Hi, will you continue with the twisted wonderland monster au? Could you write something about vile, please?
Bed and Desperation
A/n: This ask was from so long ago 😭. Also, I wasn’t too sure if you wanted Yandere or not? The monster Au is a Yandere Au, but just n case I didn’t make it like extreme, kinda.
Pairing: Incubus! Vil Schoenheit x Reader
Summary: [Yandere] Even during a mission, the wretched monsters you hunt can’t leave you alone, and unfortunately, the incubus that accompanies you today is one of them, and it wouldn’tbe the first time you’ve found yourself held by his arms.
Warnings: Heavily Suggestive, as well as implied NSFW, Reader has injuries, Vil’s a meanie, Seduction (Vil to Reader), Stitches, Biting, Part nudity (Reader is in their underwear)
The bedsheets on your mattress smell heavenly.
This isn’t your bed, since when did you wash your blankets?
It also seems to have an extra weight added to it. The softest hands on your waist are felt, as well as the feeling of a skinny tail being tightly wrapped around your thigh.
“What the…” Your eyes look down, glossing over the hand that’s currently spooning you, only looking at the numerous bandaged wounds and stitches on your skin. It’s only when you finally look at the culprit who fixed you up do you understand.
You really should’ve known, with such well-manicured hands that have been moisturized to hell and back, and the most heavenly scent shifting in the air, there really should’ve been no doubt in your mind.
You’re in bed with Vil Schoenheit. The all-famed model and actor, who’s well renowned for his feats.
The well-known incubus who has led millions to their downfall.
And unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the first time you were in his bed. Seems even a hunter isn’t immune to such charms.
Maybe if I get out quietly… Your hand slowly takes hold of his, moving it away from your waist as you slide to the side of the mattress. Your footsteps are gentle as you glide towards the door, at this point you’re about to turn the doorknob before the sound of the bed creaking attracts your attention.
The sight of bright purple diamond-shaped pupils gives paints an irritation on your face, the purple tattoos of mist dully glowing on his fit lean body, and pretty horns a companied by a golden crown, also serving in your annoyance.
“Your hands are so calloused, even the tiniest touch would have woken me up anyway.”
“Damn it…” his body is propped up on his elbow as he looks up and down at your body, only an oversized t-shirt and underwear covering any sense of decency you have.
You still remember the previous night, having suffered blows with a monster somewhere in the inn you were sent to. You had stripped yourself of your clothes in an empty room to tend to your injuries before losing consciousness from your lack of sleep.
Curse you, Crowley, if you hadn’t sent me on an extra assignment I could’ve gotten some rest and not end up here…!
“Are you gonna thank me? Or does hunting not come with any lessons in etiquette?”
“Thank you for…?” His head leans down with a sigh, before throwing the blanket off and covering himself in his very unnecessarily luxurious robe, you distantly remember passing by a vendor selling the exact same robe for 360,000 madol. I hate rich people.
“What? Did you think you bandaged yourself up in your sleep?” His footsteps are heard as he slowly walks towards you, his eyes still looking over every inch of your body for any injuries he could’ve possibly missed.
“Obviously not… Wait, hey why did you make me sleep in your bed if you were sleeping there too…?!” You don’t move from your spot, staying in place to show you’re not bothered, your finger being the only thing that moves as you point it at him.
When he gets close to you, his face leans in towards your own, making you accidentally lean back from shock, causing a sharp pain blooming on the side of your thigh at that exact moment. He quickly catches you before you have the chance to fall, laying you on his bed once more.
“Hah, look, now you’ve undone my work. I should really…” he pauses before sighing for the second time tonight, “Stay still.” He doesn’t finish his thought, only grabbing a needle and thread, his left hand taking hold of the fat under your thigh, lifting it slightly up so he can work easier.
“You didn’t answer my question Vil…” he looks up for a moment, giving you that prideful smirk he’s always shown when he feels triumph, the ridges on his horns being more noticeable, making the expression he holds remind you, he is in fact, still a monster. You’re sure the next words that leave his mouth will be something you can’t counter, so it’d be best to prepare yourself for embarrassment.
