Author: I got sucked into the Luigi Death Stare meme for Mario Kart 8, but since I: 1) don't own the game, and 2) don't know how to make videos for shit, I write instead. I'm entertained by an evil-ish Luigi, given his canon-personality. If you watch Game Theory's "Mario is Mental" video, you can kinda see Luigi's snap being justified, too. I've always like Luigi better anyway. ANYWAY. Have a fanfic. That may-or-may-not be continued.

Disclaimer:The first Super Mario game was released two years before I was born. There is no way in hell that the franchise is mine.

No More Mister Nice Guy

Luigi drummed his fingers against his arm and stared out at the racetrack.

The first races were to begin the next day, and he was looking forward to them, perhaps more than he ought to. But, to him, they represented an opportunity, a chance to show that he wasn't just Mario's brother, that he wasn't just Daisy's boyfriend, that he wasn't just anything.

Luigi took the keys to his kart out of one of his pockets and turned them over slowly between his fingers. He was tired of being Player-2, of being in his brother's shadow, of being overlooked.

They were the Mario brothers, not the Luigi brothers.

Everyone knew of the romance between Mario and Princess Peach, it was a given that Mario would one day be a king when Peach ascended to Queen.

But, him? Luigi? He was only partly a hero, a hero by association. His relationship with Daisy would obviously be only a passing thing until someone like Mario came along to sweep her off her feet and far away from Luigi.

Everyone knew of him, but very few people could actually claim that they knew Luigi for Luigi. It was unfair to be delegated to second-fiddle when he hadn't been able to prove himself in any meaningful way in the first place. Time and again he asked, begged, Mario to let him come along, but he was always turned away.

"It's too dangerous," Mario would tell him with an infuriatingly charming smile. In those three innocuous words were a whole host of meanings that Luigi finally, finally, saw.

Luigi had first perceived it as brotherly concern, as love. Mario wanted to protect him, of course he did. Mario had experience saving the Mushroom Kingdom; Luigi did not. Everything he did was for Luigi's safety and for the benefit of everyone in the Kingdom.

Now, Luigi knew differently. Now, he knew what Mario really meant.

"Don't steal my thunder."

"I don't want people to see that you're just as heroic as me."

"You'll only get in my way."

"You're not as strong/smart as I am, you won't be able to do the things I do."

And, perhaps worst of all: "I don't love you enough to include you in my life."

Luigi's hand clamped down around his keys and he let out a long, slow breath.

I will not be number 2 any longer, Luigi resolved.

The Luigi that his friends and brother would meet on the track the next day would not be the Luigi they expected. He was out to win, and would happily sacrifice anyone who got in his way. What had being a "nice guy" gotten him anyway?


Nothing except an eternal spot in Mario's shadow.

Luigi pocketed his keys again and walked towards the stalls where all the karts were kept.

Tomorrow, everything is going to change, Luigi thought grimly, a smile tugging at his lips. Luigi ran a hand over the gleaming curves of his own kart, marked visibly with an L. His eyes narrowed and he hissed through clenched teeth when he detected the faint impression of an M—of course his kart was one of Mario's cast-offs, one he didn't want. Luigi always got the hand-me-downs, from toothbrushes to (if he was brutally honest with himself) girlfriends. Luigi had very little that he could claim as his own.

Luigi felt a surge of hate, and he glared at Mario's kart, parked right beside his own.

As his blood pounded in his ears, as his body tingled with the strength of the emotion he had suppressed for so long, Luigi resolved: He won't know what hit him.