Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You were only kids.
Both friends, both always there for each other.
You grew up together.
Got married.
Had a kid.
A beautiful boy.
She was so happy,
You were so happy.
She was so stubborn, insisting to name him after you.
Her king.
No matter what you ruled, how little or how much.
Her king.
You loved her so much – and she did too.
So when she left,
You couldn’t take it.
People were there for you – they always were there for you
It wasn’t the same.
It will never be the same.
You hated being without her.
You tried filling that void.
…
It didn’t exactly go as planned.
She hated you
You hated you.
No one seemed to love you.
Not like you loved her.
So with the heart in tattered pieces, its stitches gone astray
You decide to lock it.
Throw away the key.
You decide that no one will ever make you feel that way again.
You forget what love is, sometimes.
You become what she hated.
What she never wanted.
You became ruthless.
More tyrannical.
If it meant getting the crown, you would do anything.
Unwavering and barbaric to your own father.
Sacrifice your children’s needs for your own.
You became what you hated.
You became what you never wanted.
Anything for the crown.
Anything for her last wish.
Anything.
Anything.
Anything.
You lost.
A lot.
Over and over again.
But that never stopped you.
Always,
Always,
Always, you get back up.
You’ll never forgive them.
Not after what he did.
Never.
Never.
Never.
You hate them.
You hate them both.
They make your blood boil.
You wish to kill them, slowly.
You dream about it, almost all the time.
Their screams as you pull out their organs, their congealing blood on the floor.
You wake up angry, always angry.
Never happy, not anymore.
Not without her.
Make them suffer.
Make them suffer.
Make them suffer.
I will make them suffer.

Chapter Text

The blue surgical mask was scratchy and stiff against his mustache. Hot air pushed up from his nose, blowing in his eyes. The platinum blond wig was coarse and craggy, and the dress too tight at his waist and too loose at the bust. Peach had to stuff pillows to make it look like cleavage, and those pushed against his chest, making his breaths short and puffy. His rose high heels clicked annoyingly against the floor as he struggled to walk in them. Peach had shown him how, but he can’t remember anymore. Do you step with your toe? Your heel? He can’t recall.

It was worth it. Completely.

Anything to one up that overgrown lizard.

The little mask man tugs him to a stop, his gloves and ropes further chafing his hands. How could gloves be so itchy? Did he mention the gloves? The long, white, gloves that were beautifully elegant on Peach? The gloves that look like they were growing up Luigi’s arms like ivy? Surely, he did. 

How could they be so uncomfortable? He wore gloves all the time, long sleeves too. Luigi tried to wrap his head around this conundrum, with little success.

The ropes didn’t help either. The masked man (even shorter than luigi) looked at him, said something high pitched and incomprehensible, and left his rope to waddle to a corner. Luigi laughed at his tiny, struggling legs. The little man almost fell over. Twice

Luigi giggled silently, and the little man gave him a very rude gesture.

“Princess.” A booming voice bellowed above him.

“Please, sit.” A table and three chairs appeared before Luigi, each made of some fine wood, like oak. He doesn’t know many trees. 

Luigi spotted Bowser’s… servant… thing… waving his wand, his blue robe flapping. He felt a sudden tightness from all around his body, not just his waist where the dress pinched him. Looking down, he saw a faint blue energy encompassing him. It set him down gently at the table, pushing in the chair behind him. The servant thing did the same.

“So.” The voice said again, the body it belonged to sitting down at the table normally. I guess levitation and other party tricks on people are only meant for prisoners. 

Who could have guessed?

“You’ve surrendered yourself this time– what’s that all about?” Bowser said, looking at his nails. Claws. It has claws. They clicked together quietly as he looked over them, pretending to be apathetic. Maybe it really was bored, this was a whole routine to it now.

Luigi didn’t respond. His voice would give away the entire operation that Mario and Peach had so diligently planned. He couldn’t fail– he wouldn’t fail so easily.

Instead he pointed to his throat, hoping the movement didn’t offset his wig in any way.

“Yeah, you’ve got a cold. So what?” Both of its hands were on the table now, its eyes looking at him. They were red, angry. No wonder. Probably not much going up there. Must be infuriating sometimes. Its claws clacked angrily on the table.

Luigi drew an X on his throat to, hopefully, clear up his point.

“Oh. No speaking?”

Luigi shook his head.

“I guess I can get a guard or two to bring some paper and a pencil.”

Luigi nodded his head. The quicker this was over, the quicker he’d be able to contact his brother and tell him everything was going to plan.

“Hey, Richard, Ono, come over here.” It raised its voice slightly, so the guards could hear. They both walked over, looking ready for anything.

“Ms Toadstool over here has a cold, can’t speak. Do you mind if you could bring paper, a pencil, maybe a pen – Peach which one do you want?”

Silence.

“Peach.”

More silence. 

Luigi was looking off to the side, looking for Peach.

“Hello? Anyone up there?” It waved a hand over Luigi’s face, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, watch it!” Luigi smacked his hand away, and the wig shifted slightly.

Deadly silence.

“Peach?” Its hands rested on the table, one wrapping around the other. Its voice was stern, commanding, no, demanding an answer. Luigi dared not to look at its eyes.

Luigi nodded. He hoped that it didn’t notice the… mistake earlier. That the plan wouldn’t end before it started.

“When did you get brown hair?” Its voice was still calm, agonisingly so. No emotion lay in it.

It was too late. Luigi couldn’t even get in the front door before being sniffed out. He didn’t want to see his brother’s or Peach’s faces of disappointment. They told him this would happen. That Peach should have gone. Why did Luigi even insist on this?

“I–”

“Luigi. Be honest.” It knew . Not even ten minutes had he been here.

“Please, don’t send me back! I can’t see the looks on their faces! I can’t fail!” Luigi had stood up, leaning a hand against the table, the other on his chest. Tears began to prick his eyes. He was such an easy crier.

“Sit down.” The voice, assertive, mild, rang through Luigi’s ears. He followed the orders. Why did he? He should burn this whole place to the ground. He can. He should. If he believes, right?

“How long.”

“Pardon?”

“How long did you know?”

“As soon as you walked in, almost. I don’t mean to offend you, but you and Peach have very different heights. When you knocked your wig, you had essentially confirmed it for me. If you hadn’t, I would have just looked at your handwriting–” Bowser lifts up a piece of paper under the stack the guards brought, “–I have a key right here.” 

The paper had a letter from Peach, swirly letters and all. How he had gotten it, or what it said, Luigi didn’t know.