“Hmm? I thought you wouldn’t mind considering we’ve slept in a bed together before, even done more than sleeping—“
“Okay yeah, never mind don’t answer me please.”
“I think it’s a fair trade, let me demean you for being so careless and I’ll get you back to the way you were.” He’s being mean again. Every time you meet him he’s always nitpicking you about some imperfection on your person, whether it be messy hair, wrinkled clothes, eye bags, or even scars from your job.
Yet he always stays to fix them up. You still remember the last time when you had noticeable eye bags and he gasped at the sight, grabbing his own formula of beauty cream and rubbing it into your skin with his fingers.
“Those eye bags of yours are looking better, did you use what I gave you, or did you get better sleep?” His fingers still skillfully sewing your skin together with the thread, the pain bearable but stillthere nonetheless.
“I only did your eye cream, it works though— Hey…!” Now instead of your leg being in pain, it’s your cheeks, his fingers taking hold of your jaw, squishing the fat of your face together.
“That’s not good enough.” When you reply your voice comes out slightly muffled from your muscles being squeezed together, your hand reaching up to massage the soreness in your face when he releases you from his grip.
“Okay okay sorry, Blame my boss, he keeps sending me on back-to-back missions without rest, it’s not my fault!” He pauses for a moment after, the thread through your skin freezing alongside him. “… Vil…?”
“Then why don’t you find a new job?”
“I’m not suited for any other job.” A single leaves him, though you can’t tell if it’s one of humor or one of pity. His hand that was previously holding up your thigh curves and takes your free hand, ghosting his breath over it as he places a kiss on the palm of your skin.
“Riddle said you’re terrible at your job, and, if you didn’t notice, all of us are still alive and well.” He’s acting all romantic while saying such a thing to you. Charm, charm is a part of his pathetic abilities but he doesn’t seem to be using that right now. He’s acting. He’s acting… he has to…
He’s right.
“[Name], it seems out of this entire group, not a single of us has been slain yet. Please, tell me why that is?” He pulls your hand down, making you lean in closer to him, your face only inches away from his own. His pretty face. “I have a better job for you.”
“Are you saying you want me to work for you…?” Your voice stays firm, maybe if you try holding your ground he’ll leave you alone. Maybe…? Your head lingers around his, before realizing this distance is a little too close for comfort.“It’s a no Vil.” You finally move away from them, your eyes looking for something else to garner their attention.
Vil’s eyes don’t break hold from yours despite your desperate attempts to move away from his gaze.
“Pity, you would’ve done beautifully at it, had you accepted. A perfect fit, only if you worked hard at it of course.” Now you’re just curious as to what this secret job was before turning it down. But, you’ll leave it as a mystery.
His fingers sew in the rest of the skin, when he finishes threading the wound closed though, he doesn’t cut off the string, only placing the needle down on your thigh before looking back up at you.
“[Name], you know, you’re beautiful. It’s a shame you don’t make the effort to maintain that.” He takes your hands in his right palm, standing back up to his full height before dropping the two of you on his bed.
“But I do? At least I think so, I do what you tell me to do anyway.” His knee is positioned to the side of your thigh as his tail draws patterns in your skin.
“But that’s not enough, I need you to go further than that, dear.”
…
He doesn’t use dear on you outside of bed.
You really can’t tell if he’s using his charm from being an incubus or just being an extremely good actor. Either way, it’s unfortunately working.
“Vil, I need to go back, my boss will be questioning where I am—“ his finger is swiftly placed on your lips, shushing you from speaking any further.
“And you will go back, I’ll let you leave when you want, of course, just indulge for a moment.” Indulge… He’s being tempting again. “I will make you reach a height you’ve never experienced before.”
For the third time of the night, you’re scandalously doing something with this… this monster, you shouldn’t be doing. Let alone for a third time.
If Crowley finds out… You can’t. Your hand quickly escapes his grasp to grab the needle he left in your thigh, snapping the thread ready to jab it through his eyes.
You’re only a centimeter away from his pupil, only being stopped by a hand that tightly grips your wrist.
