#the way me and my husband just had to pause the show to shriek incoherently at each other

[porschesbabydaddy]

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally victimized by the “Who’s a good boy?” scene

[leiawritesstories]

Mom, Please!

@throneofglassmicrofics August prompts "Lake" & "Splash"

Word count: ~1k if you squint 😂

Warnings: swearing, teenage antics, Rowan getting grey hairs from stress

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I hear footsteps," Aelin mumbled, half-drowsy.

"Go back to sleep, Fireheart," Rowan mumbled back, burying his face in her hair. "It's probably just a rabbit or something."

"At---" She cracked her eyes open and stared at the fuzzy numbers on the clock across the bedroom. "One in the morning?"

"Mmmh, fine." Her husband attempted to push himself upright and flopped back into bed with a groan. "Dammit!"

She kissed his shoulder. "Don't throw your back out, old man. I'll go check on things." Aelin pushed herself out of bed and tucked the covers up over her sleepy, grumpy husband, who grumbled something about I'll show you a thrown-out back as she stepped into her slippers and crept out of their bedroom.

The hallway of the lakeside cabin was dark and silent, broken by strips of silvery moonlight filtering in through the skylights. Aelin came into the living room and paused, wondering why the hell the sliding door that led to the patio was cracked open. Had one of the kids forgotten to close it?

And there were those damn footsteps again.

Slowly, she crept up to the windows and nudged the curtain aside just enough to peer out and find---"Gods above, Mom!"

"Holy shit, Lana!" Aelin and her oldest daughter screeched at each other at the same time, and Aelin leapt back from the window as if it had slapped her, wishing she could scrub the sight of Lana and her boyfriend playing tonsil hockey out of her eyes. "Fucking hell," she groaned, rubbing at her eyes with both hands. "It's too damn late for this."

There was a rustling outside the house, and a very sheepish Lana snuck back inside through the patio door to find her mother sitting on the couch with her head buried in her hands. "Mom?" she ventured. "Are you...okay?"

Aelin grumbled something incoherent in reply.

Lana discreetly tugged her sweatshirt's hood up, relying on the shadows it cast over her neck. "Um, Mom?"

"I'm fine," Aelin mumbled. "Just gonna have to tell Yrene about this. You could've at least mentioned that Cal's family was here too."

"I didn't know he'd be here," Lana whispered, blushing an adorably bright pink. "He surprised me."

"Pebbles on your window and all that romantic shit?" Aelin teased.

Lana grinned, her smile a mirror of her mom's. "Yeah."

"Can't hardly blame you, then." Aelin stood up. "Well, I'm going to bed before your overbearing father decides I've been gone for too long and hurts himself trying to find his way down the hall in the dark. G'night, sweetheart."

Rowan, of course, was awake when she came back into the bedroom, fumbling for his glasses. "Stop that, buzzard."

He sighed and flopped back into bed. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just Lana and Cal tangling tongues out behind the patio." She turned onto her side and fluffed up her pillows.

Strangled wheezing erupted from Rowan, and Aelin flipped back over to rub her husband's back until his shock dissipated. "The fuck?" he croaked.

She chuckled and handed him his water. "You know, Lana's boyfriend?"

"I know who," Rowan grumbled. "When? How? Why?"

"Ro, honey, you really don't want me to answer any of that." She kissed his forehead. "Go back to sleep, love."

~

The summer sun shone brightly over the lake, and Aelin lounged comfortably in her chair, enjoying the warmth and the laughter surrounding her family.

"Owww! Get away from me!" The shrill shriek was accompanied by a pair of feet sprinting towards Aelin and a smaller body taking refuge behind her chair. "Mom, Bran keeps shooting his stupid water gun at my face!" It was Charlotte, their third child.

"It's not my fault you're afraid of your stupid lashes falling off!" Bran, who was nearly sixteen, yelled back at his younger sister.

Indignant, Charlotte gasped and stood up, planting her hands on her hips. At fourteen and a half, she was the most strongly opinionated of the Whitethorn kids, and she wasn't afraid to show it. "You take that back!" she demanded, and when Bran told her to make him, she picked up a nearby bucket and headed for him.