Hot tears stabbed his eyes. He removed his wig, his brown hair finally at peace. He ripped off the mask too, happy to get fresh air on his skin.

“Why? Why did you do this?”

“I– I–”

“Don’t stutter. Think first.”

Luigi thought. This could still be saveable. Maybe he could say it was a rogue mission. That might work– yes– he came here on his own accord, to, uh, defeat the lizard.

“I came here on my own accord, to try and defeat you. I thought that disguising myself as Peach I could further and more effectively infiltrate your castle.”

“Right. And earlier when you said, ‘don’t send me back, I can’t fail?’”

Luigi grimaced. The lizard saw.

“You lied.”

“It’s better than the truth.” Luigi admitted.

“How so?”

“At least it's believable.”

“Like you would do anything you weren’t told to.” it said, turning away towards the guards. “Get him out of here. I don’t need–” It gestures to Luigi, “– this to deal with.” 

That stung. A small part of Luigi had to admit it. It was also true, to an extent. Another small part of Luigi had to admit that, too.

“You know what? You’re just some o- overgrown lizard who like n- n- nothing more than to torture people!” Luigi screamed.

“Calm down. You’re just going home.” How was it so calm, collective? It made Luigi so angry. All it ever did was hurt Luigi, it hurt his brother, it hurt Peach. It kept him in a cage for days like he was some zoo animal. He was done with this fatally tranquil thing. Its claws rapped on the table, letting small clicks ring in the air.

“SO?” Luigi howled.

“Stop yelling.”

“AND IF I DON’T?” Luigi continued to screech. The whole castle could hear him now. Other reptilian guards were poking their heads through the door ways, seeing what the fuss was about.

The servant thing got out of his chair, walking away. 

It knew something. It knew something Luigi didn’t. That only enraged him further.

“No one will like it. Not you, not me, not Kamek, not even Murai three floors down.”

“I. DON’T. CARE.” Luigi did his best to sound intimidating. It was hard to accomplish. Since he was in a happy pink and white dress. With heels. He stood on the table, hoping it would help.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? I’m far too valuable! Even if you did, Peach would wage a war on you! A real war! Not this dress - up and teatime thing! Why should I follow your orders anyways? It’s not like you're my king.”   Luigi hoped that would tick him off. Yet, he knew that Bowser would be the most likely one to live in a fist fight. It had fire, after all.

The guards had moved away too, now.

Luigi took a chance and looked at Bowser’s eyes.

Oh.

Eyes can’t glow, right?

Bowser was seething with rage. Its hands had gripped into the table, scoring it. 

Luigi very suddenly realised he was a dead man.

“DUNGEON.” Bowser could level Everest with that word. So full of hate and malice, like being shot with a flaming ball of rock from space. 

Luigi very quickly left his heels on the table and started to run out. He stumbled and rolled off the table, but quickly picked himself back up again. The dress wrapped around his legs, causing him to slow. Luigi picked it up, showing his blue overalls underneath. He looked stupid. Only seconds later, he heard a loud thumping. He realised with terror that Bowser was following him. Luigi wished his little legs to go faster.

Not even five seconds after Luigi had started running did Bowser catch up to him. Luigi felt a tug on the back of the scratchy dress and whoosh , he was suddenly off the ground. The large hand was surprisingly delicate compared to the monster who housed it.

Luigi looked very slowly at Bowser. The glowing ruby eyes stared back. Luigi tried to make himself as small as possible.

 “I told you no one would like it.” Again, that harmonious voice. It still annoyed Luigi, even though he was fearing for his life. Quiet, too. Like he was talking to some kid. Barely even above a whisper.

The silence was getting pretty repetitive now. This one was longer than most.

“What’s– What’s going to happen to me?”

“CAGE.” 

Bowser roughly set him on the ground, and Luigi struggled to get his balance. 

It was more like a light throw.

The guards were on him quickly. They grabbed his arms and roughly pulled him to the dreaded cage. Luigi went, not even trying to break free. He’d ruined everything, and he knew it.

Chapter Text

Why was he here?

Why?

Why?

Did he think he could trick you?

It didn’t work.

It never will.

But

It almost did.

Didn’t it?

If he had a mushroom, maybe.

You aren’t thinking straight.

You need to think.

He could not trick you.

Not even if he tried.

Not even if you were blind.

You would know.

You would know.

Wouldn’t you?

Think. 

Think.

Think.

Why was he here? 

Here to defeat me, he says.

What is his purpose?

To defeat me.

How did he get here?

With my soldiers

Which one is he?

The green one. 

I would know.

I hate him. 

I hate him. 

I hate him.

When did he get here?

Only ten minutes ago.

My soldiers told me.

I trust them.

Who?

He is Luigi.

Where is he?

He is in the dungeon.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

That is what he wants.

To be alone.

Why would he want to be alone?

Maybe he is like you.

Maybe he does not like his brother.

His monster of a brother.

No.

No.

No.

That is not right.

He is in the cage.

No one likes the cage.

Why does he want to be in the cage?

Maybe he doesn’t. 

Maybe he has a plan.

No.

His plan was to trick me.

No one can trick me.

Not anymore.

No one.

No one.

No one.

He used to have a plan.

He does not have a new plan.

He is not that smart.

He does what he is told.

What if he was told to anger you?

To make you bellow.

To make you want to throw him out the window.

Because he is a monster.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

You are a monster.

No.

That is not correct.

I think, therefore I feel.

I feel, therefore I think.

Monsters cannot feel.

Monsters cannot think.

You feel anger.

I feel other things.

Do you?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

I felt love.

Do you feel love now?

No.

Not as much as I used to.

Do you feel anger?

Yes.

All the time.

I can not always keep it at bay.

Monsters only feel anger.

I am not a monster.

Then who are you?

I am not a monster.

I am me.

I am the only me that there is.

You are not what you were.

People change.

But,

That is not the point.

Something is wrong.

I can feel it.

What’s wrong?

I do not know.

Then there is nothing wrong.

But I feel.

Therefore I think.

There must be something wrong.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe this is the plan.

How?

I do not know.

I am missing something.

What would he want?

What would he gain?

I do not know.

I do not know.

I do not know.

I must know.

I hate not knowing.

What will you do?

I will talk to him.

Why?

He hates you.

I hate him.

He will not talk to you if he hates you.

I will make him talk.

Whatever it takes.

Whatever it takes.

…

“Bring the prisoner to me.”

