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He hated it here.
He hated the dark castle. How everything, everything here relied on out-dated methods of technology from the endless torches lighting the hallways and rooms to how you had to start up a fire to do anything be it warming up water for a bath or make something in the kitchen if he could sneak past the suspicious koopas guarding the place anyways .
It’d be...tolerable...if he was allowed to tinker. Or attempt to bring this stupid place into the twenty-first century. But apparently, build one itty bitty harmless little killer robot to chase around some junior minions for laughs and to kill some boredom and suddenly he ‘wasn’t allowed around any tools’ and ‘needed constant supervision’ like some stupid child.
He was an adult! He should be treated like one and not like some some brat in need of constant babysitting!
Hell! Bowser’s actual spawn got more freedom than he did!
The sound of his door creaking open jolted him out of his musings. Frowning, he turned to face whoever it was.
He hoped it was Bowser and not one of his guards sent in to check on him again. He had a few choice words to say to the so called King of the Koopas. If he was lucky, maybe the giant turtle would finally get it through his thick skull he wasn’t Luigi and let him go already.
To Mr. L’s disappointment, it wasn’t either Bowser or one of the endless guards that roamed this stupid castle.
It was one of Bowser’s spawn. Judging by the disgusting level of resemblance, it was probably his actual actual son.
“What do you want, brat?”
The mini Bowser’s eyes widened. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t seen you since-”
Mr. L snorted and scowled at the kid. “Congratulations kid. You’ve seen me now get out and leave me alone.”
The kid frowns. “But I just got here and I. I miss seeing you Papa.”
There’s a vile taste in his mouth as he glares down at the kid, wishing not for the first time that he could tower over the giant turtle as easily as does nearly everyone else in this stupid place. Ah well, the kid looks enough like his father that he can...pretend a little.
Not that he’d actually hurt or insult the little runt. He’s not a monster like everyone in this god forsaken prison mutter under their breath when they think he can’t hear them.
“Do I look like your papa?”
The kid blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Yes?”
Mr. L takes a deep breath and gives the kid the sharpest smile he can. “Are. You. Blind? I’m human. NOT a giant, fire breathing turtle monster. So. CLEARLY I. Am not. Your Papa.”
The kid’s lip trembles and he can’t help feel a little bad at that. Call it a weak spot for kids or some leftover softness from the other guy but he doesn’t really want to make someone that young cry. Even if they’re remarkably stupid.
“B-But you are! You’re papa and dad’s dad. I don’t. I don’t know why you’re acting so mean. You’re not mean!”
Mr. L’s thoughts screech to hard stop and for a moment, he gives the kid a blank stare as he struggles to re-contextualize this whole fun little encounter he’s found himself in.
He’s not...stupid.
He knows...he knows he doesn’t really...exist…
At least, not the way normal people did. Or how everyone else does or whatever.
He’s overheard mutterings of how Luigi wouldn’t do this or say that. How awful it is for poor King Bowser that his boyfriend has been turned into something he’s not.
How they hope that Mario and the Princess come back soon to break this terrible spell poor poor wonderful Luigi’s under and everything can be like it used to be.
...he hates Luigi more than he does being stuck here.
And while he can never hit the guy himself, he does find it cathartic to do everything he can to ruin the guy’s life on the off chance he does...lose. He refuses to give up, he’ll escape before they get rid of him he has to.
Mr. L stares down at the kid in front of him with new eyes. He doesn’t like the idea of making some kid cry, not really, but if it’s Luigi’s kid….well. He’ll make an exception. Maybe even relish in it a little.
He deserves a little fun after days of doing nothing.
“Ooooh. Kiddo. Did nobody tell you?”
Bow-Luigi’s brat looks up at him, eyes wide as he slowly shakes his head.
Mr. L leans down and gives the kid a soft smile as he gently ruffles his hair. “Your papa’s dead. He’s never. Ever. Coming back.”
The kid’s eyes grow wider. “That’s. That’s not funny. You’re right here! You’re not dead!”
“Mmm Physically I guess. But mentally…” Mr. L’s smile sharpens as he taps his forehead. “He’s gone.” He laughs. “I would know since I’m the one running things now and I’d be the first one to know if good ol’ reliable Luigi was still kicking around up there.” He lowers his voice to a whisper and leans further into the kid’s face. “And he’s not. Luigi’s gone. Dead. I killed him. And if your daddy’s not careful, I’m going to do the same to him.”