Aelin opened her eyes and watched her wildfire daughter dump a whole bucket of lake water over her oldest son's head, which resulted in him screaming like a little girl because a frog had happened to be in the bucket and had now found a new home in the back of Bran's swim trunks. She chuckled to herself.

"Kids these days," Lana fake-sighed as she walked past, three more baby frogs cradled carefully in her hands.

"Says the kid who snuck her boyfriend over in the middle of the night," Aelin deadpanned.

Lana's face went scarlet. "Mom, please! Everyone can hear!"

"Just like last night," Aelin added. She winked. "Uncle Fen would be so proud of you, sweetheart."

"Oh my gods," Lana groaned. "You're the---"

"Are those frogs?" A younger voice broke into the conversation, eager eyes peering at Lana's hands. Rielle Whitethorn, the older of the twins by three and a half minutes, jumped up, trying to see the little frogs as Lana put her hands up higher. "I wanna see the frogs, Lana!"

"Shhh!" Lana shot a look over towards where Bran and Charlotte had moved their water gun fight into the lake, joined by Cal and two of his brothers. "I'm gonna dump them on Bran's head." She winked at her little sister. "Wanna join?"

"Hell yeah!"

Aelin lowered her sunglasses. "Rielle Enna Whitethorn!"

"Sorry, Mom." Rielle was ten, and she and her twin brother Declan were like sponges around the older siblings that they idolized. She ran off, following Lana down to the lake, and Aelin watched with her smile hidden behind her book as the two of them crept up behind Bran and successfully released the frogs onto his head.

He howled and scrambled frantically, arms flailing, until he finally gave up and ducked beneath the water to get the frogs off of his head. Aelin snickered, beyond pleased that her children had inherited her fondness for fun little pranks.

Down in the lake, Cal slung his arm around Lana, and she rested her head on his shoulder and smirked up at him. He leaned down, whispered something in her ear that made her shake with laughter, and pressed his---

"Gods above," Aelin groaned, shoving her face into her book.

Not again.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[pinkmirth]

—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven��t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps. 

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

 “Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?” 

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

[formalmess]

For Your Entertainment ~ Chapter Three

Summary: Peasley, fearing for Luigi, searches for answers.

Warnings: Gore, Character Death, Murder

“Luigi?!"

He couldn’t feel anything.

“Luigi?!”

He twitched slightly, trying to regain some sense. Everything around him felt muffled.

“Please wake up!"

He was being shaken awake.

“I’m right here, Luigi, I’m right here! It’s okay, please open your eyes…!”

He felt warm arms wrapped around him. He shifted, clutching onto whoever was hugging him, trembling fingers weakly clawing into fabric.

“Luigi…?!”

He murmured something inaudible.

“Luigi! You’re awake!”

“I’m… awake…”

“Don’t push yourself, darling…! It’s okay, I’m here…”

Luigi moved limply, feeling an incredible weight on his entire body, limbs heavy. He tried to speak, but all that came out were broken mumbles and croaks.

He was hugged tighter.

”I’m so, so sorry… I didn’t mean to stay out for so long... I knew I should have come home sooner, I know, and I'm sorry... and I… P-Peach, she... after the meeting, she was so distraught over something and, she had me and a few others help look for her citizens who were missing… and… we must have been out longer than I anticipated, oh, I'm so sorry...!”

Luigi froze, his breath hitching.

“Luigi? Are you alright?”

“It was r-real…”

“What?”

Luigi looked up at Peasley’s face, who was still cuddling him close. Peasley had a concerned expression on his face, questioning Luigi repeatedly about what he meant, but Luigi didn’t respond. His head rolled to the side, examining the environment around him. They were still in the living room.

Luigi shakily pointed to the television, which now showed nothing more than static.

“Did... d-did you watch a scary movie while I was gone? You know you should watch those with me if you really want to…!”

“Tape… box… v-video…”

”What are you talking about?"