Chapter Text

Well, he had messed up bigtime. Not only did Bowser figure out he wasn’t Peach just by looking at him, he’d also gotten himself captured.

He was in the cage.

The rotten, filthy, cage. The rusted bars bore into his skin, even though he was still wearing the dress that covered almost the entirety of his body. The lava below bubbled, and it made Luigi sick. The height made him dizzy.

He hated being here. It didn’t need to be said, and, well, it was a dungeon. You were supposed to hate being in it.

Luigi was the only one there. No one, not even one of the walking mushrooms, were chewing the bars. No one to talk to, even though the mushrooms weren’t exactly chatty. Luigi sat, tracing the red tipped and flaky metal with a gloved hand. 

They hadn’t lowered him that far, compared to last time. The last time Luigi had been here, he was barely even ten metres from the lava. His hair would smoke sometimes. He was always sweating, his cheeks red from the heat. He even had some mild burns on his face where he would look down at the molten mass below him. How long had he been there, last time? Maybe a few days. They all blurred together to him.

How long would he stay this time?

Luigi didn’t want to think about it.

He curled himself up against the bars of the cell. Time passed slowly. Agonisingly so. Last time, he was too scared to climb out and steal one of those clown cars. This time, it would be different. All he needed to do was believe. Yeah, believe. Like this was a kid’s movie. He can’t die. He’s a major character. Right…?

Yeah, major character. 

That didn’t help.

Luigi needs to focus. He has to figure a way out.

And what then?

What will you do next?

Go back?

Tell them you failed?

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

But what would he do then? Rot here? There must be another way.

oOo

His cage lurched up and Luigi nearly rolled over from the motion. He was going… up? What did Bowser want now? To torture him? Luigi shuddered at the thought. 

How long had he been here, this time?

An hour? Two?

It was hard to tell.

The cage pulled him slowly, slowly, upwards. At the top, it careened once again, almost sending Luigi flying. Not long after, more guards came and put shackles on him.

They brought him back to the room Luigi had seen earlier, with the magic tables and chairs. He was forced to sit at them once again, and the dress piled up around him. Shame licked at his gut. He should have never agreed to this. At least the guards didn’t say anything.

Once the guards left, almost a second later Bowser came in. It sat at the same place. Luigi noticed the score marks were gone from before.

“So.”

“So.” Luigi repeated.

“What was your plan?”

“My… Plan.”

Bowser pinched its nose. Muzzle? Temple? Whatever it was. Its other hand drummed on the table annoyingly. Its tail swished quitly behind it.

“Please, don’t repeat it to me.”

Luigi went silent. He thought. Should he try lying again? It didn’t work well last time and, in all honesty, doing it again might get him killed.

The silence became longer. And longer. Maybe if Luigi didn’t say anythin–

“Talk.”

“Uh… Hi?” Luigi said. Maybe Bowser forgot its question.

“Don’t think going silent is going to help you.”

“I… I Don’t.”

Yet again, another painstaking minute of silence.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk about your plan, at least tell me why you’re wearing Peach’s dress.” Bowser’s voice was edged, trying to figure out what Luigi’s plan was. A small amout of smoke started to drift out of its nose.

Luigi couldn’t let that happen. Not this early, at least.

“They thought–”

“Who’s they?”

“Peach. And… Mario.” Luigi didn’t need to tell him. Bowser had to have known, right? Who else could it be?

Bowser nodded at him, urging him to continue.

“Peach and Mario thought I could get… The ‘nice’ room Peach stays in so I wouldn’t have to go back to the cage.”

“And?” Bowser said. Sniffing out any information it could get its claws on. Luigi both admired and hated him for it.

“So you’d think I was Peach. So I could… Not be in the cage.”

And to memorise the layout of your castle. To record all of the guards, their posts, how often they switch. To figure out your flaws. Well, the non-obvious ones.

“Yeah, well, I think you fucked that up phenomenally.” Bowser stood, walking to Luigi.

“Will I… Have to go back to the cage?” 

“Yes. You're a prisoner after all.”

“Oh.” Bowser pulled out Luigi’s chair, and checked his shackles. Deeming them appropriate, he shoved him out the door.

“If it makes you feel better, you won’t be so low to the lava. And you’ll have a meal a day, and unlimited water.”

“... Thanks, I guess…” Luigi felt crummy. Only one meal? He’d starve. At least he’d get as much water as he wanted. Maybe he could pour it on the lava and cool it somehow.

“You’re welcome.” The door slammed shut behind him. At least the guards weren’t here yet. Luigi could at least enjoy the last few moments of freedom he had. Or whatever this was.

He slid down the door, did his best to wrap his gloved and shackled hands around his knees. He felt tears on his cheeks. Luigi didn’t care. 

He sat there for a while. He didn’t keep track of the time.

“Who are you?” A small voice said. 

Luigi looked up. A tiny lizard looked back. It had a small fire red plume on the top of its head, held together by a thick black hair tie. It wore a bandana with a red mouth painted on it, in a toothy grin. Besides that, it held a big plushie paintbrush. It looked like a miniature Bowser.

“Um… Hello… I’m–a Luigi.”

“Huh. Why are you wearing a girl’s dress? Are you a girl? Do you want to be a girl?” His head tipped in curiosity. The thick, yelllw tail behind him wagged like a dog.

“Well– Uh, it’s kinda a long story–” The tiny Bowser sat down, “–And I guess you have the time.”

Who was this kid? Were they kidnapped too? No, it’s a lizard. Maybe Bowser is running low on soldiers? Did all Bowser lizards look the same?

The door opened, and Bowser walked out. First he saw the tiny Bowser. 

“What are you doing here, Junior? Your bedtime was an hour ago. You should be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t.” The tiny Bowser (Junior?) pouted.

No. Not happening. Definitely not.

Bowser has a kid?

Really?

Is it even that suitable for even raising a child?

“Papa, I just met this funny lady. Maybe a man. His name is a-Luigi,–” 

“Just Luigi,” the plumber clarified.

“–They were going to tell me a story.” Bowser looked around worriedly for a moment, before Junior pointed at Luigi, and Bowser finally noticed him. Its eyes narrowed. Smoke rose out of its nose, and its tail lashed.

“ What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for the guards to come?”

Bowser pinched its nose again. He sure is doing that a lot. 

Not saying anything, he looked behind Luigi and crossed his arms. He motioned with one of his hands.

Luigi looked behind him, thinking the guards were here.

Oh.

The window was open.

So he could escape.

But instead Luigi waited, waited for the guards to come. Like he was told to do.

