Chapter Text
**PLEASE READ**
Welcome, ya lil freak.
I appreciate the click. This is my first *published* fanfic, so criticism is welcome. Be aware that the plot is intentionally silly and downright dumb at times. If I make you laugh, then I’ve accomplished my goal. I’m concerned about jacking up the format when I post, so if you see something whacky please let me know! I’m not sure how user-friendly AO3 is for writers.
Although I’ve been Smashin’ since the early 2000’s, I am not familiar with every character's lore and personality. If I absolutely nuke your favorite player, well… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve always adored the drama queen edge-lord Meta Knight, so naturally I had to harass him hehehe. Conveying him as the target of the ladies sounded entertaining so I rolled with it. Also, there's not nearly enough Smash fics focused on him, shame shame!
On top of full-time work, I am also a STEM student (sobbing) and my responsibilities may interfere with regular uploads. Thus, I will not promise a set schedule, but I genuinely want to complete this work. Luckily I don’t plan for this to be super long. If you find yourself engrossed in the story and are eager for closure, flood my inbox. Beg, plead, call me a slur. Threaten me if you wish. Like seriously, it will motivate me.
I am rating this ‘M’ since I love cussing and sexual innuendo, and ya know…Bayonetta. I don’t *think* I will lean into explicit territory, but if I do, I’ll try to remember a chapter content warning.
By the way, I’m going into this with none of the official pairings present. There is no infidelity going on, HAHA.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
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Chapter 1: Eavesdropper
Princess Peach strolled down the exterior pathways of the Smash Mansion, the hum of her own theme song escaping from within her freshly-glossed lips. It was an exceptionally pleasant day, she noted with ever-present enthusiasm. The cloudless morning sky was a brilliant blue hue, and a refreshing breeze rustled the comfortable atmosphere, jostling the trees to life. She inhaled, the faint aroma of blossoming flowers stimulating her senses.
It was perfect weekends like these that coaxed every fighter from the confines of their dorms, a speculation confirmed by the giddy chatter resounding through the air. The halls were bustling with her curious companions, and it appeared she was not the only one taking advantage of the outdoors. Her heels clacked against stone and delicate fingers twirled the handle of her frilly umbrella. Since it was her day off, she wore a lightweight sundress that hit her at the knees - no need for her puffy royal layers that she boasted for the public. Overtaken by bliss, she cheerfully greeted every fighter that she passed.
Ness and Lucas came skidding around a corner, sprinting in her direction as they locked into a game of chase. Peach held out a hand, each boy slapping her with a high-five as they whizzed past - a tradition that had grown between her and the youngsters of the mansion. “Don’t slip now!” She calls over her shoulder as they shove past a startled Luigi. Silly boys.
Pit fluttered past her head, her loose blonde curls swaying from the disturbance of the wind. He dropped a breathless “Morning P!” Before departing with hurried wingbeats, off to do whatever Pit things he did in his free time. She laughed softly to herself as a rain of pure-white feathers swirled around her form. Flying fighters were always in such a rush.
Even Wolf, permanently ill-tempered, pulled his cigar from his jaw and gave her a nod of acknowledgment as she passed.
“Smoking tobacco will make those pretty fangs rot away!” She stated merrily, never one to back down from conversing with the less-friendly characters. The canine huffed out a cloud of ash, ignoring her jest as he leaned against one of the many tall pillars providing structural support for the grand pavilion.
The pink-clad princess hugged her satchel to her hip, feeling the shape of her book encased within. It was an ideal day to lounge beneath her favorite tree and rifle through another chapter of Beasts and Babes. Filthy romance novels were her guilty pleasure, and after being called out for her peculiar interests by Bowser - publicly at dinner, nonetheless - she now sought privacy for her little hobby.
‘My interests in untraditional men surely gave him hope,’ she’d concluded. Unfortunately for him, the fire-breathing reptile was far too brash for her taste.
Before reaching her destination, she made her daily stop by the training courtyard. From her vantage point on an overpassing stone bridge, she got a full exclusive view of all the boys hard at work with training. Watching sweaty muscled men spar was another favorite pastime of hers. She leans against the ledge, observing with a coy smile pushing against her cheeks.
Below, Link draws back the string of his bow, and with a reverberating thrung lands a clean bullseye on the distant target. She expected nothing less from The Hero of Time.
“Nice one!” She calls out in encouragement. The warrior whips around, his expression shifting from surprise to a cheeky smile when he spots her above. He offers an amiable wave, before focusing back on his archery.
