Author's Note: So, this requires a lot of context. Or none at all if you like shitposts. But I'm not cruel so I'll give you an explanation. From the announcement that the koopalings were not Bowser's actual children, leaving Bowser Jr. as the only heir to the throne, there came a strange breed of koopaling centered fanfiction (BTW it still baffles me how many koopaling fanfics there really are across multiple sites). This genre of fic centered around or had a main plot point that the koopalings, especially Ludwig, loathed Junior for stealing their rights to the throne, as well as Bowser's attention. This type of fanfiction became known to me and my sister (QueenKathofRine BTW check out her fic Instinct, you won't be disappointed) as "Shankwig Fanfiction" because of a particularly spicy fic where Ludwig is so mad that he's no longer the heir that he STABS Bowser Jr. and almost leaves him to die. So, this fanfiction is not to invalidate that genre at all but will be a faithful if not a little overdramatic parody of that peculiar type of fic and will be centered around everyone's favorite prick, Smugwig Von Douchebag. I'm mostly writing this for me and my sister's amusement, but I hope you enjoy!
It was a dark and tumultuous evening in Dark Land. Heavy storm clouds had rolled in and cast a thick and inescapable shadow over the crumbling stone castle, leaving the scarlet torchlight to burn like hellfire against the walls and heavy shade to inhabit each and every corner. Corridors that typically tended to be bathed in the warm glow of sunset at this hour were instead vacant save for the gothic tension that practically dripped from every stone.
The castle had its usual bustle of minions as they prepared for whatever scheme Lord Bowser was to enact next while still rushing to make shoddy repairs to the stonework from the last failure, but the halls were gradually emptying out as tasks were completed and the dusk poured through the windows of the throne room. There was, however, one room in the castle that was simply about to implode with angst.
The eldest koopaling swept his current piano piece off of his grand piano in a fit of silent rage. This motion was swift and controlled, like a match flame snuffed out only moments after ignition. Ludwig von Koopa sunk his claws into his unkempt royal blue locks and gripped the pieces tightly as his elbows plunked onto the keys, letting discord shriek out from the large instrument and echo through his bedroom as well as his skull. The music sheets fluttered to the ground, forgotten as the koopaling wracked his brain for a reason for this sudden flurry of fury that panged in his brain. He shut his eyes tight and winced.
"This is simply absurd" he spat out in his thick German accent, words bouncing off the candlelit walls of his chambers. "How can I expect to become a master composer when such turmoil pierces my very being? My pieces, my playing, they've all become lax, unable to improve under these conditions." Ludwig continued to himself, slowly rising from his bench to pick up his previously discarded compositions. Where could all of this seething trepidation have come from? His vision fixed on one of the candle's flickering flames, practically trying to drill a hole through it as he became increasingly frustrated.
Then, in an instant, the answer snapped into focus. The koopaling's face unfurred for a moment or two at the realization, but then scrunched further than ever before in deep loathing and disgust. It was him. The cause of this tempest whirling within Ludwig finally had a face, a name. A target, someone to blame. The beloved son of his Lord Bowser, the one who took everything he had trained for away from him. Ludwig nearly growled at the very thought of his name.
Bowser Jr… As if the very birth of that foul creature wasn't crime enough, his resemblance to the king as well as his actual biological relation to him had led to the sickly sentimental namesake. It made the eldest's stomach churn as he tried to maintain whatever composure he had left. He looked to his left, to a mirror on his desk. As the storm outside grew ever heavier, the shadows caused by the singular light source in the room loomed over his face dramatically, leaving him to stare at a ghastly and hollow version of himself. The visual shook him to his core and he looked away.
"This hatred is like a madness consuming me" he stated into the open air. Raindrops began to patter outside. "This is all the doing of that wretched brat." He became overcome with the urge to break something, to act out his aggression, but caught himself as he began to pick up his mirror. "No…" he muttered, slowly forcing himself to put the object down. "I mustn't break that. Seven years of bad luck will only assure that this nightmare continues. I must seek a way to calm myself."
He sat at his desk and watched the rain begin to pour impatiently, hoping that it would do anything to douse his irritation. He sighed but was then struck by inspiration. "Ah! I know just what will aid these infuriating thoughts." The koopaling began to rustle through his files of compositions. "I must find my newest work and finish it! Only then shall my rage be smothered!"
He searched in a frenzy half led by passion and the other half desperation. As he began to come up short however, passion fizzled out and was replaced by a smoldering but intense heat that rushed to the eldest's face as his frustration increased. "Ich bin wüten!" He snarled out in vexation. Deciding that a walk was the only way to burn off this extra indignation, he stalked out of his chambers, practically slamming the door behind him. Then, with cheeks still hot, he straightened his posture and raised his chin, a habit rehearsed over many years, and continued his walk with a new stoicism that the people of the castle were more familiar with.
The rain began pounding against the stones of the castle creating deafening unease throughout the structure and entrapping Ludwig in his thoughts once again. His previous anger had now fallen by the wayside, replaced with sinister rationality as he examined his feelings once again.
