#mario part 2

[ellenent]

mario party 2 wizard peach! 🌟

[xx-akubara-xx]

MEGA UPLOAD - pages 21-40

PART 1

(You are on Part 2)

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

And still more to come.

[pianokantzart]

The One To Blame

A one shot based off this discussion, so I hold @a-la-orilla-del-rio and @istadris responsible.

UPDATE: It has expanded past being a one shot and is now available on A03, (or you can continue reading it here on Tumblr): Part 2 Part 3

______ Luigi hid amongst the jagged stone and brutish architecture of Bowser's castle, thankful for the large collection of self-aggrandizing statues that provided the perfect cover, creating long dark shadows and small cramped corners he could hide in. At the same time, the decor pricked at old memories that he struggled to push aside: bound and frightened, disoriented and confused, dragged by aching wrists to where he and Bowser first met face to face. Luigi would’ve been happy to stay a thousand miles away from The Darklands for the rest of his life, but he couldn't allow his brother to embark on this rescue mission all by himself. Even if Luigi knew for certain that Mario didn't need his help, he wished to do everything in his power to see to Princess Peach's safe return. She had put her life on the line to save him once before, it was only right to do the same for her.

Luigi's head began to ache from unreleased adrenaline as he crept along the edges of the throne room, slowly venturing near enough to hear the group of voices gathered around Bowser. The small plumber tentatively peeked out from obsidian pedestal of one of the statues, and observed the unfolding scene. The King of The Koopas stood at the base of his towering throne of masonry and wrought iron, Kamek at one side, and on his other side Princess Peach, locked in an enormous gilded cage of rose gold, filled with plush pink furniture. She was safe. Unhappy, of course, but unharmed. Luigi allowed himself a quiet sigh of relief.

Bowser was commiserating with a squadron of paratroopers, the most highly decorated of them fluttering at the forefront, eye-to-eye with the king.

"The Prison Ship was forced to make an emergency landing near The Valley Fortress,” the soldier explained with a salute. “Word got back that Mario has disappeared, but he couldn’t have gone far! We'll recapture him soon enough."

Hearing this, Luigi couldn't help but smile. The Prison Ship was where he and Mario were forced to split up. It was where Luigi had no choice but to run for the sake of his own survival and leave his big brother behind. Mario did his best to ease Luigi's fears, swearing his own safety and promising that he'd figure out a plan. It appeared Mario was true to his word, and now Bowser's forces were running themselves ragged trying to track him down. It was as good a spur-of-the-moment plan as any: Mario would hold the attention of The Dark Lands while he– Luigi – freed Princess Peach. They’d escape the castle, regroup with Mario, and find their way back to The Mushroom Kingdom. Simple. Easy. No problem.

The paratrooper proved himself worthy of his position as he remained firm in his saluting position, not even flinching as Bowser began to shout.

"Don't recapture him! Sparing him at all was a mistake! Give the order to kill on sight!" "No!" The harsh voice of Princess Peach, normally so calm and gentle, was startling to hear as she slammed her fists against the cage door. The sincerity in her upset appeared to flip a switch in Bowser's manner, evoking something resembling sympathy. He dismissed his troops, and as they fluttered out of the room Bowser turned to his beloved, hands held out plaintively.

"Peaches! I know it's hard to accept, but this is what is best for us, I promise you!" "Us?!" Peach huffed, struggling to maintain her royal composure. "There is no us! Ever since we've met you have done nothing but try to destroy everything I care about!" "Exactly! we've been fighting each other for so long when we should have been fighting for each other! You didn't even have time to recognize my good qualities, just like it took me so long to finally recognize yours..." He looked almost pitiable, big-eyed and pleading as he kneeled down and held his hands over his heart. "But you'll see! I'll prove to you how much of a match we are. You'll forget those silly, fleeting feelings you had for Mario-" "No! I… There are no feelings, Bowser!" Luigi couldn't help but feel Peach's voice lacked conviction, but he hoped that the draconic tyrant would take her for her word as she continued... "We're friends. Just friends, don't you understand? And Mario doesn't love me either. The only reason he ever accompanied me was because he was worried about his brother."

