I adore your writting! Could you maybe write some vampire Komaeda X human reader since it's kinda popular now? Totally okay if not!💖
woahhhh Vampire Komaeda??? omg yes please
i’m totally late to this, but i’m glad you requested it tbh! i think vampire Komaeda would be really freaked out after he realizes he needs to hurt others to survive, so that’s where the beginning comes from haha. if not for that, Komaeda would be a very, very chill vampire.
unfinished, however i will post a part 2. :)
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Chomp Chomp!
genre: misc/unfinished(pt.1)
warnings: gn!reader, non-despair!au(???), actually i’m not sure if this would be a non-despair or non-hope’s peak but i dunno you choose i guess,,,, starvation (Komaeda N.), i think he’s literally on the brink of insanity in this fic but when is he not right ahahahh............ on a serious note, there are mentions of blood, puking, cannibalism and violence (because vampires ooo). he does die and come back to life after a dramatic reading, so there’s that, too. i feel like his reaction to things is very mild, but he’s been through a lot so i can’t blame him tbh :( mild swearing. also i apologize for the title it's literally so irrelevant but i'm really bad at titles
word count: 2.1k
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Nagito really didn’t like the sunlight.
whether that was a perk of being a new supernatural being or a general opinion he had before he was turned was beyond him-- he didn’t know how long it had been since he had been turned, but then again, he hadn’t been keeping track of the time.
the mirror in his room--smashed to pieces with large cracks emitting from one center point--was his biggest enemy, and yet his biggest comfort. he couldn’t see just how much more terrible he looked in those solid, reflective objects, but he could not see himself entirely.
with time on the subject, memories of the last time he walked outside of his room were vague. or his house, for that matter. he can’t remember speaking to anyone this past week, or eating anything either. but then again, he would rather die than hurt somebody just to feel the satisfaction of a full stomach.
the butler who knocks on his door every morning, afternoon, and evening to drop off food or to try and clean his room for him always reminded him of the isolating feeling. although not a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, the thought of the old man lingering outside his door had made him dig his nails into the palm of his hand, reddening the skin and feeling a sharp sting there-- anything to distract him from the hunger pains.
the night he turned was quite vivid in his mind. memories had never been so clear before he had been transformed, as he was always forgetful of even small details unless the subject was one he was fond of, so the fact that the night he walked out of his home and ran into a hungry stranger was so freshly clean inside his mind....it just teased him of the fact that he was no longer human.
It was a Wednesday--no, a Thursday? no, it was definitely Wednesday-- the 13th of June. he was out to attend his evening lectures, like he always had done every Wednesday just 30 minutes before 7PM. the walk from his home to the campus grounds were always about 15-20 minutes away, giving Nagito a good while to find his classroom and not cause too much of a ruckus before then.
however, this evening was odd. the air around his pathway to campus had felt unsettling and uncomfortable, to where he felt the need to quicken his leisurely pace because of the anxiety. though, he should have known better than to hope that he could get away, because like always, he could never escape the things he was always trying to rid of.
a pale hand with jagged nails--obviously chewed on from the varying lengths of the nail beds and bite marks on the ends of their nails--had grabbed Nagito’s arm, pulling him into a dark alleyway just conveniently next to him as he sped by.
“oh dear, this is quite unfortunate,” he spoke to himself, the heavy breathing of the other party making the situation awkward to stand in.
“....what would you like...? my wallet..? a house?.. food?...... drugs? although i don’t sell nor buy them, i can give you the money to buy your own....intoxications.” he just started throwing out ideas, voice much more calmer than what you’d normally be if you were dragged into a dark alleyway by a stranger who was obviously not suitable to be outside. but, this was obviously not his first mugging.
he gained no response, just heavy breathing with the occasional twitch of their fingers that were still tightly wrapped around his arms.
from their badly groomed appearance, and their just-as-badly-groomed face, Nagito could tell that the person pinning him to the wall was not ready to mug someone, as he was left defenseless and for the fact that the other made no effort to hide their face.
“i don’t know what it is you want from me, but if you’re just going to stand there and breath into my face, i’ll be taking my lea- gh!”
just as he tried to escape the grip of the person holding him against the wall, he was slammed back into it as if he weighed nothing but a pound. he frowned, he was sure that he had put on some weight, too.
“you....” the person’s voice was breathy and shallow, trailing off and muttering words to theirselves that were inaudible to the second person in the alleyway.
it was hard to hear correctly because of their breathing and the way they spoke in such a rough tone, he couldn’t help but let out a somber "..what?" of confusion to indicate that they needed to speak again.
