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uniquethingtastemaker · 2 days ago

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Vil x Reader -- Body Swap Pt 2

Part 1, Part 2

Recap and Summary: You and Vil swapped bodies at the beginning of VDC. After a brutal confrontation in the last part, Vil found himself on the other end of his insensitive behavior. He's left in shambles. You run your first rehearsal, Epel goes on an adventure, and you're determined to pick Vil back up.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Author's Note: It's finally here! I had way too much fun writing Epel's part. I feel like I nailed the emotional scene at the end. I was a concerned about the characterization, but Vil's having a hard time. He'll get more sassy and on his feet later on in the series. Shout out to @solxamber for commenting on some little post I made and reigniting my interest. You have done a deep service for everyone lol. Also comments are always appreciated

Tags: @solxamber @marsinrain @roseapov @kj-turned-pink @knorreine @twistedpink @red1sg0n3 @nimko @l00naverse

You don’t have time to worry about Vil once you leave Ramshackle. You’re on a tight schedule. You use all your brain power to get through the day. By lunch, you have to meditate in Vil’s room to recalibrate. You don’t bother checking out his room other than observing that his bed is soft and comfortable. You almost fall asleep from exhaustion. Thankfully, Rook is your personal alarm clock now.

You stop an explosion in potions. You scold the offending party, while Crewel praises you. It feels good. By the end of the day, nobody suspects you. You catch the person you’re looking for to help Epel, before slipping away to meditate in peace. By the time practice rolls around, you’re prepared. You hope Epel likes his surprise.

——————

Epel waits in the courtyard. [Y/N] didn’t say who he was meeting.

“It would be more exciting for it to be a surprise,” they told him.

A face pops up in front of him with a wide grin. Epel yells, jerking back. They’re hanging upside down and have a mess of black hair with a shock of bright pink. The last distinguishing feature is their big, red eyes. Epel does a double take. He knows this person.

“Hello!” Lilia Vanrogue greets, “Your dorm leader informed me of your situation. I agreed to offer my assistance.”

Lilia flips around, landing in front of the boy. The Diasomnia vice leader grabs Epel’s hand and tugs him along.

“I’m going to teach you the advantages of being short!” he declares, looking back with a grin.

—----------

Epel’s mouth falls to the floor as sparks fly through the air. Green, pink, and blue magic clash lighting the cloudy sky. Epel watches Lilia slip underneath Malleus’ defense to land a shocking blow. Is this what [Y/N] wanted him to see?

“Fa–Lilia used to be much stronger than Malleus,” Silver informs, “This match will probably end in a tie.”

As soon as he finishes the sentence, Lilia calls out to Malleus.

“I think that’s enough for today. I have to teach the little one how to fight,” Lilia tells him.

Malleus hums, stopping his attacks. Lilia skips back over to the half-terrified, half-awed Epel.

“I’ll be teaching the basic moves, my dear,” the third-year chirps, “Come along, Child of Man.”

—----------

“How about we test your skills by sparing with Sebek?” Lilia suggests.

The green-haired boy gasps in offense.

“How can a mere human compare to me?! I’m Malleus’ guard. This pathetic prune is not worth my time!” Sebek refuses.

Epel’s face darkens and his eyes sharpen into a glare. He doesn’t like being taken lightly. He’ll put this cucumber in his place.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Sebek. This is good for you. You don’t have any friends,” Lilia tells him, “I’m worried about you.”

Sebek pauses at the statement. He harrumps, crossing his arms.

“I would never want to concern my teacher so I will spar with you, human!” Sebek declares, “You won’t hold a candle to the years of training I’ve had with Lilia!”

The Diasomnia freshman puffs out his chest and struts to the makeshift dueling ground. Lilia dons a mischievous smile. He leans over to Epel.

“Remember what I taught you,” he whispers.

Epel gives a sharp nod. He’ll employ Lilia’s suggestions. He has an ability Sebek doesn’t have and Epel will use it to his advantage.

The Pomefiore student steps into the arena. Lilia counts them down.

“3, 2, 1, Start!”

The duel begins. There’s a short flurry of green and purple. Epel ducks and dodges out of the way. His breath quickens as he uses his agility to his advantage. However, his stamina is less than a guard in training. Sebek knocks him off his feet with a well-timed spell. Epel crumples to the floor as the other laughs with triumph.

“HAHA! I told you, human! You’re no match for me. Do you surrender?” he questions, approaching the lavender-haired boy.

Epel waits until Sebek is close enough. Then, he pounces. He uses everything he learned growing up as a country boy to tackle his opponent to the ground. Then, he does the unthinkable. Epel sinks his teeth into Sebek’s cheek.

Sebek screams.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!! THIS IS BLASPHAMY!” he shrieks.

