I have this really vague idea for a Mr. L x Peasley AU (because there's barely any content like that and that's a crime). Basically all I have is:
Mr. L keeps causing Prince Peasley trouble (why specifically him, idk), so they encounter each other very frequently
They're enemies, but they constantly flirt with each other every time they battle. There is a lot of tension between them and everyone is like "oh my god just make out already"
Peasley teasingly calls Mr. L "my dear" and "darling" a lot. Not really sure what Mr. L calls him
It turns out that Mr. L is Luigi, the missing brother of Mario. He ran away years ago and somehow got involved with the Bleck crew (idk what they're doing in this universe exactly)
(Just to clarify: Luigi became Mr. L of his own volition and not because of brainwashing)
Peasley starts to see through Mr. L's mask (the figurative one, not the literal one) and realizes that he just acts the way he does to compensate for his insecurity and anxiety
There's a scene where Mr. L takes off his mask (possibly during a rare vulnerable moment) and Peasley comments on how cute his face actually is
There also needs to be a scene where they dance together like that one Catradora scene (possibly with Mr. L wearing a dress because why not)
Mario took Luigi's disappearance pretty hard and hasn't been quite the same since. Mr. L has idea how badly his bro misses him :(
Feel free to suggest your own ideas or make content inspired by this or something
they roughhouse during their time at the castle a lot, but mr.l is just rlly a prideful bitch and def eggs o'chunks to challenge himself against the one guy there who looks the most capable and muscly (like everyone, he craves the embrace of a burly beefy man. but hes stupid and gay so ! initiating spontaneous battles it is !)
o'chunks feels (a little) bad for having a teammate who joined so late into their plan. so even though he gets the most worked up over him, he does get L to share a pint or two w him and, honestly, at that point their roughhousing is just an excuse to crash and relax together while getting drunk off their ass and laughing abt the stupid shit their teammates do.
it takes a while for luigi to remember his time at the castle post-game, but a different, more familiar/teasing side of him jumps out when he's w the minions, so like...their time at the castle i feel is rlly important to starting any possible romantics? luigi isn't gonna be as into the roughhousing, but he still rlly enjoys the emotional, physical intimacy of getting plastered w The Boys.
they laugh a lot w each other ! o'chunks thinks luigi says a lot of surprisingly ridiculous shit, and luigi's endlessly appreciative of having another guy by his side who's seen him at one extreme end of his personality, and still b comfortable and familiar around him.
A loud clack echoed across the field littered with sheets of metal and flat stone, startling a gaggle of thin metallic birds into the rusty morning sky. Arcane light fizzed and cast long shadows in brief bursts in their little clearing. Mimi grunted with the effort of swinging her staff, her arm not quite flexing properly as she parried Dimentio’s flickering projectile.
She noted with satisfaction the sweat that flew off his head as he moved, far too occupied with his own waning stamina to interpret her strain as anything other than regular exertion. She watched him hover around ground level, bobbing and sinking like a stale balloon. But her goal was only to see who could last longer, rather than harm him, so she kept her distance and focused on her footwork, keeping the staff tightly gripped between her slippery fingers.
No time to dwell on her malformed digits. Dimentio had gotten airborne again and fired another volley of purple-yellow sparks. She stumbled to the side in a half-hearted dodge, and then shifted her form to the Count’s to take to the air. She ripped the clasp of the cloak off her chest and jetted toward the magician, swinging the staff one-handed with a strained cry.
Dimentio spluttered something about playing fair, but managed to shield himself in time to deflect her blow, as always.
“No one,” Mimi laughed breathlessly between futile swings, “ever plays fair, Dimmy!”
Dimentio pirouetted in midair and twirled away, out of Mimi’s reach, casting a ring of sparks around himself to keep her back.
Mimi huffed and ducked under him, swatting an errant projectile away. “Besides-”
Dimentio held out his hand and a transparent box began closing around Mimi. She shifted into a smaller, lighter form, curling up and rolling through the closing gap with the staff clenched between her teeth.
When she hit the ground, she had become O’Chunks. She grabbed a rock and slung it at her opponent, earning a betrayed scowl. She grinned and shrank back to her own body as she stepped forward a few paces. “You need the exercise!”
Dimentio gasped for air, sinking to ground level, and immediately darting away as Mimi brought her staff down in a crushing blow that clattered against one of the metal sheets like a resounding gong. He wiped his brow with an exaggerated flourish. “Darling, there is a thin line between exercise and agony. Thin, yes, but very real.”
As Mimi approached, her form shifted and melted and grew until she dragged the staff in one thick fist as a gorilla.
Her opponent staggered back, one step, two steps, kicking up red dust in his wake. He held up his hands imploringly. “And, my dear, you are about to push yourself over the edge of exercise into that agony.”
Mimi snorted. “As if! You’re the one all sweaty and gross like you’ve been lifting smelly weights allllll day.”
“Are you stealing my similes?” Dimentio quirked a grin.
“No,” Mimi’s own smile widened. “I’m stealing your victory.” She raised her staff in her huge, meaty arm.
Dimentio’s begging hands swept open and a few purple-yellow sparks scattered, striking Mimi’s raised arm, fizzing and popping like rock candy.
She shrieked and drew back instantly, dropping the staff, and then she scowled as it dawned on her that she had vastly overreacted to the equivalent of a slap on the wrist. Even Dimentio gawked at her, hands frozen in their casting position as he processed that information.
“Don’t-” Mimi began, before Dimentio plowed ahead anyway.
“You are injured.” He lowered his hands, eyes narrowed just a fraction. “You didn’t say that.”
Mimi held her arm against her chest and turned away. “No, it’s okay, it’s normal, it’s not broken.”
Dimentio turned his head toward the sky silently for a few seconds, and then returned his attention to her. “You fool.” His voice came out low, almost uncertain.
She snarled. “Don’t touch it, it’ll bend back into the right shape on its own.”
“You bent an osseous rod, didn’t you?”
“It’ll heal! Just leave me alone…”
Dimentio held up his hands again, open-palmed in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare pester the powerful and terrible Edamimi. But…” He turned his head away a touch. “You probably should have alerted O’Chunks that all was not well.”
Mimi bared her teeth and hunched around her arm. “He’s busy with Nassy and County. The piece will heal, I can still do everything I need to. It just… hurts. But I can push through pain. It’s easy!” Her expression soured further when her ‘reassuring chirp’ came out as more of a ‘cracked wail’.
“Of course, of course. Yes, just leave our survival in my capable hands.”
Mimi grimaced and forced her arms straight against her sides. “I can still do it.”
Dimentio strode past her, the staff jumping into his hands in a flash of his aura. “Of course, darling. But maybe we shouldn’t encourage these little flare-ups by fist fighting like rowdy bar-hoppers in a scuffle over a game score.”
“… Since when were you the responsible one?”
“Ah ha ha ha haha. It seems the skill has passed down the chain of command to the last man standing.”