“you.....stand..still...”
just before he could ask why, Nagito’s shoulders hit the brick wall and all he saw was a flash of pale brown hair before feeling a stinging pain in his lower neck.
he flinched. he squirmed. he struggled.
but as he tried pushing the person on top of him back, it was as if his limbs became heavier with each futile movement under this person’s grasp.
was this person drawing blood? were they drinking it? the warm stream of liquid falling down from his lower neck and staining his clothes with a hot feeling had made him think otherwise.
ah, was this going to be how he died? what a way to go out-- cannibalism of all things. it couldn’t even be grand..
his vision had started to blur and spin, and when the--assumed--cannibal had gotten their fill, they left as quick as they had came. his body had went limp, and it had begun to become unexpectedly cold.
of course it’d be cold when you’re dying.... he mused, it’s not like you can keep yourself warm if you’re dead.
his hand twitched, as if his body were struggling to keep him alive.
i’ll have to apologize to.... Mr. Caine for ruining.. these clothes.
the moment Nagito opened his eyes, he was in that same alley, but the sun was shining brightly down on his corpse, causing a sense of false warmth. he found it bittersweet that despite his passing the world would still peacefully continue to go on without him, as if nothing would change if he were to disappear.
but he supposed it had always been like that.
when he regained his sense of touch, that’s when he noticed that he wasn’t, in fact, a ghost of the person he once was, but still in his body that was--what he thought would be--dead.
his limp head had fallen to his left, where he had been pulled into the alleyway by the mysterious figure that he couldn’t see due to the darkness of the evening.
he would file a report for assault and sexual harassment--even cannibalism, since the person did take a large bite out of his flesh, but all he knew about the person was that they had long, disheveled brown hair. if he went to the cops now, he’d be doing more bad than good for the world...and cause unnecessary stress for the workers there as well.
he sighed, letting out a long groan as he strained his body to get up. how long had it been since Wednesday? how many hours? his clothes felt dry, and his skin even dryer--had he become more pale while passed out on the street? he practically baked out in the sun, it’d be troublesome if he got a sunburn.
it really felt as if he died and came back to life. if coming back to life was his good luck in return for being killed, he’d have rather stayed dead. wouldn’t this mean he’s some kind of zombie now? don’t zombies usually die in the sunlight? or was that another kind of supernatural creature? vampires, was it?
every step he took felt like the life out of him was being sucked away by the sun rays. he didn’t know whether it was because today was simply hotter than usual or because he had just been resurrected from the dead, but the sun was making him deathly ill. and hot. he can't remember experiencing such a bad heat since he was a child, and that was when he had the most terrible fever he had ever gotten that year. or in his life, for that matter.
and after what felt like forever, he had finally made it home, to where the air inside was cool and fresh. it smelled like the salt in the sea, with a hint of vanilla. he didn't know what Caine does to make the house smell so alive, but it made him thankful for the butler's existence, more so now than ever.
"Komaeda, you're home," he heard the elder speak, pale eyes looking over to the source of sound and seeing a familiar face, "you must be tired....i assume you've had another incident, so i drew a bath when i saw you outside the windows. it should be ready upstairs."
Nagito's never had tics or twitches, however, when seeing his old butler again, his hand had almost violently reached for the old man as if it were natural instinct. he let out a heavy breath, it's contents shaky.
"than-thank you, Caine...i'll get going now-"
he had quickly rushed up the stairs and threw his ripped shirt off, quickly staring at his thin figure in the large bathroom mirror.
two distinct, little holes lay on the outer layer of his neck, deeply digging in his muscle like it were soft cake. the wound was, obviously, not bleeding anymore, but it was not scabbed or infected.
Nagito had missed his chance to ask his butler what the date was, and he had no time to be upset about his butler not being able to do anything about his ass of a luck cycle. the two, very clear, bite marks in the side of his neck was very, very concerning.
and it explained why he was drooling all over his butler when he had walked in.
he took a good look as himself.
he was definitely more pale than when he had previously left the house, his figure had become thinner even after finally gaining some extra weight--to the point when you could see a defined ribcage inside his skin. his eyes had become pale, and there were noticeable changes in the shaping of his teeth than before.
he furrowed his brows, a definitive frown taking over his face as he blinked over himself in the mirror again. were his eyes gradually going to become red over time? or was that just a harmful stereotype?
though, what else could be more harmful than what he had become? a vampire of all things. he guessed it was more better than becoming a mindless zombie, or a werewolf who would turn into a humanoid-wolf being during full moons. because of his constitution, it would be easier to hide the fact that he had turned, right?
well, it would have been easier if he could eat and digest normal foods like the average person.
every time that he would try to swallow and chew food, his gag reflex would always kick in, and he'd eventually end up puking it out no matter how hard he tried to swallow the food back down.
hanging over the toilet in defeat, Nagito didn't know much else to do. he refused to go out and harm another person, and he couldn't just tell one of his friends and tell them, "oh, i suddenly turned into a vampire the other day! i was wondering if you'd like to donate your blood to me??"
slowly, but surely, his reflection had started to fade throughout the days. he had forgotten that with his vampire-ness came with the incapability to see oneself in mirrors or objects that reflect light because now he was just.....lightless.
so just getting up out of bed one day and not being able to see himself after sleeping for a limited amount of time (because, must i mention vampires are also nocturnal?), you could definitely say he was more than frustrated.
no food, no reflection, no help, no logic or common sense could go into this, so how was he supposed to survive? let alone pass college with his luck cycle and as a vampire?
he looked at the mirror from across his bed and scoffed at the empty bed he was sitting on. truly, what a fitting end for someone who doesn't exist.
and the shattered mirror had left a, previously enraged, fist bleeding. bleeding out with frustration, with sadness, with grief. and just like how quickly the fist was injured, it had healed up just as fast.
disgusting. he thought, truly someone who isn't human.
and so now, Komaeda Nagito sits on his bed, awaiting a death that will not come because of his immortality. cold and alone under his sheets.
then, the doorbell rang softly in his ears.