A strange silence hung in the air. Luigi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Peach placed her hands to her mouth in slow realization of the dangers of what she'd just said. Before she could make an effort to undo her mistake, Bowser broke the silence.

"His brother... Luigi," he muttered in a voice thick with revulsion. "So, he's the one Mario told you he was after? And if the gossip that floats between your palace guards is worth believing, Luigi is also the one who first discovered the warp pipe that led to our world."

"Bowser, please don't." Peach begged, "he's my friend too." "Why!?" Luigi couldn't help but cover his ears as Bowser's voice shook the throne room. Smoke poured from his nostrils, his chest heaving with rage. "He didn't train with you! He didn't travel alongside you! He didn't go to the ends of the earth to win you over! All he ever did was jump in at the last second to save Mario!" That final sentence triggered a fresh wave of anger. His eyes flashed red, clawed hands curling in front of him like he was trying to wring an invisible throat. "Mario. I'd have already killed him if it wasn't for his stinkin' brother! I knew he was trouble since he first snuck into my territory... speaking to me like I was an idiot! Telling lies!... Telling me that I... I wasn't good enough for you!" And just like that, his fearsome roars tapered off into the whimpering tone of a spurned teenager. Luigi– backing a little further into the shadows cast by the stone– never felt so confused in his life. Hearing a creature of such fearful, unrestrained power act so hurt over a mere insult was bewildering in and of itself, but Luigi was certain he hadn’t said anything like that. He still couldn't quite remember how that conversation went... the memory was too terrifying to recall between the moment he admitted his brother's name and the moment he was thrown to the floor, but surely he didn’t say that!

Then, beyond the haze of confusion, a new realization dawned on him… Kamek had been awfully silent. Luigi glanced about the throne room, slowly realizing that he had been so focused on Peach and Bowser’s conversation that he didn’t see where Kamek had disappeared to. That was when an innate sense of danger pricked at his heart, and a familiar voice spoke from behind him: “Well well well! Speak of the devil…” On instinct Luigi ducked to the side, dodging a blast of magic that would have rendered him immobile. With equal swiftness, he followed it up with a kick to Kamek’s hand that sent his wand flying across the room. Luigi would’ve congratulated himself for his quick reflexes, had the heavy thud of fast-approaching footsteps not robbed him of all sense of victory.

The struggle was brief. A clawed hand came down, narrowly dodged. Luigi flinched and stumbled as bits of rubble from the damaged statue pelted his face, and that moment of half-blindness was all that Bowser needed. Next thing Luigi knew, a familiar, scaly palm clamped down around his torso and lifted him into the air, squeezing so tight he couldn’t even take a breath.

 “Kamek!” Bowser’s voice called. “Yes, sire?” The wizard asked meekly, fixing his glasses and rubbing his sore hand while crossing the room to recollect his wand. “Keep an eye on my bride to be. I have a score to settle” Luigi felt his body jolted about like a ragdoll with every step Bowser took toward the doors leading out of the room. The plumber struggled, kicking his feet and twisting his body, trying to wrench himself free until Bowser’s grip tightened further, and Luigi’s inability to breathe turned into a sharp pain that made him fear being snapped in half. He went passive then, falling limp in hopes of buying himself some time. Head bowed, he stared hopelessly at Princess Peach as the distance between them grew wider. He mouthed an attempt at an apology. The Princess stretched a hand through the bars, as though if she strained against her cage hard enough she could break through and come to his aid. “Don’t hurt him! Please!” she begged. “We’re both royals, aren’t we? Let’s negotiate! Bowser!”

Her words went unheeded. She only had time to call Bowser’s name once more before her voice was cut off by the heavy doors slamming shut, leaving Bowser alone with his new scapegoat clasped tightly in the palm of his hand.

