I know I don’t post writings here often, but I wanted to write something for @lizadale’s Dimigi!au. I don’t know Libby if you dream about the Dimigi!au but sometimes I do. I blame you sis. But also I added a lot more since you read the smaller version, enjoy almost 3k words on only part one of many.
Sorry it is written in 2nd person, but I blame Libby for getting me to only function in this style of writing but I can’t seem to write in any other prospective anymore lol.
I color coded characters, but what sucks is that this one doesn’t have black so I can’t use one of my original colors for characters speak. So the color I planned for one character had to move to the heart and the hearts color was originally black >:[ But I hope you enjoy.
Calamitous Revelry
Part I
Luigi Prov
CW/TW: Trauma, abuse, triggers on abuse, mentions on drowning/strangulation
You run your fingers through his greasy, tangled hair. Every time he goes on a mission, it seems he neglects basic bodily functions. The longer he’s off on one of his Merloo missions, the more worried you become. It brings you back to the days of the Castle, how he only seemed to eat when the other members were shoving food in his face at the required meetings. Even back then, his mask didn’t hide much from you. He had long given up before joining that group. It just frustrated you so much, he puts his own well being always being last on his list.
”Can you be more gentle?” He spoke very softly, but the voice cuts through the silence. His fragile, small body, leaning against the frame of the claw foot bathtub. It knots your stomach seeing him like this. Why did he always do this? Why was being away from you for any extended amount of time so collapsing to his mental state? Were you the only thing keeping him from self-destructing?
”Sorry. You really knotted your hair this time. I am trying my best to be gentle.” You reply softly, not wanting to cause him to jump and flee. This was close to being just as bad as when you found him almost dead in the deteriorating remains of Castle Bleck. Dimentio being caked in blood and dirt. You were hardly able to handle how much came off of him then, but even this was trying to match up to that day. Right now, the bath water was darker than your tan skin. You click your tongue, a Dio habit that you had seemed to pick up sometime throughout the course of living with him. Very glad that you had rolled up your sleeves above your elbows before even starting to wash him. And the water being this dirty before you even started to actually scrub his body! You click your tongue again in annoyance and frustration.
You knew Dimentio wanted to teleport away. Especially after he walked into the house. Well walked was even an understatement. He half floated, half dragged his feet across the threshold when he opened the door to your entrance. You swore he was going to collapse there in the entrance if you hadn’t been there to grab him and hold him with your own weight.
What shocked you more was the jester actually complained as you fondled him in worry, going down your own checklist in your head as you did so. First, checking him for injuries since he did have some blood caked on his clothes, and you weren’t sure if that blood was his or another’s. Which raised even more questions that you knew he wouldn’t divulge answers to you. So giving up on even prying into the matter, you scoop him up bridal style, and rush him up the stairs. Your lips placing kisses on his scars around his left eye, making sure to not miss a spot and to distract him from what you had planned ahead.
He started struggling in your grasp as you started running warm water in the tub of the finished guest room and declothed him. The caked on clothes were a pain to get off of his dirtied skin. Through the frustration of removing the clothes piece by piece, you confirmed at least most of the blood on his clothes were not his. Which did not lighten the feeling of comfort you wanted from his return, it concerned you more. Whose blood was this and did they deserve such injuries from him? But you shake your head, another series of questions you would not get answers to. You needed to get him clean before you would even get any chance to put food in his system. Let alone would your mind allow you to put him on the back burner and cook food when you knew he needed to be cleaned up right away.
The jester complained as you worked on completely bringing him down to his birthday suit, still double checking for any injuries that may need stitches or extra care. He complained to you until you submerged him into the warm bath water, that’s when his demeanor changed. He then held onto you as if his life depended on it. As if the water in the tub would drag him below the water's surface and take his last breath. You also knew if you looked away, he would quickly teleport away. And your goal to get him cleaned up would long be abandoned.
