#mamba bittybones

[vex-bittys]

Adoption for thepudulover

(For some reason Tumblr decided to eat your ask as I was looking at it @thepudulover​. Thankfully, I remember what lamias you wanted.)

*Mambas are listed in the shop directory as the most difficult of the lamias to care for. They can be ornery, demanding, and extremely dramatic. Add deadly venom to the mix, and you have a lamia that not everyone can handle. You aren’t everyone though. You’re you, and you’ve decided to adopt a Mamba (and a Chain to keep him calm, and a Honey Bo because, well, Honey Bo!).

*Needless to say, you’re heading for the Mambas nesting area first. Since the Mamba will be the pickiest of the three lamias that you want to adopt, you will need to find one who has a Chain friend and is willing to tolerate a Honey Bo. When you arrive at the nesting area, you find an interesting sight before you. There is a Honey Bo already there! He appears to be DJing... a dance lesson?

*A very grumpy-looking Mamba and a relaxed-looking Chain are attempting some sort of complex classical dance style. The Mamba insists on leading, but he doesn’t know the dance. He’s clearly becoming frustrated; you can tell by the occasional angry screech that leaves him. He’s especially irate because the Honey Bo is clearly trying not to laugh as he falls flat on his face again. The Chain, ever patient with his little lamia brother, helps the Mamba back up.

*The Chain refocuses the Mamba’s miniscule rage, demonstrating the movements again, moving slowly and deliberately. The Honey Bo has set the music on auto-play now and is dozing off at his “DJ station,” which is an MP3 player attached to a small speaker. The Mamba and the Chain pair up again. The Chain is holding a tiny silk rose between his fangs, and he subtly corrects the Mamba into the proper movements. At long last, they complete the steps, and the Chain nudges the Mamba to take a bow, pointing at you. You applaud and grab one of the bitty-sized silk roses to toss to the Mamba.

*The Mamba slithers over to the Honey Bo and prods him awake, then leads the Honey Bo (dragging his MP3 player and speaker) and the Chain over to you. The Mamba points to himself and his two companions then to you. “Adopt!” he demands regally, and you hold back your chuckle as you comply. Yup, Mambas are definitely bossy.

[vex-bittys]

"Not a question, but- I have visited your shop and honestly Mambas left an impression on me. Their beautiful vivid scales and charisma are very very unique and captivating. So, yeah, just tell them to keep it up! Also... they do like sour things, right?" - Anon leaves five boxes of mini lemon tarts. Each box is colourful and tied with pretty ribbon to match. - "This way they don't have to share and everyone will take a bite!"

*The Mambas primp and preen as Vex reads your words to them. Of course they would leave an impression, especially on someone who noticed and appreciated their beautiful and vivid scales! Unique? Of course they are! Captivating? Never doubted it! Keep it up? They never intended to stop being their fabulous selves! Egos? Heavily inflated!

*The curious Mambas approach the boxes with the lemon tarts. You were clearly extremely thoughtful in your choices because each Mamba has his own lemon tart to eat. No sharing. The tarts are a perfect balance of sweet and tart, and the Mambas savor them. Once the tarts are gone though, the gift keeps on giving.

*The boxes have pretty ribbons on them in a variety of colors, and Mambas love accessories! Each Mamba finds his perfect ribbon, tying them into headbands, sashes, and belts. It seems they are going to have a Mamba ribbon fashion show in your honor!

[vex-bittys]

Tit for Tat: A Mamba Drabble

NOTE: This story involves a reader with breasts. There is no adult content.

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Since the dawn of time, those of us whose chests have been crowned with breasts have faced a common and unrelenting enemy: gravity. Through our long and storied history, mankind has waged an unending battle against this foul nemesis of breasts, but we succeed only in awakening a slumbering beast and exchanging one adversary for another. 

Bearing the shield, sword, and armor of underwires, padding, and lace we press forward only to find that our age-old enemy has been joined by a merciless ally: hellish discomfort. In seeking the perfect mixture of ideal fit and adequate lift for our breasts, we can only choose which wicked villain deals the final, murderous blow: lack of proper support or lack of even a modicum of comfort.

All is not lost, claims an unasked-for advertisement that you scroll past the first ten or eleven times without a second glance. Finally, the message sinks in. There is a new brassiere design, one that promises that all-important breast support and may very well be (according to the company that sells it) the most comfortable article of clothing you’ve ever worn in your life. You can’t add it to the cart fast enough, sparing a regretful glance for your trusty old bra which has by now become a decrepit shadow of what it once was.

Good-bye, Old Faithful. Hello, new Wonderbra.