Epel’s ears ring with the volume. He hears Lilia cackling in the background. He thinks he makes out, “This is hilarious! Can we keep him?”

Epel rides out the wave, holding on tight. Sebek bucks and thrashes like a bull, but this is the Pomefiore student’s territory. Sebek takes the hint and forfeits.

“I surrender! I surrender! Just get off me, you cretin!” he cries.

Epel releases his hold and stands up. He grins at Lilia. The older student clutches onto Malleus, leaning onto him for support. He cries with laughter.

“How dare you, human! That was a dirty tactic!” Sebek protests, stomping up to the shorter boy.

It’s hard to take him seriously when he has huge teeth marks on his face. For a moment Epel feels guilty, but then he sees Lilia and doesn’t feel bad anymore. The older fae doubles over, smacking the giant Malleus’ arm. Epel contains a laugh.

Malleus chuckles, “Come here, Sebek. Let me heal you.”

Sebek’s jaw drops and his eyes well up with tears.

“I don’t deserve Waka-sama’s blessing,” he says, choking up. “But I will gladly and gratefully accept it if you offer it.”

Malleus shakes his head. Before Malleus can snap his fingers, Lilia stops him.

“Let me—Let me get a photo of this,” he wheezes.

He pulls out his phone, snapping a photo of Sebek scowling alone. He urges Epel to get in the photo.

“Don’t you want to have a commemorative photo to take to your friends?” Lilia questions, before waving him over to urge Epel. “You have to! Vil would be disappointed if you didn’t show proof of your encounter. This is legendary.”

As the Pomefiore student steps next to a frowning Sebek, Lilia praises him.

“Epel, you did a fantastic job!”

Epel beams.

Afterward, Malleus heals Sebek with a snap of his fingers. Lilia addresses Epel.

“You’re a delight, Child of Man. You’re welcome to train with the boys anytime. They need a little chaos. It’s good training,” Lilia invites, “I believe you’ve learned the perks of being short and dainty. I look forward to seeing you around. Again, please visit us. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

Epel gives a satisfied grin.

“Thank you. I will,” he answers.

He’s glad [Y/N] sent him on this adventure.

—-------------

You leave Vil’s dorm room and catch a few Pomefiore students on your way out. You adjust their uniforms and give them a few stern tips. They take your advice before skittering away. You’ll work on redefining Vil’s character into something more natural for you later. You head to the studio.

The room is empty when you enter. You set up the equipment and start stretching. Rook appears behind you.

“Trickster! Your performance today was fantastique! I heard all about your escapades,” he praises.

You laugh, “Thank you.”

More people trickle in. Epel is absent, but that’s expected. The only person missing is Vil. You frown.

“Did Vil skip classes today?” you question the other freshman.

“Yes,” Deuce replies.

The others quiet down when the leader of Pomefiore is mentioned. You purse your lips. You’re not surprised. He took a huge blow this morning. There’s no point to drag him here. Vil already feels humiliated. You'll talk to him after rehearsal.

You gain everyone’s attention and begin rehearsal.

—------------

Your eyes widen as you stare at Jamil through the mirror. He adds a stylistic flair to part of the footwork. You pause the music from your watch. You give him an intense look.

“Jamil, do that move again. I wanna see if we can alter the choreography to add that style in,” you explain.

He glances at you, stunned. Jamil regains his composure and repeats the move. You spin around to face him.

“Jamil, what are your favorite songs to freestyle dance to? I want to watch,” you demand.

He freezes while Kalim brightens.

“Jamil, you should do Walkin’ on Water by Stray Kids! (author’s shameless plug. go listen to them. they’re my favorite artists…this is the one song from them where i’m like, yeah, u could probably freestyle dance to this low key lol)” he suggests, “Your breakdancing is fantastic when you dance to that.”

“Breakdancing?” you question, “You breakdance?”

Jamil hesitates, “Yes, but it’s only a hobby.”

“We’ve already established you’re a fantastic dancer,” you tell him, “Breakdancing is popular and crowds love it. They also won’t be expecting it from a Vil performance. Do you rap?”

Jamil does a double take.

“I… dabble sometimes, but not as much as dancing,” he admits.

“That’s fine,” you reply, waving him off.

You run to your phone to type a few rap lines from one of your old hits. You send it in the group chat.

“I want all of you to try your hand at rapping,” you instruct.

You repeating the rhythm several times for them. “You have ten minutes. Then, I want to see it.”

—------------

You sit, reviewing your notes. You address the group.

“Jamil, you’re an all-rounder. You excel in every aspect. I could put you anywhere, but I’m keeping you on vocals because of the team’s composition,” you explain.