[slaket-and-sprash]

The "video game women aren't sexy anymore" discourse is so funny to me. Like bro you find people attractive because of their physical appearance and only their physical appearance? Damm that's kinda cringe bro. I'm horny for a chubby cartoon turtle because he's dumb as shit but is still kinda a jerk but has a heart of gold.

[vinesauce-spogooter]

[peaches2217]

ew what that anon said was really yucky wtf, I do have a mareach question if this cheers you up

If Peach and Mario do have a kid, what would the name be if it's a boy or if it's a girl?

I’m glad I’m not the only one weirded out by it, like 😭😭😭

Admittedly I’m… not the greatest with names. I’ve written how many stories about them being parents? and still haven’t actually elaborated on my fankid, much less what her name is, because she has a name and a reasoning behind it, but it’s Very Cringy.

But! The predominant two name themes I see in other’s fankids is 1.) traditional Italian names and 2.) fruit names (and sometimes the two mixed together), and I really like both of those 🥹 I think either one is really cute, and a fun continuation of either parent’s name theme!

[thecrypticshyguy]

Heyyyy

So we all know @t1ckity-t0ck s Political Marriage au right

Welllll

I wrote something for it actually (and drew something for it, it's old so don't mind some flaws and changes in character designs)! A minific if you will- without further adu lemme show it to yall

UnFair

Ludwig bit the bottom of his lip, furrowing his brow as frustration gnawed at him. He was tired and felt terrible. He felt used, worst of all.

Years of preparation, everything was going so well, everything was ready to be handed off to him in a few years tops, but no. It just wasn’t that simple, was it? Some kingdom he's never heard of comes from nowhere, asserting themselves, and now he's forced into a loveless marriage. It made him utterly bitter. It made his cold blood boil that he was being used as a mere pawn for a political marriage he had no ability to object. They could’ve chosen any of his siblings, any that could’ve been better off, but they didn’t. They chose him of all people. He was told it was for a good cause, for resources, for armies, for "peace" so that they didn’t kill each other. He couldn’t care less for that little sky kingdom.

He was supposed to be the ruler of darkland after Bowser retired. He wasn't supposed to be a house husband for some soft little parakoopa.

It wasn’t fair he thought, not fair in the slightest. Years were thrown away in an instant, and he felt utterly robbed of what he could’ve had. But, he couldn’t do anything about it. So in what little retaliation he had, he sulked alone in his study.

And as he sulked about his unfair situation, his hands danced over the keys of a piano, the tune he played being somber as he mulled over the raging storm in his mind.

He made a habit of playing an instrument whenever he was stressed, letting his frustration out by running his fingers down on ivory keys of a piano, pipe organ, or some other. Anything he could get his claws on, it didn't matter if he could play it or not. He played until his claws were sore, or until he felt better, the former usually being the case.

It created melodies he could write down and save for later. Melancholic and discontented melodies that perfectly put together how he felt, even if his mind was far from the music.

Though he used his piano to air out his grievances, it had seen years of wear and tear. Sometimes it comes all boiling over, and every once in a while he can't help himself. In his mind it all crumbles down so quickly that his fingers can't keep up with his thoughts as they fly from one frustration to the next. From what he could do, what he couldn’t do, pinballing him to memories of him and his father’s first meeting, to them practicing magic and the mishaps that went along with it. Such fond and detested memories he held close suddenly all crashed down.

It all builds and builds, becoming one string of notes he knew all too well. He couldn't help but slam his fists into the instrument, creating a familiar sour and deep note to his otherwise masterpiece, and then another, and more until the sound coming from the piano felt more like a cry for help from the poor instrument. It became erratic, mashing together notes both high and low forté until he felt better. But he didn’t, and so his claws curled tighter, banged harder, almost assaulting the poor instrument before he felt sweat drip onto his brow. Only then, out of breath, did he stop.