When the package arrived, you couldn’t wait to experience the long-anticipated bliss of the perfect bra. By the end of the day though, regret had finished burying bliss’s cold, dead body in the box your “perfect” bra had come in. In an attempt to be both comfortable and supportive, the brassiere in question had failed miserably at both. 

“This stupid thing is killing me,” you grumbled, fumbling with a ridiculous clasp system, too preoccupied with escaping the titty torture device to give your miniature Mamba his after-work scritches. You couldn’t get the damn thing off fast enough, rubbing red spots on your shoulders and chest as you donned your softest pajamas. When you finally turned your attention to your lamia bitty, it took you a few moments to find him.

Two small pinpricks of purple light glowed from underneath your bed. Your Mamba’s eyelights were locked on the offending piece of clothing laying discarded in the middle of the floor. He must have heard your complaint and taken the words seriously (unsurprisingly… he is a Mamba, after all). Suddenly, a shimmering purple streak burst from cover with a mighty (but also adorably tiny) roar. The Mamba pounced onto the bra, tussling with the undergarment until he’d wrestled it into submission. Growling and chomping at one cup of the bra, he lashed his little tail until he felt satisfied that the bra was well and truly dead and your near-fatal discomfort appropriately avenged.

The mighty hunter and defender of your honor dragged his vanquished enemy over to you, puffing his chest out while you thanked him for saving the day. At least the fang-holes in the bra would keep the retailer from putting it back on the shelf, you reasoned. Lifting the mighty Mamba onto the computer desk so that he could revel in your attention and praise, you submitted a return ticket full of choice words to describe the bra.

After clicking submit, you couldn’t help scanning the internet for a better bra. Unfortunately, high quality bras demanded high prices. You found a website with custom sizing and options, and against your better judgment, you went through the process of selecting a bra that would be perfect for your specific body type. You added it to the website’s cart to check the price and groaned. You hated the thought of spending so much money on yourself. It looked like you would be making amends with Old Faithful after all.

Before you had a chance to close the browser window in favor of a scroll through social media, your Mamba lifted himself up to press himself against the computer screen, getting good and close to check out the image of the bra you’d selected. “Good,” he finally declared, tapping the screen.

“Yeah, it’s good, but I don’t want to spend that much money,” you told him, showing him the hefty price tag. To your surprise, he huffed indignantly.

Pointing to his luxurious nest with its pile of soft cushions and canopy of tulle and fairy lights, he said: “Nice for me.” His tiny skeletal finger swung around to point at his wardrobe trunk next, spilling over with designer bitty outfits and accessories. “Nice for me,” he repeated. Rearing up to his full 3 inch height, the bitty jabbed his little finger at the computer screen then propped both hands on his hips and turned his itty bitty baleful glare on you. “Why no nice for you?” he demanded.

The miniscule lamia had a point. He punctuated that point by attempting to buy the item, though in reality he was just pressing the spacebar and mumbling “Buy, buy, buy” under his breath. You let him continue on like that for a moment before doing the clicking, shipment, and payment yourself.

Your Mamba gave a satisfied nod when the “Order success” message popped up.

When you and your Mamba curled up in respective beds that night, you both reflected on a good day’s work completed. You’d splurged on yourself, something you really needed to do more often, and your Mamba had bravely and nobly defended your life and honor from yet another inanimate object.

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[vex-bittys]

The first thing that came to mind was Mamba, and I imagine they would do the second just to frustrate their owners and be annoying.

I am tempted to a drawing for this

(submitted by @hailstormdeath​)

———-

*OMG, this is Mambas and Corals too. Just too cool for snuggles until they aren’t receiving any. This also reminds me of Miette the cat:

*One Thousand Years of jail sounds like a fair punishment for a “Cruel and Unjust Mother”

[vex-bittys]

Are there any Mamba’s available for adoption that I could spoil and care for as a first time owner?

*You should be cautious if you’re adopting a Mamba as your first lamia because they need tons of attention and can be temperamental. If you’re sure you can handle the Mamba personality, we have some of the regal and lovely lamias available to choose from... although they are more likely to make the decision for you.

*Once Vex has given her official Mamba speech, she leads you over to the Mamba nests. The Mambas are lounging on fancy pillows, positioning their bodies to catch the light with their iridescent purple scales. They shimmer like jewels scattered across the nesting area.

*The Mambas regard you with interest as soon as they’re sure that you are here to adopt one of them. Obviously, a Mamba will only allow himself to be adopted by someone with the excellent taste to want a Mamba. You explain that you’re looking for a Mamba to spoil, and the group begins to slither from their nests.

*Now, the competition begins. Mambas wrestle each other. Mambas toss and catch their toys to show off their hunting prowess, laying their “kills” at your feet. Mambas race across the floor and pose under the lights to show you how beautiful they are. You’re quite dazzled by them and not at all sure how you’re supposed to choose from this group of fine Mamba specimens.

