebrate from his first practice pounce onto real or imaginary prey to a transition to adulthood where he begins a life of his own.

At the Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center, these celebrations are shared by Edgar, the nursery caretaker and the rest of the bitty shop staff. Edgar has his own private collection of mangled plush toys that his ferocious hatchlings have dispatched and presented to him. The owl-skeleton hybrid does tend to tear up and sniffle just a bit when he congratulates his hatchling on their graduation from the nursery to the nesting areas of the shop. It’s hard to see his little hatchlings all grown up.

The next event to celebrate is a lamia’s adoption day. Each lamia waits for that oh-so-perfect owner to enter the shop, notice him, and fall in love. Lamias daydream of what their lives will be like in these new, special homes, and being chosen is, according to the lamia themselves, one of the best feelings in the world. Even their hatching dates pale in comparison to the annual celebration of their adoption day.

The rest of a lamia’s life may contain small celebrations, large celebrations, or no additional celebrations at all. Sometimes a lamia simply craves a life of quiet contentment, like a Corny and a Coral who have found themselves a home together. The pair of lamia roommates thought that their life would be smooth and uneventful until certain feelings began to blossom between them. 

Surely the stages of bonding are something to celebrate once completed?

Especially the final stage of bonding when a Coral and a Corny officially become lifelong mates and their totally-not-crying adopter throws rice on them in some strange human tradition that both bewilders and delights them.

In the days that follow, the two lamias scour the house, searching out a quiet corner for a secluded nesting space. Their adopter helps them set it all up- their own private nursery, hidden away in an unused closet. By the time the nursery preparations are complete, the Coral’s tummy already shows the distinct roundness of eggs.

A few short weeks later, the three true eggs rock and wobble, hairline cracks spider-webbing across their surfaces. The expectant lamia parents lean forward, sockets wide with wonder as the first uncoordinated hatchling flops out of his shell, blinking up at the bright new world. His two brothers follow close behind, emerging from their shells with much more fanfare than finesse.

The adopter watches from a respectful distance as the brand new lamia parents complete the circle of celebration by welcoming their three beautiful new hatchlings into the world.

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