#...and maybe...as they get closer...they just....gravitate towards each other for body heat and curl/pile up together

[snowyfrostshadows]

Another question for the Beast & Beauty AU : Luigi is a Big Monster now. Bowser is a Big Monster too. Do they have Big Monster quirks they share ? (If you say purring I'll die happy)

Absolutely

Purring, growling, wagging tails are the things that immediately spring to mind as being the most probable common quirks between a giant turtle dragon monster and whatever mishmash Luigi is.

Maybe an enjoyment for sunbathing?

Which would confuse the hell out of Luigi. He's covered in fur. Why would some sunlight through a window feel so good? Wouldn't it make him overheated????

As for purring......I think he'd be SUPER embarrassed the first time he did so.

Growling? Okay. Monsters growl.

Tail wagging? He can roll with that. Basically any and every animal with a tail will wag it.

Purring? Oh gooooood that's embarrassing. Especially if the the first time he does it is because Bowser compliments him on successfully scaring a toad. This is so much worse than blushing because he could claim it under literally any other emotion but purring??? Animals only do that when they're happy or with someone they like and oh.

Oh no.

Either scaring the pants off a certain (Very Rude) toad is making him giddy enough to purr or the positive reinforcement from Bowser is and he honestly isn't sure which of the two options is worse.

[lockewrites]

Our Own Entertainment

Astarion x F!OC || NSFW (Not actual smut, but very suggestive foreplay) || 2338 words AO3 & FF

Aurella and Astarion struggle to keep themselves entertained during a rather boring party. 

The campsite was bustling with tieflings, singing and dancing, party already in full swing before Aurella and the rest of them arrived. Zevlor stood at the entrance, greeting them as they approached. 

“I hope you’ll pardon them,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “They meant to wait for you all. But it’s been some time since they’ve had cause to celebrate.”

A sudden burst of laughter sounded near the fire, and Zevlor smiled, even as Aurella walked past him with little acknowledgement. 

“I’m glad to see they haven’t forgotten how,” she heard him say to Serilda. 

Aurella headed for her tent, eager to strip off her pack and armor and change into clothes she inexplicably stumbled on when visiting the tieflings the first time. She wore a deep red, linen shirt that was slightly too large; it hung loose around her chest, but she shrugged and tucked it into her waistband.

Returning to the party, her gaze fell to a pile of crates that the tieflings seemed to gravitate toward. She waded through the mass of already inebriated people and reached the boxes, smiling at the bottles upon bottles of what had to be alcohol. Without a second thought, she grabbed a few bottles; she’d need them if Volo’s singing wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Bottles in tow, Aurella climbed onto the rocks near the center of camp and settled down on the cold surface, giving herself a good view of the party’s going-ons. Serilda was no longer near Zevlor, in fact, Serilda was nowhere to be found. It didn’t surprise Aurella; her sister didn’t seem the type to appreciate the chaos of drunks or fun in general. With a long swig, and a sour grimace afterward, Aurella simply watched. Her lip curled with every sip, the vinegar-tasting wine disturbing her senses, but drink enough, and she knew she’d no longer taste it. 

The children ran around, occasionally bumping into a staggering adult, some of the others danced to Volo’s ‘song’ and others ignored him entirely, playing games that involved drinking if they lost and drinking if they won. Lae’zel was chatting with Wyll, and the way he leaned toward her made it seem like he was quite interested; Gale shared his thoughts and likely unwelcome history lessons with two of the tieflings, one carried a lute; and Shadowheart was probably still standing near her tent behind Aurella, keeping to herself. And it seemed someone had a mind to keep her company; the scuffing of boots on rock and a soft grunt sounded behind her shortly before kicking aside her empty bottles.

“Well,” Astarion’s soft voice said, now beside her, “this is rather boring.” He sat next to her, his armor also gone and replaced with a dark tunic.

“Just sitting here?” she asked. “Or the party in general.”

“Both.”

“To be fair,” she said, interrupting herself with a drink, “I’m only here until I get drunk enough to cause issues.”

He chuckled. “Do you really need to be drunk for that?”

She shook her head. “No. But it provides me an excuse for when Serilda inevitably scolds me.” 

“She certainly seems the sort.” He took one of her bottles and pulled out the cork before taking a drink.