All the haunting images came flooding back at once. Luigi felt consciousness threatening to fade as he recalled Toad’s screams for help, the blood… the terrible, horrible laughter…

”T-Toad…”

“Toad? That’s...” Peasley cocked his head to the side, a bit confused. “...That’s the name of the person we were looking for... And his sister, as well… Toadette, was it?”

Without warning, Luigi released a pained sob, burying his face into Peasley’s shoulder.

“Luigi? What’s wrong?”

“Dh... d-dead… Toad… dead…”

“What?! What are you talking about? Luigi, please, I want to understand-!"

”Th… The tape…”

”Luigi, please, calm down, you’re frightening me… if this is a panic attack, I’m right here, Luigi, I’m not going to leave you, I promise, I’m right here-“

“TOAD IS DEAD!” Luigi shrieked, pointing to the television feverishly. He dissolved into harsh, guttural sobs, Peasley shushing him.

”It’s okay, it’s okay… I promise…”

Peasley moved to turn off the television, since it seemed to be causing Luigi so much distress. He didn’t exactly know what was going on, but he assumed it had something to do with the built-up stress from the past week.

Luigi was still repeating the fact that Toad was dead, mumbling the mantra incoherently to himself.

The prince sighed, helping Luigi up to his feet. He escorted the brunette out of the room, Polterpup barking at the pair as they went upstairs, Peasley whispering soothing words of comfort to his husband. “Luigi… It’s okay… I promise you… It’s going to be okay…”

                                          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had taken hours for Luigi to calm down.

The two had retired to their bedroom, Luigi having lied down on the bed, trying to get comfortable. He wanted to sleep and be at peace for awhile, but his efforts proved useless. Peasley sat by him the entire night, all throughout Luigi’s whimpers and panicked murmurs, trying to calm him down and soothe his worries.

At one point, Peasley had put a cold cloth on Luigi's head, thinking maybe this could all be a fever-induced delirium. He didn’t show signs of illness, but Peasley didn’t know how else to explain it.

Polterpup lied down beside his owner, Luigi petting the ghostly pup to distract himself as he whimpered and held back tears.

As every minute passed, Luigi began to tire himself out.

Peasley had been tidying up a few things around their bedroom when he heard Luigi go silent before snoring lightly, having finally fallen asleep. He smiled, delivering a small kiss to the resting brunette. He thought about following his lead and getting some sleep himself, but his attention was turned to figuring out exactly what had caused all this.

He crept downstairs quietly, entering the living room and turning the television back on. He certainly wasn’t going to be the first to admit how abysmal he was with handling technology, but he could comprehend it enough to know how to rewind the tape.

He kept his thumb pressed down upon the rewind button on the whirring machine until he heard a click, pushing the play button, albeit hesitantly.

It only took a few passing moments to realize what was wrong, and why Luigi had been so mortified.

Peasley had only seen Toad on a few occasions before, at kart races he spectated or get-togethers Peach planned, but seeing him here was gut-wrenching. He looked so scared.

And the person who was tormenting him was more horrific than he could’ve ever imagined. They weren’t like a horror movie villain, or a fairytale monster as he had pictured them previously in his mind.

They were real, and their enjoyment of the whole macabre situation made Peasley feel light-headed.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But, he didn’t stop watching. As much as his stomach twisted and his face paled, he knew he had to figure this out, for Luigi’s sake.

The tape showed off the mysterious attacker holding Toad’s head up high with one hand like a trophy, having just decapitated the poor boy's corpse. They scoffed before dropping the rest of his body to the floor casually.

”You weren’t much help for an assistant. I expected more from you.” The speaker’s words were distorted and slightly garbled, but still clear enough to just barely comprehend. ”You perished so quickly, like a candle extinguishing on an eager child’s birthday cake. It's no wonder that practically nobody noticed your disappearance. And rather unfortunate, I must admit.”

Peasley felt a peculiar sensation fill his chest as he watched, as though he’d heard this person’s words, or style of speaking, before somewhere. The way they talked... It seemed oddly familiar.

