#fluff??

“You really ought to wear gloves.” Your words again filling the quiet. As if you’re allergic to the silence in moments like these. You haven’t asked. You never ask. Your husband simply comes home at an ungodly hour with bloodstained clothes needing to be washed and dried blood beneath his fingertips he keeps forgetting to clean. 

He used to be meticulous. The first year of your relationship you never saw anything less than a perfectly rehearsed smile, the gentleman who defied societies expectations and became the face of radio in New Orleans. The courtship had been strange, no discussions of family or a proclamation of love. Simply that your company pleased him. With your family’s connections, the match seemed plausible and even encouraged by those close to you. Continuing your life of comfort. Perhaps in the years to come, you imagined breaking through the polite smile Alastor presented to the world. 

That day came when you found a missing shirt of his in his work bag. The dark fluid had etched into the fibres, it had taken a few hours to remove the stain. He said nothing when it appeared in his drawer along with his other shirts as is, completely normal. Lacking any trace of the events leading to the stain. At dinner he mentioned the shirt, simply thanking you for cleaning it. When you didn’t mention the blood, or question why it had been hidden, he began watching you closer. As if you had passed a hidden test. 

“You are….intriguing, my dear.” is all he said on that first night. Watching as a feint trace of pink etched across your features. The only change in your expression that evening. 

That had been months ago. It started steadily, another bloodied shirt, no longer mentioning his butcher when he supplied an excess of meat for dinner again. Escalating to discussing the missing elite of society and how baffled the police were. Nothing. You never had a reaction he expected. Polite, eased, even happy to discuss such things with him. It was then a thought crossed his mind. Perhaps his wife was indeed truthful when she vowed to stay by his side in this life. Perhaps her love was as twisted a devotion as he hoped. As confounding as it was. He had seen the wretched and false saints of society. Perhaps she was an exception. Perhaps she was worthy of seeing him. 

Now, you were sat with him at your vanity. Your back pressed against his chest. The quiet intimacy of *seeing* each other every day, especially like this. Your brow etched in quiet concentration. Flicking dried clumps of blood from beneath his nails. The cold metal warming in your hand, spreading through his fingertips and into his veins. 

Watching you in the mirror as you diligently care for him. Not as something broken or schrewed. Not as something holy or revered. Simply his, as he was yours. Whatever that looked like to the rest of the world didn’t matter. 

”My dear..?” He waits for your gaze to lift, your concentration broken but that smile never leaving your lips. “Are you…comfortable?” 

Your gaze flicks down to where you’re sitting astride his lap. Moving to stand as you let go of his hand. “Sorry, is that—”

He cuts you off as his hands grasp your waist, pulling you close and holding firm. It’s a bit of a shock to both of you. Alastor clears his throat, maintaining his plausible indifference with a hint of teasing in his words. 

“I asked you if you were comfortable, not to move. And I wasn’t referring to our current seating arrangement.” 

“Oh…” Is all you said at first. Mind focused on his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping your bodies close. Your arms crossed against your chest, but simply as a way to touch his, not a comment of discomfort in the position. “I suppose I am. Comfortable, that is.” 

A soft hum starting deep in his chest. A soothing melody as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Enveloped by your scent he had begun to crave daily. An odd development. Soft muttered words as the heat of his breath teases your flesh. 

”I’m glad, mon Cher.” 

_________________⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨i-idk-i-guess୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹_______________

​Author Note: I love the concept, probs gonna play with it more. Might work on some imagines etc. with the pairing but idk will see. Promise to do more research to make it period accurate if i do, this was just pure vibes. And the banner photos are from google and pinterest, credit to OGs x

The next round of the tournament arrived, every new challenge bringing the semifinals closer. Looking over at the board with all the points tracked for each dojo, guilt formed in your chest at the sight of Miyagi-Do being placed as one of the lowest. Your team was struggling, barely making it through the competition. You had to focus– for everyone's sake, but with Kwon around, you knew he wouldn't make it easy for you.

As the announcer called out your dojo being against Spain's team, your Sensei went over to you, a stern look on his face– it was Johnny. "Look, you know we're close to losing this thing," You gave a nod, though hearing those words felt like a slap. Noticing your anxious expression, he continued, "I want you to show me that you can win. Think you can do that?"

Mustering all the courage you had, you nodded again. "Yes, Sensei."

"Good. You're up first, be ready."

You stepped onto the ring, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Across from you stood Maria Alvarez, the female captain of Spain's team. Getting into position, you took a deep breath, determined to earn a win. At the signal, you immediately went in, closing the distance between you both, doing a quick jab on her stomach, followed by an uppercut.

Maria staggered back, but quickly recovered, jaw clenched as she adjusted her stance before going towards you again. You swiftly moved around, blocking and attacking with precision at any chance. Just as you were going to strike a punch, your gaze looked over at the crowd– and amongst everyone, your eyes met with Kwon's, who was already looking at you with an unwavering gaze.