Aurella could feel his eyes on her, and just as she glanced at him, he turned away.

“You know,” he said in between sips, his tone growing contemplative, “I never pictured myself as a hero. Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He took another drink and scowled, his lip curling just enough to crinkle his nose. “I hate it. This is awful.”

She laughed. “I completely agree. Though, slaughtering the goblins was fun.”

“True,” he replied with a smile. “That was fun.”

“I’m sure there’s more fun to be had. Relax and try to enjoy yourself.” 

“Enjoy myself?” he remarked, his sneer returning. “There’s a worm in my brain, I’m surrounded by idiots, and all I’ve got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar. All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips a moment. “Vampires are strong, right?”

His brow raised, and there was a look of amused intrigue at the question. “Of course, darling. Why do you ask?”

“Can you throw this high into the air?” She handed him one of the full bottles of wine. “Somewhere over Volo’s head.” 

Astarion hesitated but eventually stood, eyeing Volo before looking at the empty air above him and launching the bottle just as requested. 

While still sitting, Aurella lifted her hand and pulled it back, a red light emanating from her palm for just a moment before she thrust it forward, releasing a blast of magic. It caught the bottom of the bottle, bursting the glass and pouring wine all over Volo and his closest audience members.

They shrieked and shouted at the pair who simply let out barks of laughter.

“Oh, sometimes it’s the simplest of things,” Astarion said.

Aurella continued laughing, ignoring the angry words being screamed at them. One of the men hurled a bottle at Aurella, she stopped laughing just in time to see Astarion’s hand reach in front of her and catch it. She violently flinched and lost her balance.

“Shit!”

Unable to catch herself on anything, she slipped off the rock and landed with a hard grunt between the stone and a log. She rubbed the back of her head and groaned as she sat up.

Astarion stood on the other side of the log, laughing hysterically. “That was quite the entertainment!” he said. 

“Which part?” she asked, still rubbing her back. “Drenching Volo or me falling?”

“Oh, take your pick.”

“Arse.”

He laughed again and offered his hand; she took it, the cold of his skin still jarring to her. Now on her feet, she brushed off her backside and pulled a twig out of her hair.

“I had meant to tell you earlier, my dear,” he began, voice taking a low, husky tone as he straightened her shirt and let his fingers linger, “that red certainly suits you.” 

His fingers drifted up her sternum and to her neck, pushing aside her blonde hair and leaving a trail of cold; he stopped where two puncture wounds marred her skin, barely brushing over them before pulling his hand away. She suppressed a shiver and caught herself from leaning for his absent touch, instead plastering a smirk on her lips; the pain of her fall was entirely forgotten.

“You know,” he began, returning her grin, “rather than throw yourself off any more rocks, we could always amuse ourselves in other ways.”

“Are you going to throw yourself off a rock next?” she asked, crossing her arms. “That’d be rather amusing.”

He rolled his eyes. “There are far better ways to wind up bloodied and bruised,” he replied. “Just you and me. Getting a little closer, so to speak.”

She sucked in her lip, appearing to contemplate her answer. “Maybe,” she finally said. “If you say ‘please.’”

His brow furrowed, but the smile remained. “What?”

Tilting her head, Aurella said, “I fell off a boulder, and you laughed at me. My ego’s hurt. I could use a little begging.”

The smirk softened, and his eyes widened as his eyebrows reached up toward his hairline. “Please.” His hungry grin immediately returned.

She leaned her body toward him, ignoring the heat building in her cheeks; her hand reached out and hovered just over his waistband, taunting him a bit before jabbing his stomach with her finger.

"Okay." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as he shook his head.

"Cheeky little pup." He pulled away from her. "Let's wait until things quiet down."

"All right."

"Now, how to kill time?" he muttered, looking past Aurella.

She turned toward the mass of tieflings. "I don't know about you," she said, "but there's an interesting game of cards going on over there, and I see a few coins on the table. I wouldn't mind winning some gold from drunkards." She glanced back at him. "Or horny vampires."

"I suppose there are worse ways to waste my time," he decided. "And just so you know, I cheat."

“So do I.”