"Junior is clearly the root of my exasperation, but all day I must stand by and maintain my composure. I must cater to that brat's whims, yet I am expected to remain mature all the while. This is a severe injustice!" he lamented under his breath. His musings were cut short however as he heard a loud voice ring out through the corridors.
"That's MINE, Larry! Give it back! Give it back!" It was Junior's grating little voice.
Ludwig paused momentarily. He debated whether or not he should intrude on the situation, as it seemed in his best interest to let Larry keep pushing the little prince around and go about his walk, turning a blind eye to the young one's distress. But a small, dark part of him wanted to see it before his eyes so he could get the catharsis, so he continued toward the wailing.
He arrived at Junior's elaborately decorated bedroom door complete with spikes and paint splatters of every color. Ludwig winced at the eyesore and peeked around it into the room. Inside were all of his younger siblings sneering and laughing while tossing around a crumpled ball of paper. All the while Bowser Jr. sniveled and ran between each koopaling, desperately trying to catch the ball as it flew between their hands. Ludwig watched this display as it soared from Larry's tennis racket to Wendy's hands, both cackling as Junior fell while attempting to intercept its path up to the bunk bed where Lemmy hung from to snatch it from the air.
"You know he wouldn't like it, Junior!" Iggy called from a corner of the room that Ludwig couldn't see.
"I say give up on looking for his attention before you're sorry!" Morton bellowed, lumbering in Junior's way.
"Why does he hate me? Why does everyone hate me? What did I do wrong?" Junior blubbered through tears.
"Well honestly, kid," Roy started before slowly sauntering over to the young prince, towering over him, "You were born." He then caught the wad of paper without taking his eyes off of Junior and held it high above his head. "You want it, runt? Try and get it."
Junior in a fit of childish rage huffed and proceeded to headbutt Roy in the gut. While the older koopaling was in shock, Bowser Jr. scurried to grab the paper and uncrumple it, desperately smoothing out the edges. Ludwig looked on, amused by the display until he realized what the contents of the paper were. It was a crude crayon drawing of Junior and… himself? That was absurd! What impression had he ever given off that would lead the foolish child to believe he would ever want such a thing? Upon a further glance, however, Ludwig was thrown into a fit of horror and seething anger. The poor drawing had been scribbled all over the very music sheet that Ludwig had frantically searched for only minutes ago.
As Roy got back up, he was then slammed against the wall by the force of the bedroom door being swung open. All of the other koopalings as well as Junior fell immediately silent as the eldest of their kind practically dragged the shadows of the hallway in with him. With a tone deadly steady, Ludwig snapped at his fellow siblings.
"GET. OUT."
Roy stood, indignant. "What, don't tell us you're here to defend the kid, your Highness?" he sneered.
Ludwig shot him a glance that read murder and the koopaling backed off, adjusted his sunglasses, and huffed. "Heh, whatever. No need to go all Kooky on us, bro." He said as he exited the room. All the others followed suit exchanging worried glances and some giving mocking gestures back to Junior, leaving only the eldest, the youngest, and the sound of rain clamoring outside.
"Thank you for sticking up for-" Junior was cut off.
"You insolent little worm, do you not realize the gravity of what you have done?" Ludwig shot back at him, tone still oddly level.
"N-No?" Junior replied honestly, voice trembling.
"You have stolen something VERY important to me, do you understand?" the eldest spat, slowly advancing on the younger.
"What was it? I'll give it back!" Bowser Jr. pleaded.
"Oh, no, you've completely ruined it, there is absolutely no possible way to repair such a valuable item." His voice became gradually more tense as if with each word, his composure was slipping. He pointed to the crinkled art on the ground and Junior's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"I'm sorry, I needed paper! I didn't know that was important!"
"Oh, you didn't know. Well I think that you may be lying to me, young prince. You have done nothing but get in my way as of late, so why couldn't I believe that you would intentionally destroy a part of my on true passion as well? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"
"I just wanted to make you something! You guys are always so mad at me, I thought that I could cheer you guys up! Why can't we just get along, I never hurt you guys!"
Ludwig began chuckling dangerously to himself and as a flash of lightning struck outside, Junior was suddenly being hoisted in the air by his bandana, so that he was face to face with he enraged koopaling. "You NEVER hurt us you say. Well my dear little brother," the words hung like venom from his mouth as he pulled the prince closer "Tell that to the kingdom I was destined to rule before you came along." His words were punctuated with a rumble of thunder outside.
It was then that Junior began to cry, the weight of the hostility he had faced breaking him down into a sobbing mess. Ludwig's brow unfurrowed, his sneer relaxed, and he dropped Junior to the ground, unable to formulate anything else to say. Doubt about his outburst crept up on him and took ahold of his heart before he had a chance to deny it's entry. He ran out of the room, his thoughts racing, and his fury directed not at Junior, but instead at himself.