Hunched over the piano, breathing heavily in ragged and bitter breaths, his claws digging into the ivory. He stayed there, hoping he didn’t break his most prized possession. He thankfully never did when he had these sudden and ridiculous fits. Ludwig knew it was childish, he knew he shouldn’t do this with how mature he portrayed himself to be, but everything felt too much, and this was his only solution. He had made it abundantly clear how he felt about the arrangement, but to show someone how really hurt he was? That's a matter he'll keep in private.

But.. he hated when his thoughts ran rampant like that. He couldn't stop them, couldn't keep a grip on them like he should, like he knew how to. It embarrassed him. It made him feel utterly miserable and bitter. Bitter, angry, frustrated, every other word he could throw at the wall to describe how he felt. He stayed like this for a moment before his eyes turned and he squinted, staring at a dim reflection of himself in the polished dark blue fallboard.

He looked terrible. His dark blue hair was more unruly than usual, mixed with fast movement and sweat had made it look greatly tossed around. His collar had become unbuttoned and falling off his shoulders, and he only just now realized the heart shaped cravat he wore was uncomfortably warm against his scales. He only now noticed the bags under his eyes as well.

He sneered at the sight, fumbling to re-button his collar but giving up shortly after with a tired scoff. Looking down at the piano he cherished, Ludwig felt how sore his claws were from his immature fit.

And yet, he still played. He breathed, pulling himself together, and put his melancholy once again into a somber sonet.

It was all he could do, really. He couldn’t talk his way out of this, no matter how much he argued or fought his father tooth and nail to convince him this was a poor political decision. Marrying some parakoopa he didn't even know, all to satisfy his father's swollen ego, convincing himself it was for a peace they easily could've had as soon as they arrived. Again, it frustrated him.

So he mindlessly continued. He played until he felt his forearms become sore from use, and his eyes blinking closed. He stopped for a moment and stayed still, breathing heavily and slowly, sleepily even.

The thump of his hands on the keys made a dark tone that rang out for a few seconds. The study brings an ominous echo to the final note of his erratic and ridiculous lament and then there was finally silence.

What seemed like only moments later, a knock came from his door, soft and almost muted, but the echo brought it to his attention.

Ludwig shifted his eyes toward the door, and in the doorway, there she was.

"Oh.. It's you."

[drawnwithrage]

Aww, just lovely Pauline 🌸🌸🌸! You’ll always be lovely. This is the next part of the Rosaline comic that might go nowhere. Please check out the first part! Yes, I ship them! Ever since I saw the concept art of Super Mario Odyssey, I was hooked! They’re two tall ladies with a fondness for music. I read some cute fan fics that subtly hinted at this ship. Oh man, it’s such a healing ship 🥰! Anyway enjoy!

[imagine-darksiders]

DUDE your bowser fics are keeping me FED. I so appreciate the work u do, thank u for existing <33

Do you think we could see the scene where reader sprains her ankle? I am in love with your writing!!

Ah, I can't believe I'm joining this Bowser train, choo choo!!

Here's part one of the ankle sprain. Pt 2 is in the works <3

Bowser X Reader

-----

This is a bad idea.

This is a very bad idea, and you've known it would be a bad idea from the moment you started tying your silken bedsheets together, fastened one end around a column of the four-poster bed and tossed the other end straight out of an open window.

While certainly not the most creative method of escape, you're well aware that time is of the essence.

The ruler of this wretched castle – King Bowser – is nothing if not your most frequent visitor.

The last of the sun's rays have slipped back down behind the horizon, stealing away the day's warmth and light, which suits your plans just fine. Less light means you'll be harder to spot as you shimmy your way down the side of the tower, clinging to your unconventional rope like a limpet clings to rocks on the shore.

Of course, as seems to be the case with your recent run of bad luck, there is another major factor you hadn't accounted for that has already proven more of a hinderance than a help.

In your haste to make a quick getaway, you hadn't considered the rain.