The kid’s eyes are so so wide and wet as he finally pushes him away before running out of the room, wailing the entire way as he presumably runs off to find someone who cares enough to lie to him to make him feel better.
Mr. L watches him go for a moment before slowly getting up and closing the door, this time making sure to lock it himself.
He achieved his goal. He made a little kid cry. Luigi’s kid cry. And if Mr. Wonderful is successfully brought back, he doubts the little brat will be able to look at him for a while.
So. It’s a win for him every way he looks at it.
Except...a large part of him feels crummy about it.
...stupid leftover softness.
If he could scoop it out and discard it with the rest of Luigi’s oh so perfect and wonderful self, he would.
But he can’t. He just has to deal with it and hope it fades quickly.
For now, he’ll just do what he does whenever the sappy, sad, emotional bits of the other guy decide to fill his head. Sleep it off on the oh so big and comfortable bed Bowser provided his poor confused boyfriend.
...Grambi he hates it here
.
.
.
When he next wakes up, it’s to the sound of wood snapping and breaking and heavy footsteps approaching him before he’s roughly picked up by one hand and held extremely close to a furious koopa face.
Bowser’s lips are pulled back, exposing long, sharp teeth and his eyes are such a bright, burning red that Mr. L’s a little surprised he hasn’t caught on fire just looking at them.
...not for the first time, he can’t help but wonder what things could be like between them if Bowser wasn’t so hung up on saving someone who shouldn’t exist anymore. Doesn’t exist anymore. If He could have wooed him just as easily if not better than Mr. Perfect did.
Bowser, thankfully, as always, is quick to shake those thoughts out of his head. This time literally as he shakes the fist tightly gripping him. “What did you say to him?!” he growls and Mr. L can’t help the small laugh that escapes him.
“Aww. Did the wittle baby turtle not tell his big scawy daddy?”
Bowser growls again and tightens his grip. Distantly, Mr. L wonders if Bowser will remember how fragile humans are before or after he cracks one of his ribs.
It’d be a fun surprise for Luigi if he didn’t currently need this body to be as intact as possible for his own life.
“I just. Told him the truth. Since no one in this dumb castle seems to think it worthwhile to keep the kid in the loop.” he eventually manages to get out in a rasp.
Thankfully, Bowser’s grip loosens enough for him to get him some much needed air. Discreetly of course, can’t let the stupid lug know how close he was to beating him just now.
“The truth.” Bowser repeats flatly. “And just what is that?”
Mr. L gives him a toothy grin. “Why that Luigi’s dead of course!”
He manages to bite back a wheeze of pain as the huge clawed hand tightens around him again, this time absolutely cracking a rib or two.
“HE’S NOT DEAD!” Bowser roars, smoke escaping his nostrils with each word.
“Says. Says you.” Mr. L manages to get out, pleased as punch to hear his voice stay steady and not shake in the slightest. “But well, since I’m the one here and he’s not…” He shrugs, and just barely manages to hide a grimace of pain behind an annoyed sneer. “I will say, if the lil brat has any brains, they’re most definitely not from you. HE was able to understand the facts a hell of a lot faster than you or anyone else in this stupid castle.”
“The only one ignoring facts is you.” Bowser growled. “We will undo the brainwashing” Bowser spits the word like it’s acid “And you’ll stop being such a menace and bigger pain in my shell than your brother ever was and everything will go back to normal.”
And Bowser’s looking at him so softly at the end of that little spiel that if he wasn’t currently being slowly crushed to death and expected to be happy at the idea of being erased or or whatever will happen to him to bring back Luigi, he’d probably be trying to kiss the stupid, hotheaded lug.
It isn’t fair.
It isn’t FAIR.
He’s right here and no one wants him or even give him a chance.
All anyone wants is wonderful, perfect, sweet Luigi.
And he’s just the bad guy keeping him away.
Something...snaps inside him. Maybe it’s the last fuck he had left. This argument is the last one. Either Bowser throws his sorry ass out of the castle and he figures out things from there or Bowser kills him.
He doesn’t care.
He’s done trying to play nice for the people who just want him gone.
“Here’s a fact for you, Bowsie.” Bowser flinches at the name and Mr. L wonders if that was a pet name Mr. Perfect used, it seems sappy enough. “Luigi’s dead. And if I have to shock that crybaby brat of yours to get it through that thick skull of yours, I wi-” he doesn’t get to finish his threat as the next thing he knows, he’s being slammed hard into the floor.
A laugh bubbles out of him at the impact.
Amazing.
