Fandom: Super Mario Brothers
Paring: WaluigixLuigi
Rating: NC-17


The Looking Glass is Broken
by Spug

They were not quite the spitting image of each other.

Best to be described as looking into a proverbial splintered mirror. Its shattered lines marring the similarities into subtle differences. The difference in height. The idle length of mustaches. The way the same letter embroidered their caps – only in utter mockery of each other. They even wore the same types of attire.

The same. Only not.

It was in this fashion that made him both attracted and repulsed by the other. To hate someone to your very core at the same time love them greatly.

No. Waluigi finally diverged. Not love. Want. In the same slew of appreciation he gave his own reflection before breaking the glass to pieces. He thought them much lovelier when they laid scattered and broken on the floor; forcing him to look down at what a pitiful state they'd been reduced too. His maverick grin sprawled across his face in a leering smirk sneering at his accomplishment.

The same malicious simper he casted down on Luigi when he finally snared the other man.

Details of the days, weeks, even months that had lead up to this very moment were not important in Waluigi's mind. All about the moment – the very smidgen of time he'd been allowed to get the better of his 'better'; or so the Mario Brother's might have thought of themselves. Good always being the better half. Not favoring good – Waluigi would have simple settled that he was not 'the good'. He was more than the other and that's what mattered. They'd best leave labels such as 'better' or 'greater' out of it.

Now with a shoe firmly pressing the other man's face into the dirt – he felt so much more the reflected one and not the reflection itself. Waluigi adored the mirror of himself in that sick fantastic way that made it okay to cause it pain. He wanted to show the man how much the very idea of him existing made him feel.

Powerful and twisted.

Luigi himself was a lesson in needle thin contrasts to the taller Waluigi. Beautiful greens and blues to moody purple and black. Thin and lean to emaciated and sharp. The flaring blush on his cheeks exposed how vastly less appealed he was to the situation that had been presented to him. Luigi had squirmed and fought for quite a while – but it was to the point were he'd simply worn himself down. One of his straps had been torn completely askew from his overalls and laid limply to the side. Belly down on the ground the smaller man's body ached from kicks and punches while Waluigi only seemed marred with pride and lust.

Even the sight of the dirt smudged onto both Luigi's skin and clothes made for a wonderful wanton image. Waluigi found 'roughed up' to be the perfect ensemble to go with the stain of red he'd already set awash down the other's chin. It was almost beautiful.

Luigi hadn't much to say even at the beginning of the attack asides from flabbergasted blurbs of surprise and constant squalling for his brother. Another reflection of someone very close to Waluigi himself – but of who didn't ignite the same kind of fiery hatred and passion. And now – sprawled on the ground the brother in green had nothing conversational to say even as Waluigi finally removed his foot from his face and replaced instead a bony knee squarely into his back. Only wheezes for air and subtle groans hissed out hotly between reddened teeth. There was even a few near-black droplets clinging to the curled mustache so much thicker then his own.

With a licentious chuckle Waluigi leaned his wiry frame down over Luigi; his own gloved hand batting the cap from that head to expose a disheveled fluff of brown to which he roughly slid his own dirty gloved fingers into twisting sharply – craning the other man's neck painful so he could bring their mouths a mere inch apart.

“You're-a pathetic.” Waluigi purred and then licked the blood away from Luigi's mustache with a slow slimy drag of his tongue. The other man's blood even tasted different then his own. Less heavy and more pure then the thick salty ooze he often nursed from his own wounds. It was a flavor he'd relish in bliss and yet swallow as if it was the most disgusting thing he'd ever attempted to devour.

After that he wasted no time mashing his lips against Luigi's -- dragging his tongue over the bloody teeth; gulping down the yelps and whimpers that escaped all the while keeping the other man's head cocked at an agonizing angle. He could feel the tremble of the tendons in that thin neck straining and the urge to keep twisting till he felt it snap like a delicate stem of a flower was nearly overwhelming.

Instead he broke the kiss shoving Luigi's face back into the ground just so the man would writhe and buck for his enjoyment. Grinding down for countless times he'd had his own face literally and figuratively nosed into mud. Treating his alter ego as his own megalomaniac one had been so many times. He kept the pressure and ruthless mashing till Luigi shuttered under him – body ceasing in its struggles. The ground was too solid to smother the other man with its dirt and grass; but the action satisfied Waluigi.

Torment aside. It was now time to get down to business. Waluigi wasted not a breath on shifting his knee off the other man; holding Luigi down still by his head. Hands going to snag the other strap from off that slim shoulder. He did not unbuckle but tore it free. The article was work worn and deteriorating – the strains pulling apart like melting cheese when just the right amount of pressure was applied. He did not cease with the straps alone – with nothing to keep them lock to the smaller man's shoulders the rest of the overalls were hustled down, past hips and ass alike to be pooled at the kook of Luigi's knees. Far enough down to be out of the way. The same measure of attention would be giving to the mushed green shirt the other was wearing; it was hitched up just enough to expose the smooth tannish skin marred with scars.