Before you had the chance to refocus, Maria took your momentary distraction as an advantage, throwing a right hook to your side. Being off balance, you struggled to block and dodge. As the captain landed a spinning back kick to your midsection, you stumbled, losing balance as your back hit onto the mat, making the bell ring—and signaling her victory.

── ⋆ ──

You slammed your fist against the wall, shaking in anger as you ignored the stinging feeling. Your team ended up losing again, resulting in now being on the verge of elimination. First, it was Robby who wasn't focused. Now it was you, too? You blamed yourself for getting distracted easily.

Hearing the door click, you turned around to see Kwon standing there, a slight smirk on his face. He walked towards you, hands in his jackets’ pockets. "Seems like your dojo didn't do well today." He remarked.

"What do you want, Kwon? You got what you wanted already." You scoffed, not letting yourself be intimidated by his antics. Seeing him was the last thing you wanted right now.

"Oh yeah? What did I get, hm?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You know what I'm talking about."

"Ah," Kwon chuckled, realizing that you were referring to the distraction he caused you during your match. He leaned in, his face mere inches away from yours. "But you know— that was your fault, love. Not mine."

"Is it really?" There was a brief moment of silence, just as you turned to leave, he spoke again, this time his voice was softer. "Do you think it's worth staying in Miyagi-Do?" His question caught you off guard, making you go quiet. Without waiting for a response, he left the room.

You scowl at him, almost tripping over your shoes as you continue to run past some trees and a domain. “Calm down? Calm down?! I didn’t expect to be teleported into existence into my favourite video game, Dain! You might be the Twilight Sword but I’m a writer! I work part-time in an animal rescue shelter! I live in Thailand, not Teyvat!” You yell, suddenly stopping in your tracks as a hydro abyss mage pops in front of you and your mind goes blank. Oh, shit.

If you were still playing the video game you’d… do something smart. Probably a hyperbloom team. But you were IN the video game itself instead. Like Tron, but a horrifying fanfiction version instead. And if you were a god or the All-Creator like in all those sagau fics you’ve read, you feel like this probably would have been a good time to unleash your “godly” powers. Nothing happened, to your utter disappointment.

Dainsleif scoffs, but he’s befuddled by what a 7-eleven is and what Thailand is. He understands some of the words you say, but other times nonsense seems to pour out of your mouth. Also your clothing choices were… unexpected. You were the scattered puzzle pieces that he didn’t have the guiding image for so he could put them back together.

By the time you step back, no longer frozen, the abyss mage points its little wand at you and you find yourself choking on water in a suspended bubble.

You let out a choked, muffled scream. It all happens too fast. Your eyes sting and tear up, like when chlorine water from a pool gets in your eyes and it hurts like hell. You can barely see, only blobs in a blurry landscape. If you could actually breathe, you’d think it would look like an impressionist painting. Strokes of a blue and green background, emphasising the blob of black and a mild gold in the center.

The bubble breaks with a sudden pop. You cough out water as your suspended body drops to the ground. The first thing that you focus on are a pair of long black boots. He kneels beside you, observing you curiously. Your lungs take in oxygen greedily as you gasp for air.

“Who are you?” Dainsleif questions. He’s cautious, still on his guard around you. You didn’t seem like a spy for the abyss or particularly dangerous at all. And if you were a spy for the abyss, then there was no reason for that hydro abyss mage to harm you. Yet it did, and the sight of you harmed made his stomach churn subconsciously. It was unusual, since he hadn’t felt this exact feeling of worry since 500 years ago. You were a stranger to him but his body subconsciously acted as if it knew you.

After catching your breath, you let out a sigh of relief. You couldn’t have imagined this would have happened, ever. Maybe you shouldn’t have dropped out of that physics class. You catch him staring at you and you blink twice, just to make sure he’s really there. What the fuck.

It’s all quiet but you shake your head, like a dog shaking out water from its fur. Water droplets land over him and you give him a bashful look.

“Sorry.” You scratch the back of your neck, feeling a bit awkward now that the adrenaline stopped flowing through your veins. Or maybe it was your body subconsciously feeling a bit more safe and secure in the presence of someone it recognized. Whatever it was, you’re much calmer and also a little shy.

He gives you a curious look and says nothing. Neither of you move, observing the other in a silent moment.

You sigh internally, and hope for the best. “I’m not from this world.”

“Hmm. I see.” He muses, and it was as he thought. You were another traveler. But you didn’t look similar to who he had travelled with before. You were completely different, with different hair too and had a clumsy aura to yourself. Yet, it was equally familiar.

“We should get moving, it’s not safe to be out in the open like this.”

“Al-alright? Where are you going?”

“There’s an abandoned camp nearby. Since it’s already starting to get dark, you’ll probably get cold soon, so getting to a fire would be crucial.”