Weeks stuck here, annoying everyone he possibly can to make it clear he’s not Luigi, that he’s his own person, only to be treated like glass or or that he’s senile because the big bad koopa king refuses to let any harm come to him just because he loves the person he used to be.
And all it takes. All it takes for Bowser to quit hovering and pretending this is all temporary and fixable is for him to bully Bowser Jr. and threaten to zap the kid with a little lightning.
As if any measly sparks he’d manage to pull up could in any way actually hurt the kid who lives in a land filled with lava and is just as tough and hardy as his old man.
There’s a furious sounding roar above him, and Mr. L is just barely able to register the huge clawed hand nearing his face before it makes contact with him.
There’s a burning feeling from the bottom of his ear to his cheek and then he feels himself hitting one of the walls in his room harder than he thinks he did when Bowser slammed him into the floor earlier.
He wants to laugh, or cry, or even insult Bowser one last time.
But he doesn’t.
He just feels tired. And hurt.
He can’t even drudge up any feelings of satisfaction or regret as the room spins and darkens around him.
The last thing he maybe sees clearly, is Bowser looking at him all horrified and worried.
And isn’t that a funny thought? That anyone could care about him as much as Mario does, least of all his brother’s biggest rival.
.
.
.
To his great surprise, Mr. L wakes up.
He’d been sure the lil quip he’d made about attacking Bowser’s kid to Bowser would have killed him, it’d certainly seemed like it’d been heading that way.
But. Here he was.
Alive.
Stiffly, he sits up and examines his new room. Because surely, Bowser wouldn’t keep him in the same one he’d tried to crush him in right?
It’s...smaller.
There’s no bookcase. Or closest, or desk or anything else that could reasonably be expected to be in a bedroom.
Just his bed, so much smaller than the last one, a mirror above a sink, and a toilet off in the corn-ah.
He’s in the dungeons now.
He can’t help but laugh a little. All he’d managed to do with that little display was make his cage smaller and his chance of escaping before Mario and Peach returned practically nonexistent.
It would have been kinder just to let him bleed out and die. That way neither he or Luigi wins but of course he couldn't have that, not when the other guy was sooooooo loved and he wasn’t.
He was just an obstacle to overcome for yet another happy ending. Yippie.
Sighing, Mr. L slowly made his way to the mirror. Everything was sore and moving hurt and it probably would have been better to just keeping laying on the bed, but, he was curious on whether or not Bowser had really ripped his face open or if that was something he’d imagined after having his head slammed into a hard surface twice in a row.
…
Huh.
Guess he hadn’t imagined that…
Eyes locked on his reflection, Mr. L gently trailed his fingers down a long piece of gauze stretching from the spot just below his ear all the way down to nearly his chin.
That was. Quite the scratch.
Idly, he wondered if there were more clawmarks alongside his body from where Bowser had presumably swatted him off the floor and into a wall or if just one claw had gotten hooked into his face by accident.
...well, more of an accident than it already was. Mr. L highly doubted Bowser would hurt his oh so precious and wonderful boyfriend on purpose.
...he couldn’t check the rest of his body, as spiteful and petty as he was towards Luigi, even he knew it’d be a bad idea to undo the wrappings on his chest, he was pretty sure cracked ribs needed to stay wrapped to heal properly, but the gauze on the face...he could probably take that off without causing further issues down the line.
Carefully, he pulled the strip of cotton off and stared.
It was a different thing to see the bright line of red instead of the white of the gauze. Gauze had made it look...clean. Small.
Without it, the eyes couldn’t help be drawn too it.
It had to have been an accidental hook of a claw because the area by the ear was a harsher, deeper red than the rest of the scar with the bit ending by the chin already becoming a faint pinkish color.
And it would scar. There was no doubt in Mr. L’s mind that it would.
The sound of a familiar set of heavy footsteps pulled him away from his study of his reflection. He didn’t have a lot of time to get ready before his ‘guest’ arrived, but, luckily, his cell was small.
By the time Bowser reached the final step, Mr. L was waiting for him at the bars, leaning against them like he belonged there and not because he needed the support from the metal to keep standing.
“You’re awake.”
Mr. L smirked at Bowser’s surprised face, and ignored how much his face hurt from just the one expression. He didn’t care if it made the soon-to-be scar worse or opened it up again, pretending like it didn’t bother him was the one thing he still had at his disposal.
Bowser’s eyes drifted towards the scar and scowled. “What happened to the gauze?”
Mr. L shrugged. “I took it off.” He shot his captor as wide a grin as he comfortably could. “Why? Don’t you like your handiwork? Or would it be claw-work?”