He dashed to his room in a frenzy, unsure how to continue after letting his anger blind him in such a way. In this confusion, he began to swipe papers and quills off of his desk furiously, spilling ink and scattering some of his greatest works to the ground and out the window. Thunder and lightning raged outside as he tore his bedroom apart, flipping chairs and his piano bench until eventually Ludwig picked up the mirror again and paused. His typical well-styled, zero flyaway mane was sticking up every which way with frontal pieces matted to his face with sweat. Tears he didn't know he had been shedding stained his face and his eyes… His eyes burned like a firepit, yet somehow still read as hollow and empty. He couldn't stand the sight of himself and chucked the mirror behind him with a strangled sob of woe and pain.
He heard the mirror shatter in a strangely beautiful cacophony of falling class and roaring flames. Wait… had he heard flames? He whipped his head around and discovered to his terror that the mirror had made a direct collision with the candlestick that had placed atop his piano. He yelped as the flames spread rapidly from various music sheets to his hardwood floor and tried to stomp each fire out, trying desperately to save his work, but to no avail. Eventually the smoke became too much for him to handle and he began to choke and lose consciousness. The last thing he heard before he passed out was a squeaky voice calling out his name in a panic.
He awoke with a start early the next morning in the castle infirmary to the sound of Kamek, the royal advisor speaking to a nurse and the sunlight of morning pouring in through a window. What they said was muffled to him for the most part, but he did pick up on some very important words that got the gears in his head to turn.
"candle…fire…fell unconscious… Junior… ran…help"
Had Bowser Jr. truly gotten aid for him, even though he had been so awful to him only moments before the fire? He knew he had heard that panicked little voice before the smoke got to him, he supposed that he now owes the little brat something. The thought didn't settle right with Ludwig, as he still harbored such a grudge against the young prince, so he chose not to focus on it until he was in his right mind again. He instead decided to tune back into what Kamek was saying, his words clearer now as Ludwig began to wake up more and more.
"He wishes to see Ludwig? Why yes, of course, send the Young Master in. I'm afraid he won't be able to speak to him, but if a quick visit is all he wants…" the old magikoopa's sentence trailed off as small footsteps rang through the room.
"Hi Kamek!" Ludwig tensed. It was Junior.
"Young Master, I must urge you not to be so loud. We are in a hospital, and Master Ludwig needs his rest."
"Oh, sorry." Junior whispered. "Is he gonna be okay, Kamek?"
"Yes. That fire was very intense, and it destroyed most of his belongings, but you did the right thing in running for help immediately. Because of you, he will be out of this infirmary just a couple hours after he wakes up." A pang of guilt hit Ludwig as Kamek had just effectively repeated the thought he was trying to repress. At least he didn't have to sit and stew in this hospital bed for too long. But his room… his music…his piano… gone, and for what? Ludwig tried to swallow the lump in his throat and focus back in on the conversation before he cried.
"Well I just wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna die. I also wanted to leave him this." Ludwig's interest was piqued. What could Junior possibly think was good enough to leave him after his outburst the night previous?
Kamek took a piece of paper into his hands and chuckled softly to himself. He then placed it on the nightstand next to Ludwig, still out of his field of vision. "That was very thoughtful, Junior. Thank you. Why don't you run along, and I will let you know when he is out of the infirmary."
Without another word, Junior ran out of the room. Ludwig thought Kamek had left as well until he heard him speak again. "Master Ludwig, it would do you well to ease up on the Young Master. I'm sure it was not easy to have your training to be a future king go to waste, but you have someone to pass that knowledge onto now. Things may be tense, but I know that if you two try, you would be a wonderful teacher and guide to that child." He then gathered his things and shuffled out of the room.
Finally, alone at last, Ludwig sat up with a bit of struggle. He sighed. This was all too much. The guilt, the anger, the desire to hold onto a grudge that was really his fault alone and no one else's… He wondered if he and all of his siblings had attached this hatred onto Junior because of what it had cost them in opportunity. He seemed like a kind enough child all things considered, he HAD saved him from dying in a fire, after all. Not to mention he had given him a gift. His attention finally fell on the paper beside his bed. Ludwig fully expected a drawing of them together and a cheesy "Get Well Soon" to be scrawled on another one of his music sheets and chuckled bitterly at the thought, However, when he did turn over the paper, his breath hitched.
It was his music sheet. Well, not quite. It was a sheet of blank paper that had a recreation of the old music copied on it with crayons with the lines of the staff squiggled as straight as a young child could muster. He sighed and gave a weak smile. It was a thoughtful gift and would give him a chance to turn around something that was badly damaged for the better. And sure, some notes were missing, and the composition was not complete. It would need a lot of work to become the wonderful piece it was destined to be, but the foundation was there, and Ludwig reluctantly decided he was ready to fight to give it a chance.
Author's Note: Ok so I wrote the preface before I wrote the fanfic and I have to say, this turned out less parodical than I wanted. I actually got really into writing it and it went from an overdramatic parody into something I'm actually a little proud of. I feel like it could actually be a decent serious fic if I didn't make certain moments so dramatic, and if I actually wrote the characters with some dimension (especially the other six koopalings, but hey it was intentional for them to have nothing to do). Anywhoo, it is what it is, and I hope you liked reading it!