*Fortunately, you don’t need to decide. You’re not sure how scores are being kept, but one Mamba seems to have emerged victorious. He slithers up to you and lifts his arms, demanding to be carried. With a smile, you pick him up, where he poses like a monarch looking at his subjects from the balcony of a castle. He’s perfect.

(Artwork by redkammy)

[vex-bittys]

can you do a drabble of me, soul, knight, and le roi going to the pool/lake?

Pool Noodles

When oppressive summer heat set in, you tried to find outdoor activities for your three active lamias (a Chain, a King and a Mamba) that didn’t involve copious amounts of sweat and the ever-present risk of heat exhaustion. Fortunately, you lived close enough to a small public lake to make a day trip out of it. The lake had a small beach and a grassy park with plenty of trees for shade adjacent to it- the perfect summer getaway.

As soon as you parked the car, the lamias tumbled out in a tangle of bony limbs and scaly tails, eager to explore a new area. Your Chain slithered to your side to help you unload the car, and your King and Mamba made short work of driving away some noisy gulls that had laid claim to a portion of the beach.

You and your Chain found a vacant section of sun-warmed sand to place your beach chair, umbrella, and towels on, then your three lamias inspected the narrow swathe of beach and its shoreline wavelets for any signs of danger. They slithered back a few minutes later, reporting back to you that they’d seen no signs of alligators, sharks, or prehistoric lake monsters. What a relief.

With your safety assured, your Chain slithered into the cool water. You slathered on some sunblock and joined him. The mixture of sun and wind sent glimmering ripples through the water, and you and your Chain splashed and laughed, trying to catch them. It took you a moment to realize that two of your lamias were still watching from the beach. You shouted for them to join you, and their response was less than enthusiastic.

The King slowly approached the water as if it might leap up and grab him. The Mamba did not budge, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at the lake in general. Swimming close to you, the Chain whispered to you that your other two lamias didn’t know how to swim very well and were embarrassed by it. You wanted to encourage them to enjoy the lake without making them self-conscious.

You came ashore and ran to your beach supplies, pulling out some inflatable water toys. Your Chain followed behind you, and soon you and your three lamias had inflated a small armada of flotation devices. In the spirit of solidarity, you and your Chain donned some arm floaties and dragged some inner tubes into the lake. Under the pretense of being a mighty hunter, the King wrestled an inflatable alligator into the shallow water and climbed atop it to bask.

Your Mamba managed to wiggle into a rubber ducky inner tube, wearing it around his middle like a championship belt for bath toy hunting. He still remained on the shore though, glaring at the water suspiciously. A small wave broke on the sand in front of him, and he hissed and recoiled, not letting the water touch him. It took all of your willpower not to laugh at him. You thought that your Mamba would never be convinced to enter the lake.

Your Chain had other ideas.

“issss ok to sssstay on sssshore if you are sssscared of the water,” he shouted to the Mamba, who erupted in outrage and launched himself into the lake like an iridescent purple torpedo.

After the initial momentum of his wild charge wore off, however, the Mamba was stuck in the lake with no idea how to swim or balance properly on the inflatable duck. He flailed erratically, causing you and your other two lamias to back away to avoid his splashing. As if in slow motion, the rubber ducky inner tube overturned, dunking the Mamba into the lake. Only his lashing tail still disturbed the surface.

Your Chain- by far the best swimmer of the group- quickly dove under the water to help the Mamba right himself. The Chain held onto the rubber ducky until the Mamba felt steady enough for him to let go, and when he moved aside, you saw a fearless lake snail perched on top of your Mamba’s skull like a silly living crown. You, your Chain, and your King stared at the Mamba, carefully swallowing your laughter.

Seeing that he had your attention, the Mamba puffed up proudly atop his rubber ducky throne as if he hadn’t just floundered himself into needing a rescue. You and your Chain spent most of the afternoon swimming around the King and Mamba. You both used slow, simple movements to demonstrate the proper techniques for swimming and floating without embarrassing the two landlubber lamias about their lack of skill.

By the time the lake adventure was winding down, all three of your lamias were comfortable playing in the water. Unfortunately, the inflatable toys had become casualties of lamia lake hunting. An enthusiastic pounce by your Mamba deflated the alligator, and a playful swat from your Chain’s tail ended the poor rubber ducky. Everyone had fun, though, and that fact made the whole day worthwhile.

As your tired but happy lamias carried your belongings back to the car, you sneakily snatched the snail from atop your Mamba’s head and tossed the brave little gastropod back into the lake where he rightfully belonged.