It takes you way too long to comb out the knots and grime out of his hair, but this makes you feel a bit better. Well, until you wrap your arm around him; your forearm resting across his chest and placing your hand under his armpit. It always takes you by surprise at how tiny he is, not just in height, but in size. Your body is giant compared to him. And you were use to being called “too skinny”, but even you didn’t complain to the man you held in your arms.
You lean forward, and with your free hand, you begin to drain the dirty water in the tub. You really needed to replace it with fresh, warm water. His body tenses at the water starting to run again to refill the tub. The jesters heart was beginning to race in a panic from this. You press him tighter to you, slowly soaking your own shirt. What good did you get from rolling up your sleeves to only press a wet twink to your chest. But still, you do not let him pull away, hoping that he can feel your heartbeat through the wool top. Yet you also hope that he doesn’t feel the Chaos Heart beating as well in your chest.
”I am NOT letting you go.” You whisper softly into his right ear, your mustache tickling it. Dimentio squirms in your grasp, fighting his own instincts to flee. Every nerve he had, you knew told him to get away quickly. You bring your lips to his ear, pecking it with a soft kiss. His body squirms more at his own signals being challenged. A challenge to fight staying and be adored by you or flee due to the rising water in this situation.
”I won’t let you drown.” You speak sternly to him, not sure if it was in assurance for you or him. You start to nibble on his ear, your free hand grabbing the washcloth and rinsing it under the spout.
You can feel his fingernails dig into your arm as the water rises above his hips. You wince at this, but start to scrub the dirt and grime off of his legs and feet. You take extra time on his swollen ankles in another attempt to calm him. Letting your hand through the wash cloth slowly message his swollen ankles to make sure he didn’t do more damage to them then what appeared on the surface. You find yourself at a loss when you run the washcloth over his ribs. Your stomach turns seeing the jester's ribs through his skin so easily that you could count every one of them. It upsets you so much that he is neglecting himself when he is away from you.
”Luigi.”
You grumble, tightening your grip, mumbling under your own breath. Why was he like this? Why was he so willing to throw his life away? So many cared for him. He had more worth than he thought or believe he had.
”Luigi!”
You can feel your own anger bubbling and building in your body.
No one.
No one.
Not even yourself. Not even in the dreamscape. Not even against the chaos heart, or even in your own dreams, were you willing to throw your life away so easily. A growl builds in your throat and comes out through your own words. “Why are you like this?”
“Lui!”
Thu-Thump…
You freeze up, your body stiffens at your own thoughts. Only Dimentio was ever able to rile up so much negative emotions in you. King boo wasn’t even able to do this to you.
“Lui-“
Thu-Thump.
You feel his fingernails claw at both of your arms now. Digging deep enough to draw blood.
Thu-THUMP.
The nails dig deeper and deeper into your arms, clawing down from your elbows to your hands. With what little nails the jester had left, were tearing at your arms. You knew he feared water, but this was ridiculous at how much he was trying to get out of being cleaned by you. You tighten your grip to this, growling loudly in frustration and anger at Dimentio.
THU-THUMP!
Water splashes onto your pants, snapping you out of your own thoughts. The buzzing sound in your ears is replaced with the sound of splashing. Your eyes widen in shock as you quickly pull your hands away from his neck. Your arms and hands dripping from blood from the number he did on you.
You watch him in worry and shock as the ancient quickly yanks himself from under the water's surface. Dimentio’s body was shaking uncontrollably from fear, coughing and gasping from the need of oxygen that deprived him. You were unsure of how long you had held him under, but the water he was coughing up said enough. His lungs were trying their hardest to clear the water that you had forced into them. The ancients eyes never leave your bloody, shaking hands.
No…
No.
No! You would never do that to him.
Never!
THU-THUMP!
You can hear the heart beating loudly in your ears and chest.
”I’m sorry Dio. I-It wasn’t me,” you stutter though a shaky voice, “I promise. It was th-“
You reach your shaking hands towards him in assurance. But the second you do, the familiar sounds of the jester teleporting away before you can even finish your explanation. Your eyes now staring at a bodiless bathtub full of fresh water, with swirls of red in it.