Bowser sighed.

“I am not going to let you just walk out the front door, you know.”

You should have left when I gave you the chance.

Junior looked at Luigi. “Can he stay, Papa? I promise to feed him and water him and take him on walks.”

“He is not a pet, Junior.”

“I’m not a pet.”

Bowser glared at Luigi. Luigi glared back. You talked over me. Bowser sighed and continued.

“You can’t keep him.”

“But whyyyyyyyyYYYyy.” Junior wailed, falling to his stomach.

“Listen: He Is Not A Pet.”

“AwwwWWWww please?”

“No, Junior, Go to bed.” Bowser was still unwavering. He picked up Junior and patted his back. Shell? Whatever.

Junior continued to glower, and tried to jump out of Bowser’s grip. Bowser swung him around once, making Junior laugh. He then remembered he was supposed to be angry and crossed his arms, saying “hmph.”

“You. Come on. I can’t leave you alone now. ” Bowser said to Luigi.

You can’t be trusted even with a freebie escape .

Luigi looked over the open window outside in regret, then followed Bowser to wherever he was going.

oOo

They went through twisting staircases and large halls, at one point Luigi thought they had turned themselves around as they had passed through the same dining hall twice.

The castle was giant, there was no mistaking that. But it was also surprisingly clean, and, in some places, empty. There were many conflicting styles, some dark and gothic while others more resembled Peach’s castle. Like they built around the still standing parts of the older fortress  when Mario and Luigi had torn them to shreds. 

It made him feel bad, in a way. This was his home, after all, and, not to mention he has a kid to raise. Maybe even more.

They climbed up another set of stairs, this one cramped and neatly lined with a purple carpet, unlike the red that was common everywhere else. The walls were still stone, yet a lighter gray than compared to most of the rest of the building. Luigi saw swinging fires that had been tamped down so they barely even blocked the path.

It was the first castle Mario ever destroyed. A piece of it, anyway. Maybe even the only one left.

At the top of the stairs lay a surprisingly large bedroom. 

It was a large, mainly stone room, with two large windows that were covered in the same purple curtains that lined the steps. In the middle sat a large bed with a wooden frame, piled with plenty of pillows and blankets. In one corner sat an easel with a variety of painting supplies and in another a batch of finished paintings, some still drying.

Bowser set Junior on the bed while Luigi awkwardly waited at the doorway. Bowser tucked in the sheet, making sure Junior was snug, and handed him his stuffie paintbrush.

“Can you sing me a song, Papa?”

Bowser was surprised for a moment, then said, “I… Don’t really sing anymore, Junior…”

There was a lot to unpack in those few words. Luigi kept that in the back of his mind, for later.

“Aww, PLEASE?”

Bowser sat at the sheets for a moment, twiddling a bit with his claws. He suddenly seemed very conscious of Luigi standing at the doorway.

‘I… Guess I can try…” He said after a while, which was met with cheers from Junior.

Luigi sat down by the door. When he was a kid, he’d have to be sung to and read to and then have a parent sit by him until he fell asleep. He was always scared of what could be in the dark, monsters and bad things. He still is, really. He was standing not far from one.

“When I was just a little girl, 

“I asked my mother, ‘what will I be?’”

Bowser’s singing voice was deep and melancholy, almost instantly Junior's eyes started to droop.

“Que será, será,

“Whatever will be, will be,

“The future’s not ours to see,

“Que será, será.”

Not even after he had finished the chorus, Junior had begun to sleep soundly. 

Even if he is a monster, he’s still a good Dad. However that works…

Luigi hated to admit it, but it was true. Time will tell, he guesses.

Bowser hummed the tune again, while he made sure Junior was all snug. Turning away from the lavish bed, he miraculously tip-toed to the door, without making a single sound. He wasn’t really tip-toeing– just stepping softly, but it still put a fun image in Luigi’s head.

“Come on, to the cage.”

Luigi couldn’t go back to the cage. It was horrible enough last time. He hated the dirty bars, the lava below, the stink of decay all around him. He wouldn’t go back, not this time.

“No.”

Bowser was surprised, surprised to see Luigi thinking on his own, probably. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, not in terror, but in interest. Gross.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You’re a prisoner I can’t just let you go willy nilly around the place!” Bowser said in a hushed whisper.

“You let Peach! Why am I any different?!” Luigi knew why, but he still wanted to hear his answer.

Bowser was stunned for a moment. His eyes were angry, and bored through Luigi.

“ Because, I can trust her not to escape as soon as my back is turned!” The obvious wasn’t said, which made him wonder if Bowser really liked her all that much. If he only kidnapped her out of convenience, or even just to keep up appearances.

“ YOU left a window open so I could escape!”

“You can’t even take a hint! I tried to let you go free! You just sat there, crying, for thirty minutes! I was starting to think you’d never notice! I only came out because I heard Junior and I sure as hell won’t trust any of my kids with you! ”

That got Luigi. Bowser was waiting? For him? To leave? How many kids does Bowser have?

“I don’t want to be housing a prisoner right now! You can’t even believe how expensive they are! It’s like taking care of a baby, for god sakes!”

They had both raised their voices and now at a slightly above average speaking level. Junior stirred. Neither of them noticed.

“Then why didn’t you send me away?!”

“That would ruin my reputation! I can’t just let someone go! They have to earn it!”

“YOU should have just pretended I was Peach and we would have never been in this situation!”

“YOU should be able to do what you are told better! I can’t just pretend that your wig nearly fell off! I have, as mentioned, A REPUTATION TO KEEP.”

“Papa, what are you talking about with Luigi?” Junior had woken up from their conversation.

“That I’M going to leave.” Luigi retorted, looking expectantly at Bowser.

“NO, YOU ARE NOT.” Bowser said, at the same time as Junior. 

Junior said it a bit nicer, in Luigi’s opinion.

“PAPA! WHY CAN’T LUIGI STAAAAY?!” Junior wailed, starting to cry big crocodile tears. Probably for dramatic effect.

“ BECAUSE, JUNIOR, I CAN’T JUST LET HIM LEAVE.”

“I BET YOU’D LET PEACH GO IF SHE WAS HERE.” Luigi was only yelling because everyone else was. 

“ONE: I HAVE A REPUTATION TO KEEP, TWO: NO, I WOULDN’T BECAUSE YOUR AREN’T PEACH, AND EVEN IF YOU WERE, I HAVE A REPUTATION TO KEEP! ”

“THEN WHAT WILL I HAVE TO EARN TO LEAVE? YOU SAID YOU LET PRISONERS GO IF THEY EARN IT! WHAT DO I HAVE TO EARN?”