You pause, looking up at him. You fold your hands and lean forward.

You continue, “Jamil, you have proven to be competent in and out of the performing arts. You take directions quickly. You’re diligent, responsible, and reliable. I need help with this production. I have too much on my plate. Out of everyone here, I trust you the most to take my instructions and help the others improve their skills. Would you like to be a team leader?”

Jamil’s eyes widen with a calculating spark in his eyes.

“I would be honored,” he agrees.

You smile back at him. “Thank you. We’ll discuss the details of your responsibilities after rehearsal. I look forward to working with you more closely.”

Jamil nods with a small smile. It doesn’t go away for the rest of practice.

“Ace and Deuce will be our rappers. Both of you are strong in that aspect. You work well together, so I plan to have a back-and-forth. It will hype up the audience.” You glance at them with critical eyes. “Jamil will work with you on your tone. It’s a little too biting at the moment.”

You continue, turning to your vice leader.

“You’re interesting as always, Le Chasseur D’Amour,” you chuckle, as the man lights up at the name. “You have a distinct mix between singing and rapping. I like it, so I’ll put you somewhere near Epel and my part. I want the Pomefiore trio to stick together.”

“That’s cute!” Kalim coos.

You pause at the comment before giving a soft smile. “I hope it brings up morale. Plus, I plan to rope Vil into it. He’s the true leader of Pomefiore. He deserves to have support too.”

The group falls silent.

“I... I thought you hated him,” Kalim comments.

You tilt your head.

“No,” you reply, “I feel irritated and annoyed with some of his behaviors, but I don’t hate him. He’s a remarkable individual. However, we all have our vulnerable moments. Vil is no different. He just needs some help learning different life lessons.”

The Scarabia leader nods.

“I’m glad you care about him. I was worried you’d exclude him,” he voices with a relieved smile.

“I won’t. Vil needs help, not judgment. He’s been through a lot today,” you say before dropping the bad news on the last member. “Kalim, you’ll work with Rook on your demeanor. I don’t know where to put you. The concept for the song is more serious than your usual sunshine nature. Until it’s toned down, I don’t know where to put you.”

Kalim’s face falls. Jamil perks up.

—————

You text Epel to skip private lessons. You direct him to Rook who will catch him up on what happened. You talk to Jamil, laying out your expectations and your notes for the members. He takes them with ease. It takes a load off your mind.

When you arrive at Ramshackle, it’s already dark. You sigh, staring at the stars. You have much to do. You need to remix Vil’s song, work on homework, and maintain some of Vil’s strict habits. It’s a lot.

You glance at the familiar rickety manor you call home. You’re proud of it. You wouldn’t trade it for anything because it’s yours. It’s a place where anyone can come and feel welcome. It’s for the lost souls, but you don’t want to go in yet. Once you walk in, you have to face your reality and responsibilities again.

It’s wild to think you woke up in Vil’s body this morning. It feels like weeks have passed. You wonder where Vil is.

A gentle voice comes from behind you. The hunter’s frequent and sudden appearances have become normal.

“Trickster,” Rook calls out.

A smile graces your face. You pull yourself away from the sparkling stars. A crisp wind meets your back as you turn to acknowledge him. Rook holds out two Pomefiore dorm uniforms. It’s just the outer robe. His other hand presents a pair of Vil’s tennis shoes. You understand the silent implication.

“You’re always prepared,” you comment with a tired smile, “I don’t know how to put it on.”

You take the offered robe and drape it over yourself. Rook busies himself with tying the altered obi for you. You use him as a stand, stabilizing yourself as you change your shoes. Rook hands you the other outfit, before leading you into the tree-line.

“How long has he been out here?” you question, following him through the dark woods.

You’re not surprised the vice leader has some form of dark vision. You fish out Vil’s phone, turning on the flashlight. Using a hunting knife, Rook turns to mark a few trees with an X, so you can find your way back.

“Roi de Poison has retreated into the forêt since the others came back,” he explained.

You hum in response. The two of you walk in silence. Rook stops.

“He’s just up ahead,” the hunter discloses.

You nod, giving your thanks and striding forward. It isn’t far before you stumble across a figure. Vil is curled up with his knees to his chest. He’s facing away from you.

“Here to mock me?” Vil snips.

You raise an eyebrow. You sit beside him. He glances at you before resolutely staring forward. You turn off your phone, listening to the music of the night. Crickets chirp. You hear the hoot of an owl. You bask in the quiet nature.

“Why are you here?” Vil asks.

His voice edges on the brink of defensive, but you notice he’s holding back from his usual scathing and critical remarks. You glance at him, intrigued. You were right. He’s already changing. He’ll be fine if you give him the right support and direction.

“I need your help,” you tell him.