“I’m disappointed, and that’s the first time. It’s a shame [Name], it seems we’ll just have to keep playing your silly game of Hunter.” Before you have a chance to react, he pulls your arm up and bites into your flesh, your vision going dark immediately after.
The dimly lit hallways of the inn you were stationed at are the first sight you see, the second being the corpses of the monsters you were sent to kill.
You’re sat on the carpet floors, the moon of the night still shining through the windows. The clothes you were originally wearing are back on your skin, with tears and grime from your previous ministrations still there.
Could he have used hallucinations…? No that felt too real.
There seems to be only one way to check, your fingers grip the end of your shorts, slowly pulling them up, your eyes peaking over and seeing exactly what you hoped you wouldn’t.
Black seams from stitches.
“Damn it…” your head hits the wall behind you, as your arms collect your legs and hug them to your chest.
It’s a shame you spared him the first time around, maybe if you had killed him you would have one less beast on you.
Oh right, he’s not the only one.
You go back to burying your head in your knees, the sound of footsteps resonating through the empty halls of the inn, the light from the windows shining through to show off who it is.
“Crowley, what do you want—”
“That was the third time you met with that incubus wasn’t it?”
…What?
“You know…?” He doesn't have that usual “humble” smile, his lips shut in a straight line, a sight you’re only seeing for the first time.
“I’ve always known.” your heart starts beating faster in your chest. What now? What will he do knowing you’ve broken the code? Everything you’ve done will go in vain if he rides himself off you. You won’t get to see any of them anymore, you won’t be able to finish your job and finally kill them off, you won’t—
Crowley’s hand is wobbly. He’s not real. A hallucination by Vil. Wait but… Is this inn…
Even real at all?
A/n: Ahaha, I need someone to strap me to a chair so I actually finish the first chapter of the Monster Au. Heartslaybul has been neglected and only Riddle’s portion has been finished. Ahaha.
Short short drabbles because I have to make an effort to write but thoughts about being one of Vil’s camera crew…
Tw: Yandere
He’s fired many, many others before you. The price of being an idol to many: creeps.
No matter how well-put together Vil may seem, there’s just something so very disturbing about seeing your condiments disappear one by one, especially his lipsticks. Along with unfamiliar… undergarments hidden in his dressing room with… disturbing stains.
You were the only member of his crew with enough decency to not be obsessed with him. Shocking. Camera crew member keeps their job because they’re a normal human being who respects others. Wow.
However, Vil’s gotten rather… attached to you. It starts out as idle curiosity. You see, creeps means that technically, he’s doing his job right. As they wouldn’t go to such lengths if they didn’t love him and his beauty, right? But you didn’t.
Why? Did you not admire him? Do you not let your eyes wander across his elegant form during shoots? Are you not mesmerised by his enchanting gaze?
Why didn’t you love him like the others?
So he’ll linger around after the shoots, leaning over you as you flip through the images on your laptop, trying his best to catch your eye. From an another person’s view, it was rather much like a peacock trying to court their beloved mate.
Although… you didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. Now Vil is not used to be neglected. He hates it. He’s not as prideful as to demand throngs of adoring fans, but having his charm, his attention, waved aside like it was nothing?
He’s not having it.
Vil’s going to turn on his charm and his stunning personality whenever you’re around. He presents you with bouquets of flowers, picking out outfits with you in mind. You tend to come to work in outfits of a certain colour… so you do like that shade? He’ll mimic your aesthetics, piece together your likes and dislikes from every little bit of information he can get about you. From the stickers on your laptop to the profile picture you have on your dating app.
How did he get your profile? Nothing a quick internet search won’t give him… and also, he has the money to hire a professional hacker. Nothing but the best for you.
Really, all of this starts off as plain, hateful spite. All he ever wanted to do was to win your love, and then discard you like he did the others. But the more he tousles and ruffles his elegance like feathers, the more you look away.
Why? Why won’t you look at him?
He wants your adoring, flushed face starting up at him from your knees, clutching at the clothing he adorns, your eyes mesmerised with him and him alone.
You: Vil, I'm sorry, but my heart has betrayed you. He just burst into my life. He gave me feelings I've never felt before. He bestowed upon me a light that even overshadowed the sun. He gave me what others couldn't give.