“I. DON’T. KNOW.” Bowser screamed, putting his hands on his ears, as if he was trying to block out his own thoughts. He tugged at his hair, small red strands begging to pull free from his grasp.

“ I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I hate not knowing. I must know I must know I must know.” Bowser whispered to himself, like he was thinking out loud. He probably was.

Maybe Luigi could use this to his advantage.

“What if… I give all the information I have? On Peach, on Mario, whoever.”

That caught Bowser’s attention. He removed his hands from his ears, and his furry eyebrows were raised in comedic fascination.

“You’d give me… Everything? Everything you know?” Bowser said this barely above a murmur.

Luigi hesitated. It was nowhere near a fair bargain, and Bowser may not even follow through without putting Luigi in the cage. But he needed information. He had to try, at least.

“Yes… But you can’t put me in the cage. I won’t tell you anything if you do.”

Bowser was silent. He was contemplating the same question as Luigi.

“That’s not really fair, is it?”

“No.” But I can’t be in the cage, not again. I hate the cage. I hate it.

“I’ll think about it. You… You can stay in the guard’s quarters until I come up with a decision. At least it would be harder for you to escape.”

Luigi could have hugged Bowser, and really wanted to. This was almost exactly what he wanted– not only would he not be in the cage, he’d be right next to guards! What luck!

“Thank you.” Luigi held out his hand. Bowser paused, then took it, giving it a firm shake that nearly knocked him over.

“ARE YOU TWO DONE YET?” Junior yelled. He clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that they were done yelping at each other.

“Yes, Junior. Quiet down.”

“Can Luigi stay? I like him.”

Bowser sighed.

“Yes, he can stay.”

Chapter Text

You do not seem to hate him.

Hate him like you do his brother.

That is not true.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

Do you?

Yes. 

I do.

Do you?

Of course.

Why wouldn’t I?

He killed her.

His brother killed her.

He did not stop his brother.

So I hate him.

What if he could not?

Could not stop his brother?

What do you mean?

He could have.

He should have.

He would have.

Why?

Why?

Because he does what he is told.

That is not always true.

He yelled at you today.

I yelled at him.

That was an exception.

What if the brother did not listen?

They are brothers.

They listen to each other.

What if

What if

What if

What if it was an accident?

It was no accident.

She is dead.

I saw the axe.

It is their fault.

His brother especially.

But you do not hate him.

Not as much as your brother.

I do.

I hate him more than his brother.

He could have prevented her death.

You could have prevented her death.

But you were in another castle.

Waiting for her to return.

A return that never came to fruition.

What is your point?

What if he was in another castle?

What if the blood is not on his hands?

It is on both of their hands.

Regardless if he is not there.

They are brothers

They share their pain together.

They share their happiness together.

It is both of their faults.

Do you?

Do I what?

Do you hate him?

I do.

I do.

Do you?

I have to.

Why?

Because if I do not hate him, I do not hate his brother.

Why?

I must be fair.

Why?

If I am not fair I am not a good king.

Why?

I must be a good king.

Why? 

Why?

Why?

I must be a good king.

That is not a good answer.

Why?

It is her wish.

Her last wish.

That does not seem true.

It is.

I tell the truth.

I honour the truth.

You do not hate him.

That is the truth.

Will you not admit it?

I do.

I do hate him.

Then you could have made him leave out the window.

Why?

Why didn’t you?

I wanted him to feel like he did something on his own.

To feel the pride in his own victory.

You could have left him to escape

Why?

Why didn’t you?

Because then his victory would be sour.

No one likes a sour victory.

I know.

I know.

I know.

You could have thrown him, killed him, in the tower.

Why?

Why didn’t you?

My son was there.

I could not.

I would not.

I cannot.

Could not what?

Would not what?

Cannot what?

I could not do that to him.

Would he still love me?
After I killed an innocent man?

I cannot do that to him.

You said he was not innocent.

That he has blood on his hands.

Innocent blood, like you said, was his.

So do you?

Do you hate him?

I must be above killing the innocent.

Do you hate him?

I cannot stoop as low as they did.

But doesn’t it make him not innocent?

If he has blood on his hands?

Blood that is not his?

Not of his kind?

I…

I do not know.

So do you hate him?

Do you?

I do not know.

Will you not admit you do not hate him?

I do not hate him.

But I do not like him either.

So?

I do not want to imply I liked him.

Why does that matter?

I am not sure.

Do you like him?

No. 

I do not think so.

What should I do with him now?

I do not hate him,

But yet I do not like him either.

You need information.

I do.

How else would you get it, if not from him?

I had not thought of that.

You must be nice to him.

Why?

To get information.

The best information.

But I do not like him.

But yet you gave him a room?

I do not know why I did that.

It makes me angry.

It is not a good room, anyway.

It is not that different from the cage.

How will you know that he isn’t lying to you?

I am not sure.

Do you?

Do I what?

Do you trust him?

To give you the best information?

I have no choice.

I must trust him.

Or else I will fail.

You have failed.

Many times before.

What makes you think that you won’t fail this time?

Or many times in the future, after this?

I do not know.

I am not sure.

I have to trust him.

Somehow.

Somehow.

…

Chapter Text

Luigi awoke to the rustling of his sheets, and not long after, a violent shaking. He opened his eyes, his vision bleary, to see a very big Junior face in front of him.

Luigi yelped, and nearly jumped off the bed. Junior stared at him, smiling.

“HI LUIGI! LET’S GO PLAY!” Junior practically shouted in his ear, dragging him off the bed. He was surprisingly strong, but Luigi was surprisingly short. And small.

The blankets were still wrapped around Luigi, and they tangled him so he couldn’t even walk. He tugged them off, throwing them on the floor. The dress from yesterday was still on him, now more creased and dirty. 

The room Luigi had slept in wasn’t much different. It had brown, cracked stones as the walls, a dirt floor, and the bed barely even had a bed frame. Said frame was a large piece of stone slightly raised from the ground.

Everything was covered in dirt, and Luigi hated it. He doubted anything down here would be given an a-okay by a building inspector.

Junior had dragged him out from his grimy room, into a much better hallway. The guards that had been posted here the night before were gone, probably to go eat breakfast.

“Are all the rooms down here like this? Terrible and gross?” Luigi asked, as they continued to pass more and more doors.

“No, just yours. It’s from a different castle I think. All the other ones are really nice.”