A relentless onslaught of water cascades down from the darkening sky, lashing against the side of the castle and drenching your flimsy nightdress until it's plastered against you like a second skin, offering little protection against the icy downpour.

The bedsheets you're scaling are already as sodden as you are, and your rain-slicked hands squeak and slip precariously against the fabric as you ease your way down inch by terrifying inch.

The breath in your lungs heaves out of you in crisp, white clouds of white air.

Quivering, you cast a glance down at the ground, still so far below your dangling feet and utterly barren of foliage or grass. Just a desolate wasteland of wet, churning mud.

The ground isn't the only thing that's churning.

Your stomach rolls over itself at the prospect of how far you still have to go before reaching solid ground once more. You must be several storeys up, right at the tip-top of Bowser's Northern tower.

Twisting your fingers and toes desperately into the sheets, you drag your gaze away from the perilous drop and squeeze your eyes shut, scrambling down a little further.

Time is not on your side. There's an awful burn in your arms that's starting to spread like venom to the rest of your muscles, and you're not sure how much longer you'll be able to hold onto the slippery sheets before your strength gives out.

And that's when you hear it.

That dread-inducing, booming knock - A damning sound that stops your heart in its tracks and draws your descent to a halt as you instinctively freeze up against the wall, your white-knuckle grip crushing the sheets between your fingers.

"No... No, no, no!" you whimper breathlessly.

Why is he here now!? He's only visited you every hour, on the hour. By your count, he's at least twenty minutes early, he shouldn't be here!

Not yet...

Even from several storeys down, you can hear the thunderous voice of your captor calling to you from beyond the doors of your prison - a plush and luxuriant little corner of the castle that he's been trying to convince you is your bedroom.

“Princess?” he calls out in that gravelly rumble you've come to fear, “Are you decent? I'm coming in...!”

A vicious shudder travels down the length of your spine that has nothing to do with the cold seeping like ice into your bones. You have to move.

Now.

Urgency and adrenaline compel you into action, driving you to move hand over hand, inch by agonising inch, down the rope of bedsheets. High over your head, you hear the ancient, wooden doors creak open, announcing Bowser's entrance.

“Princess?” comes his muffled call once more.

You drop another few feet, pulling a face at the false title he's given you. You may not like it, but you suppose it's better that he thinks you a princess than a queen.

There's silence for a time, lasting a scant few seconds as you presume he's giving the room a cursory sweep, until, inevitably...

“Princess!”

It's far more urgent than you expected, and his shout is immediately followed by the clatter of several objects being dropped to the ground, smashing to pieces across the marble floor of your prison-come-bedroom.

You realise that by now, he has to have seen the open window and the sheets you've tied to the bed.

The whole tower seems to shudder as he lumbers across the room, and in a thoughtless move borne of fear, you crane your neck back and squint up through the rain until your gaze lands upon the golden light that spills out through the window, what had once seemed like such a beacon of hope.

There, through the darkness, a colossal snout pokes out into the downpour, swiftly followed by a thick, fiery mane.

For all of a second, you find yourself gaping up at the underside of his chin.

But of course, as was bound to happen, he tips his nose and finally looks down.

The dark does little to hide the striking gleam in those wild and crimson eyes. They lock with yours, and for a moment, you both stare back at one another, unblinking, each as apprehensive as the other.

Somewhere far in the distance, a growl of thunder almost supersedes the Koopa's deafening roar. “WHAT'RE YOU DOING!?” Bowser bellows, loud enough to spur your stiff muscles into action once again.

Gasping for a breath you hadn't realised was trapped in your throat, you recommence your mad dash down the side of his tower.

“Wait! Stop!” His tone is suddenly miles away from its usual, authoritative lilt. “You're gonna get yourself killed!”

You pay the King's threat as little mind as possible and begin to clench and unclench your fists, allowing the weight of your body to pull you down in jolting, jarring increments. The sodden palms of your hands burn as the fabric pulls through them, rubbing the skin raw, but you don't stop.