Waluigi chuckled viciously as he straddled the other man's upper thighs. Bending his own long spine to dip his head down to the line of Luigi's spine. He examined the differences here as well. Luigi had just enough flesh on his body to keep the bumps of his spine from showing as they did painfully on Waluigi's back – but as Waluigi ran his tongue alone the concaved area he could still feel every single one. Luigi made a distressed sound and Waluigi wondered what other strange new noises he could invoke from his splintered self-image.

When he decided to bite into a shoulder blade – Luigi whimpered.

When he let loose the grip on his head dragging both his gloved hands around that thin chest and down to where courser hair began at the apex of his bellybutton – Luigi whined.

When he boldly jerked his hips forward nudging the obvious tent in the front of his own overalls against those cotton covered cheeks to express his wanton devious excitement -- allowing no question on what he attended to do this very day – Luigi gasped loudly.

A gasp that turned into a whimper. A whimper that morphed into struggles again. Struggles that were fawned upon cruelly as Waluigi reached down with both his gloved hands and ensnared Luigi's wrists. Jerking them backwards he forced the other man's arms up onto his own exposed back and then slid both the captured items into one of his own – bigger, longer, stronger fingers. These imprisoned items were then wretched upward toward his mouth so that he could bite at them -- straining their tensity till Luigi screeched in agony.

Like the shattering of glass it was music to Waluigi's ears. He wanted to stomp and pound till every single shard had screamed becoming dust under his cruel ministrations. He tore his mouth away from the now bleeding joint and laughed darkly up at sky and clouds that were witnesses to his acts.

It was time for Waluigi to shoot the final ball and win the game over his askew pathetic little alter ego. Time to break the mirror.

Free hand clawed into the other's underwear; yanking them down far enough to expose the soft flushed-red skin of Luigi's ass. The smaller man began a bubbling beggary now – something that Waluigi found precious. Something that only fueled the fire of his benevolent lust.

“Scream Scream Scream. Noone will-a hear you. You-a just be screamin' for-a me.”

Long needle-like legs were shifted between the shorter ones of the man he held pinned to the ground. Waluigi reached up and unfashioned the buttons on his own black overalls making haste to get them down to his waist and out of the way. As it sprung free his cock proved to be as skinny and long as the rest of him. The mushroom tip already leaking with anticipation of defiling the innocent mirror of himself. Bony knee was jammed up into Luigi's crotch -- forcing the man's ass upward as he spluttered and gagged in the curtless cruelty of the blow.

Waluigi cared not if Luigi enjoyed this one bit. When he spat into his open palm and slathered it along the length of his cock he only did so for his own comfort. His congenial concerns for his reflection was based on how he felt. He simple wanted Luigi to be one with him in the most abject way. Gripping even tighter to the wrists he held, Waluigi took hold of his penis in his free glove as he pressed it between the smaller man's asscheeks. He was met with uncompromising resistance but he wasn't here to compromise in the first place. Snarling he jerked his hips forward and was rewarded with a guttery scream as he sunk into tight hot heat.

Between the first initial penetration and the point where he reared all the way back out, Waluigi could hear the mirror beginning to shatter -- but instead of punching he slammed his groin forward hilting his cock to the balls inside the other man. The utter shutter of dolor and agony that shook from Luigi's body to the very core of Waluigi's soul found the taller man his euphoria.

The rape was short but brutal. Waluigi pumped into the smaller body hard enough to bruise his upper thighs. Any and every noise Luigi made only heightened the sadist pleasure of it. At one point he let go of those thin wrists and simple hutched over like a starved wiry animal – fucking aimlessly; ruthless till he felt his insides tighten; and with a near painful burst of energy he gave one final thrust.

When he came he groaned his own name wetly into the other's ear.

Then once more he stood over the other smirking heinously; looking down at the other man. He finally felt the smaller man was exactly as he'd always pictured him.

They were not quite the spitting image of each other.

But at least now Luigi looked how Waluigi always felt he should feel.

--

Upon returning home Waluigi stepped past Wario without a word. His older brother didn't even bother to look up from the coins he was counting. He didn't see the blood on the taller man's overalls or the sick smile on his face. He wouldn't have cared anyway.

Hours later Waluigi found himself in his favorite spot. Standing naked before the body length mirror in his bedroom. His ribs stuck out painfully and he could see the bruises forming on his upper thighs. In his noisome opinion he looked perfect. The 'better'.

Engaged in perverse adoration of himself – Waluigi did not hear his brother let out a yelp, nor the thud that followed. He leaned in closely to the mirror and pressed his lips to the glass that only had a couple cracks. He felt as if he could appreciate his reflection from now on -- maybe he wouldn't shatter this mirror. But as he pulled away from the cool surface of the glass his reflection had company.

It was not quite the spitting image of his brother.

Its bristled mustache was much bushier. Its short stoat form not nearly as pudgy. Its blue eyes blazed with unnerving vendetta, with utter distraught fury; with the love for someone who'd been hurt like no one should ever be.

A gloved hand grabbed the back of his head and began to slam his face repeatedly into his mirror. Slamming and cursing in hissed Italian. Not his own name – but his reflection's. And when he finally crumbled to the ground face down in shards of broken glass the beaten reflection that gazed back at him was painfully familiar.

It was quite the spitting image after all.

The End.