Vil tenses and snaps towards you. He reminds you of a hurt and scared animal in this moment in the woods.

The dorm leader doesn’t immediately answer. He watches you. You’re languid and relaxed. Your vital points are open and unguarded. You lean back on your hands. It leaves your torso vulnerable. Your head is tilted to the side, exposing your neck. There’s a faint smile on your face as you stare back.

“You don’t need my help,” Vil degrades, before spitting. “I’m sure you’re just fine on your own.”

You raise a tired eyebrow.

“I made Jamil into a team leader. I can’t do everything by myself, so I’m delegating tasks” you tell him, before poking his chest. “And I need your help too.”

Vil glares at you. However, you catch a tinge of wariness. It makes you internally perk up. If he’s willing to listen, this will be easier.

“What do you even need my help for? It seems like you have everything covered,” he counters.

“I need your help remixing your song,” you tell him.

He opens his mouth with a terrified and hurt expression. You put up a hand before he can speak.

“It’s not bad. It’s a wonderful base, but we can make it better,” you reassure, “I have more experience in this area than you. However, you’re the creator. I need your help. If I’m going to alter the song, I want you like it as well.”

Vil stares at you. He looks away, confused and conflicted.

“I… I don’t understand why you’re doing this. You humiliated me this morning and now you’re asking for my help,” he replies, scrunching his eyebrows together.

You press a finger against his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles. He instinctively understands what you’re doing. Vil doesn’t resist, but his eyes are still upset and conflicted.

“You learned something, right?” you confirm.

Vil scoffs.

“Obviously. I was sent into an internal crisis about my identity, how I’ve been acting and affecting people, and how easily I can be replaced. How can I not learn something?” he retorts, growing emotional.

His voice is filled with pain. Vil is on the verge of crying. He buries his head in his knees, humiliated at his feelings and reaction. You slide closer and drape the extra Pomefiore uniform over him. He stiffens but doesn’t look up. You observe him.

He’s never gotten this treatment before. If he has, it’s been too long. Vil’s suppressed his feelings for so long that he had to be broken with the harshest words to get through to him. It wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was too harsh for your taste. However, you got through to him and that’s what mattered in this moment. You rub his back.

Vil keeps his head on his knees but turns toward you.

“Why are you doing this?” he questions.

“Because I believe in you,” you answer honestly.

He frowns.

“But you told me how useless I was this morning,” Vil replies.

“I pointed out your problematic behavior,” you correct, “I never said that I didn’t believe you can’t change. If anything, that’s something you’re rather good at. You always strive to improve yourself. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into you. You press your lips against his temple.

“Now, put your arms through your sleeve. You’ve been out here since rehearsal ended and that was hours ago,” you insist, “I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Vil slips his arms through the holes. You wrap the cloth tighter around his torso, before placing your hand back around him. The two of you sit in the chilly night for a long time. You feel Vil lean and relax into you. You turn your head to bury your head into his hair.

“Let’s get you home,” you whisper.

He hums in agreement. You pull out your phone, turning on the flashlight. Vil doesn’t protest as you slip an arm under his knees. You keep a firm hold on his back as you pick him up. You follow the marks Rook left for you. Walking carefully to not wake him, you emerge from the forest to meet the hunter.

He gives you two a soft look, before escorting you to Ramshackle. Rook opens the door and ushers you up the stairs. You take Vil into his room. You pause. Your room, you suppose.

You set Vil down on one side of the bed. You busy yourself with taking off his socks and shoes. Rook assists, plugging both of your phones. He sets your alarm, as you rummage through Vil’s bags. You find the dorm leader’s pajamas and pull out two pairs. You turn to find Rook staring at you scandalously.

You smirk with a smug shrug. With a raise of your eyebrows, you gesture to the sleeping Vil. You silently ask him if that’s not attractive. Your hand gestures down the body you occupy. Rook contains a laugh, surrendering. You smile, before shooing him.

He wiggles his eyebrow and you roll your eyes. Rook closes the door behind him. Turning off the main light, the bathroom glows from the other wall. You slip inside, completing Vil’s night routine.

You walk out, nudging your body awake.

“Vil,” you call out, “You need to wash your face.”

The man groans but pulls himself up.

“Everything’s in there and ready,” you tell him.

He gives a noncommittal, sleepy nod and shuffles to the bathroom. You lean against the bed frame, scrolling through your phone. You wait for him. Vil comes out in his now oversized pajamas. He stares at the bed for a minute, before turning off the light and walking forward. You feel the Pomefiore student slip into bed. He turns away from you. You place your phone down, sliding into your position as well.

You reach out and drape an arm over him, watching for any reaction. He scoots closer to you. You pull him closer and drift off to sleep.

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