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pinkcreamypeach · 4 months ago

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This is my first time remaking a this story from a year ago! I wanted to retell this story within my non-canon, reimagined Mario AU, where I’ve changed both the lore and character designs. So, rather than just redesigns, these stories are full reimaginings. For this rewrite, I revisited the adorable idea of young Princess Peach and young Mario meeting for the first time as teenagers. In this version, Mario is 14, and Peach is 15. I also made Peach French, so you’ll see her speaking the language throughout the story.I hope you all enjoy this remake of my story, originally written on August 5th, 2024, and now rewritten on March 8th, 2025!

A quite young meeting

It was 7:30 PM. The sky had darkened, the streetlights casting pale, flickering halos onto the cracked pavement. A young preteen boy sat hunched over on the concrete curb, his elbows digging into his knees. His body trembled not from the cold, but from the raw anger clawing its way up his throat. His knuckles, bruised and split open, twitched slightly as he stared down at them, watching his fingers flex involuntarily. The pain barely registered anymore.

They jumped him again. Three against one. Bigger. Older. Stronger. He never stood a chance. His fresh start in high school was already a joke and Luigi’s bullies made sure of that.

His chest heaved as he pulled out the switchblade, flipping it open with a quiet snick. The steel blade caught the dim glow of a streetlight, the dried blood and dirt on it dulling its usual shine. He hadn’t wanted to use it. But he had to.

They took his bookbag. Probably tossed it in the river like last time. His mom would have to buy new supplies. New clothes. New everything. Again.

His fingers curled tighter around the handle, his grip shaking. His teeth clenched hard enough to make his jaw ache, and the sharp sting in his mouth reminded him of his chipped tooth. His breath hitched as he rubbed his bloody nose with his sleeve, smearing red across his skin. His left eye throbbed, the swelling already making it difficult to see. The mascara he had carefully put on that morning was now ruined mixed with sweat, tears, and blood.

His breath came out in ragged bursts, rage and humiliation twisting inside his stomach like a festering wound. His voice broke into a low, hate-filled murmur.

"Li odio, cazzo... Li odio... Ooh, li odio..."

His head shook violently, his matted hair sticking to his forehead. He could still hear their laughter ringing in his ears. Still feel their fists slamming into his ribs, their jeers about his brother about him. First, they took Luigi’s leg braces, leaving him stranded at home, unable to make it to school. Now they had to make sure he suffered too.

His vision blurred not from tears, but from fury so intense it made his body feel like it was on fire. His breath came faster, sharper, his hands curling into fists so tight his nails dug into his palms.

"CAZZO!"

The word tore from his throat, raw and guttural. His bruised nose flared as he inhaled sharply, pain shooting through his face, but he didn’t care. He wiped at it with his sleeve, staining the fabric redder, darker. His whole body burned, his shoulders heaving, his chest tightening.

Then his phone rang.

The sudden vibration in his pocket made him flinch, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out with shaky fingers, the cracked screen flashing a name he knew all too well.

weegee.

His breath hitched. His brown eyes dulled.

Of course.

His lips curled into a bitter sneer, his thumb hovering over the screen. He let it ring. And ring. And ring. Each buzz sent another jolt of irritation through him, his fingers twitching as they clenched around the device.

"Shut up..." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The ringing continued. Again. And again. Each vibration against his palm felt like it was hammering his skull, pushing him further into the abyss of his frustration. His grip tightened.

"Shut up... shut up..."

The phone wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.

His rage boiled over, white-hot and unbearable. His arm shot back, his fingers curling around the phone like a vice. His muscles tensed, ready to slam it against the concrete, to hear it shatter into a thousand tiny pieces, to silence it for good.

"SHUT U—!"

But his breath caught in his throat.

His arm froze mid-swing. His wild, furious eyes lifted and met another pair staring straight at him.

A girl.

Standing there. Watching him.

His fingers went slack around the phone. His chest heaved, the anger still burning inside him, but suddenly... it wasn’t the only thing he felt.

His eyes locked onto her cornflower blue, impossibly blue, like someone had stolen a piece of the sky and stuck it in her face. He had never seen anything that blue in real life. As the blonde girl's eyes widened in confusion and concern, she glided toward him, her dress somehow reminding him of both a peach and Cinderella at the same time. Weird.

Panic shot through him. He wiped his nose aggressively and turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see the damage.

??- "Mon dieu, are you in distress?"

Oh. Oh no. Mario immediately regretted every decision leading up to this moment. He couldn’t look at her because she was too pretty. Instead, he rubbed his knees like a total weirdo.

"What does it look like?" He grumbled, way harsher than intended. The moment it left his mouth; he cringed so hard he wanted to crawl into a hole.

??- "There is no need for such hostility, mon cher. Whatever has assaulted you must have been quite formidable."

She absentmindedly played with her hands, while Mario stole a glance at her profile. Yep. Even the side of her face was annoyingly pretty. Reluctantly, he turned his full head toward her.

"Heh, yeah… three big dipsh—" He stopped. No, commit. "Three big dipshits.”

He figured that’d scare her off. Fancy girls probably didn’t like crude humor.

But instead, she snorted.

??- "You are quite the uncouth little rascal, non?"