The pair was side-eyed as they approached, Aurella’s stunt still fresh in their minds, but at the dropping of their coin purses on the table, the tieflings welcomed them. They were dealt in, and it didn’t take long for the two to settle into a routine of counting cards and stowing aces; the tieflings were too far into their drinks to notice, but Astarion and Aurella watched each other, tutting whenever they caught the other. 

How much time had passed, Aurella wasn’t sure, but things had quieted, most of the tieflings were in bed or making their way there. Astarion had wandered off during their last hand, claiming to need some air. After a few more rounds, she dumped her winnings into her coin purse and disappeared into her tent. She waited, anticipation building with each torch being blown out and each body shuffling into a bedroll. 

When silence finally fell, she left her tent and tiptoed around the scattered sleepers, following the general direction she’d seen Astarion take. She walked out of the clearing and found herself surrounded by trees and a chill the open area lacked, but she saw no sign of the vampire. Continuing forward, she took careful steps over the roots and around the tree trunks; she had no doubt he knew she was there, and he was simply toying with her. 

Just as she considered turning back, a hand snaked around her waist, and a cold pair of lips whispered in her ear.

“I’ve been waiting,” he purred. He pulled her flush against him and brushed his lips against her neck. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

Aurella placed her hand on the one resting on her waist. “I wouldn’t say you have me just yet.” Her stomach flipped as he chuckled against her skin, one of his fangs just barely grazing her.

“Don’t I?” he asked. “You’re here. And… I don’t think you want to talk.” He turned her around to face him, hand now pushing into her back, keeping their lower halves pressed together. “I think you want to be known,” he said, dipping a finger under her chin and keeping her fixated on him. “To be tasted.”

She smirked despite the color pooling in her face. “And what do you want?”

“What do any of us want?” he replied, his lips matching her own taunting. “Pleasure.” His thumb gently pushed her head to the side as he leaned down and kissed her neck, rougher than before. “Yours. Mine.” He spoke between breaths. “Our collective ecstasy.”

He pulled away from her, his eyes searching her face. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, quickly falling back into his perfect grin. “To lose yourself in me?”

The red of his eyes seemed brighter, more threatening, nearly every inch of her being screaming at her to flee, but all she felt was curiosity and a burning desire to give herself to him. She had no snarky retort, no witty remark. She simply breathed a soft, “Yes.”

“I thought so.”

His lips claimed hers as he grabbed either side of her waist and lifted her, guiding her legs around his torso. With a few steps forward, he balanced her against a tree as their mouths and tongues fought for dominance; he tasted of turned wine, the campfire’s smoke, and metallic threats. The bark of the tree dug into her skin through her top as he pushed against her, leaving no room between them. His hands ran down her torso and began pulling at her shirt, untucking it from her waistband. 

Before he could slip under, Aurella reached back and gave a hard push against the tree, knocking them off-balance. They toppled backward, Astarion landing under her with a grunt, Aurella still straddling him.

He looked up at her, brow raised in confusion and then interest as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, leaving her torso completely exposed. He sat up, digging into her waist for leverage, and pressed a cold kiss between her breasts before traveling upward to her throat.

Just as he pulled away to look at her, she grabbed his shirt and yanked him forward, kissing him again as she gathered her hair with her other hand and pulled it over one of her shoulders. They paused for breath, and she took the opportunity to bare her neck to him, the invitation obvious. His words had promised pleasure, but he could offer pain in equal measure and, in that moment, it was just the same to her.

The vampire’s eyes widened, pupils dilating further as his tongue flitted over his lips. He kissed her again and wrapped her in an embrace as he pulled them both back to the ground. In one fluid motion, without breaking the kiss, he rolled them over and braced himself on top of her; his mouth wandered from hers, lining her jaw then dipping below to her neck, kissing where he’d bitten her before.

Her fingers brushed against his ribs and moved up his side, reaching for his back; she felt something raised through his shirt, but he twisted slightly and grabbed her wrist, pinning it to the ground above her head just as his other wrapped around her neck.

She reached for his hand with hers, digging her nails into his skin, but she didn’t attempt to pull him away, rather she held him in place and forced him to grip her tighter.

After one last kiss to her neck, his fangs reopened his previous bite; the sharp pain quickly subsided to euphoria, and she let out a pleasured moan as he took his fill and she readied for her own.