Junior walked him into a room, and indeed they were. They weren’t to the majesty of Junior's, that was for sure, but they still held a much greater quality than what Luigi had.

They were barracks style, all with fluffy twin beds and soft pillows. There were at least six in this room, and a bathroom to boot. Not to mention the kitchen, the large window with velvet curtains, and the pool table. How could Bowser be so rich? Did he launder money, somehow? Luigi still wasn’t sure if this place had a common currency that reached beyond six blocks.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nah. This is one of the ‘worse’ ones anyway. The top generals get their own rooms and more stuff.” Junior pulled him out of the room again, leading Luigi to a set of red carpeted stairs.

“Why do I get a bad room?” Luigi murmured, but he knew the answer. He was a prisoner, not a soldier or anything. There was no reason to give him a nice room because he wasn’t all that valuable to Bowser anyways.

Junior gave him a tour of the goliath castle as Luigi was hauled through it.

“So here’s the library, and that’s the pool, and over there is the big kitchen where all the chefs cook and is so much bigger than the one in the room earlier I mean really big…”

Junior was talking so fast, it was hard for Luigi to keep up. It was like he was in a debate, and the only way to win was to speak at three hundred words a minute.

They came to rest in a big white and red room (seriously, what was with the crazy similarities to Peach’s castle? How obsessed can this guy be? ), with a race track in the corner. Along the walls sat easels and paint brushes, along with various art supplies. The gigantic windows gave the room plenty of light, four, maybe even five, metres tall.

About maybe seven more of the mini Bowsers were in the middle of the room, each of varying ages and heights. Like Luigi, Junior was definitely the shortest of the bunch. They all looked at Luigi suspiciously, with good reason.

“Hey, guys, look who I brought!”

“Junior, did you seriously bring one of Dad’s prisoners to play with us?” A large one said, having a very large star-shaped birthmark on his left eye.

“Dude, he could be… A creep or something. You know he only keeps prisoners in the cage and stuff if, like, they're freaky.” This one had blue hair.

“You guys really should have known better. He’s a kid.” Said another, with a bright pink bow, pearls, gold hoop earrings, lipstick, and heels. Ironically, she didn’t look much older than Junior did.

“You’re the same age as me!” Junior wagged an accusational finger at her.

“Nuh Uh!” She crossed her arms, turning away.

“Okay, everyone, let’s calm down.” The star one said, although no one had raised their voice above a normal speaking level.

“Anyways, this is Luigi, and–”

“I’m sorry, Luigi? Like, Mario’s brother? Dad’s sworn enemy?” Blue hair said, now eyeing Luigi even more suspiciously than before.

“Look, I’m not trying to cause any trouble–”

“We can’t trust you. Do you know how many times Mario had torn up our own castles? Dad won’t even let us walk five feet before having six guards tail us like we're babies.” Said the very pink one.

“Well, I’m not… I’m not Mario. And I don’t want to hurt you…” Luigi mumbled, tapping his fingertips.

“What if I use him for target practice? That might be fun.” Said a vastly larger Bowser, this one carrying a large cannon and wearing rose rimmed shades.

“No thank you.” Luigi chirped almost immediately. The thought of him being used like a live target or being strapped to the front of a bullet bull made him woozy. 

“Dude put him back where you found him.” Blue hair said, which was met with cheers of agreement from the other small Bowsers.

“Well, hold on, what does Boom-Boom think?” Star said, looking at the orange (apparently not one of Bowser’s kids like Luigi assumed), that was reading a book.

“Oh. Luigi? The kid can stay. If there weren’t guards at the door and Junior was able to just bring him here, that means Bowser doesn’t see him as a threat.”

Wow. That stings. Luigi thought, although he would much rather be here.

“Okay, so what do we do with him now?”

“I still say target practice.”

“Maybe we can make him play piano.”

“No, you will NOT.”

“How about we play a game with him?” Junior suggested, bringing up a whole new conversation.

“What about juggling?” 

“Cool circus tricks?”

“Target. Practice.”

“Racing.”

“Fashion show.”

This went on for several minutes as all the small Bowsers discussed which they should play. Sometimes an idea would be brought up, only to be forgotten about three seconds later.

“Um… Maybe we can just make a whole new game?” Luigi suggested, hoping to get the conversation going somewhere.

“With, like, what? Paper and glitter glue?”

“I like glitter glue!”

“He’s got a point, you know.”

“Dude, are you seriously saying that the crazy guy has a good idea?”

“I’m not wrong! It takes forever to make everyone agree on one thing anyways!”

“Maybe it would be better if we just made some game together to play.”

“Hey. Luigi.”

Luigi looked at the star kid, who had called him.

“Since it was your idea, you may as well help us make it.”

“Oh. Okay, sure. Do you guys have any craft supplies? More than just paper?”

Blue hair scoffed.

“Dude, of course we do. Our Dad’s, like, rich.”

Blue hair went over to one of the walls, this one filled with drawers and buckets with various supplies in them. He picked up the heaviest one and dumped it on the floor, grunting while doing so.

Crayons, various sizes of paper, paints, brushes, markers, pencils, rulers, and hot glue guns spilled out onto the floor.

“Okay, then. Let’s make some rules!”

It took about thirty minutes for everyone to agree on the set of rules Luigi had come up with, along with major tweaks and adding more of them. There was a lot of ‘can we use Luigi as target practice if I win’ (The name had not been spoken, but it was pretty obvious).

“So… Are there more of you hiding under the floorboards I should know about? How many of you are there?” Luigi had asked when they had started to write down the rules.

“Okay, so, there’s Morton, Wendy, Ludwig, Lemmy, Iggy, Roy, and Junior, which you already met. So seven in total.” Blue hair said, pointing at each of the little Bowsers, respectfully.

“Larry, did you count yourself?” Asked Morton.

‘Dude, of course I did.” He counted again. “See? Seven.”

Morton pointed at Larry “ Eight.”

This went on for several minutes. Larry finally gave up and walked to the corner to pout. Morton continued his speech in his absence.

“Boom-Boom is just our babysitter. He doesn’t do much though, since I’m the oldest.” Boom-Boom gave a thumbs-up in the corner, still reading.

“So… Are all of you his kids? Like, biologically? Who’s the Mum? Or Mums, maybe.”

“Nah, we’re all adopted except for Junior. So yeah, all different Mums.”

“That’s cool.” Luigi didn’t really know what to say to that. There really isn’t much you can really say without being rude, is there?