Vil: Sweet potato, I hope you really found a lover and not just picked up another stray animal… What's his name?
You: Fluffy, you'll like him
Vil: I believe it, see you in the evening, sweet potato.
You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Housewardens
Other Parts: Vice-Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo
Riddle Rosehearts
The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the rustle of fabric as you flopped onto the couch with all the grace of a cat forcibly denied its favorite sunny spot.
The argument still hung in the air, an unspoken tension that neither you nor Riddle were willing to breach—at least not yet. He wasn’t wrong, not entirely, but he wasn’t right either. The impasse was as thick as the silence between you.
Determined to make a statement, you yanked the blanket off the couch arm and cocooned yourself in it, defiantly turning your back to the door. No way were you crawling back to bed tonight. Your pride wouldn’t let you. Let him stew in his perfectly fluffed, oversized bed.
Meanwhile, in his room, Riddle’s impeccable composure was fraying at the edges. He lay stiff as a board under his duvet, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to all his mistakes. His pillows seemed unusually hard, the blankets too suffocating, and no matter how he adjusted, something felt... wrong.
It didn’t take him long to figure out the culprit: you weren’t there.
He groaned softly into the darkness. Guilt clawed at his insides, sharp and relentless, each tick of the clock making it harder to bear. He’d handled things poorly—he could admit that, now that the heat of the argument had ebbed. And worse, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being upset, out there on the couch, all because of his stubbornness.
With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he threw off his blanket and shuffled into the living room. His breath caught when he saw you.
There you were, fast asleep, your cheek smushed against the arm of the couch, one arm dangling off the side. The sight was far too adorable for the emotional train wreck he’d become. His guilt doubled.
Riddle knelt by the couch quietly, determined not to wake you. But as he crouched there, the exhaustion hit him—of the argument, the guilt, the restless tossing and turning. Maybe just sitting here would suffice. He wouldn’t disturb you.
A few minutes turned into an hour. Before he knew it, he’d slumped sideways against the couch, head lolling onto his arms, fast asleep in what had to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable.
When you stirred awake, the morning light was peeking through the curtains. Groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the previous night’s anger feeling like a distant shadow. That was when you noticed him—his normally pristine figure curled up on the floor, head resting uncomfortably close to your dangling hand.
Your chest ached at the sight. The idiot. The sweet, guilty idiot.
You reached out, brushing your fingers lightly against his hair. “Riddle,” you whispered. “Hey… wake up.”
He stirred, blinking up at you with sleep-clouded eyes, disoriented but instantly softening when he saw your face. Without a word, he shifted closer, arms wrapping around your middle as he buried his face against your stomach.
“Don’t go,” he mumbles, voice thick and quiet.
You freeze but quickly recover, leaning into his embrace. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your blanket. “I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand.”
Your throat tightened, and you found yourself carding your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “Let’s not fight like that again.”
For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in quiet forgiveness. When he finally looked up at you, there was a hesitant, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Will you come back to bed now?” he asked softly.
“Only if you promise to use it too. No more couch-floor accommodations,” you teased, pinching his cheek lightly.
“Deal,” he murmured, and together, you made your way back—closer than before, warmth filling the space where anger once was.
Leona Kingscholar
The argument had been sharp, biting, and the kind of fight where you both refused to back down. Storming out of the bedroom felt dramatic enough to match the vibe, so you grabbed a blanket, stomped to the living room, and threw yourself onto the couch with the weight of your indignation. “Fine,” you muttered into the cushions. “Let him have the stupid bed. I don’t care.”
And at the time, you didn't. You were replaying his snarky remarks and cursing his stubborn attitude. But the couch was lumpy, the blanket too short, and sleep came grudgingly after what felt like hours of stewing.
When you finally woke, disoriented and achy, something felt...off. For starters, you weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in the bed, wrapped snugly in the comforter that still carried Leona’s scent.
Blinking against the sunlight, you sat up, confusion clouding your thoughts. At the foot of the bed was the blanket you’d dragged out last night, now neatly folded like some taunting symbol of Leona’s existence.
And Leona himself? Missing.