Bowser flinched and looked away to Mr. L’s delight.
“Awwww, don’t tell me you don’t like it. I think it’s sweet. A little reminder to Luigi every day for the rest of his life of just how much his monstrous lover cares about his family even against the squishiest and weakest opponents.”
Bowser spun around and glared down at him.
“You threatened my son!”
Mr. L widened in eyes in mock surprise. “Me? A little, easily handleable human? All you’d have to do would be to lock me in my room. Make it so none of your precious children were allowed to see me. Hell, you could have just moved me down here from the get go!” Mr. L leaned forward as much as he could through the bars and gave Bowser his sharpest smile. “I think you wanted to do this. Mark him like this to show off your power and strength. I was just the convenient little excuse you needed.” Mr. L blinked and gave Bowser a soft smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.” he added sweetly, just barely holding back a laugh as Bowser stumbled back a few steps.
“You’re wrong! I’d never hurt Luigi!”
“Mmm. But you have.” Mr. L lightly tapped the spot on his chin where the scar ended. “You did. Question is, do you think he’ll forgive you for this? Cuz to be honest if I was him,” he gave a light laugh “and technically I am, I wouldn’t forgive you.”
Bowser flinched hard at that but to his credit, he didn’t look away again. “Good thing you aren’t him then, huh.”
Bowser’s gaze drifted back towards the scar and he frowned. “I’ll send someone down to replace that gauze. Don’t take it off again.”
“And rob dear, sweet, wonderful Luigi the realization of what his lover did to him a second time?” Mr. L sneered, sending every bit of hate and anger he felt towards Mr. Perfect at Bowser with a single glare. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Bowser pulled his lips back in the beginnings of snarl before once again, his eyes drifted towards the scar. Visibly deflating, the great King of the Koopas turned and left the dungeons without another word.
Mr. L decided to take it as one of his few victories, it wasn’t like he had many left to look forward to after all.
.
.
.
Mario and Peach returned because of course they did. With a third person who could fix everything because why wouldn’t they?
Everything always worked out for the heroes and he’d never been the hero. So of course he’d lose so the person everyone really wanted and cared about could come back.
He was just the footnote. A bad memory.
Nothing anyone would want or miss.
A stepping stone to happy ever after.
Yippie.
.
.
.
He had a hard time hating well, anything.
People especially, because everyone had a reason for what they did or why. If he never gave people the chance to explain themselves or to improve, then he’d never be in the happy relationship he was with Bowser. He’d never have grown to love all the koopalings as fiercely and as proudly as any parent. And he’d never been able to help establish peace between the Mushroom Kingdom and the Darklands.
But as he holds and comforts a distraught Bowser Jr. for an hour after regaining his memories, his sense of self, or the times he catches Bowser’s gaze linger a little long on the scar trailing across his face before looking away in guilt no matter how many times he tries to comfort him and tell him it’s not his fault, he can’t help but hate Mr. L more than well, anything or anyone.
He doesn’t remember what was said or done during the time he was like that. And no one close to him will tell him what exactly he did beyond a brief word or two.
‘Oh he was a jerk.’ ‘Rude’ ‘Obnoxious’ ‘It’s better that you don’t know.’
Anything more substantial than that he has to get second hand from the members of Bowser’s army who aren’t scared of telling him what he was like as long it doesn’t get back to the others.
According to Bowser’s army, Mr. L was...cruel. And seemed to delight in causing as much pain and suffering as possible going so far to, at his best, terrorize new recruits with a killer robot and at worst, say something so cruel, so awful to Bowser Jr. that left the young prince crying for hours and refusing to repeat what exactly was said to anyone except his father who upon hearing it, flew into a rage and got into a fight with Mr. L and leaving him with the scar that now trailed down Luigi’s face.
An unfortunate side effect of the whole affair to be sure, to have a such a mark courtesy of someone as cruel and mean spirited as Mr. L stay with Luigi for the rest of his life.
He had a hard time hating people.
But he found Mr. L was an exception to the rule.
Although...he couldn’t help wondering sometimes, late, late at night, if there had been the slightest way or chance for the two of them to meet, if he could have gotten to know him, given him a chance just to see how unlikeable or likeable the other man really was.
It was probably a dumb thought, after all, Luigi couldn’t think of any way the two of them were similar to even attempt an offer of friendship.
...it was probably for the best he could never meet Mr. L face to face. At this point, he’d rather punch the other man than talk to him.