They continued like normal, after that. All of the kids (they collectively called themselves ‘the Koopalings,’ pretty adorable), seemed to like him just fine and at least weren’t trying to use him as target practice anymore.

oOo

Finally, after a few hours, they had completely finished the game. More than once they had to go back to the drawing board because the Koopalings didn’t like a rule or two. It was quite the debate if they should have a roulette round. 

In total, their game included fifty rules, three alternative game modes (solo, party, or festa, which was just party in Italian. No one seemed to care when Luigi brought it up). It was a candyland type of game, get to the end as quickly as possible. It included: art contests, ice skating, kart racing, and, unfortunately, not live target practice. Luigi really dodged a bullet with that one.

They were just about to play when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“I was able to get some time off this afternoon, Kamek is going to take over the rest of the day. How’s everything holding u–”

Bowser stopped, taking notice of a very pink-clad human that was standing in front of him.

“Who let him out?” Bowser put his hands on his hips, now frowning at each of the Koopalings.

The crowd parted like Moses and the red sea. Junior was left in its wake.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“Junior, I already told you no. Put him back where you found him.” Bowser gestured to the door, wide arm sweeping in an arc.

“But, Papa, he helped us make a game! A really fun one! Right, Morton?” Junior looked over at him, and the Koopalings once again parted, letting him step forward.

“Yes, he did. He’s really nice, sir.” He said, his hands straight at his sides and his back straight, like he was a soldier in an army.

Luigi was tremendously thankful to have Morton vouch for him. He’d have to make sure to tell him later.

Morton was met with cries of agreement from the other Koopalings.

“He let me have an ice-skating contest in it!”

“There’s kart-racing!”

“I couldn’t use him for target practice.”

Luigi spun on Roy, “Seriously, what is it with you and using me as target practise?”

Roy shrugged, still carrying that large cannon of his. His shades shifted, slightly.

“I don’t care if he made you guys a fun game, he’s a prisoner! I can’t let him walk all over the place!” Bowser, again, pinched his nose.

“Then put more guards around him! We like him! He’s really kind and really listens!” Said Lemmy, again met with noises of approval.

“Okay, vote for Luigi to stay, raise a hand.” Morton said.

Every Koopaling raised their hand, even Boom-Boom, although Roy was a little hesitant. 

Very single-minded, that one.  

Luigi also raised his.

“Okay, that’s nine, not counting Luigi, for obvious reasons. Now everyone who disagrees.”

A few moments passed, and Bowser raised a hand. He was the only one.

“One.” Morton counted, “Well, that's the majority. Sorry, you’ve been outvoted.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Seriously, even you don’t agree with me?” Bowser said at Boom-Boom, still reading his book.

“Look, the kid didn’t cause any trouble, and I couldn’t even smell one slightly malicious thought on him. Like it or not, he’s a saint.”

“I am not a kid. I am twenty-seven years old!” Luigi said to him. Boom-Boom shrugged.

“Yeah, whatever, and I'm three-hundred.” He replied. 

“Ah. Nevermind.” Luigi turned back to Bowser.

“ I cannot believe I am losing to my own children.” Bowser whispered, once again pinching his brow. That’s gotta hurt at some point, especially if he has claws.

“ Fine. But do not tell anyone. AND , Luigi will be staying the night in the cage. Everyone here needs to learn an important lesson.”

No. Not the cage. Anything but the cage. His face paled. Luigi is half sure Boswer noticed.

“And don’t think you can change my mind either, Greenie, or else it will be two nights.”

Luigi’s brain went in three different directions. Even the Koopalings shared a look, Junior just looking confused. Boom-Boom even stopped reading his book to give a very judgy look up at Bowser.

Greenie. What was that, a pet name? Weirdo.

I should try escaping. I have enough information, maybe.

Of course. I’m just the Green Mario to him, aren’t I? Nothing will get me out of his shadow.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Bowser motioned to the door, leaving no chance but for Luigi to follow. As soon as the door shut behind them, it erupted into muffled conversation. No doubt about whatever Bowser just called him earlier. Luigi decided not to mention it, also making sure to be a few steps behind Bowser so he could run away easily. Not like it worked out well before.

“About the–”

“Never call me that again.”

Chapter Text

Why did you call him that?

Greenie?

It is not an untrue statement.

He wears green.

Much like I have a green shell.

So he would call you Greenie?

No.

He would not.

Why?

I did not mean to say it.

That is untrue.

You honour the truth.

It

It

It slipped out.

How?

I am not sure.

Stop asking.

I have not the answers you seek.

Do you like him?

No.

No.

I do not like him.

Not then.

Not now.

Not in the future.

This feels like an untrue statement.

I do not like him.

And would you tell me?

If you did?

No.

There is no reason to.

As I do not like him.

What if you did like him?

Would you tell me?

Would you admit it to yourself?

Yes.

Why?

Because I honour the truth.

I hate lies.

They do nothing but hurt.

Did you like calling him that?

I 

I 

I…

I think so.

It was easier to say than his name.

Why?

I do not know 

Why can I not say his name anymore?

Is there something wrong with me?

No.

This is normal.

What do you mean, ‘normal?’

You will understand soon enough.

Understand?

I feel no reason to tell you.

You will figure it out, by yourself.

And if I don’t?

You will.

I honour the truth.

So then you must honour the truth.

Do I hate him that much?

That his name brings an inescapable fury?

No.

Do I

Do I

Do I like him?

No.

It is greater than that.

You will understand.

Eventually.

Chapter Text

Rotten. Scuzzy. Rusted. Dirty. No, Filthy. The reek of mildew. 

All-too-accurate ways to describe the cage.

The bars seem to loom over Luigi as he tries to shy away from them. He couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die. 

He felt tears streaming down his face. He wished time would go faster, that he could be freed from this awful, putrid, prison. His eyes grew heavy, the tears starting to fall slower, his breathing becoming easier. 

One last helpless hiccup, and he was out.

oOo

Luigi awoke to the screeching of chains above him as pulled upward in a sickening motion. He slowly climbed, his cage sometimes swinging slightly on the way there. His stomach heaved as the cage came to a halting stop. A Koopa walked to the cage, pulling out a large, red tinged key. He shoved it into the lock, letting the large cage swing open in a large arc a few moments later.

Another guard pulled Luigi to his feet and guided him to the only door he could see. They traversed the grand hallways again, coming to stop at a large oak door. Maybe, Luigi really only knew one kind of tree.