”The least you could do now is make for a nice decoration.” The figure raised the same blade from before. “You won’t be needing these…”

Without another word, they plunged the knife into the sockets of Toad’s eyes, carving the irises out with the sickening wet sounds of flesh tearing and sclera shredding. When they drew the knife back finally to put their work on display, all that was left on Toad’s face were empty remnants of eyeballs, a dark void left in their place on his skull.

Peasley squeezed his eyes shut, trying to mask his growing horror and urge to just turn off the tape and pretend this was all some nightmare. That is, until the murderer began speaking again.

”Pathetic.”

The killer released a grunt as they tossed the head offscreen like a broken toy, the sound of it hitting the ground with a thud and rolling away still audible.

”I do hope my next assistant will last a little while longer than you… Why, after all, she has been dying to see you... It’ll be a pleasure to reunite you two at long last.”

Peasley felt his chest tighten as the dark figure now turned and approached the camera, a wide disfigured smile planted on their face. And as they approached, Peasley could now make out some of their features despite the dark lighting.

Their face appeared… broken. As though bits and pieces of their skin was missing.

Though, oddly enough, half of their face looked almost split in color. It seemed fitting for a deranged killer to have such an awful makeup job, but the way their face looked was almost too natural. As though they had torn the face off a porcelain doll and attached it to their own.

They were wearing faded clothing, tattered garb draped around their neck by a broken clip that barely functioned. And though the tape recording quality was low, he could make out hints of yellow and violet plastered on the fabric.

As they absently played with the blood stained knife in front of the camera for a few moments, humming sweetly, Peasley could make out the outline of black leather gloves on their hands.

Peasley jumped when the murderer chuckled once more, still spinning the blade in their palms.

”You know who I am, don’t you? You may not want to accept it yet. And that’s perfectly fine.”

They paused for a moment.

”Death is a cruel thing, as you know. But I’ve learned to be a patient man. I have all the time in the world.”

There was the sound of paper crinkling from just off of the side of the camera’s view, the knife being set down.

”You see, I have so many more people to meet with. So many more tricks to put on display. So many more bows to take. And I won’t rest until everyone you love is dead at my hands, as I promised.”

The letter.

Peasley instantly knew how he'd recognized the style of speech now. The theatrical tone of voice. The delight. That was him. He’d sent it. He hadn't been lying at all.

He was deadly serious.

”Until next time...”

He looked up, staring straight at the camera lens with a crooked smile on his face, one glaring yellow eye visible in the static.

"Ciao~!"

Click.

The screen went black, leaving Peasley to stare at his own horrified reflection upon a layer of static.

Acting hastily and without thinking, he practically tore the tape out of the player, tearing the insides out and throwing the remaining broken cassette away. He turned off the television and backed away, shaking his head. He started back toward the stairs with hurried feet.

He never thought this could happen.

He never thought that someone out there could be this awful… to Luigi, of all people!

Luigi didn’t have enemies, except a few jerks who occasionally picked on him. He certainly didn't have enemies that were murderers, swearing vengeance on his very livelihood, threatening his friends and family!

Peasley truly didn’t know what to believe anymore.

He rushed back upstairs to ensure Luigi was still okay, and to his relief, nothing had changed since he went downstairs. Luigi was sound asleep, snugly cuddled up in the covers, holding the thick duvet close to his chest and breathing softly.

Peasley exhaled, shutting the door behind him. And though there was no present reason to, he locked it.

He sat down beside Luigi, gently running a hand through his husband's hair. Peasley's thoughts were clouded, still trying to figure everything out. He needed answers. And to get that, he needed some help from Luigi. Especially since the murderer seemed so sure that Luigi would know exactly who he was…

Luigi shifted gently, whimpering short phrases and whining in his sleep, his soft breaths increasing to panicked mumbles.

Peasley held onto his hand tightly, hoping the bad dream Luigi was facing would subside.

He didn’t want him to have to wake up into facing another nightmare.