You're nearly two storeys from the ground when, all of a sudden, you feel the sheets in your hands jerk and there's an odd swooping sensation in the pit of your stomach as gravity gives an unexpected shift.

It takes your brain a moment to realise what's happening.

One, rapid glimpse of the ground confirms your fear. The mud below you is falling away again, getting further instead of closer with each passing second.

“No!” you gasp hoarsely, snapping your head back to see that Bowser has stuffed his arms and torso out of the window and fisted his enormous, meaty paws around the bedsheets, hoisting them back into the room, one armful at a time.

“Just hang on!” he belts out, spraying rainwater from his rubbery, upper lip, “I gotcha! I gotcha!”

He's pulling you back up, you realise with a sinking sense of dread tugging your heart down into the soles of your feet. He's taking you back to that prison, back to the confined and claustrophobic walls of his fortress.

Heaven knows what he'll do to you when he gets his hands on you after this, but you can't imagine that anyone who is willing to kidnap a person is going to pull their punches if said person attempts to escape.

You can't let him get you back into that room.

Right now, you're more afraid of the Koopa King's wrath than you are of a fall.

Dropping your head, you watch the ground sink further and further away below your bare toes.

Two and a half storeys... at least... and steadily getting higher....

You can't stop to hesitate.

Besides, you've already had several bad ideas today, what's one more?

Your breath stills as you try to override your natural instincts and pry your trembling fingers from the bedsheets. One moment of courage, that's all you need.

“Come on!” you whimper to yourself, slamming your eyes shut tight.

At last, with every synapse in your brain shrieking for you to hold on, your hands spring open and you finally let go.

“NO!” Bowser's almighty clamour is lost to you in the abrupt rush of air that screams past your ears.

There's a gut-wrenching second of free fall, and then..

'SPLAT!'

The muddy earth is eager to greet you with a sickening squelch.

You land feet first, letting out a shrill yelp of pain as you instantly crumple over onto your front in the muck. It oozes between your fingertips as you clench your fists and bite down hard to keep a sob trapped behind your teeth, eyes burning with unshed tears.

You feels as if someone has taken a red-hot poker and shoved it straight through your ankle.

“Y/n!?”

Your own name sounds far away to your ringing ears, and you deduce that distance must be the reason why the voice sounds so frantic.

It won't occur to you until later the significance of Bowser calling you by your name instead of 'princess.'

Mud clings stubbornly to the front of your night dress, caking your thighs and arms as you tenuously peel yourself up off the ground and rise to your hands and knees whilst the rain hammers down on you from overhead, plastering your hair to your skull.

Wet, freezing cold and sporting an ankle that sings with agony, you drag yourself away from the wall on shaking limbs. If you can just make it beyond the castle grounds and into the Dark Lands, you might stand a chance of finding a place to hole up in until the worst of the storm passes, proverbial and literal.

The odds are slim, but right now, you don't have much of a choice. You have to go home. You have to get back to your people.

It isn't lost on you that you're far from your kingdom, separated by vast oceans and unfamiliar biomes. But as you struggle through the mud on hands and knees, you resolve to cross that bridge when you're out of immediate danger.

Another grumble of thunder rolls across the swiftly-darkening sky.

“Stay there!” Bowser hollers from the window, “Don't move! I'm comin' down!”

You risk a strained glance over your shoulder to see how far you've crawled, but when your eyes land on the Koopa far above you, your efforts to drag yourself forward are put on temporary hold.

Blinking through a mixture of raindrops and your own salty tears, you see the Koopa bracing his hands on either side of the open window, but he doesn't retreat into his castle, as you assumed he would.

By your count, it should take him at least five minutes to get out here to you, which would subsequently give you precious time to put some distance between you and his terrible fortress.

Sadly, your hopes for that outcome are promptly scuppered when the king hoists his hefty bulk through the window and, to your shock, pushes himself out of it, foregoing your bedsheet rope entirely.