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[vex-bittys]

Hey, a bitty Mamba lamia recently crept into my house and is refusing to leave. I'm sorta scared they might bite me, (and I don't have any antivenum) what do you think I should do, and why did they sneak in anyway?

*I will answer the second question first. Most lamias will not enter someone’s home unless they are very desperate or know that they are welcome. Mambas are a little different. He may be injured. He may be a wild lamia looking for a safe egg nest. He also might like you or your home and thinks that you should obviously have a Mamba (him!), and just don’t realize it yet!

*Regardless of the situation, it is never a good idea to approach a Mamba that you don’t know. If he is injured or has made himself a nest, he may feel threatened and attempt to bite. Calling the shop was the right thing to do!

*For Mambas, we send out Edgar with one of the shop Chains. Chains are naturally immune to all venoms (except Krait venom), and they have an easier time communicating with Mambas than any other bitty type, human, or monster (except a Mamba’s chosen adopter). Edgar and the Chain will convince the Mamba (and any eggs that he may have) to come back to the shop with them. If the Mamba is injured or has eggs, we will care for him here. If he is just a wild Mamba trying to find a home, we can find him one.

*Either way, we will make sure your home is safe and Mamba-free!

(Artwork by redkammy)

[vex-bittys]

The Mind of a Mamba: A Drabble

Sometimes I think people forget that a Mamba’s sense of pride is his greatest weakness. It would never even occur to a Mamba that he was being deceived. Use this information wisely...

You remembered the day that you adopted your Mamba with clarity. Seeing the small but ferocious little divas striking supermodel poses and savagely pouncing on their catnip mice left an impression on you the minute you walked through the door of the bitty shop. The shopkeeper warned you that Mambas could be difficult and advised you that their egos were their weakness. You’d put that statement to the test and found it to be completely true.

The very first day of Mamba ownership, you decided that you didn’t really want to receive any insect or mouse “trophies,” so you took your regal little lamia bitty to the grocery store to pick out something that wasn’t still moving. Unfortunately, the Mamba had expensive tastes, tastes that your bank account would not be able to keep up with. You considered the problem and came up with a solution. 

His ego is his weakness.

You carried your Mamba over to the cheaper meats. Picking up a reasonably priced package, you showed it to your Mamba. He didn’t look impressed. Time to put your plan into action.

“I’ve heard of this,” you tell your Mamba. “Only those with the most refined palates can appreciate the nuances and experience the full flavor.” You waited, seeing if he’d take the bait.

The Mamba gave the meat a second, longer glance, then gestured for you to put the package of meat in the cart. No way would he admit to having an unrefined palate! Obviously he would love something so fancy! From that day forward, your Mamba ate the cheaper meat cut almost exclusively, always making sure that you saw him savoring it and never complaining.

Now you needed a new plan. Somehow you’d been elected by your closest friends to host a baby shower for your very pregnant bestie, and she deserved the uninterrupted spotlight at the party. Good luck telling your Mamba that though. He always demanded to be the center of attention, and you worried that he might go full-tilt angry toddler and lay claim to the gifts if you and the guests ignored him for too long.

How could you make your Mamba the star of the show and without actually involving him in the show at all?

His ego is his weakness.

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“I thought you had one of those skeleton snake bitties… a lamia?” asked one of the party guests, sipping on the sparkling cider that you’d provided in lieu of alcohol.

“Yeah, a Mamba, right?” quipped another woman.

You smiled deviously into your own champagne flute of fizzy cider. “Oh, he’s outside in the yard. He probably won’t come in until later,” you tell them before going right back to cooing over tiny baby clothes and blurry ultrasound pictures.

That morning, after setting up tons of baby-themed decorations and rearranging your furniture into party mode, you’d taken your Mamba aside. “Can I ask you to do something for me?” you asked him. “Something very dangerous and very important?” Your Mamba puffed up at the words “dangerous” and “important.” That sounded like a task that only a regal Mamba could do! “It’s a task that only a regal Mamba can do…”

You Mamba stayed out in the yard long after the partygoers left. The sun began to set, and you finally coaxed the exhausted lamia back into the house. You comforted him, congratulating him on keeping the dreaded Gullible that you’d seen earlier away from the party. Gullibles may be wild and fierce, but they were obviously no match for your Mamba and must have fled in terror, you reassured him. He puffed and preened at being the obvious hero of a party that he missed out on, vowing to himself to hunt down any Gullible that dared to enter his territory in the future.

Of course he hadn’t admitted that he didn’t know what a Gullible was. Of course he didn’t want to be caught Googling the creature. As long as you didn’t see it, he must have frightened it off! No need to bring up his shortcomings!

His ego is his weakness.

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