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

I have a fic suggestion. Betty gets jughead a dog! If you think the idea is stupid just ignore me all together lol

Here it is, just for you, friend! I hope I destroy you with feels 😈

Betty sighed in relief as she slipped her heels off her tired feet, ankles slightly swollen with the pressure of the day. She rolled her neck back and forth, delighting in the satisfying pop her joints made, eyes falling closed in contentment. She peeked her head round the door to Jughead’s office, expecting to see him, head down, dark hair always falling over his eyes, as he typed away furiously at his laptop as he did every day, waiting to greet her with a blinding grin and a sweet kiss. Her brows furrowed as she cast her gaze over the empty room, the sound of fingers on keys not creating their usual music.

“Jug?” she called out apprehensively, turning her head as she made to go into the living room instead.

“In here,” a somewhat muffled response came from in front of her. She rounded the corner, uncontainable laugh bursting from her lips as she took in the position her husband had decided to place himself in. He was upside down, lanky legs thrown over the back of their cream couch, hair standing up on end, as he attempted to wrap his mouth around the straw in the glass of water placed before him on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Betty asked around a grin as he flailed, straw moving further away from his mouth with every breath he huffed out. He tipped his eyes to hers briefly, childlike smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Got hiccups, wanted to see if this upside-down drinking thing really worked,” he explained as his upper body jumped slightly, hiccup catching in his throat. Betty shook her head affectionately, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she watched him, so carefree and every bit the child he never got to be in his youth.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” she asked cheekily, quirking an accusing eyebrow at him. He sighed, giving up after his latest struggle and moving to sit up, cheeks adorably flushed from all the blood rushing to his head. Betty came to sit beside him, running a gentle hand over the colour, settling readily into his open arms.

“Writer’s block, again,” he lamented, pressing his face to her temple to inhale her soothing scent. He missed it from the moment she left their bed in the morning until the second she got home at night. She hummed happily as she felt Jughead drop a kiss against her skin, rubbing a reassuring hand against his denim-clad thigh.

“It’ll pass, love, it always does,” she consoled, looking up at him from where her head was resting against his shoulder. He grumbled incoherently beneath her, fingers tracing incomprehensible patterns against her arm.

“I just do the same thing every day, all day. It gets tired, and I don’t want to feel that way about writing; I love it, I do. I just need something else to break up the day, you know? Occupy my mind with something else for a while,” he vented. Betty pressed her lips together, wanting so desperately to tell him her news but deciding she needed to wait a little bit longer. She tucked her face into his shirt to hide her grin.

“I’m sure we’ll find you something,” she murmured into the fabric, all the tension leaving her shoulders as he pulled her closer against him.

***

“Juggie?” Betty called as she closed the door softly behind her, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice as she struggled with the tiny ball of fluff in her arms.

“Office,” Jughead shouted by way of reply. She followed the rhythmic tapping of keys until she was standing at the threshold, features glowing in anticipation. He eyed her cautiously, lips pinching together in a pout as he tried to suppress a grin, spreading infectiously from her own.

“Betts… what is it?” he asked, glinting eyes flitting over her frame, taking particular note of the way her arms were tucked securely behind her back. She squirmed slightly, wrestling with an invisible force. “What are you hiding?” he asked again, letting out a nervous laugh at her unwavering smile.

“You said you wanted something to occupy your time. Well…” she trailed off, finally bringing her arms around in front of her, revealing the scrabbling grey and white sheepdog puppy cradled in her grip. “Say hello to the newest member of our family!”

If someone had asked Betty to describe the look that lit Jughead up from within she didn’t think she would ever find the words to do it justice. He bounded from his seat, taking the puppy from her hands and brought it to his face with the wonder of a young boy, cooing sweet words into its warm fur. When he finally tore his eyes away from his present they were shining through a mixture of pure innocent joy and unshed tears.

“Betty, how did you…?” he trailed off, words getting stuck in his throat, expression filled with unadulterated awe.