Mouth hanging agape, you're too stunned to do anything except watch as Bowser drops like a meteorite, plummeting towards the earth with his knees bent and his arms held out at his sides, mane whipping around his horns in the rain. He hits the ground with an almighty 'BOOM!' that sends shockwaves rippling out through the mud around him and shakes the ground below your fingertips.

Nothing but a low grunt is torn out of him at the impact.

Horrified, you reel back as he lifts his head, and his bright, blood-red eyes slide open, zeroing in on you with the immediacy of a honing beacon.

Gods... he doesn't even look winded.

You wonder how you must seem right now to a tyrant like him – sopping wet and bedraggled, mud-caked from head to toe, and shivering like a leaf in a hurricane. You're far from the proud, adventurous person who first landed on the shores of the Mushroom Kingdom.

You're given no more time to your thoughts however, as Bowser starts towards you, stomping easily through the sloshing mud.

With a sudden flare of alarm, you whip yourself around and struggle valiantly up onto your one, good leg while the beast's resonant breaths drift closer and closer, urging you onwards like spurs to a horse's flank.

The moment you're upright however, sharp agony crawls up from your ankle to your knee and you cry out in pain, half stumbling, half hopping awkwardly through the slippery mud.

“Hey, stop!” Cumbersome footfalls are almost upon you.

You make it all of a few steps before your ankle suddenly crumples under your weight and you let out another bleat of anguish, toppling backwards with your arms pinwheeling to try and right yourself again.

At your back, Bowser makes a sound of alarm, but you don't see him lurch towards you, his colossal hands outstretched. There's an almighty 'thud!' behind you as something enormous hits the ground.

Gravity pulls you greedily backwards and you brace yourself, waiting in anticipation to feel the earth connect painfully with the back of your skull.

So it comes as something of a shock when, instead of a cold, hard landing, your backside hits a warm, spongey surface...

Stunned rigid, you pry your eyelids apart and find yourself blinking straight up into the falling rain.

“What...?” Reaching behind your head, you try to feel for the ground underneath you, only to further baffle yourself when your probing fingertips meet a layer of smooth, .

A hot gush of air suddenly blasts against your thighs and you squeal involuntarily when something groans under your rump. With a gasp, you hurl your torso upright and twist yourself around to peer down at the soft surface you've landed on.

Oh... Oh, you really wish you'd just fallen in the mud...

For reasons utterly beyond the scope of your imagination, it seems that Bowser has thrown himself to the ground just in time to spare the seat of your nightdress from further mud, but evidently, he'd overshot, enough that you've ended up landing right on top of his head, not in his outstretched hands.

You're sitting on Bowser's muzzle.

His muzzle, your brain helpfully reminds you, and you're dreadfully aware of the little puffs of breath that blow from his nostrils and warm the backs of your thighs. All of a sudden, the gargantuan body underneath you lets out another groan and a single, red eye peels itself open, swivelling up to meet your stupefied gaze.

“Ngh, you okay?” the King mumbles through his lips, half of his jaw squashed into the mud.

It takes you another second to register your mortifying position. And another second entirely to react to it.

You're not sitting there for long. With a scandalised squawk, you hurl yourself off the koopa's snout at the speed of a bullet and twist yourself around in mid air to face him. The seat of your dress eventually collides with the mud but you don't care for the ruined fabric, too preoccupied with gawking up at Bowser as he starts to heave himself onto his feet.

“You!” you blurt shakily, “How... how dare you!” Trembling hands drag yourself backwards, but Bowser, it seems, is hardly paying attention.

In another second, he's stepping forwards and leaning down towards you, wholly undeterred by the feeble slaps you land on his outstretched arms.

“Don't you dare!” you bark, wriggling with fervour when his huge, scaly hands slide around your back and slip easily underneath your kicking legs, clamping your knees together.

“Quit movin' around! You wanna make that foot worse?” The King's rumbling timbre does nothing to dissuade your struggles. With far too little effort, Bowser clutches your squirming body against his chest and rises to his full height.