You slid out of bed and wandered to the living room, where the answer to your mystery lay sprawled across the couch. The sight of him, however, made your irritation waver.
Leona was far too large for the couch. His long legs hung over the edge at weird angles, and one arm was slung over his face to block the light filtering through the curtains. He looked wildly uncomfortable, but his usual arrogance softened in sleep, his face peaceful and unguarded.
It didn’t take a genius to piece it together. He must have carried you to bed sometime in the night, only to exile himself to the lumpy couch. The guy could be maddeningly stubborn, but this... this unexpected gesture had you torn between wanting to yell at him or simply kissing him awake.
Ultimately, you decided to settle for the middle ground.
Crouching next to the couch, you reached out and brushed the stray strands of hair from his face. Before you could withdraw, one eye cracked open, and a lazy grin spread across his lips.
“Caught ya,” he drawled, voice rough from sleep.
You raised an eyebrow. “You moved me to the bed, didn’t you?”
He huffed, clearly uninterested in owning up to the sentimentality of it. “Couldn’t leave you out there whining in your sleep.”
“I wasn’t whining!” you protested, even though your cheeks were burning.
“Sure you weren’t,” he replied smoothly, grabbing your wrist before you could retreat. With a sharp tug, he pulled you down, practically pinning you against him. “Don’t see the big deal. You’re mine, aren’t ya? ‘Course I’m gonna take care of you.”
The casual way he said it didn’t make it any less sincere.
You sighed, melting into his warmth despite yourself. “I hate how sweet you can be when I’m trying to stay mad at you.”
His smirk widened, and he tucked you closer, burying his face in your hair. “Didn’t mean to piss you off,” he murmured against your temple. “But you’re not leaving this couch till we make up. Deal?”
You rolled your eyes, but your voice softened. “Deal.”
As the tension melted away and his arms tightened around you, the couch didn’t seem quite so lumpy anymore. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad place to be.
Azul Ashengrotto
The argument had been tense, the kind where you both said things you probably shouldn’t have. Frustrated and too stubborn to stay in the same space as Azul, you grabbed a pillow and marched out to the couch. He’d barely tried to stop you, his pride seemingly keeping him rooted in the bedroom.
But pride was a fickle thing, and now you were left trying to fall asleep on the stiff cushions. Every creak of the floorboards made you feel a little guilty, knowing exactly who it was.
You didn’t even need to look; you could feel Azul’s presence lingering in the doorway, his usual composure clearly absent. The sound of shuffling footsteps returned to the bedroom, and you thought maybe he’d finally leave you alone—only to hear those same footsteps inch closer again a minute later.
"Azul, I know you're there," you muttered, cracking an eye open and turning toward the doorway. Sure enough, there he was, peeking out. His glasses caught the faint glow of the hallway light, and he immediately froze like he’d been caught stealing treasure.
“I-I wasn’t...” he started, before trailing off, clearly scrambling for an excuse.
You sighed and sat up, your frustration ebbing in the face of how uncharacteristically sheepish he looked. This was Azul Ashengrotto, the calculating businessman who could sell ice to Yetis—and yet he couldn’t even apologize without peering at you like a child who’d been scolded.
“If you’re just going to lurk there all night, we’re both going to lose sleep,” you said, finally beckoning him over with a wave.
Azul hesitated for a fraction of a second before his composure cracked, and he shuffled toward the couch. “I didn’t mean for things to escalate...” he started, sitting next to you, his head ducked low, voice soft.
You smirked despite yourself. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”
He bristled, his dignity rallying as he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “I am not—”
“You’re very cute,” you interrupted, and the smallest flicker of a pout crossed his lips.
Azul looked away, a hint of color dusting his pale cheeks. “You’re the worst.”
“And you still love me,” you countered, pulling him down beside you. “Truce?”
He glanced at you, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. “Truce.”
Apologies came in murmured exchanges after that, both of you acknowledging where you’d gone wrong. You knew you’d both let pride get in the way—typical for two people as headstrong as yourselves.
Eventually, Azul’s head rested on your shoulder, his warm weight grounding you. You leaned back against the couch, and despite its discomfort, it felt perfect with him there.