“Your dad told me that you always wanted one when you were younger, before�� you know. So I sourced out this little guy and I’ve just been waiting to pick him up,” she beamed, completely in love with the look that showed no sign of leaving Jughead’s face. “Couldn’t have you clawing at the wallpaper in boredom now, could we?” Betty spoke, half to Jughead, half to the dog, as she moved closer to scratch the panting ball of fluff behind the ears. Jughead’s free hand snaked round her waist, pulling her tight against his side.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled softly, tongue sneaking out to wet her lips delicately, his eyes following the movement.

“I had an idea, yeah,” she replied with a smirk, leaning in to capture his mouth with hers. They pulled away with a joint laugh, Betty letting out a disgusted shriek as a third, more unwelcome tongue joined their little make out session, the puppy choosing that time to lap at both of their cheeks. “What do you want to call this menace?” Betty laughed, swiping a hand at the slobber left on her cheek.

“Hot Dog,” Jughead said instantaneously, cheeks colouring a rosy pink. “In my head he was always called Hot Dog,” he sighed. Betty couldn’t wait any longer, practically bouncing on her toes with her need to tell him.

“There’s more,” she burst out eventually, clasping her hands together in glee. Jughead turned to her eyes wide.

“More than the best present ever?” he asked incredulously, tickling Hot Dog’s belly gently. She nodded, green eyes glistening.

“I know you said you needed something else to do, and in my defence I found out about this after I got Hot Dog so I didn’t mean for it to come all at once but…” she paused, taking a steadying breath. “Look at the back of his collar,” she whispered, tears shimmering along her waterline. Jughead’s brows pinched in confusion as he cupped Hot Dog closer to his chest, glancing down to notice something attached to the leather. He took the rolled up paper in trembling hands, unfurling it slowly. He read over the results, mouth dropping open.

“Betty, are you…?” he whispered, heart hammering in his chest, threatening to burst from an overload of emotions. She was nodding frantically, biting enticingly on her bottom lip as the tears over-spilled.

“Yes! The doctor sent over the results this morning. We’re gonna have a baby, Juggie,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding in his ears. It was hardly a moment before his own eyes flooded, tears leaving wet trails down his cheeks as he wound his fingers into her golden hair, pulling her face to his in a searing kiss. He pulled back, breathless, head spinning, to look into her eyes.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he repeated frantically, voice shaking. She brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, a gesture he would never tire of.

“Think of it this way,” she began, pausing until he raised his eyebrows in question. “You’ll never be bored again,” she murmured cheekily, heart flipping as he threw his head back in carefree laughter.

“That I won’t.”

[formalmess]

For Your Entertainment ~ Chapter Five

Summary: Princess Peach visits Luigi to talk.

Warnings: Gore, Character Death, Murder

The screen flickered once more.

Luigi watched with tear-stained eyes, frozen. He could feel Peasley holding him close, trying to calm him, but his senses were numb.

The clip wasn’t over yet, Toadette’s lifeless corpse being released from the shackles upon the wheel. She was dragged away from the view of the screen. Her brother’s head soon followed, casually kicked after her body.

The screen glitched, revealing static and broken images, before finally clicking off to show pitch blackness.

Peasley held his head low out of respect. He paused, shifting to examine Luigi and evaluate his wellbeing. He looked entirely broken, his composure and mind shattered. His face was a pure white.

”Luigi...”

Peasley shook his head, standing up defiantly.

“We’re going to go get help. Right now. Mario and the Princess, we’re going to go get them both. They’ll be able to help us-“

”Peasley...” Luigi’s voice trembled. “I can’t... I don’t...”

”You can stay here. I’ll go get them myself and bring them back here-“

”NO!”

Luigi shrieked as he ran to Peasley, grabbing his arm, pulling him into a desperate embrace. He held onto him like a life preserver, unable to let go as he wept into Peasley’s shoulders, whimpering and sobbing.

”D-Don’t leave me... G-Grambi... n-no... H-He’s g-going to kill me!”

”No. No, he won’t.” Peasley kept his voice firm despite Luigi squeezing the breath out of him. Peasley shifted, moving out of Luigi’s grasp. “He won’t lay a hand on you. I promise you that.”

”But... h-he...”