“Bowser is inside. He will guide you to your new room.” One of the Koopas said, walking away. Luigi swore he heard a “thank goodness he’s Bowser’s problem now” and a few other words he cared not to listen or mention.

Luigi pulled open the lofty wooden doors, and he nearly fell over while doing so. They were nearly tall as a house, and weighed about a ton. Finally able to open one maybe a metre or so, he rushed inside before they could slam shut again.

It was an enormous dining room, with ornate ceilings and at least eight large windows that covered two walls. In the centre sat a large table, ridiculously long with a lone candelabra in the centre, with gilded chairs that had smaragdine velvet cushions.

A large, red haired head peeked from the candelabra.

“What are you doing here?” Bowser asked, not angry, but rather, curious. 

“The… Guards said you were giving me a new room…?” 

Bowser sat there for a moment, then pinched his nose for the millionth time. He said something along the lines,’ Dammit Chris can you not do a single thing around here.’

Bowser shook his head, then pulled out the chair next to him. “Well, you might as well eat. I’ll go talk to the cook to bring you something.” And with that he left, padding off to where the kitchen was in this labyrinth of a castle.

Luigi sat in the chair Bowser pulled out for him, and kicked his legs waiting for his return. He looked over at Bowser’s plate, housing a fried egg, two sausage patties, a wad of cream cheese, and two slices of toast smeared to death with avocado.

Not long after he had left, Bowser returned carrying a plate that had the same items that were on his own. He set it down in front of Luigi with a small clink. He then took his own seat, munching on a piece of avocado toast.

Luigi picked up the fork that sat as his place setting, and hesitated. What if it’s poisoned? Or if Bowser will throw him against a wall as soon as he takes a bite? What if–

“Go on. Eat.”

“...Okay.” He didn’t really have a choice either way. He was way too hungry. Luigi impaled a sausage with his fork, then ate it. 

It was amazing. 

He doesn’t care if there’s poison in there, Luigi would die happy after eating it.

“This is pretty good. Um… Compliments to the chef.” Luigi said, stuffing his face full of fried egg. ‘Pretty good,’ was an understatement, but he was also eating food from the enemy. There are only so many compliments he can give.

“Oh. Thanks.” Bowser said between bites.

‘Oh, thanks?’ 

Hold on.

“You… Didn’t make this, did you?”

Bowser hesitated. “Yes? The cooks weren’t up yet” His fuzzy eyebrows knit together.

“Oh…” Come on Luigi, you made him think his food sucks, “Its… It's really good!”  Luigi smiled, taking another bite.

“Happy you liked it.” Bowser murmured around a piece of toast. Luigi could’ve sworn that one of his lips twitched upward slightly.

Their breakfast was eaten in almost complete silence, except for a quiet clinking of silverware and cups. And the tapping of Bowser’s claws.

In short, unbearably awkward.

Thankfully, Bowser broke the tense stillness by abruptly standing up, making both their plates rattle slightly. He cleared his throat.

“ Ahem, Let me show you to your room.” He gesticulated toward the grandiose doors, signaling for Luigi to follow.

Luigi grabbed the remaining piece of toast on his plate, munching on it as they took a set of stairs by the dining room.

oOo

They arrived at their destination after, what Luigi could describe as, an unending maze of turnarounds and hastily built walls,  and a few too many of the red and white spotted carnivorous plants.

They came to a stop to a wooden door (made of an unknown wood), much smaller like the one in the dining room. Bowser pulled open one, letting Luigi see his guest quarters.

It was a huge, gaping room. The windows surrounded almost all sides except the entrance, and were bordered by ever larger wine-red curtains, bordered with gold. The floors were mostly a white marble, with strands of grey. The only part of the floor that wasn’t marble was by the bed, in which it was replaced by a soft, plush carpet, the same colour as the marble. The bed itself was covered in the same colour red as the curtains. It held three large pillows, a large comforter, and most likely two extra blankets under that.

“There’s not a kitchen in here, but the cooks will bring you meals or you can go to the dining hall if you please.”

“You really didn’t have to do all this–”

Bowser held up a large, scaly hand. “No need to complain. My mind’s set, anyway. You’ll be staying here awhile, so you might as well get a nice room.”

“Thank you. Really, I mean it.” Luigi smiled, although it wasn’t noticeable through his moustache.

“Yeah, well, we did make a deal. I’m hoping this is more fair than keeping you in that dirt hut. But, that also means you’ll have to hold up your end, as well. I’ll get you tomorrow and we’ll have an interrogation, interview, whatever you want to call it. You have to tell me everything about everyone you know, your brother, Daisy, whoever.”

Weird that he didn’t mention Peach. Or he can’t seem to call Mario by his name.

“Will I still be able to play with the Koopalings? I could be a… Free babysitter or something.”

Bowser put his hands on his hips, looking away. He sighed.

“Fine. After the interview though. AND, you’ll have extra guards around you, just in case.”

“Hey! I’ve proven myself more than trustworthy! I don’t need your guards to be babysitting me!”

Bowser began to walk over to him. “Look, I don’t trust you. I don’t think you’d take care of my kids out of the ‘kindness of your heart–,’” this was met with air quotes, and a very sarcastic, high pitched voice that was probably supposed to mimic Luigi’s, “–or whatever other bullshit you’re trying to pull. I know damn well you are up to something, trying to get information for some master plan, and until I figure out what that plan is, and that you won’t try to kill my kids or worse, you get extra guards, around the clock. I don’t give a damn that you disagree.”

They were now maybe a few dozen centimetres from each other, Bowser still arms akimbo. He leaned down.

“And if you do, you can consider this deal over and go back home, tail between your legs to tell Peach and Mario you failed.”

Luigi shrunk from his gaze. He avoided eye contact, like he always does in situations like this. His arms hugged his side, trying to make himself smaller. Bowser’s eyes bore through him, trying to find out what he was up to.

“... Sorry.” Luigi said, hoping his big head would get out of his face. He did mean it, though, and that was the worst part.

For a moment, only a mere split-second, Luigi could have sworn that Bowser’s eyes widened at this word, and the honesty it contained. But it disappeared just as fast, and he looked away so Luigi couldn’t see his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, Bowser left. Luigi could hear his soft footsteps padding down the hallway, to somewhere else important.

Luigi closed the door. He was so, so, tired. He hadn’t slept well in days. He walked over to the bed in the big space, and collapsed on it. His muscles ached and his head hurt from being in the cage. The bed was soft, made of velvet and silk. Its sheets smelled like roses, for some reason.

I should take a shower. I probably stink as bad as–