Near the center, Marth and Roy engage in a fierce sword battle, sharp clangs piercing her ears. With every blow, the skilled swordsmen grunt and taunt their opponent with friendly banter. “Your…mom…hits harder…than this!” Roy spits between gritted teeth, the sheen of sweat on his forehead betraying his confidence. Marth only snickers, “Don’t have one, dumbass!” And his force noticeably increases. Peach rolls her eyes, amused by their weak shit-talk as they disappear into a flurry of clashing metal and twirling capes.
A new commotion arises above raucous ambiance, and Peach recognizes the voice right away. An unusually deep, masculine tone tinged ever-so-slightly with a foreign accent. One that could only belong to the mysterious masked Meta Knight.
“You’re tardy. Again.” He scolds sternly. She cocks her head, realizing the source emanated from below her feet, out of sight beneath the shade of the bridge. Of course, Peach can never resist a prime opportunity to eavesdrop, and so she does.
“Sorrrry. I was sleepy.” Replied the sweet, childish pitch of Kirby, his young apprentice. The two were often seen in a pair, which came as no surprise considering they were from the same universe. Initially, smashers assumed they were related, perhaps a classic strict-father-naive-son dynamic, but Meta Knight quickly dismissed these rumors. Rather, he served as his mentor, preparing him for…gods knows what.
Meta Knight was recruited - what, maybe a season ago? But he’d already climbed his way up the ranks, quickly earning a position as one of the top dogs at Smash. And heavens was he nasty out on the battlefield. Peach recalls - with a shiver - her first official match with the small swordsman. He was everywhere, all at once, a blur of devilish wings and those glowing eyes that burned with unsettling intensity. She was out in less than a minute…embarassing. And she wasn’t the only victim - even veteran fighters got their asses handed to them when faced with the end of his golden blade, and the few times they did best him, they didn’t leave unscathed. Underestimating his strength based on his size was a grave mistake.
His fierce reputation earned him respect, but few friends. This did not appear to bother the knight, who seemed to prefer solitude. When he wasn’t training - a rare circumstance - he was either reading, pouring out a night cap at the bar, or simply absent. Even at mansion-wide events, while everyone was buzzed and making a fool on the dance floor, he remained in a shadowed corner, wrapped up in his cape like a damn bat and observing quietly.
Besides sharing an occasional quip of wisdom or other small talk, he had little to say. His mask, worn day in and day out, only amplified his mystique. Peach had learned through tidbits of gossip that despite his menacing appearance, he intentions were good. Allegedly, he’d saved entire civilizations by defeating cosmic entities akin to gods. But this was all hearsay, and the knight never spoke of these achievements.
Otherwise, the newcomer was a total enigma.
Though one thing was clear - he pushed his prodigy way too hard. Kirby was still a kid, a goofy ball of love who should be playing with the other youngsters in the mansion, not getting lectured on combos at 9am on a Saturday. Unfolding in the courtyard was yet another case of Meta being too harsh.
“Sleepy? Do you think an enemy gives a shit if you’re sleepy?” He snaps rhetorically. “Kirby…I’m becoming frustrated with having to repeat myself. You have it damn good here. You live in this ridiculously elaborate home, surrounded by your little friends, unburdened by any real responsibilities. You cannot neglect your training. It is your top priority” He berates. There is a pause, before Kirby replies, defeated. “Yah…I know…”
“Listen closely. When I was your age, I dreamed of this lifestyle. I slept on the floor of the bunks. Hell I was lucky if I slept at ALL…”
Peach’s brows furrow in irritation. ‘Oh here we go. Poor buddy, I can’t listen to this nonsense anymore.’
Her interest fades and she begins to walk off, Meta’s voice still booming in earshot.
”…I had no family or friends, only comrades. Gods, I went as far as taking a knight’s oath of celibacy...”
She freezes. Come again?
Kirby pipes up. “An oath of…celery? Ew, celery is gross. I don’t wanna do that…” He protests.
“I -” Meta releases a heavy sigh. “You know what, never mind. You’re too young for that. Grab a sword. We’re losing daylight.” With that, the conversation is replaced by the familiar sound of combat.
No.
Fucking.
Way!
Peach feels a familiar giddiness bloom in her chest, a mischievous smirk shadowing her soft features.
There’s one thing Peach loves more than sexy men and scandalous literature.
Peach loves gossip.
Peach also has an inability to keep her mouth shut.
She slips a sneaky hand into her satchel and pulls out her cell phone, the glittery case sparkling like the glint in her eyes.
The girls are going to eat this up!