”C-Chaos H-Heart….” You finish, your voice trailing off to a soft whisper.
THU-Thump…
You let your arms drop to your sides in disbelief. The heart had found another opening, this time by your emotions. It had taken advantage of your emotional loophole, and went after what was the biggest threat to it. The one you loved…
It wasn’t you. You would never do that to him.
Never…
Never!
The image of Dio’s scared. No, scared was an understatement. He was terrified. And when you closed your eyes, that expression from Dimentio showed on the back of your eyelids. The bathtub overflowing, starting to soak your jeans and socks.
You needed to fix this. But could you even fix it? You stand, ignoring the tub overflowing and slowly flooding the bathroom. Your soaked socks splash in the water as you walk over to the sink, ignoring your own discomfort. You pick up the phone with shaky hands. You were having such trouble dialing the number correctly on the keypad, that you changed to your call list and clicked the forth or fifth recent call down.
You lift the cell to your ear and after a few rings you hear an ecstatic voice that didn’t match the feelings you were having right now.
”Gigi! It’s been a while. What-“
”Mimi. I fucked up badly. I need Nassy’s help, now. It’s too much to explain. Please…Please tell her it’s urgent.”
”That bad? I’ll get a hold of her ASAP. Keep your door unlocked Gigi. You better be ready to explain then.” You hear the phone click to Mimi hanging up and you drag yourself out of the bathroom. Your wet socks slush against the carpet of your guest room, and you force yourself down the steps. The house sounds oddly silent, except for the sound of what you believe is still the bathtub running. You must have forgotten to turn off the water, but you don’t seem to have the energy to bring yourself back up the stairs.
You bring yourself to the couch and work on removing your drenched socks. Your hands are shaking so badly that the simple task is more of a challenge than it should be. You discard your socks on the floor near you and you pull your legs up to you on the couch, making yourself as small as your body would allow you to.
You bring your eyes to your hands. Your hands rough with calusis from all the tinkering and hard work you did, middle class work. Though it had been a while since you had seen blood oozing from them. You shake your head.
His body was so small, so fragile. He was so easy to force under the water with your hands. It was even easier to wrap your fingers around his thin throat and start squeezing. He would have been easy to break, easy to finish off. You could snap him like the twig he was. Would anyone really miss him? Didn’t he deserve to be dead? He still attempted to go after IT. He still wanted to go after his original goal with the heart. He wasn’t a fighter, he was weak in that aspect. You could so easily break him, all you would have to do is grab his neck and snap it. He deserved that.
“Enough!” You yell to no one in particular, grabbing at your own greasy hair. Heck there were times you would have never fought those thoughts after everything he had put you through, but these thoughts weren’t your own. You growl at yourself for letting the heart dig into your thoughts and emotions over Dimentio. He confused you so much and had your emotions everywhere. You had anger towards him, frustration, confusion, annoyance, but most of all…you loved him.
Thu-Thump.
You grasp your shirt above your own heart. You couldn’t imagine a day without him anymore. You wanted to spoil him with affection that he was long deprived of. You wanted to show him what the world should have long given him. You so badly wanted to let him figure out what the true meaning of his emotions towards you were. Why did this relic have to be such a problem, and everyday you were losing more and more to it. You bite your bottom lip. You couldn’t lose to it, so many would fall if you lost. It would return to where it was taken from. It would reopen the void that you had worked so hard with your friends to close. If you could rip it out yourself and stop it from what it was made to do you would, but you were already told what that outcome would be.
A loud bang on the door causes you to jump from the couch, almost hitting your head on the ceiling from surprise. Only for the silence to be followed by the door slamming open before you can even take a step towards the entrance. The voice booming louder than the door hitting the wall or knocking combined.
“Ye here lad? We rush’t here as fas’ as we coud. Dimensoon stil’ a’ problem withoot tae wee yin crossin’ tae gap fir us.”