His eyebrows shot up. Huh. Didn’t see that coming.

“Well, getting my brains knocked around kinda made my brain go... cuckoo." He spun his finger in circles near his head and made a ridiculous face.

She giggled again. A genuine giggle.

??- "You remind me of someone, heh..."

"Is that a good thing or…?"

??- "Mais oui... a very good thing."

Then she got a proper look at his face and gasped dramatically.

??- "Oh mon dieu! Is that blood!? And your eye! It is the color of an overripe grape!"

Before he could protest, she was already reaching into some invisible pocket of elegance and pulling out a handkerchief.

"Nah, I’m good. Mio padre can do worse—wait—" Abort. ABORT. That joke sounded so much worse out loud.

Regret hit him like a truck as he broke into a nervous sweat. But then softness. A delicate, perfumed handkerchief pressed against his nose.

Peaches. Vanilla. Strawberries. Oh.

Most importantly, he could feel her hand holding it. Her fingers, soft and gentle, like he was some fragile little prince who needed tending to.

His brain was completely short-circuited.

"Uh… what are you… doing?"

??- "Why, wiping your nose, silly."

She smiled.

Oh. Oh, he was so done for.

“Tell me, what is your name?"

Mario was too busy staring. Too busy panicking. The blonde princess was looking right at him, her blue eyes searching his face with a soft, almost knowing expression. And his face oh no his face was getting redder by the second.

Without thinking, he blurted out the absolute worst thing possible.

“P-pretty face."

Silence. His stomach dropped.

His mouth snapped shut so fast he nearly bit his tongue. What the hell?! His brain was screaming at him as he gritted his teeth in pure self-loathing. Why had he said that?!

"Heh… pretty face? That is a most unusual name, non?"

She giggled actually giggled with a faint pink dusting her cheeks. Then, to make things worse, she gently pressed the soft handkerchief against his chest, tilting her head playfully.

“Shall I guess your true name then? Hm… what shall it be…tomato face?" She smirked.

Mario rolled his eyes, but that only made it worse because his face was still burning. And then she leaned in, her golden hair catching the light, her perfume filling his head with peaches and vanilla.

He had exactly one second to get himself together.

“And let me guess Peaches? You’re covered in them."

He shot back with a smirk, trying to sound cool. Like he wasn’t seconds away from losing all sense of self-respect.

The princess looked amused. Way Too amused.

“Ah… you are quite perceptive. In truth, they call me Peach. Or rather…Princess Peach." She clasped her hands together with a graceful little nod. “Now, it is your turn, mon cher."

Mario swallowed.

"…Mario. My name’s Mario."

"Ah! What a charming name!" She clapped her hands together, looking genuinely delighted.

And then she stepped back.

Mario inhaled sharply. Wait. Was he holding his breath?

The moment she moved away, he realized just how intoxicating her perfume was like peaches, vanilla, and something sweeter. He suddenly felt very aware of himself. Of his messy hair. His raggy clothes. The fact that she smelled like a literal princess, and he probably smelled like sweat and regret.

“You are quite charmant..." Peach mused, gazing down at him as she gracefully stood, dusting off her dress with delicate hands.

Mario, still sitting there like an idiot, felt his heart do an uncomfortable little flip.

But then, just as quickly as she smiled, her expression softened with something more somber.

“Alas, I must take my leave… My père and mère await me at the castle."

She sounded regretful, but there was a quiet acceptance in her voice, like she was used to walking away from things. Meanwhile, Mario? Not so much. His stomach sank.

And then she turned.

"No!"

The word burst out before he could stop it. He reached out instinctively, fingers wrapping around her wrist.

Peach froze, her golden hair bouncing slightly as she turned her head toward him.

Oh crap

Mario’s breath caught in his throat. The moment his brain caught up with his body, he *immediately* let go, jerking his hands back like he’d just grabbed a live wire.

“Uh—I mean—!" He panicked, rubbing his knees together as he scrambled for any kind of save. His eyes darted to the handkerchief in his hand, yes! Perfect excuse! He held it up like it was some rare artifact.

“Y-you forgot this!" He plastered on the most awkward, painfully nervous smile of his life.

Peach blinked at him. Then, to his absolute horror, she giggled.

"Oh, mon cher… you may keep it." She waved a hand with effortless grace. “It is already adorned with your blood, after all. Consider it a token… I trust you shall care for it well."

She smiled once more, then turned, stepping away into the night.

Mario looked at the handkerchief. Then at her.

And then she was gone.

His breath hitched. He blinked, looking around. What? One second, she was there, the next poof.

His wide eyes softened as a small, stunned smile crept onto his face.

"Man… I’m such a loser… Falling for a girl I’m never gonna see again."

He let out a quiet, self-deprecating snort. But as he looked back down at the handkerchief in his grip, something in him shifted. He squeezed it just a little tighter, his smile growing.

Tilting his head back, he stared up at the moon, the night air cooling his still-warm face.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he barely noticed.

"Santo cielo… I have a crush..." He whispered to himself, grinning like an absolute fool.

Princess Peach… whoever you are… Thank you.

You ridiculously pretty princess.

@mikibaby94 (Hope you like this. This story was a remake)

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