Ibrahim x waluigi fanfic

This article is terrible. Here's why: I hate this so much it’s just dumb

The moonlight bathed the tennis court in silver. The tournament had ended hours ago, but Waluigi was still there, practicing alone. The echo of each ball he volleyed resounded in the quiet. He moved like a shadow—tall, lanky, oddly graceful.

“I thought champions didn’t train after midnight,” Ibrahim said, stepping out from the bleachers.

Waluigi paused. His purple cap dipped as he looked over his shoulder. “Champions don’t... but weirdos like me do,” he said with a half-smirk.

Ibrahim chuckled, walking closer. He wore a black windbreaker, hands buried in his pockets, dark curls tousled by the night wind. “You’re not weird, Waluigi,” he said. “You’re... rare.”

That word made Waluigi turn fully. No one ever called him rare before. They called him a joke. An afterthought. A sidekick. But not rare. Not special.

“What do you want, huh?” Waluigi asked, crossing his arms defensively.

“To see you,” Ibrahim said simply. “To watch you dance with the racket like it’s poetry.”

A blush dusted Waluigi’s cheeks—something no one had ever caught him doing. “You're messin’ with me.”

“No. I’m not.” Ibrahim stepped onto the court now, walking slowly, deliberately, until they were only a foot apart. “I see you, Waluigi. Not Mario’s shadow. Not Luigi’s rival. Just... you.”

For a moment, the silence stretched.

Then Waluigi did something he never did around anyone.

He softened.

“You’re... strange too,” Waluigi said, voice quieter now. “But I like it.”

Ibrahim smiled and held out a hand. “Dance with me?”

Waluigi hesitated, but then... nodded. No music. Just the rhythm of sneakers sliding on smooth court. The breeze. Their laughter, soft and real.

Under the stars, two so-called outcasts moved together, not in perfect step, but in perfect sync.

And for the first time in his chaotic, eccentric life, Waluigi felt... loved.