”Above all else, I’m going to keep you safe. That’s what I promised you. Until my last dying breath, I will do everything in my power to protect you. He won’t hurt you.”

”I d-don’t want you to leave m-me... he... he’ll take you too...” Luigi sniffled, uneven sobs escaping him. “I-I don’t want you to g-go... he’ll... he’ll... f-find you and kill y-“

”Luigi...” Peasley interrupted his husband’s frantic words. “We can’t just sit here and wait it out. As much as I hate to say it, that deranged man knows where we are already. We have to do something, quickly, before he can hurt anyone else.”

Luigi shivered, holding his sides. “I... I don’t want... I don’t...”

Peasley exhaled, walking away from Luigi to turn off the static television. It switched off with a comforting clunk, the nightmarish video vanquished for now. He stood up and pressed a hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

“Luigi... We cannot let this man know we are afraid. We have to stay strong. He has to see he won’t break you over something like this. He’s trying to get back at you, as childish and immature as that sounds. And if we give him no reaction... he... he’ll...” Peasley hesitated. “He’ll leave us alone.”

”But, P-Peasley, I’m scared... You don’t know... w-what he...” Luigi’s voice was hushed, squeezing his eyes shut as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m so scared. I’m s-so, so scared... H-He’s supposed to be d-dead...”

”I know... I know it’s frightening. I know. But, it’ll be okay, I promise.”

Luigi nodded, whimpering. Peasley lifted his hand to wipe Luigi’s tears away, holding his face soothingly.

”Hush now.” Peasley whispered with a gentle hum, trying to calm his husband in any way he could. He hugged Luigi warmly. “Everything will be oka-“

There was a harsh knocking at the front door.

Peasley involuntarily released a rather shrill scream, grabbing onto Luigi for protection out of pure shock. After a moment, he coughed nervously and stepped back.

Luigi was frozen, his body visibly shaking.

”W-Wait here, I’ll go...” Peasley cleared his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He tried to control his hurried breathing as he turned away from Luigi.

He walked to the window, pulling back the drawn curtains slowly. He gasped, rushing over to throw open the front door without any signs of hesitation.

For, standing in the doorway, was a crying Princess Peach.

She held a rectangular object in her hands, an all-too-familiar video cassette tape clutched tightly in her grasp.

She sniffled, trying to compose herself.

”Can... C-Can I please talk to Luigi?”

                                          - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Peasley poured a cup of tea for Peach, the group having retreated to the kitchen to talk.

Luigi, through mostly incoherent babbling and mumbles, tried to explain the situation to Peach, telling her everything. The letter, the tapes, the threats... everything.

Peach nodded slowly, listening intently to every word. And once he had told her everything he knew, she began her own explanation.

She had woken that morning to a parcel having been delivered to her quarters, a Toad explaining it was a gift for her. It had been left out in the main hall, the Toad quickly adding on that they didn’t know how it had gotten there.

Inside the box was a tape. And, though it took Peach awhile to find a way to play it, she eventually watched it.

And much to her horror, the tape featured one of her dear friends and subjects being murdered by an old enemy she had previously thought was dead.

And since Mario was out traveling the world with Cappy, she knew she had to get the help of the only other people who knew of Dimentio’s existence, rushing out to Luigi’s manor without a second thought.

She finished her explanation with a deep exhale, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to hold back tears.

”D-Dimentio is... he was supposed to have been locked away in the Underwhere. To rot and suffer.” Peach’s tone was laced with venom. Peasley had never seen her look so upset. “We ended his game-!”

”And you have no idea why he might be doing this?” Peasley inquired. “Or how he might have escaped death?”

”No. No, I... I don’t.” Peach stared up through a lidded gaze, expression exhausted and dull. “Dimentio was never a sane individual... but I-I... I didn’t think he’d be capable of something s-so horrendous...!”

She abruptly forced out a desperate laugh, her laughter dissolving into sobs. 

“He shouldn’t be alive! He shouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else!”

Peasley pushed a box of tissues toward her, sighing as he tried to wipe away the tears forming in his own eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of her.