When you arrive at the abandoned camp, you almost collapse in relief. “Ohh, so nice and warm.” You mumble, peeling off your soaked jacket and other layers, so you only have your simple shirt and trousers on. You rub your arms, sighing in relief as you move closer to the fire.

“Don’t get too close, you might burn yourself.” Dainsleif mutters, his gaze redirected towards the fire. He might as well let you get some rest as tomorrow he could ask you some questions. In simple terms, an interrogation.

You sigh, curling up into a ball as you fall asleep by the fire.

The night was one far from peaceful. For the both of you.

Screams ricocheted across the thick forest. Pain blurred every fiery sense that kept you going. Your hearts beating fiercely in your ears, chest heaving in smoke-filled air. For a fraction of a moment you could almost believe it was the end.

The sound of several lightsabers igniting at once caught what was left of your frayed attention, angry dying embers seared into your core. Grievous… Around him were bodies of your sisters, what was left of their brave attempts to fight for their home. It was left to you now.

“Come little witch, face your death like the brave warrior I’ve heard so much about..” Grievous’s ragged voice hurtled from his scorched and twisted throat, screeching out over the clearing.

You back peddled a step, attempting a valiant effort of a fighting stance. Your hands—once steady with confidence—shook around the length of your spear. Your breath sagged in your ears, easing itself into your center. Mother Talzin’s words echoed through your mind,

“You mustn’t let the fear control you, you control the fear. Remember who you fight for. Who you sacrifice for. Strike-“

A scream—distant within your psyche—tore itself from your lungs as you lunged your body forward, spear aimed with deadly precision.

Grievous’s hoarse laughs overlapped themselves, his lightsabers twirling into dangerously colorful blurs and then…..

Nothing.

————————————————————

The sensation of sweat was the first thing that collided with your consciousness, your body jolting up in a sporadic attempt to escape. The same scream from your dream raged out of your throat, cracking with the bubbling tears that slid down your cheeks.

A hand at your shoulder had you whirling your head around, a sharp gasp left your lips. “NO!”

Bedsheets flung from your legs, twisting over your body and tugging you to the floor in a resounding thunk against the cool tiles. “Leave me alone—please!” Pathetic in sound, your voice left you in tattered increments. A vulnerability you would’ve cursed yourself for had you not been in such a delirious state.

Silence overtook the small room, your harsh breathing the only sound that broke it. When the courage to open your eyes finally reached you, you did so hesitantly. A crack of an eye in the direction of the bed. A shadow loomed over you, two gentle glowing golden eyes stared back at you. Far too patient.

Maul…

Another wave of fear found itself coiled in your chest, your breath wavering a half second. “My lord…I apologize.” As quickly as your weightless limbs could carry you, you found position hunched over your knee. “I let myself slip into a slumber instead of keeping guard. I’ll make up for it I prom-“

“What was it that plagued your rest?” Maul’s voice smoothly cut through your fear fueled ramble.

Fretting you heard wrong, you responded cautiously. “My lord?”

A sigh fell from Maul’s lips, spiking another wave of dread. Perhaps he is finally done with my mishaps…The thought wrapped itself tightly around your mind.

“You need not fear me, nor the nonexistent consequences of your perceived failures. I do not wish to harm you.” Despite the undercurrent of reassurance, it helped little to curve over the well of negative emotions pooling through your body.

“Look at me.” Instantly, your eyes were on him. A command not missed. His hand was outstretched, a silent offer.

Temptation shuddered through you, a wave of ease you so desperately needed. His words surely rang true enough, and the look he gave you had to mean something.

So, with creeping wariness, you placed a hand in his. He lulled you back up into bed. His gaze never leaving your own. “The short comings of my past haunt my sleeping hours as well.” It was so minute you almost missed it, the sliver of vulnerability that cracked forth from his words.

A beat of silence passed, not entirely comfortable, but not nearly as tense as before. You awkwardly took the liberty of shuffling closer, clearing your throat. “Mother Talzin conditioned me to be the strongest warrior…I had to be worthy of—“ the words falter on your tongue when you catch his eye again. “I couldn’t take down a simple droid with lightsabers. Not quickly enough.” It comes out sharper than you mean, and you wait tersely to see Maul’s reaction.

A quiet hum protrudes from his thinned lips, a discernible expression flickers over his features. “That was then. You have my aid now, you need only ask and I shall teach you what I know. What I am certain you are capable of learning.”

Such words hit like a fist filled with electricity. Shock curling over every muscle. “But my Lord, I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Perhaps that was true before the fall of our home-world. Now we protect each other, it is how we will survive the rise of this new empire.” Maul gave a squeeze of consolation to the hand still encapsulated in his own, his gaze far too gentle in contrast to the stories you were told about him.

“Thank you, my Lord…” You dip your head in a show of gratitude, a swell of some warm unbidden emotion churned forth in your chest.

“In the comfort of our private quarters, Maul will do.” His voice comes with a certain ease you once had.