“You know,” you whispered, running a hand gently through his hair, “for a guy who’s made half of Twisted Wonderland sign contracts, you really can’t stand your ground for the life of you.”
Azul huffed, turning his face into your shoulder to hide. “Do you want me to apologize again?”
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Nope. I think I’ll just enjoy this.”
And with that, the two of you finally let the tension of the argument melt away, falling asleep together on the couch in an imperfect, perfectly “you and Azul” sort of peace.
Kalim Al-Asim
The argument had been uncharacteristically heated—rare for someone as sunny and easygoing as Kalim—but even he had limits, and so did you. When your stubborn streak flared, it ended with you grabbing a blanket and storming off to the couch.
“No, Kalim, I’m fine. You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here,” you snapped, cutting off his attempts to follow you. His face fell, but for once, he didn’t argue, retreating to the bedroom with a defeated slump of his shoulders.
You burrowed into the couch cushions, determined to stay mad, but as sleep started to claim you, the anger dulled into annoyance. It didn’t matter. He started it, you thought stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter.
A soft rustle of fabric woke you, tugging you from the edges of sleep. Blinking groggily, you turned your head to see Kalim crouched beside the couch, carefully tucking another blanket over you. He had his tongue poking out slightly in concentration, his touch so gentle that it was clear he didn’t want to wake you.
“What are you doing?” you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.
Kalim flinched, looking at you like a startled puppy caught raiding the kitchen. “Oh, I—uh—I just thought you might be cold, so I…”
He trailed off, clearly expecting you to brush him off again. Instead, you sighed, your irritation melting as you realized just how ridiculous he looked, trying to coddle you even while you were angry at him.
“Come here,” you said, sitting up and pulling the blanket back a bit.
“What? No, I don’t want to—”
“Kalim.”
His protest crumbled immediately, and he slid onto the couch beside you, tucking his legs up awkwardly. You wrapped the blanket over both of you, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Kalim relaxed into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice small and earnest. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
You sighed, tilting your head to rest on his. “I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”
He perked up slightly at that, his usual cheer trying to peek through. “So… does this mean you won’t sleep out here alone again?”
“You’re lucky I’m even letting you under this blanket, Asim,” you teased, though your smile softened the words.
Kalim beamed, his arms wrapping snugly around your middle. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me forever!”
You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning back into the cushions. The couch wasn’t exactly built for two people, but the warmth of his presence made it easy to ignore. Slowly, you both drifted to sleep, Kalim murmuring sweet nothings even as his breaths evened out.
Maybe next time, you thought sleepily, you’d just let him win.
“You can have your perfectly fluffed pillows and skincare routine in peace,” you muttered, tucking yourself in with a spiteful sense of triumph.
Vil Schoenheit
The argument left both of you simmering in silence, which for Vil was a rarity. Instead of his usual icy composure, he seemed genuinely rattled. You, however, weren’t in the mood to care. Grabbing a blanket with theatrical flair, you stomped to the couch.
Once comfortably cocooned, you scrolled on your phone, trying to drown out the lingering annoyance. That’s when you heard it—sharp, purposeful footsteps marching toward you.
Before you could react, Vil appeared like a vengeful storm god, looking every bit as flawless as a deity would while furious. With a huff that could make kingdoms tremble, he reached for your arm and began dragging you back to the bedroom.
“Vil, what are you—let me go! I’m fine out here!” you protested, but his grip was firm, his annoyance palpable.
Once you were unceremoniously deposited by the bed, he turned to you, pointing at your neatly made side. “You are sleeping there,” he declared.
You folded your arms. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Deal with it.”
He tilted his head, his expression a dangerous blend of frustration and disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’ve ruined my entire evening, and now you expect me to suffer further by sleeping alone?”
“Ruined? Seriously?” you shot back.
“Yes! I require my beauty sleep, and I can’t possibly get it knowing you’re out there, sulking on a couch. It’s impossible to relax without you next to me—so you, are going to have to take responsibility!”
The sheer audacity of his statement left you blinking. It was so dramatic and entirely Vil that you couldn’t help it—you laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full-bodied, slightly wheezing laugh that made you clutch your sides.
