Komahina Oneshots/Headcanons

death is a funny thing.

3rd part, as requested
haven't written a fourth but maybe i will
major TW for murder so uh hahah
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The scent of violence and blood wafted into Komaeda's nose, catching him slightly off-guard. The murderous curiosity got the better of him, and he ended up sneaking a peer at the scene. Something he will forever have regretted.

There were two brutes trying to coerce money out of Hinata with violence. Bloody, agonizing violence that lit a flame of fury in his heart. Thankfully, he was able to snuff the fire enough to leave the scene before things got seriously messy. I will wait until they walk away. I will wait until they are alone. I will wait until they are vulnerable. I will wait until they have no one left to help them. Their demise will be spectacular, I promise. That vault full of murderous intent finally burst open, Komaeda's resolve snapping in half like shattering glass. Glass that he would use to kill the two people who dare cross him and the one he loved.

He could feel laughter flowing out of his mouth, but it was warped with delirium and fury. His ears were ringing, blocking out whatever moral reasoning he had left in him. He slid down the wall, frantically groping for the knife in his pocket. This is why I always carry a weapon on me. A manic smile slithered across his face, the need for blood and further violence arched over him like a shadow. (i'm sorry this is so cringy 😭)

He took a small minute to gather up himself, as to not wither away from fury in that very spot. He put away the knife, taking in a breath of the stinging cold air. He noticed his two targets walking away from the alleyway... right towards the one he was in.

Two people would be a challenge... but if he hindered one immobile, then it would be so much easier. He pulled out the knife again, clutching it close to his chest. He waited in anticipation as the footsteps grew closer.

As soon as the tiniest bit of a figure appeared, he grabbed them roughly and stabbed them in the side. He twisted the knife as he shoved them to the ground, unreasonably satisfied by the wet squelch it made as it left the strangers body. He retracted to the corner of the alleyway, as to lure the other one into the darker area.

Red hot anger radiated off of the uninjured one as their partner groaned and struggled on the ground, blood gushing on their wound. They stomped towards Komaeda, a balled up fist preparing to slam into his face. But before they had a chance to swing, Komaeda ducked out of the way and also stabbed the uncovered area at their side. He dropped the bloody knife, looking. at the other body. He sauntered towards them, looking over them with a venomous glare.

"The blood... isn't it sweet?" He laughed, mostly to himself. "Death is a funny thing. Don't you agree?" He chuckled again when the criminal only responded with a gurgle. Their body soon stilled, and Komaeda dragged them over to their still-alive partner.

"How the fuck...? Why...?" The brute asked as his hood fell from his face.

"You harmed something very dear to me. I'm sure you've also done a lot of other evil in your life." He smiled, but it was a delirious one. "People like you deserved to rot in hell." He growled, kicking the knife towards the unfamiliar man as the life faded from his helpless eyes.

Evidence... I've got to get rid of the evidence. He shoved the knife into the hands of one of the bodies, making sure it was thoroughly covered in blood to prevent any fingerprints coming from it. He looked down at his shirt, seeing stains of blood. He grabbed his (thankfully) blood-free jacket off of the ground and zipped it up, hopefully covering up whatever evidence there was on him. He pulled out his phone, inhaling deeply. He had to make it really believable.

The phone ran through the ringing cycle a few times before a androgynous voice picked up. "911, what's your emergency?" Komaeda let out a few terror stricken shaky breaths.

"I just... found two d-dead bodies in an alleyway. There's so... much... blood." He breathed in again. "Oh my god." The person on the other end seemed to become a bit more serious. Komaeda could feel a smirk appearing on his face. Playing it off nicely. Score.

"Okay. Can you tell me where you are?"
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Komaeda tapped his foot against the ground repeatedly, making sure his body language marked that he was in shock. The police officer had a lot of questions, but Komaeda only answered them with short answers. The officer seemed a bit less observant, which made Komaeda very glad since she didn't seem to notice the few stains of scarlet that were on his jacket.

He made sure they knew that the dead people seemed like criminals, and was soon let go. Once he was out of sight, he began walking at a more jubilant pace, and even whistling a small tune as the moon shone on the gloomy streets.

The more his house was in sight, the more the remorse began to set in. He obviously had been blinded by pure rage and hatred, but that bitterness just faded into guilt.

Well, obviously, murdering someone in cold blood is a very regrettable decision, but he probably saved many future victims of their's. Still, through all of the reassurance he gave himself, he still felt as if he had just committed a cardinal sin (which he did).
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The second he walked into the door was when the tears started. Wet, hot tears pouring down his face like rainfall. He felt pathetic, overwhelmed by bitterness and remorse. He never thought that it was possible to feel this level of pure negative emotion at once. It was like a hot ball of lead was melting through him to the core.

He could feel skin peeling and flaking off of him, feeling like his head was flipping itself inside out. A white hot blaze of dreary guilt burned through him like a wildfire. He clutched his head, wanting to rip out every single strand of hair that he had.

The walls felt like they were closing in. Creeping closer, inch by inch, ready to smush his blood and organs all over each blank slate. He began to get frantic, panic-stricken eyes darting all over the room looking for an exit. He wanted to get out of there. He needed to get out of there.

All of his panic and struggle was useless. He searched every single inch of the shrinking room, only to find... nothing. He was fine. The walls weren't closing in. His skin wasn't peeling off. His body wasn't burned. His head wasn't inside out.

He felt himself coming back to Earth, inside of his house. His perfectly fine, perfectly intact house. What was that? His hand retracted from the doorknob as he began to slowly walk into his living room.

Every painting was the same. Every decoration was where it was before. Every shelf was perfectly straight. Komaeda looked down at his arms, the scars. Flashes of harrowing memories came back; the blood pouring from each open wound. Though, in the 'memories,' it was warped. The blood pouring from his arms flooded the room, being the agonizing cause to his demise.

Drowning in blood. That never happened. It couldn't have. What is up with my head today? He sighed ruefully, looking to his kitchen. "Maybe I just need sleep. Rest might just help." He lowered his arms, taking in a large breath of familiar air.

There's definitely something terribly wrong with me.
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omg so emo and edgy!!!!! 😱
please don't think i'm crazy for this keanjdnfjfjf this is just meant to be a fun little dandy FICTIONAL world i promise 😋