You regret tossing yourself about so much when a wayward kick sends spasms of white-hot fire lancing through your ankle and you promptly go rigid in the koopa's arms, hissing a breath through your gritted teeth.

Bowser lowers his colossal head over you, covering you from the worst of the weather as he curls around you until you're almost lost from view behind his broad biceps.

“C'mon, Princess,” he thrums, his throat so close to your ear that you feel his voice more than you can hear it, “Let's get you outta this rain...”

[pianokantzart]

First thing I see in Twitter:

“Sigh” 😮‍💨

Unless this comes from the official Nintendo twitter, I'm pretty skeptical for a number of reasons.

None of the usual entertainment news outlets are saying this. A lot of them suggested something similar to this twitter post immediately after the March 10 announcement, but it was all speculation. If it was confirmed that the upcoming movie isn't a sequel, Screen Rant would be all over it.

Though Shigeru Miyamoto worded it strangely, saying that the movie would be "based on the world of The Super Mario Bros." the CEO of Illumination said that the movie would be "a return to The Super Mario Brothers."

The Super Mario Bros. Movie teased a sequel after the end credits. Given the ridiculous amount of money the movie made, going ahead with that sequel feels like the next logical step, especially since they're working with the same directors and animation studio.

Why would they announce the movie on Mario Day alongside a bunch of new Mario releases if it wasn't going to be a followup to the Mario movie?

If they did all this while making a movie that merely expanded on Mario's world while having nothing to do with Mario himself? That would be absolutely bonkers.

[lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom]

How Time Travel And The Mario Timeline Works In The Mario World

So in Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time Professor Elvin Gadd invents a Time Machine and uses the Cobalt Star to Power it. In this he effectively introduces time travel to the Mario World. But another interesting thing is we learn how time travel works in the Mario World from this, and effectively how the Mario Timeline works.

So there is a part where a past E. Gadd sees Baby Mario and Luigi trying to put out a Thwomp with water. This causes his present self to gain new memories, and gets the idea to create the Hydrogush 4000 and help out his past self. This is establishes time travel instead of creating a branching timeline merely alters the past and by extension the present. In addition this would mean the Mario timeline doesn't split but remains as one continuous timeline.

This is further backed up by the events of Super Mario Galaxy where the universe resets and things are just a bit different, via the Star Festival and events of SMG technically never happened. And outside of that the timeline remains the same and there is no splitting.

This also explains why Kamek in Partner's In Time says he remembers kidnapping the Baby Bros once, when he has at least 2 times. It's because this is the first time anyone has time traveled and altered the past. Meanwhile games like Yoshi's Island DS and Yoshi's New Island involve time traveling and active meddling in the past thus altering the past, making it where the events of Super Mario World 2 Yoshi's Island is not the only time Kamek has kidnapped the Baby Bros. This also explains why Mario is using the alias and disguise Mr. Pipe, he is trying to avoid meddling with the past too much while Bowser doesn't care at all.

This also lines up with what Miyamoto said it's always the same Mario across games. He said this in response to a question about if it was the same Mario in comparison to Link being a different Link in each game via timeline split and reincarnation. While the Zelda Timeline Splits, the Mario Timeline does not. This also means the Zelda games cannot take place on the Mario World let alone in the Mario Timeline.

[aro-arttorneys]

Creation of the Chaos Heart, part 1/2

[paimaniagalaxia]

Alternate ending to the Super Mario Bros Movie

[brooklynguys]

A few photos that I find funny (Part 2) ✌️

Almost all Mario 😂

(I think the next part will be the last part 😁)

[skeletalheartattack]

so for like, a decade plus, i've been searching for a youtube video i remember seeing back in 2007, and i've finally managed to make some headway:

good news: i've found it

bad news: it's lost media

[nyxx01]

People are being murderd and massacred right now, your inconvenience is insignificant.