Vil crossed his arms, arching an offended brow. “I fail to see what’s funny.”
“You,” you said between giggles. “This whole ‘it’s your fault I can’t sleep because I love you’ nonsense. You’re ridiculous.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed, and once your laughter subsided, he gestured to the bed again, this time more softly. “Please. Don’t make me sleep without you.”
You relented, sliding under the blankets. As you settled in, Vil switched off the lights, the room going still.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a moment. His tone was sincere, lacking the sharp edges from earlier.
You shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him gently against you. “I’m sorry too.”
Vil let out a contented hum, nestling into your hold. With your body heat mingling and the earlier tension dissipating, it didn’t take long for both of you to fall asleep—together, as it should be.
Sleep came in patches, your mind replaying the fight in a loop. At some point, the dull ache in your bladder forced you to stumble toward the bathroom. On your way back, you froze, hearing quiet, panicked murmurs drifting from Idia’s room.
Idia Shroud
The argument had been rough—sharp words, bitter edges, the kind of fight that left your chest heavy. It didn’t matter how much Idia stammered his way through an apology or tried to explain his side; you weren’t ready to hear it yet. So, in an act of frustrated finality, you grabbed a blanket and retreated to the couch, refusing to spare him another glance.
“Ortho, what do I do? I think I really messed up this time,” his voice wavered, thick with worry. “They probably hate me now. Like, actual hate—no respawn, no restart. I mean, who else would put up with me? I’ve completely blown it.”
You sighed, anger ebbing as guilt trickled in. You hadn’t meant to push him that far, and his usual self-deprecating spiral sounded more frayed than usual.
Pushing the door open, you caught the tail end of Ortho’s voice. “Big Brother, you should—oh!” His robotic eyes darted to you, scanning the scene. A moment later, he gave a tiny thumbs-up and practically zoomed out of the room, leaving you and Idia alone.
Idia froze when he noticed you. His shoulders hunched as if he could shrink his already wiry frame. “I-I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Sorry for being pathetic. Again.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you stepped forward and opened your arms. “Come here, you dramatic dork.”
His eyes widened, hesitation etched into every inch of his posture. When you didn’t move or drop your arms, he finally shuffled over, nervously slipping into your embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him securely, and his entire body seemed to deflate as tension drained out of him.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he admitted, voice muffled against your shoulder.
You huffed softly, rubbing his back. “Idia, I wasn’t leaving. Just... needed space to cool off. And honestly, hearing you lose your mind over it made it hard to stay mad.”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” he mumbled, the words tumbling in an embarrassed rush. “Um, does this mean...?”
“It means I still love you,” you interrupted gently.
His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, pink dusting his cheeks and his hair glowing pink at the ends. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice so soft you almost missed it.
“I’m sorry too,” you replied, kissing his cheek and earning a startled squeak.
Together, you made your way back to bed. As you settled under the blankets, his fingers tangled hesitantly with yours. The argument seemed miles away now, replaced by the steady warmth of simply being with him.
“I’ll try to be better,” he murmured into the quiet.
“You’re already enough, Idia,” you replied, squeezing his hand.
And as you drifted off to sleep, you felt his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles, grounding both of you in the quiet comfort of reconciliation.
Malleus stood frozen for a moment, processing your declaration, and you could feel his pout even with your back turned. "You do not need to sleep on the couch," he finally said.
Malleus Draconia
The argument left both of you tense, and you were too mad to deal with Malleus' brooding silence. Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off toward the couch, refusing to even glance at him. "I'm sleeping on the couch," you announced. "Goodnight."
"I'm not changing my mind," you shot back, tossing the blanket onto the couch for emphasis.
There was a brief, sulking pause. Then, he went quiet—suspiciously quiet. You peeked over your shoulder just in time to catch him crossing his arms with a look of smug triumph spreading across his face.
“Malleus—”
Before you could finish the thought, a flash of green lightning struck the couch, reducing it to a pile of ash with alarming precision. You stood there, jaw dropping as the faint smell of charred upholstery wafted in the air.