(An idea of a fluff scene inspired by @lizadale 's Dimigi stories. I hope you all enjoy! Luigi's POV, by the way ❤️)
You think for some time, staring down at fistfuls of oddly coloured fabrics in your hands. He'll like it. You almost seem to try and convince yourself for a moment. Again, you sift through them.
First was the huge piece of white material, which when you flipped it over, you got a beautiful sea of stars and what felt like a portal to space. Ah, count Bleck's cape. Very high quality fabric. Just Textured like your jersey that Dimentio had liked before.
Then, a black one. Oh. With gold buttons on. And a neckerchief of green. It must have been his. Or rather, yours. But not you. You try your best to breathe through the hard lump that accumulated so fast in your throat. And, just as quick, a little twinge in your chest. Breathe, breathe, the longer you look at it, the less overwhelming it will be. The less the heart will have control over you. Just desensitise. You blink many times with shuddery breaths staggering through you. Every glance hurts, but a little less than the last. It was Mr. L's shirt. It was hard for you to see. But it was clean. All the fabrics were now.
You'd gone to all this trouble to go back and get these. This bundle of clothing and materials were the same pile of colours that clashed the day you saw Dimentio huddled unconscious in them. They were previously stained in blood, sodden and crusty. Dusty and an overwhelming smell of rubble and antiques. You'd cleaned them all tenderly. First by hand and then in a washing machine.
Next was a patch of what you could gather of Dimentio's old attire. A small patchwork square of purple and yellow. You had actually salvaged two small fabric squares of it. And, as you peered into a bag to the side of you, something else, but you'd already fixed that.
Following this was a polkadot fabric. Yellow mainly, and then white dots. Mimi's. Then a skirt. Red and black. Oh, that's no skirt. And if you'd have said that to O'chunks... well, who knows what would have happened. You feel your lips curling upwards as one of your thumbs lightly rubs over each one. Time to get to work.
When Dimentio finally arrives home from his day out with the flopside Nolrem and managing a shithole of a dimension, he looks just a little overwhelmed. And you feel the tension in your chest as you grip the bag you'd stuffed the things into.
Oh dear. This may hurt him more. I don't want to do that. Please. Please be okay with this. If I just explain it maybe it'll b-
"OW!" You exclaim, feeling a notch of your skin retract from between his pinched fingers.
"You're worried. I was too long gone, was that the problem?" Dimentio asks, rubbing the patch where he'd nipped you. The heat of the tight pinch started to fade. You shake your head, then tipping it towards the bag you're holding.
"I... I got you something. Well, us, something..." You answer. He smiles a touch, reaching for it. As he grabs it, you feel your hand clench in protest. Don't, don't!
"Well, won't you let me see? A little odd that you would make something and not let me have it." Dimentio squinted at you and forcefully pinged each of your fingers from the loopholes of the bag.
Your stomach scrunched. The heart. It was pulling you down. But at the same time, you knew, somehow, that you both needed this in your lives.
Dimentio pulls a large quilt out from the bag. All knitted together. A collection of the fabrics he once swaddled himself in. The members of team Bleck. Their attire. All here. His face screwed for a moment as he went to smell for the cold, earthy, aged deteriorating smell. What he expected wasn't what he got. Detergent and soft feels, smells of lavender and a couple of spices. You knew to put warm smells in there, and not watery fragrances, of course.
"I... I thought we could have it as a momento. You know... our pasts aren't getting any easier to deal with. So, if we work together to get over it, and remember there's comfort in our tale somewhere... maybe desensitising ourselves to these and purposefully looking at the bad and turning it into a positive will help? Its okay if it stays in the wardrobe for a while, I'll understand..." You disclaim. Because you have to. You can't just leave it. You have to tell him and demonstrate to him that you didn't do it for his past to haunt him.
Dimentio goes through some facial phases. First, a touch of confusion. Then a hit of fascination. Followed by admiration as he swept his gelled bangs aside to look at the seems you'd knitted. The texture differences of all the clothes, the knitted seems, the colours. Everything was so distracting but yet beautiful all at once. You notice that the longer he stares at this thing, the more his mouth tries to open and say something.
"Thank you. This is, actually, genius. You singlehandedly made this. And you didn't have a meltdown while seeing-" He points at the black fabric with a green bandana. Your hands clasp together and fidget for a minute.
"Yes. Just a little. But I listened to you. I wanted to be brave. No matter how many times you tell me to shove a sour candy in my mouth, dunk my head in cold water and all the rest when I'm stressed... it takes a lot for me to notice that I'm actually stressing... You, on the other hand, can notice it a mile off. So when you remind me you're here, pinching me and waking me up... I dunno. You see, I wanted to expose myself to stress but make something good out of it... and maybe that way I'll get to get a little stronger while battling the heart. While being on my own." You blabber on. Your true intentions laid bare in front of him now. No harm done, no intention to hurt, I hope you see it.
Dimentio looks down at it again and swiftly curls the large blanket around himself. A jester burrito. And you cannot believe it. So early on, he's wrapping it around himself. You were prone to thinking it would be banished from his sight until he could cope. Apparently, he's gotten better with things being the way they were too. This is news. And good one, at that.
"Ah, there's more!" You nod at the bag again. Dimentio peers inside and pulls out a smaller granny square. It was his old uniform, but with small bells around it. He shook it delightfully, listening to their teeny individual chimes. Each one sounded different, but together they sounded far better.
Then, one more. Dimentio finally pulls out the last item... and his face. Oh his face. That smile. A genuine one. That curled from ear to ear and it wasn't threatening. Thank grambi. His old mask sat in his hands. It was all pulled together and stuck into one piece. However, the cracks were visible. It wasn't one of the seemless repairs like it was brand new, because what was the point of that? Oh no, this one's shattered pieces were bonded together with gold.
"Y'see the method here was to see the cracks and how much you've healed. I heard it was call-"
"Kintsugi. Yes, I'm familiar with it. And I can see why. I see its repair methods are similar to that of when you are using that soldering iron. These crafts aren't a far cry from what you stand for. Healing things by stitching them up and nurturing them, followed by fixing things and yet embracing their far from perfect past. I must say... these are exquisite. Thank you." Dimentio cooed, now rushing to fill in the blank space between you and him.
His warmth. That familiar feel of a job well done. It was never going to be easy, being away from him time after time when he went away to fix dimensions. So you thought it to be a good idea of getting stronger to fight the heart on your own. Though surprised, Dimentio actually started to look happy about it. And over the past few weeks you could visibly tell that he was, catching feelings for you. Nothing really backhanded was going on. And you could breathe without second guessing. You could breathe without the heart, because he was right there, helping it to sink deeper away from you. The cuddle was so tight that it felt like the chaos heart could get shit out, quite frankly. And the thought was tickling.
"By the way," Dimentio muffled into your chest, coming up for air to stare you dead in the eye.
"This is still not a decent substitute for your clothing. As much as it is deeply appreciated, leave a bundle of your clothes to me. If I should find an empty wardrobe at any time, I will kill you." He informs. Looks like laundry day, no matter how hard you try, was still going to be a fight...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Dimēn | Dimentio/Luigi, Count Bleck | Blumiere/Lady Timpani | Tippi
Characters: Dimēn | Dimentio, Luigi (Nintendo), King Boo, Akkumu | Antasma, Oba Ken | Polterpup, Count Bleck | Blumiere, Lady Timpani | Tippi, O'Chunks (Super Paper Mario), Nastasia (Super Paper Mario), Mimi (Super Paper Mario), Merlon (Super Paper Mario), Chaos Heart (Super Paper Mario)
Additional Tags: Dimigi AU
Summary: You have made promises, all of them about Luigi. Daisy, "Try to save him. Don't let him slip away like this." Mimi, "Please save him, Dimmy. Gigi doesn't deserve this." Even you vowed to save him. Will you succeed? Only one way to find out.
@lizadale I finally reveal myself! I hope you like this first chapter.