Abruptly, Luigi stood, holding his sides. Polterpup followed him with a confused whimper, barking at his owner for attention. Luigi ignored the spectral pup as he left the room, trembling and stifling tears, leaving Peasley alone with Peach.

Peasley wanted to go comfort his husband, but decided against it, realizing Luigi needed some time to himself. 

The prince then tried to console the sobbing princess before him to the best of his ability. She wiped at her eyes after awhile, attempting to calm herself.

”P-Peach,” Peasley ventured carefully. “Pardon my asking, but...” He paused, running his fingers over the smooth porcelain of his teacup. “Who exactly is Dimentio? Why is he tormenting you and Luigi?”

Peach paused and sighed, steadying her breathing.

“Dimentio...” She cringed, the mere thought of his name turning her words of hatred to pure malice. “He was a jester, working for a villain named Count Bleck, who was trying to end all worlds. Mario, Luigi, Bowser, and I all worked together to try and stop his plans.

“And I didn’t realize it at the time... or perhaps I was in denial... but, at one point, we had lost contact with Luigi...

”A-And, during this whole fiasco, Luigi had been taken by Bleck’s crew and brainwashed into believing he was ‘Mr. L’... a minion serving under Count Bleck’s command. When we found him as our Luigi again, it was after Dimentio had seemingly brought his memories back to normal.

”And Dimentio...? He... He appeared to be nothing more than a minion following Bleck’s plans. But, he played us all for fools. When a time of vulnerability came, Dimentio betrayed the Count and...

”He forcefully took control of Luigi’s mind and body, making him do his bidding under the persona of Mr. L... and the two fused with a dark entity to create a terrible monster, intent on destroying all dimensions.

”Mario, Bowser, and I defeated him quickly. Mario hated to see his little brother being used for evil like that...

”A-And, after that, Dimentio was gone. He seemingly... died. Right in front of our eyes. But, n-now... he...” Peach buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know how he survived. I don’t know.”

Peasley nodded, trying to take in all the information. Dimentio certainly sounded like a menace, if what Peach described was accurate.

”So, he blames Luigi for his defeat? That’s why he’s coming after you all...?”

”That letter you mentioned... if t-that’s true, then it means Dimentio is coming after Luigi’s friends and loved ones. He wants them gone.” 

Peach glanced up, her face pale as she came to a startling realization. 

”You two... you two aren’t safe here. He knows where you live. He knows where he can find you. And... if he does, then-“

Peasley nodded, standing. He rubbed at his eyes. “It’s been a thought plaguing my mind.”

”I can get reinforcements.” Peach offered. “I’ve already sent a letter for Mario and Bowser. But, I doubt that Koopa will answer me... he hasn’t even been attempting to kidnap me lately. It’s been about a week since I’ve heard a word from him. It’s a little odd, I must admit. Whenever I don’t want him to show up, he does... and the moment I actually need him, he vanishes! 

”And Mario?”

”No response yet... but, until he does, I’ll inform the Mushroom Kingdom citizens to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity, and inform our allies of Dimentio.”

”But, Peach, will you be safe?”

She nodded. “I mustn’t abandon my people. I’ll stay here and keep watch over each of them. I won’t let the same tragedy happen again. I’ll be sure to keep in frequent contact with you.”

”I’ll have to send a letter to the Beanbean Kingdom... I wouldn’t want to worry Mother at all, though... perhaps Dreambert would be willing to let us stay at Pi’illo Island for a bit. He was saying at the meeting that he’d love to see Luigi again...” 

Peasley quieted gradually, crossing his arms as he strode over to the hallway. “But, you’re right, Peach. We... We aren’t safe here.”

Peasley’s heart sank as he heard the muffled sounds of Luigi crying from the other room. Hundreds of thoughts ran through Peasley’s mind, but he eventually settled upon the most obvious solution.

He had to protect Luigi, no matter what. Above all else. 

They just had to get away.

”Tomorrow, then.” Peasley announced to Peach. “Tomorrow, we leave the Mushroom Kingdom.”