"Well," Malleus said, ever so matter-of-factly, "it seems the couch is… out of commission. A most unfortunate turn of events."
You turned to him, dumbfounded. "Did you seriously just smite your own couch?"
He looked at you expectantly, his lips pressed into an overly calm smile. "The bed is still available," he offered, gesturing toward the bedroom as though that solved everything.
Your anger reignited—if that was even possible after witnessing such sheer audacity. Without a word, you dropped your blanket onto the floor, flopping down dramatically as if making it your personal mission to out-stubborn a dragon fae.
He stared at you in bewilderment, clearly expecting a different outcome. For a long moment, he didn’t move, as though trying to process your act of defiance. Then, with an audible sigh, he finally caved.
“Alright,” he said softly, crouching to your level. His eyes held a rare vulnerability. “I… overreacted. I apologize for upsetting you.”
You bit back a smirk, pretending to be unimpressed even as you felt your resolve softening. "I wasn’t thrilled about it, yeah."
Malleus tilted his head, something of a pout returning to his expression. “Will you come back to bed, then? The floor hardly befits someone so precious to me.”
“Only if you promise not to zap anything else," you teased, finally relenting as you reached out to take his offered hand.
He helped you up gently, his grip firm but careful, as though he feared breaking you. “I cannot promise to never act rashly in defense of my love,” he murmured, leading you back to the room.
Settling into the bed together, you couldn’t resist poking at him one last time. “You really destroyed your own couch just to keep me near you, huh? You know they make couple’s therapy for this, right?”
He chuckled softly, pulling you close. “I would smite an entire castle if it meant you stayed by my side.”
“Noted,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the warmth in your chest. As you both drifted off, tangled in the sheets, you couldn’t help but think how absurdly lucky you were to be loved by someone so dramatic—and so utterly devoted.
Is there a place I can watch the Vampira Show? I can only find little clips online. I don't see a box set or anything either. Thanks! Great blog by the way. :) Xx
Simple answer is no but you can (kind of, sort of) watch an “episode” or buy DVDs of Vampira’s guest appearances. For anyone that’s interested in getting their hands on Vampira footage or wants to know about the footage then I’m doing to split the information up so you can skip to the part that most interests you.
Why is there so little footage? Where did the footage come from?
When The Vampira Show aired Television generally wasn’t taped or prerecorded. So once it aired it was basically gone. The Vampira Show proved to be popular, so popular that portions of a typical episode was recorded to be used in a KABC promotion video. The Vampira Show only ran for a couple of seasons before being axed and so only a few snippets of the show were ever recorded. After the show’s cancellation, Vampira would be seen for the last time in Plan 9 from outer Space in a nonspeaking role that only physically resembled the character from the show. Unfortunately it seemed as though these clips were the only footage of Vampira. And so The official Vampira store cobbled the clips together and made an episode of The Vampira show: were Vampira would introduce the movie and interject at ad breaks. A little bit disjointed but gave an impression of what the show was like with the only surviving footage.
These were the only a few scant clips of Vampira and there was little hope in finding any other footage. However during research for the upcoming documentary Vampira and me, director R.H. Greene uncovered new footage of Vampira. Before relations had soured between Nurmi and the studio, Vampira would make guest appearances in other television shows. Two of these appearances had been taped and had been unseen for decades. The newly discovered footage were included in the documentary
A couple of years later one of these guest appearances footage was being sold on Ebay as a DVD.
Where can I buy footage?
The Vampira show episode: Contact the official Facebook page. They were selling dvds for about $5 and purchasing from them means you know it’s official merchandise. They had a fantastic online store and hopefully that will return online soon.
The Guest appearance DVD: No longer on ebay. I have no idea where the footage came from or who was selling it.
Vampira and Me: Currently the definitive biographical documentary on Vampira. Almost every clip of her is used including the newly discovered footage and also features her own private recordings and many conducted interviews. If you are a fan of Vampira you have to see this! Vampira and me on Itunes.
What footage can I see online?
Every clip that’s been uploaded online I’ve tried to archive on the blog. So here’s the footage tag.
yousharknotpass
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
prguitarman
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear
