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Enjoy. Hell.

“I found your hat” “………….thanks”
Yesterday was my birthday and I decided I’d gift myself and draw something very very self-indulgent :D


there’s no need to find excuses to kiss your bro, but these two are dorks so



Angels 😔💕 Also, we are doing the undress a character challenge with Joseph and a Caesar on Twitter(@VanatkaE) and IG(@est_cos) so if you are interested you know where to find those 👀




Did it work?
(old comic, finished the last two panels and colored in)
What blows my mind is the fact that the air we are breathing could have been someone’s fart, cough, or burp and it really fucks me up!!!!!!!!!

Someday I wanna do a portrait mod hehe
WAIT DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THAT ONE MINECRAFT MOD???? THE WITHER STORM?????? LIKE THE BIG BLACK TENTACLE MONSTER W 3 HEADS OH MY GODDDDDD
"Your time is UP!"
FINALLY AFTER FOREVER SHES DONE, while I'm not exactly satisfied with how this looks I am happy with how I've designed her!
I live laugh love natalie, I'm not sorry I made her a ginger😔 I was tired of seeing her brunette.
Depending on the mood maybe I'll draw her gfs ref or x virus ref.


"YOU'LL BE BACK" Gravity Falls Animatic!
Just a random thought that I turned into a prompt.
I've seen a few posts where Danny can shapeshift but usually he's shapeshifting into animals like crows and cats. For this prompt, hear me out... He shapeshifts into a person. Shocking concept I know! But he doesn't shapeshift into any person he shapeshifts into one of the Batfam, specifically he shapeshifts into Dick. Specifically Dick because he's the one I think is least likely to immediately try to murder Danny for being a clone or write it off as a hallucination from sleep deprivation.(*cough*Tim *cough*)
He doesn't shapeshift into Dick because he knows who he is. Danny has no clue who Gotham's vigilantes or the Wayne's are, Amity park was very isolated even before the portal opened. Danny shapeshifted because he was hungry and walking into a restaurant with his own appearance made people act hostile or pitying towards him. He's been called all types of names from Mutant to Troq and has since learned it was easier to shapeshift to get food then to deal with that.
Danny only shapeshifted into Dick because he was one of the first people he saw while walking around Gotham. In Danny's mind he just shapeshifted into a random person he saw on the street the day before. He's just in it to get fast food, he doesn't think anything of it. Though, he is a little taken aback when the cashier casually calls him a dick, but maybe this dude is a regular that's on friendly terms with the staff. Danny got his greasy food and all is well, that is untill he lock eyes with the real Dick who looks confused but not surprised.
The two of them lock eyes and it's like the spiderman meme for a few second until Dick, in a brilliant moment of intelligence decides to give chase... In public.
Danny's not willing to give up his fast food so easily. He is 100% willing to go through a cartoonishly long chase scene for his over salted fries. So it's just Dick chasing Danny with both of them doing circus level acrobatics.
It would just be Dick chasing Danny at full speed like "This is identity theft!"
And Danny snapping back with "Fuck you! Let me enjoy my lunch in peace Dick!"
He doesn't know Dicks name he's just calling him a dick, but this solidifies it in Dicks mind that he is a clone. So when Dick finally runs Danny into a dead end he demands to know who created him. Danny's confused as hell cause the suspiciously acrobatic civilian is calling him clone and demanding to know who made him. Not wanting to deal with being called a clone he responds to Dick's question.
"Uh... my parents created me dude. I'm just a shapeshifter I don't know what to tell you," after saying that he shapeshifts back a shovels a handful of fries into his mouth.
Dick is utterly baffled when his not clone turns into a small fanged child that looks to be about Damian's age when they were first introduced. He's just staring awkwardly as this kid wolfs down food like he hasn't seen a decent meal in months. The entire time Danny's stuffing his face Dick's have a mental debate on whether or not he should take Danny home to Bruce or not. If he doesn't, the severely malnourished child doesn't get a proper meal but if he does bring the kid back he has to admit that he chased a suspected clone in public and ignored the fact the gear he had on him detected the shapeshifters heartbeat in his stomach before he shapeshifted back into his true form. (My personal headcannon that Danny cannot change where his heartbeat would beno matter how big or small he is)
Dick ends up bribing Danny with food to come back with him.
(Sorry if this was bad I wrote this at three am. Also smart bby Danny is my heart and soul!)
DRDT Archetype Analysis + Predictions
Recently, I was reminded of this post I made a while ago about the repeating archetypes of canon Danganronpa casts (and how I invited people to apply it to their own fangans/fangans they liked). And I thought, hey! I can do that myself with a fangan I have very vocally enjoyed: Danganronpa: Despair Time!
To be clear, I am very much NOT accusing DRDTdev of being unoriginal or ripping anything off. The cast is one of the things I like most about DRDT, and that’s because they’re all very inventive, exciting, and well-developed characters who make surprising yet never out of character choices.
However, I also think that they fit the archetypes I developed quite well. This is for two reasons: one, the dev has almost certainly played the canon games, and therefore may have been inspired by them. The plot (or at least the motives) thus far seem to be strongly inspired by Trigger Happy Havoc, so it would make sense if some of the characters could have been too. And, secondly, I posited in the original post that this assortment of archetypes made for a good and well-balanced cast in general. It’s possible that DRDTdev had no intentions of paralleling anything, and simply came up with the cast that they did because these types of people work well together.
I’m probably disclaiming too hard again.
Anyways, this post is part character analysis and part story predictions. I’ll explain how and why I think each character lines up with the archetype I chose for them, and in some cases, how I think they might follow or defy the narrative staples set by their predecessors. As such, there are major spoilers for all three mainline Danganronpa games, as well as DRDT through Chapter 2 Part 1. Let’s get started!

“The Protagonist can be basically whoever you want. The main attributes they probably need are a generally friendly and sociable disposition (to facilitate FTEs), and enough intellect to survive a Class Trial without too much help. However, they likely harbor some elements of self-doubt and possess an ultimately hopeful attitude.”
(I wish I’d had a less obvious assignment to hook people in, but that's just how the cookie crumbles.)
Well, Teruko kind of fills the role of protagonist by default, because… she’s the protagonist. However, as many have noted, she’s a bit atypical in the role. But, that’s okay! Because the Protagonist is probably the most flexible role of all. Really, the only boundaries on it are the ones set by the mechanics and flow of the game.
Teruko is far less sociable than Makoto, Hajime, or Kaede (or even Shuichi), but the format of DRDT gets around that by not actually having any FTEs in the main story. And, even in the Bonus Episodes, Teruko doesn’t participate. In the main story (especially after Chapter 1), Teruko pretty much only stumbles into conversations, or has someone else initiate them. FTEs are the one point of the game where you have to explain why the protagonist is going out and seeking conversations on their own, so it works very well that DRDT was published in a format where that doesn’t have to happen. The intellect is obvious– Teruko is very possibly the smartest person in the Class Trial, so there’s never any question of whether she would be smart enough to solve any of the mechanics.
The other two aspects aren’t as important to being a protagonist; they’re just common threads that I noticed happened to be shared by Makoto, Hajime, and Kaede. Teruko doesn’t have self-doubt as much as self-hatred, but I think that Makoto’s self-doubt originated from him being a player insert. This was the first time that anyone had ever played a Danganronpa game, so of course they might be a little nervous going into it! However, those who watch DRDT are almost certainly familiar with at least one Danganronpa game before they watch, and beyond that, you don’t even play as Teruko. Thus, Teruko doesn’t need to be someone the “player” needed to relate to at all. It’s one of the many reasons why I think DRDT uses its existence as a video series brilliantly.
The “ultimately hopeful attitude”... has yet to be seen. This is important if Teruko needs to give a big hope speech at the Chapter 6 Trial, but there’s no guarantee that’ll happen. It’s possible that she could get to the Chapter 6 Trial and still refuse to believe in others, likely if she winds up being the mastermind. Or, she could die before she makes it there! I still believe that Teruko could have the hope necessary to fit the standard protagonist mold, but DRDT is full of subversions. I look forward to seeing what happens with her character!

“The Calculating Support aids the protagonist, specifically in the logic department. They’ll bring important deductions in each Class Trial they attend, and tend to have an important role in the story’s plot. Giving them an arc where they open up more and gain friends goes a long way to endear them to the audience.”
Surprised to see Min in the support slot? Probably not. After all, it was pretty clear to me that the Chapter 1 Investigation was meant to tell us that, after Xander died, Min was going to be the real support character of the game.
… Didn’t work out so well for her, but, hey, A for effort.
Being the Ultimate Student, Min is obviously quite smart. She took a pretty active role in the Chapter 1 Trial, despite being the blackened. Being the blackened, however, limited her ability to attend more than one Trial, or have an important role in the story’s plot. That’s not to say she’s irrelevant, though– by being a false support, Min cemented her role in the story as the person to fully extinguish Teruko’s potential trust. Maybe if it was just Xander, Teruko could have believed he was just a bad apple and gone on to trust most of the others. However, after Min ALSO pretended to be her friend and was willing to sacrifice not just Teruko, but everyone else to stay alive, Teruko learned that no one was to be trusted.
I’m going to talk about subversions a lot in this post, both in analyzing things that have happened and things that I speculate might happen, because I think it’s something DRDTdev does quite well. A lot of characters, in my mind, are set up to appear like one archetype in the moment, but then do something different with the role in a creative way. Min is a subversion of the Calculating Support to make you feel the same surprise and betrayal that Teruko did. You think she’s going to be your new best friend, your Kyoko, your Chiaki, your Shuichi, and then they rip her away from you. And it sucks!
It sucks extra because Min also has a quickly implemented rendition of the “opening up to people” plot. She seems really closed off in her introduction, hiding her face behind a book, but helps everyone to bake regardless. She sees that Teruko is trying her best despite her bad luck, and develops a tentative friendship with her and the other two girls in the baking crew. Thus, when she sees her new friend being attacked, she acts on her character development and defends Teruko. Her reveal of this fact in the Class Trial endears us to her greatly before she dies, left wondering how much more sociable and helpful she could have become if she weren’t trapped in this damn killing game.
…Sorry for the downer! That’s just what happens when your new bestie is the Chapter 1 killer.

“The Chaotic Bastard causes trouble for the protagonist in unexpected and complicated ways, and drives a lot of the story’s conflicts. They’re very smart, so as to pose a serious threat to the survival of the group. Their outlandish ways give them a great chance of being the most popular and memorable character in the game.”
Thank god I’m writing this after Chapter 2 Episode 11! It makes putting David in this role much easier.
After all, it was in Chapter 2 Episode 11 that David fully revealed the main way in which he had driven the conflicts thus far– namely, his decision to encourage everyone to share their secrets in the hopes that another murder would occur. In that episode, he also has his second Rebuttal Showdown with Teruko, hitting two for two on that particular mechanic. Given that Teruko appears to be losing the second Showdown until Charles cuts in, I think that more than enough proves that David is smart, and specifically, smart enough to be a legitimate rival to Teruko.
The popularity is… well, already apparent. Although I wasn’t there at the time 2-11 dropped, all the evidence left behind seems to indicate that David quickly skyrocketed to being one of, if not the most popular character after his diabolical debut. You can really feel this role in the fandom’s reaction, I believe. Those who are fans of Junko, Nagito, or Kokichi are excitedly clapping their hands and grabbing the popcorn, whereas those who hated that trio are groaning at the thought of having to deal with one of those bastards again.
If David is meant to be a subversion of the Chaotic Bastard and not just an example of one, I honestly think the most likely way for him to do it is to survive. Yes, he could also do it by dying surprisingly early, but then the game would lack its Chaotic Bastard. Given Teruko’s arc about trusting people, missing out on her greatest antagonist could be a missed opportunity (but also, someone else could rise up to take on the role). Junko, Nagito, and Kokichi didn’t really go through positive growth arcs. Thus, it would be interesting to see what happened if a Chaotic Bastard actually made it to the end and had to change as a person.
Or, he could just actually be the Chapter 5 killer or something! Place your bets now.

“The Jerk might start off insulting the Protagonist, making themself an easy early enemy with their confrontational ways. But by the end of the story, they’ll undergo a character arc where they land beside the Protagonist as a trusted ally. The Jerk has high odds of surviving, due to their innate setup and payoff of personality.”
I’m surely not the first person to draw comparisons between Charles and Byakuya, and I likely won’t be the last. From his role in the Chapter 1 area investigation, Charles has been playing The Jerk pretty textbook. He insulted Teruko, Levi, and Arturo (and Xander and Whit in his introduction, too), setting himself up as an adversary.
And yet, we’ve already seen his character arc start to play out! Whereas Byakuya was making himself more antagonistic by messing with the crime scene, Fuyuhiko was orchestrating Mahiru’s death, and Maki was keeping her true talent a secret, Charles has made a true friend in Whit. He’s already proven to be one of Teruko’s strongest allies, respecting the kind of life she currently wants to lead while trying to convince her of the more trusting life she should lead. Between his newfound fear of blood and the realization that he forgot a good chunk of his childhood, he realized he wasn’t as infallible as he thought, and became a more understanding person as a result.
However… it’s for these exact reasons that I’m worried for him. While Byakuya, Fuyuhiko, and Maki were just beginning their arcs as of Chapter 2, given how much Charles has changed, you could argue that he’s just ended his. As is described above, the Jerk tends to survive “due to their innate setup and payoff of personality.” What happens if we’re in Chapter 2 and the Jerk has already paid off that setup?
It’s why I’m worried that Charles will be a subversion of the Jerk by dying. The Jerk typically has a long-running character arc that ends in survival; Charles has a short-running character arc that ends with a stint as a victim. It’s by no means set in stone (you don’t have to believe in any of this subversion speculation, it’s just my personal musings), but it’s a definite possibility. I get the argument for Charles surviving, as any good Jerk would, but… doesn’t it feel a little too good to be true?

“Whether they leave the game early or not, the Early Mystery sets up a question in the audience’s mind that will have renewed importance later in the story, possibly surrounding the main plot. Because secrets are within their nature, a closed-off and mysterious disposition will make it easier to not give too much away.”
Another role kinda assigned by default. Xander is the first death with a lot of secrets, hence, he’s the Early Mystery. RIP to his eligibility for the Sporty Dumbass.
There are still several questions surrounding Xander after his death. Like, was he guy in the intro? I think so, but, if that’s the case, what was the killing game he was trying to stop? Why did he need to kill Teruko, and, who was the one that wrote that note telling him to do so? What happened to his eye? The motive secrets were released after he died– which one was his?
Well, okay, Xander’s Bonus Episode Visiting Graves made it fairly clear that his secret is probably the “dead parents and siblings” one. But, about that Bonus Episode– what exactly happened in North C and Chariton? How was the Spurling Foundation involved, and what relevance does it have to the killing game? What document was he looking for at “Unnamed Student’s” request? These are just a few questions I’d like to ask of Xander that I can’t without a ouija board.
As a final note, I will add that Xander really didn’t have the closed-off and mysterious disposition that I wrote about above. However, I never said that was a necessity. Honestly, I think it’s much more fun that DRDTdev went down the path of making him so sociable and friendly that he didn’t give too much away. Xander was too busy arm wrestling Ace and fanboying over David; he didn’t have time to loredump!

“The Stalker is obsessed with another member of the cast, often in a romantic manner that the other person doesn’t reciprocate. They’re very over-the-top comedic relief, with silly sprites. In a lighter setting, you could boil this role down to ‘someone whose characterization is unignorably tied to another character.’”
Well, DRDT is definitely not a lighter setting. However, you could still make a pretty good argument that Arturo’s character as it is now would be far less potent without J’s presence.
Similar to David, Arturo’s stalker-hood only comes into play in Chapter 2, once J is revealed as a celebrity. I don’t think he’s necessarily romantically interested in J (moreso in her mom, honestly), but it’s definitely true that J does not condone his actions. And yet, Arturo follows her around, so intensely single-minded that it’s darkly comedic. Both Arturo’s mega simp sprites and intense reactions of disgust qualify for over-the-top silly sprites– I know I’ve gotten some good laughs out of them, especially when paired with the “beneath me!” or “beautiful people~!” voice lines.
It’ll be interesting to see how Arturo reacts to J in Chapter 3’s daily life (assuming both of them make it there) after she betrayed him by revealing his secret. Sonia and Himiko never really had a big declaration of war on Kazuichi or Tenko, and Toko was enough of a simp that she bounced back from Byakuya underhandedly revealing her identity as Genocide Jack. Will Arturo be the same?
Alternately, if J is the Chapter 2 blackened (as many people predict), it would be interesting to explore what the Stalker archetype would do if the object of their affections was suddenly gone. Toko and Byakuya and Kazuichi and Sonia both survived together, and although Himiko survived, Tenko died. Given that Arturo did have more of a character established before he started bothering J, maybe he would just return to that state? I’m not sure what purpose there would have been for building that relationship in that case, then, but I’m sure it would be something.

“No way around this one: the Horny One is horny. When there’s a lull in conversation, they’ll spout some sexual humor that’ll leave the audience cackling or cringing. They direct their comments at everyone, not one person in particular. If this type of humor’s not your favorite, they can be substituted with different comedic relief.”
Whit… Whit my boy… there is so much more to your character than being the Horny One… you’re not even that horny… I’m sorry…
Still though, I think this is the right place for him. Whit is quite flirtatious, even if it’s not as outrageously sexual as something like what Teruteru or Miu would say. He also has spread his commentary around– not by much, but he’s at least said flirtatious things to both Teruko and Charles, and suggested that Teruko and Xander should be a couple. As far as I remember, he’s one of only two characters to bring up sex by name (source: his and Charles’ FTE), the other being MonoTV (I am NOT scrubbing through the entire series to confirm this is true).
Additionally, there’s the angle that I tacked on to the end: if being horny isn’t the author’s style, they can sub in a different comedic relief. This DEFINITELY works. Whit constantly cracks jokes with the canonical intention to make people smile. Even beyond his role in the story, I think he sees himself as the group’s comic relief. And, sometimes, those jokes happen to be a bit flirtatious in nature. That just helps him fill the role even better!
In terms of subversions and predictions, I think it would have to be giving him a more serious role in the story. None of Hifumi, Teruteru, or Miu really have any sort of long-lasting dramatic weight to their character. Hifumi’s only major relationship is to Celeste, which is played for laughs to show how pathetic he is. Teruteru is gone too soon to have a major impact on a cast that initially dislikes him, even if his tragic relationship with his mother makes a good run for its money. Miu survives the longest, and thus is probably the most important of the trio. But, even still, her relationships with Kokichi and Kiibo don’t lead to her character making any sort of major changes.
It could definitely be a subversion of the silly Horny One trope to give it the seriously important role of being the mastermind. Or, Whit could have his heart jerked around by our resident Jerk’s death, and have to figure out who he is when he’s incapable of laughing it off. Either option seems to project a long run onto his character… so, this analysis is definitely true! There’s absolutely no way that Whit could die early, and no best boy privileges were invoked in the typing of that sentence!

“Although the Sacrificial Strong One’s biceps are large, their heart is the strongest muscle of all. They’re a reliably kind member of the cast whose mental and physical fortitude are instantly likable. To tug at the audience’s heartstrings, they’re often involved in a sacrifice of some sort… willingly or not. But probably in Ch4.”
Look, man: even if Levi doesn’t actually get buff cursed in Chapter 4, it’s pretty clear that that’s the sort of thought we were all supposed to have when we first looked at him. He’s contemplative like Sakura, helpful like Nekomaru, and strives to be a good person like Gonta. He’s the only noticeably muscular member of the cast, even though Xander is very clearly stronger than him.
Not to mention, he already was involved in a sacrifice (sort of) in the Prologue. He was the one to attack MonoTV in hopes of ending the killing game. Sure, he probably wasn’t expecting to get attacked and nearly killed in return, but he also never outwardly regrets doing it, either. Yup! Levi is just a super strong sweetheart who might die, but if he does, it’ll probably be in a totally wholesome way.
…
…
… Subversion time!
Based on literally my own poll, I know that the majority of the fandom thinks that Levi will be the blackened of this very chapter. And, while it’s still possible that Arei’s death could have been a sacrifice of some sort, it seems unlikely given the probably brutal way she was killed (most sacrifices wouldn’t involve snapping your volunteer’s neck, I think). Especially if part of Levi’s motive was the secret that’s likely his, the “murderer without remorse” one. If Levi killed without remorse once, it’s possible he could do it again. And while it’s not like Sakura or Nekomaru seemed to regret what they did much, they themselves were the victims. That makes it a lot more likely that all parties would consent to the situation.
If you don’t think Levi will die as the blackened, there are still other options as well, obviously. Such as Levi Accomplice Theory, my personal favorite! That would be an extra level of subversion to the sacrifice. If he were helping a different blackened as an accomplice, instead of sacrificing himself, he would potentially be willing to sacrifice the others. Given that accomplice!Levi would probably make it through this Trial, he would be faced with the hatred of everyone who knew that he was willing to gamble their lives.
Levi could also not be involved in Arei’s death at all. That leaves the door open for him to still be a real, genuine Chapter 4 sacrifice. Or, let’s say that Ace either dies as the Chapter 2 killer or continues to hate and distrust Levi, pushing Levi to the brink (“why do I even bother?”). He could still become a blackened for selfish reasons abd subvert the stereotype, just on a later time frame.
Or, Levi could just survive! That’s something that the Sacrificial Strong One hasn’t done yet. It’s weirdly easy to forget that’s a possibility…

“The Caretaker takes a role of guidance and leadership for the cast in a stern, parental sort of way. Although they might have some old-fashioned ideals, they’re friendly and reliable. They tend to die early as an easy way to make things hard for the other characters, left mourning someone who didn’t deserve what they got.”
Well, that was easy. Hu definitely plays the role of the mom friend, admitting herself that she needs people to rely on her or else she’ll feel useless. She guides the group in several ways, such as when she advises Teruko to pair up with Charles in the Chapter 1 Area Investigation or gives Nico her support during their outing.
While I don’t think she believes in old-fashioned ideals the same way that someone like Mahiru does, her character is undeniably connected with the past and tradition. She plays an ancient instrument, and chose to go by the name “Hu Jing” to honor her parents and the name they gave her.
Where Hu’s character will go with regards to this archetype (and in general) is an interesting debate. Hu was the second most anticipated blackened for this chapter as per the poll, so if she did kill Arei, it could contrast the “friendly leadership” idea. However, it’s not like Kirumi wasn’t the Chapter 2 blackened– and for somewhat selfish reasons, too. Some could argue that it just means that it’s even more likely that it’s possible to happen, and I’m not totally opposed to the idea. But I want to consider options where Hu doesn’t die in Chapter 2 as well (considering she’s not even my personal blackened pick).
Assuming she (and everyone else I mention; you can remove the others if you think they die) survives into the next chapter, Hu will be in a very interesting place. Given that David has defected, she’s probably the last shot at a leader that the group’s got at the moment, making her a perfect Caretaker. Or, maybe not so perfect: Ace already hates her, Nico may grow offended at her babying, and David will probably be trying to undermine her efforts.
Hu could subvert the expectations of a Caretaker by being more opposed than anyone else was. Although Taka fell from his position as leader, nobody resented him for the intense grief he felt. Some of the boys might have disliked Mahiru because of her gender-based insults, but she was never a publicly opposed figure. Everyone relied on and loved Kirumi in Daily Life, and even after she tried to get them all killed so she could escape, people thought about condoning the sacrifice and rooted for her to escape.
There’s also the matter of Hu's hidden quote, “I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.” That suggests that she might do something controversial in the future that she’ll want to apologize for. If she is a more controversial figure, then the “mourning [Hu, who] didn’t deserve what [she] got” might not happen. She could become more of a villain.
Like Levi, there’s also the option where she survives! As stated, the Caretaker is a role that typically dies, and dies early. It would be interesting to see how a level-headed leader would react to the typical endgame craziness, especially in a Trial 6. Would Hu keep her cool and be a figure that everyone can rely on, or would she not be able to handle all the chaos and pop off? A late game finish, especially as a Chapter 4 or 5 blackened, would also be really interesting to explore– the rise and fall of someone who started off only wanting to help.
If it wasn’t already obvious, I really hope Hu survives this trial, because there are a lot of interesting places her character could go from here. In my opinion, she’s probably the character we’ve gotten the least individual focus on in the content so far. I’m speculating that that may mean she’ll be a central figure in Chapter 3, but we’ll see how the end of the Trial plays out.

“The Space Case is a weird but fun character that provides some bizarre comedic levity in dark moments. While they’re generally amiable people, there’s something undeniably weird about them that makes the protagonist hesitant to get too close at first. Their talent is likely artistic or metaphysical in nature.”
Aw yeah, check out that artist going on the art one! #ArtMoment.
Even so, it’s no stretch of the imagination to call Rose a Space Case. Although she’s generally pretty logical, not making the same kinds of bizarre claims that Hiro, Ibuki, or Angie would, her forgetfulness makes her come off as a bit of an airhead. Her thoughts can appear odd, like saying that she was staring at the paint, before she explains herself.
That “forgetfulness” is also the thing that makes Teruko hesitant to get close to her. Well, okay, maybe not Teruko– she doesn’t need any help not getting close to people– but, for all of the others! Rose has notably few friends, and the person who was arguably closest to her, Nico, (probably) betrayed her by stealing the turpentine from under her nose to kill Ace. Clearly, something about Rose is keeping people away from her, and I think it’s how little she appears to be taking the game seriously.
With the focus on her tragic backstory in Chapter 2, it’s also weirdly easy to forget how funny Rose is. She’s the center of a lot of great jokes! Her falling asleep at the table, suddenly throwing black paint all over her masterpiece, and pulling out the smart guy glasses when running her chromatography exercise are all great examples of how she’s still an effective comic relief character, haunting nightmares be damned.
Speaking of, Rose’s melancholy, her “ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum” lifestyle, is the main way that she subverts the Space Case archetype. Space Cases aren’t supposed to have deep, tragic regrets, they’re supposed to make silly predictions and refer to themselves in the third person…! Angie was definitely more of a force to be reckoned with than Hiro or Ibuki, but even then, the Student Council made her more of a frightening enemy than a pitiable figure. It’s an interesting contrast to give a character who’s so disconnected from reality a backstory that firmly, inescapably ties to it.
Furthermore, the Space Case has never been a killer. Does this mean that Rose could be pushed to kill by the debt that weighs her family down or the desire to preserve her mind before it’s further plagued with despairful imagery? Eh, maybe. I still think that Rose might survive, but that’s a straight up vibe check with no actual textual evidence to point to. Just… watch out for Chapter 3, queen. Ibuki and Angie are rooting for you…!

“Although they have their clear quirks, the Nice One is a generally friendly and normal character that the protagonist can befriend without much issue. They can be important as a relatable everyman that reacts to bizarre events or twists realistically. The main criticism they’ll probably face is being too boring, basic, or underdeveloped.”
Similar to how the protagonist in the killing game doesn’t typically take much issue with the Nice One, I don’t think many people would take much issue with me calling Eden a nice person. A Good Person, even. Haha. Ha.
Like Hina with her donuts, Sonia with her serial killers, or Kiibo with learning to be human, Eden is a little quirky. Her addition of extra sprinkles and the idea to put silly faces on the clock faces endear her to us by reminding us of the cheerful people in our day-to-day lives. Most people could also probably relate to her crying reactions in stressful Class Trial moments or body discoveries. After all, if most of us were really there, we probably wouldn’t have the level head Teruko manages to keep.
Despite it only being Chapter 2, however, I feel like Eden has dodged many of the criticisms of bland characterization that Hina, Sonia, and Kiibo have faced. That’s because in only two chapters, Eden has established herself as a central figure in this story (or at least the story of this chapter). She’s had moments of doubt and moments of pride, tried to reunite the group yet failed to execute her goals, and given Teruko a rundown on her entire worldview. Eden has undoubtedly changed a lot through her relationship with Arei.
If subversions are at play with Eden, I think it’s almost certain that she dies at some point. I know that Kiibo isn’t technically a survivor of v3, but he absolutely could have been. If you come at it from that perspective, then the only archetypes with three survivors in it are the Nice One and the Jerk, and I’ve already laid out why I don’t think Charles is going to survive. Not even the Protagonist makes it out with three survivors…!
Anyways, if you’ve been following my DRDT viewing experience, you probably already know that I believe Eden to be the blackened of Chapter 2. Such an early death, especially one with such a brutal murder method, would be a total blindside on what people would expect from the Nice One. Some people might say that it would be such a blindside that it would be character assassination were it to happen, but I believe that the groundwork has been laid such that she could plausibly be the killer AND the same ol’ nice Eden that we’ve come to love throughout the first two chapters.
Alternately, she could also die later in the story. I think in pretty much any situation, being a killer would be a more interesting twist on the Nice One than being a victim. A Nice One victim would probably be more of a “oh no, they were so kind, who would have done this?”, while a killer would follow more of a fall from grace. I would rather see the latter as a deeper dive into her character and what might cause a nice character like her to snap, but I’m aware that’s just my opinion. Either way, I sadly don’t think Eden will be a survivor of this game. If I’m proven wrong, though, I wouldn’t be mad– the DRDT universe clearly needs more Nice Ones in it.

“The Quiet Victim is a shy or anxious character who may initially struggle to meaningfully communicate with the rest of the cast. They were probably a victim of bullying in the past. While the audience initially pities them, their development will make the audience solidify an opinion in the end, whether positive or negative.”
Anxious? Check. Struggle talking? Check. Bullied in the past? Not only bullied, but overwhelmingly discriminated against as well– triple check. Man, this character analysis thing is easy! (/j)
Still, Nico definitely feels like the Chihiro of their cast, down to the focus on gender and association with a murder in the Gym. While they do still say some blunt things in Chapter 1, there’s much more of a focus and explanation of it in Chapter 2. Thus, I think it’d be fair to say that the writing may have intentionally made Nico seem like more of a Quiet Victim than they appeared to be just to better pull the rug out from under us later. Increase the pity so that there’s more of a WTF moment when they go sicko mode on Ace.
The Shy Victim already has a lot of variation to it, which makes it difficult to assess how Nico’s character might play out whether you think DRDTdev is playing it by the book or running with a subversion. Chihiro was a Quiet Victim who tried to become brave, and became a tragic early victim because of it. Mikan was a Quiet Victim who’s helpful heart led to her accidental corruption, transforming her into an unforgivable blackened for the sake of despair. Himiko was a Quiet Victim who found encouragement from Tenko and solace with Angie, and mourning both of their deaths turned her into a worthwhile survivor. So, what about Nico?
If I had to speculate (which, of course, this entire post is entirely consisted of), I would say that Nico is going for a “Mikan, but better” scenario. Nico’s already had the moral grayness and (attempted) murder inserted into their character, now they just have to reap the narrative rewards. Unlike Mikan, Nico’s character development was internally motivated (well, okay, it was externally motivated by Ace, but that bullying made Nico have an internal revelation) instead of being forcibly enacted by a magical disease. That makes any changes or consequences that occur feel much more fair for their character. Giving them some time after their probable lowest point also gives them time for a potential redemption arc, which could be very interesting to see.
I still guess that Nico will probably die in Chapter 3 or 4, but that’s another entirely unsubstantiated opinion. If they did survive, though, that’d be a W for the nonbinary community, so 👍 Rooting for ya, buddy!

“The Fandom’s Scapegoat is a unique role, being more determined by reception than the actual text. In the story, the character takes some morally gray actions. For whatever reasons, the fandom then decides to hate them, being hypocritically harder on them as compared to others. Their fans, however, will defend them to the death.”
Oh boy. Look, I don’t enjoy putting J here. I don’t want to imply that I don’t think anybody likes J, or that people shouldn’t like J, because that’s not how I feel at all! Honestly, this role is kind of broken, and if I were to make this post again, I’d probably change it.
The role would be titled something more like “The Poorly Remembered,” and focus more on how their writing seems to leave the audience remembering one of their worst, if not their worst, traits. For Sayaka, her betrayal, for Hiyoko, her bullying and whininess, and for Tsumugi, her repetitive plainness and the unpopular twist she heralded. There’s more to all of their characters than just those few traits, but it can be easy to forget that based on how their stories ended.
J still wouldn’t fit that role super well, as there are many more obvious reasons to like her character. Her blunt insults can be funny, her tsundere moments are pretty cute, and you can’t help but feel bad for her as a victim of Arturo’s stalking. Still, I would say that her most prominent character trait is her hatred of all things girly and subsequent denouncement of her mom, which can be annoying to some. I have a personal pet peeve against “just like other girl” types (I still like J enough, don’t worry), so hopefully that isn’t bleeding into my analysis too much.
Still, out of the cast, I think J might fit the Fandom’s Scapegoat role the best. Thankfully I’ve never seen anybody insist that she should just give Arturo a chance, because that’s definitely the wrong move. She did take a morally gray action surrounding Arturo, though, which is when she revealed his secret in the Class Trial. While it was probably the right thing to do, given that everyone will die if the truth isn’t revealed, the manner in which she did it speaks to a potential sadistic side.
I’ve also seen the sentiment spread that in Trial 2 (and maybe Trial 1 as well, I wasn’t in the fandom at that time) some people believe in swap theory because they would simply prefer J to be dead over Arei, who they like better. Similarly, some people were willing to believe that J could be the killer in either chapter simply because she was the character people were most willing to part with. I am well aware that not EVERYONE who believes in swap theory or J as the killer did it for these reasons, but I am also under the impression that some people did. However, J is obviously not without her fans, and just like fans of Sayaka, Hiyoko, and Tsumugi, those fans will defend her to the death.
Given that the role is kind of broken and can be pretty much anything (attempted first killer turned first victim, sudden third victim who was conceptualized as a survivor, mastermind who was secretly the first killer), I have no idea what to say about J’s future in this game. I think that her remote and her talent are incredibly suspicious for being a killer. I think that her struggles to break away from her mother’s fame, only to be confronted by it time and time again, could make her a very tragic victim or a worthy survivor. I think that the idea of her and Ryan masterminding the killing game together is really fun and interesting. J’s role in Despair Time is a mystery to me, which is great! I can’t wait to be surprised by whatever she has in store in the future.

“The Strange Actor immediately stands out to the Protagonist for their unique, potentially dark style. They’re a mysterious character that deals with themes of lying and/or perceived, strange identities. However, that doesn’t stop them from being theatrical and showoff-ish, recognizable in any scene they’re in."
Dark style? Call in the Horror Fanatic to do the job right!
Veronika isn’t exactly as mysterious as somebody like Kiyo, but I think she embodies the ideals of the Strange Actor pretty well. I think the point is more so that, even if Veronika tells us exactly who she is and what she stands for, we (or at least most of us) still can’t empathize with her. This makes her stand out as a weird character that you could truly only find in a Danganronpa-brand killing game. That sort of vibe is what makes Veronika a good Strange Actor in my mind.
It’s much easier to fit her theatricality and dark style to the Strange Actor than it is her themes. The way she outwardly admires the most messed up of characters and seems delighted at signs of conflict steal the show whenever she’s on screen. The same kind of goes with her various horror-based fun facts (just due to how interesting they are), although that’s a trait that many of DRDT’s Ultimates share. The girl wears eyeballs as hairpins. I really don’t think I needed to elaborate this much.
Similar to the Horny One, I think that the best way for Veronika to subvert her archetype would be as an actually important character. Celeste and Kiyo both die as third killers, and while they’re important in the moments of each of their Class Trials, they don’t really factor into the main plot or the endgame. Gundham is definitely more important as the fourth killer and an important person to Sonia, but he’s overall silly enough that he kind of feels divorced from the main storyline.
Veronika could accomplish this in a few ways. One is with the theory that Veronika is the mastermind. That would be very convenient for the sake of my Color Theory, and a fun instance of hiding in plain sight to have the mastermind be someone who was noticeably enjoying the killing game all along. She could also be a Chapter 5 death, either as the killer (more straightforward) or the victim (but probably in a Nagito or Kokichi kind of way). Being a survivor would also make Veronika an important character, although that kind of feels like too much of a subversion, even for me.
As a final note, I’ll add that, depending on how the story goes, I think Veronika could potentially swap archetypes with Arturo or David down the road. Arturo’s dramatic attitude also stands out, and his focus on appearances fits with themes of identity; David is an Ultimate Public Speaker all about lying and acting in the way he wants the world to see him. Meanwhile, Veronika already kind of stalks Arturo and may continue to stalk David, and I just mentioned how her fate may mirror that of Nagito or Kokichi, two Chaotic Bastards.
Pretty interesting, huh? I bet if Veronika were here, she’d be a fan of this discussion.

“The Sporty Dumbass is a ‘punch first, ask questions later’ kind of character who’s willing to put everything on the line for their beliefs. Despite their jockish appearance, the Sporty Dumbass has a lot of heart, with emotion playing into their characterization in a major way. Basically, a himbo, except with a little more fight.”
If you don’t think that emotion plays into Ace’s characterization in a major way, I advise you to watch DRDT again. Of course, I’d generally advise that people rewatch DRDT because it’s a really good story, but, I digress.
Ace has emotionally overloaded reactions to pretty much everything. He’s super scared when Xander threatens to fight him, super pissed at Levi’s betrayal, and super sadistic when it comes to asserting his power over Nico. We already saw him put everything on the line for his beliefs when he admitted to holding back key evidence (the conversation he overheard between David and Arei) because he was so convinced that Nico was the killer. He leads with his heart, his brains a distant afterthought.
However, just because Ace leads with his heart doesn’t mean he has to be nice about it. And, I think that’s the main way that he subverts the archetype of the Sporty Dumbass: he’s a mean little dude! Leon wasn’t the nicest either, but he tried to get along with people like Mondo and was genuinely interested in Sayaka. He may have been the first killer, but that wasn’t even his choice– he may not have decided to hurt anybody if he wasn’t already put in a life-threatening situation. Akane can be kind of careless, but she had a strong connection with Nekomaru, and was generally willing to lend a helping hand. Kaito is by far the most caring of the bunch, giving his all to motivate Shuichi and Maki while he was still alive.
Ace has no friends. Most people want to stay far away from him, and the few that don’t, he pushes away. He has a lot more fight and general malice than the typical himbo. Thus, no matter what he does, he can’t be a straightforward Sporty Dumbass.
As such, I don’t have any strong subversion-based predictions for where his character would go. We already had a first killer, survivor, and fifth killer, so if we were just picking on what’s straight up the most different, it would be… middling victim, I guess? (Nico already tried their best…) Chapter 3 or 4 victim is certainly possible for Ace, but so is him still being the Chapter 2 killer in my mind. I sort of get survivor vibes from him, although I can’t pinpoint exactly why. I guess it’s just because his character has a lot of room to grow, possibly in a redemption kind of way? Or because it’d be kinda weird for him to almost die in Chapter 2, only for him to die for real a chapter or two later…?
Thankfully, I know I’m not the only one who believes in Ace’s chances of survival, so I know I don’t sound like a clown on this particular point. The jockish jockey boy may be around for a while yet, so perhaps he can have a change of heart.

“The Physical Threat is immediately noted by the protagonist as someone who, whether due to their talent or backstory, is someone who could easily kill others. The Physical Threat’s demeanor backs this up, their severity intimidating. But, don’t worry: there’s probably a soft spot down there just begging to be exposed!”
Now, I know that Arei isn’t actually noted as the biggest physical threat when the cast first meets– it’s Levi, though it should be Xander– but, hear me out. I put Mondo in here even though people were way more afraid of Sakura than him. Similarly, I think Arei still fits this archetype well, even if she wasn’t denoted as the scariest.
Part of this is because the emotions you’re supposed to come out of Arei’s introduction feeling are “disturbed and uncomfortable.” Xander certainly looks that way after Arei’s departure when he calls her “rude and disrespectful.” He and Teruko quickly turn the topic of conversation towards the subject of Xander getting into fights, which is a bit unrelated, but ends with Teruko telling Xander that he should stop getting into so many fights. An underlying message is that Xander shouldn’t get into any more fights with Arei, because based on the outcome of that (verbal) fight, he’d totally lose.
That’s not to say Arei isn’t physically intimidating as well! When I think of Arei’s strength, the first thing I think of is the thumbnail of Chapter 2 Episode 4, the CG where she strangles MonoTV with her own rope. She reminds us in the ensuing conversation that she can toss a bowling ball with ease, and her victory in the arm wrestling competition highlights her brutality. Eden was certainly scared of her once upon a time, although that was once again more in the mental department.
In terms of subversions… well, one department in which she isn’t winning is the death order. As you may have noted, every Physical Threat dies unfortunately in Chapter 2. Assuming you’re of the belief that Arei is really dead, then she played directly into that stereotype. The pattern was probably borne of another way to make the remaining cast fear the killing game. If even the most immediately threatening person can die at the start, then how can they really think they can make it out alive?
I think that Arei improves the archetype of the Physical Threat by having more of a character arc of her own, even in a limited time. Mondo changes slightly by admitting Taka as his friend, but he never resolved any of the trauma of his brother’s death. Peko was on the verge of realizing that she was more than a tool to Fuyuhiko, but her execution got in the way of her being able to act upon it at all. Ryoma very pointedly doesn’t change at all (other than arguably becoming more depressed), which is why Kirumi decides to take advantage of him.
Although Arei similarly got cut off just as she was beginning to change, we at least got to see more of what a changed Arei would be like before she died. That change was very plot relevant, too, as without it, Arei might not have died (sad :( ). There was more time and focus put into her character arc than there was into Mondo’s or Peko’s, even within an otherwise packed chapter. Just another reason to appreciate DRDT’s superb writing and characterization!
-
And, that’s the end! I hope that was as fun for you to read as it was indulgent for me to write. If people really like this, maybe I’ll consider running it for another fangan in the future, like DRA, SDRA2, or Eden’s Garden (although I’d probably need at least one genuine chapter before I write that one). Any of those casts would fit these archetypes worse than DRDT, but, well, that’s what makes DRDT a good starting place for explaining how it could apply to a fangan. I kinda doubt this’ll super blow up, given how long and dense it turned out, but… eh, maybe it’ll ~subvert~ my expectations.
…if you took a shot every time I said “subversion” in this post, you’d be deader than Xander–
I Know What You Did Last Summer (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, MURDER, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, KNIFEPLAY, STALKING, ANGST, voyeurism, underage drinking, JJ x reader, pogue!reader
➥ Happy Halloween weekend!
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @/kimjiho1

summary: When your friends start dying one by one, you're not exactly honest when the police ask if you know of anyone who'd want to hurt them. You do...but he's dead. You know this because you buried him.
~
You stared out into the water, a rare morning in which you woke up early enough to watch the sun rise over Outer Banks. This time last year, you might’ve tried to catch a wave or two, a way for you to often escape and clear your head. However, the problems of last year were gone and there was nothing left for you to escape from.
No one left for you to escape from.
Your gaze fell to the dock beneath your feet, eyes glazing over as memories of a tumultuous relationship plagued your thoughts. The memory of bruised skin and aching limbs made you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself, the cool North Carolina breeze having nothing to do with it. You tensed for half a second at the sound of a familiar voice on the wind before realizing that you were only imagining it as you often did these days.
Some days you thought you were going crazy, but then you reminded yourself that no sane person could do what you did and walk away with no baggage whatsoever. Then again, it could be argued that no sane person could do what you did period. Thoughts of that night left a sour taste in your mouth, and for the past year, you constantly worried if you did the right thing. It didn’t matter if you did or didn’t because it wasn’t like you could take it back, but still…
Analyzing your past decisions made you feel less like a sociopath or something.
When you heard your mom calling you from the house, you pulled yourself away from the water. Your dad was just heading out for work, and he exchanged a quick hug with you on the way to his truck. You could tell that your 180 within the past year stumped them, but it was in that good way that always sparked a bunch of compliments—you’re so much happier or you’re talking more or you’re around a lot more.
The difference was noticeable to anybody who knew you…and everyone knew why.
Even if they didn’t want to say it.
“You know I leave for work in a little bit, but I put some bacon in the oven, and I just wanted you to know so you could take it out.”
You smiled at her, leaning against the counter.
“We’ll see how long it lasts once JJ gets here,” you told her.
Your tone was mocking, but you both knew you were entirely serious. After telling her that you might be staying at Kie’s tonight, you bid her goodbye, gaze focused on the oven as you checked the bacon. You knew it wouldn’t be long before half of your friends burst through that door, and so you didn’t hesitate to take it out the moment it looked like it was done.
It was when you were placing the pan on the stove top…when you heard it.
It was a light thump that came from the back of the house, and you paused with a frown. It was hardly anything—could’ve easily been a limb falling out of a tree or something—if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounded like it came from inside of the house. Your frown deepened the longer you stood there, listening some more without success. With reluctance, you wrote it off, and you only just relaxed when you felt hands on your shoulders.
“Jesus!”
You pressed your hand to your chest, frowning over your shoulder as both a familiar blond and brunette made themselves comfortable at your table. You hadn’t even heard them pull up, oblivious even to the door opening.
“No, JJ,” the voice behind you corrected with a chuckle, and you rolled your eyes.
“Hilarious,” you commented. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”
“Kind of figured when you grabbed your chest just then,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What were you looking at, anyway?”
Her question reminded you of the noise, and realizing that it was probably them you heard, you shrugged.
“Thought I heard something, but it was just you guys.”
By now, JJ had joined them, leaning back in a chair.
“You’re still coming to Rose’s little ‘fall festivity’ right? Somehow Wheezie got out of going by talking our dad into letting her go to a sleepover instead, and I don’t really wanna be alone.”
Her words quieted some near the end, a brief awkward silence as your eyes met hers, both of you ignoring the obvious.
“Of course,” you assured her. “I told my mom I’d probably be staying at Kie’s since it’s closer to your house. Knowing Rose, this thing could go on all night.”
Sarah agreed with that, interrupting John B and JJ’s conversation.
“You can still change your mind, you know,” she told him with a pout, bumping his shoulder with her own.
The face he made was answer enough, and she huffed.
“Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m sure Ward would be thrilled about that,” her boyfriend mumbled.
“You know he’s better, now. He’s not so against you ever since…”
Your best friend trailed off, and your gaze found the floor just as all of theirs traveled to you. The silence was short—not so much awkward—but definitely far from light. You all knew what Sarah was going to say, how Ward stopped caring about so many superficial things. How he was the kind of man who focused on things that actually mattered, now.
He was the kind of man who carried grief, now.
…and it changed him for both the better and the worst.
“I’m going to go and grab my purse and change of clothes. Bacon’s all yours,” you mostly said to JJ, quick to leave the room.
Once inside your room, your eyes landed on your mirror, gaze lingering on the bare space where dozens of pictures used to be. It had been a little over a year since you’d taken them down, but sometimes, when you recalled the happier times before it all went up in flames, you missed them. You missed looking at them when you did your makeup or even just lingering on them when you were on the phone.
Chest aching for so many reasons, you forced yourself to turn away.
It was as you were grabbing your purse and the extra bag with your dress for tonight did you glance up. You blinked at your window, a small frown forming between your brows. Approaching it, you reached out, slowly pulling it back down and locking it shut, desperately trying to remember if you’d even let it up the night before.

“I swear to God, Rose is about to lose her shit,” Sarah chuckled from next to you. “She bought that dress months ago for this stupid party only for her to show up wearing the same one.”
You sipped on your drink that you were definitely not supposed to be having, a light laugh of your own escaping. The little soiree was everything Sarah said it would be, and you could see why Wheezie took the opportunity to bail. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but like every year—or almost every year—Rose was having a series of parties leading up to the last night in October. You were just about to drag Sarah to the kitchen in search of those little finger sandwiches when a loud clanging noise caught everyone’s attention.
Ward stood in the center of the living room when you looked over.
The older man had a glass in his hand and was setting down a fork with the other. You couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in a year, and something in your chest ached, guilt eating at you. There was a small smile on his lips, but the rest of his expression didn’t exactly match up. Somehow, you knew that you weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.
“Um…sadly, we weren’t blessed to partake in one of Rose’s fabulous get togethers last year…”
You swallowed at the way the mood in the room seemed to sink, and you didn’t need to look over to find Sarah glancing at you.
“As you all know, my only son Rafe went missing around this time a year ago.”
Somber murmurs filled the room, and your hand tightened on your drink. Tuning Ward out, the only thing you heard was white noise, probably missing another tangent about how he wished he’d been less hard on him and had done more to heal their relationship before he had to file that missing person’s report that fateful morning.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you fought to keep a frown off of your face.
Memories of dark blond hair and intense blue eyes plagued your mind, making your stomach turn. If Ward’s memories with Rafe were less than fond, then yours were absolutely gut-wrenching. The hairs on your arm stood on end as you thought about the last time you’d seen your ex-boyfriend, and you felt your feet carrying you down the stairs just as Sarah reached for you.
The backyard was empty when you made it outside, and the fresh air did so little to calm you down.
You could hear the blood rushing in your ears at the thought of Rafe, a cold chill passing through you. With a huff, you stepped out of your heels, tears kissing your eyes as you thought about Ward in there giving some grand speech about Rafe and their relentless efforts to find him. You were pulled out of it by the sound of your name, and you wiped your face, oblivious to the fact that some tears had even spilled over.
Sarah’s sympathetic gaze met yours when you turned around.
“Are you okay…?” she whispered, and you sniffed.
“What do you think?” you lightly wondered, a humorless chuckle escaping as you shrugged. “Who knew that a felony was all it took for Rafe to finally get the love he always wanted.”
Your words were scathing, and Sarah slowly approached you, reaching for you.
“Hey…hey,” she repeated until you looked at her. “You’re safe, now. Rafe can’t ever hurt you ever again.”
While those words brought you comfort, they did nothing to diminish your anger.
“It’s not…fair,” you breathed, shaking your head. “He was nothing short of a monster to me…and they talk about him, now, like he was some angel come to earth.”
You knew it bothered Sarah too—she was there that night after all—and she sighed. The blonde pulled you into a hug, holding you tight and rubbing your back. You sometimes wondered if her feelings on the matter were as black and white as yours. Rafe was her brother, after all, and despite their less than enviable relationship, she had to have still loved him.
“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”
You said the words so quietly, as if paranoid someone would hear despite the fact that you were alone. Sarah tensed for half a second, probably because for the first time in months, you were explicitly talking about what you did that night—what all four of you did. She pulled away, gaze somber and resolved all at once.
“It’s been a year,” she said as if that were answer enough. “…turns out the police are even more useless than we all thought.”
You swallowed, and Sarah fought to calm you.
“If they haven’t found him by now then…”
She trailed off with a shrug, but you weren’t so convinced. While plenty of people got away with murder, plenty of others did not, and it didn’t matter that Rafe’s temper had escalated so badly one night until it came down to your life or his. Nobody would care that he used to threaten you and choke you and harm you so bad that you could barely walk sometimes. They wouldn’t care about any of that.
All that would matter was that he was Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son.
…and you’d killed him.

John B was the first to die.
…and maybe that was why the horrible truth didn’t even cross your mind then.
Your sleep-addled brain fought hard to make sense of the words pouring out of Cleo’s mouth, and despite how unbelieving they were, the feminine wails you could hear in the background told you they were true whether you wanted them to be or not. Sarah’s choked sobs were the last thing you heard before Cleo was forced to hang up.
You didn’t even remember throwing on clothes, only knowing that you somehow managed to leave the house looking halfway decent.
When you made it to the hospital, Sarah was nowhere to be found.
“She was…” Kie trailed off, shaking her head. “They had to give her something.”
You took in the way Kiara was shaking, and unable to keep standing, she collapsed in a chair. You wanted to ask her what happened, but you could see it on her face that she couldn’t handle that, right now. Her eyes were shiny and glazed over, and she looked like she was going to be sick. She looked like she could barely even breathe.
“What…? I don’t…”
You couldn’t get it out, feeling wholly numb as your gaze met Cleo’s. The dark-skinned girl ran her hands down her face, her own gaze tearful.
“They found him in the water, man.”
Her soft words made your heart sink, and you frowned.
“Said he got tangled up somehow… Drowned.”
At that, you did finally sit down, reaching out to hold the armrest. Somehow, any other cause of death would’ve made it feel less real, preposterous maybe. You just couldn’t see John B. dying at the hands of some asshole or choking on his food or run down like a dog in the street.
…but drowning?
John B. dying in the water—a place he loved and often frequented—made sense.
That you could believe.
“Pope and JJ are on the way,” Kie mumbled so low you almost didn’t hear her.
Nothing about any of this felt real. It was only yesterday that you were talking to John B., tossing a beer at his head after some slick remark. You couldn’t quite process that you’d never be able to do that again. Your best friend was gone. Sarah’s boyfriend was gone, and you wouldn’t see nor talk to him again. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that lack of reason was what kept you numb, kept you staring at the white floors of the hospital until two familiar figures made themselves known.
It wasn’t until your eyes lifted and met JJ’s did it really hit you.
The pain in his face from losing the friend he’d known practically since birth seeped into you too, and you were on your feet before JJ’s legs could fail him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight for both of your sakes, and your tears finally spilled over when you felt JJ’s hitting your skin.
You never really saw JJ cry much—it just wasn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was just the way he was or if he took it upon himself to be the obligatory goofy friend who was almost always in a good mood. Today, however, JJ cried harder than you’d ever seen him, the death of his best friend a thousand times worse than anything Luke could do to him.
He held you like a lifeline, even well into the night when everyone was forced to retreat to their homes, nothing more anyone could do. Even if JJ could find some comfort in his own home, you wouldn’t dare ask him to, feeling that same refusal to be alone. You had only been able to shake your head at your mom when she came to see if you wanted—needed—anything.
You didn’t miss the way her sad and heavy gaze fell to JJ in your arms, the blond boy sobbing into your chest as you held him on your bed.
Neither of you talked for what felt like days. There really wasn’t much to say, anyway. On the off chance that JJ moved, it was purely to use the bathroom or eat something that would keep him off the brink of starvation. You couldn’t really tell if you were handling it better than him or if you were just coping in an equally unhealthy way.
There was just this understanding that grief had kind of taken both of your voices.
JJ leaned on you throughout the entirety of John B.’s funeral, and when your eyes met Pope’s, you shook your head at the silent question in his dark eyes. They flitted to JJ at that, and you weren’t surprised to see them holding each other at the end of the service. John B. was like a brother to both of them, and maybe they could help each other in ways the rest of you couldn’t.
“Why was he out there so late?”
That was what Kie wondered as you all sat at The Chateau, still fighting to understand your new reality without John B. only hours after his funeral.
“We all always go swimming whenever,” you told her, and she shook her head.
“…but never that late…and if so, never alone,” she argued, looking at all of you. “They think he died around one in the morning. There was no alcohol or anything in his system. Why would John B. be out there at one in the morning?”
“What does it matter?” JJ spat, making you flinch. “Why are we sitting here trying to analyze this when John B. is dead? Huh?”
Kie looked taken aback, and you could see her mentally reminding herself that JJ was in pain.
“I’m just saying-.”
“No, I know what you’re trying to do.”
The blond was standing, now, angrily staring down at her.
“Trying to make sense of this, trying to find something or someone to blame because that’s easier to swallow than the truth,” he nastily threw at her. “John B.’s death doesn’t make sense…and sometimes that’s just life.”
He stormed off before anyone could respond, and you swallowed at the sound of his bike starting up. You took Kie’s hand at the sight of her forlorn expression, gently squeezing it and sending her a smile. JJ was angry, probably angrier than any of you, and he wasn’t keen on how Kie was trying to deal with it either. The silence after he left was thick, and you felt almost afraid to speak your mind too, because now that Kie had said it, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
It didn’t make sense for John B. to be out in the water that late.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when JJ kissed you only a few days after John B.’s funeral, but you were.
You all were grieving, and besides Sarah who hadn’t left her home in days, JJ wasn’t coping well. He was so angry and confused and hurt, and truthfully, you’d just been happy he wasn’t going off on some bender or starting fights. He didn’t exactly grow up with the best example on how to cope with anything, and so when he pressed his lips to yours on your front porch, you could only think that there were worse ways to handle this.
Your breathing was uneven as he ran his hands over you, backing you up into your house. Your parents weren’t home, adulthood stopping for no one in the midst of tragedy, and you held onto JJ to keep from tripping over your own feet. You’d wondered what it’d feel like to kiss JJ sometimes, but only ever in passing, and you could count the number of times on one hand. It was bound to happen at least once or twice when you were friends for as long as you had been.
The kiss was rough but not unenjoyable, and you moaned into his mouth when your back met your couch. To your surprise, you liked the feel of JJ’s body on yours, keeping you trapped between him and the couch, and the blond sighed into the kiss when your fingers ran up his back, dipping beneath his shirt. When his lips ghosted along your jaw, your gaze landed on the ceiling, and you arched your chest up into his. His lips were pressing open mouth kisses to your throat, and when your gaze roamed—landing on the window behind him—you violently flinched.
“What’s wrong-?”
JJ cut his own words off when you sat up, lips parted as you stared at the window.
It was dark, and the longer you stared outside, the sillier you felt. Your heart was racing so fast—much too fast—and for a moment, you were scared you were having a heart attack. You felt overheated, and your skin was fighting to get back to normal instead of clammy. JJ said your name again, and you merely shook your head at him, struggling to stop your hands from trembling and your vision from swaying.
For just a moment, you could’ve sworn that someone was outside and standing right outside of that window. It was brief, quite literally a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but it wasn’t solely that that had you fighting to calm down, right now. You reached up, rubbing your chest and blinking back tears, hardly paying attention to JJ’s concern.
The way the person stood—their height, their build, their stance—it was all too familiar.
It looked eerily similar to your ex-boyfriend.
That thought had you standing, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. A few tears escaped without your consent, and you licked your lips, finally admitting to yourself why this whole John B. situation had you numb. The thought of John B. now had your chest aching, and for a brief moment, you weren’t seeing your best friend be lowered into the ground.
It was Rafe.
“Are you okay…?”
You finally acknowledged JJ, and you looked at him with a tearful gaze.
“No, I don’t think I am,” you choked out. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, I promise.”
“I shouldn’t have done that-.”
“No, JJ, it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I’m just not handling this as well as I thought I was.”
He seemed to understand that, nodding at you.
The silence wasn’t tense or anything, but it was a little awkward. After all, one moment you and JJ were clearly about to have sex, and now, you couldn’t get rid of the cold chill that came over you. You glanced at the window again, so sure that you’d seen someone there, only looking away when JJ pulled you down to sit with him.
“You know I like you,” he whispered, making your eyes widen a bit. “Well, now you know.”
You blinked at him, oddly thinking that whatever this was tonight was some combination of grief and loneliness and the result of a violent confrontation with his own mortality. JJ ran his hand through his blond locks, sighing.
“First it was the whole Pogue on Pogue thing,” he said to which you snorted, recalling the day Pope and Cleo waltzed into The Chateau holding hands. “…then it was Rafe.”
You looked down at that, tightening your arms around yourself at the mention of your ex.
“Then Rafe went missing, and it didn’t seem right even though you didn’t seem…sad about it.”
You swallowed at that, a wet and muddy night coming to mind.
“…but now my best friend is dead, and I’m scared that if I wait another minute, it’ll be too late.”
Your gaze softened at that, looking at him, and it really didn’t take you long to realize that deep down you’d liked JJ too. You first noticed the feeling after the third or fourth time Rafe had hit you, and you just remembered thinking that JJ would never. You hadn’t lingered on it, but now you were wishing you had. Maybe if you felt like you had a way out, you would’ve left Rafe sooner. The relationship might not have continued.
…and that night never would’ve happened.
With the death of John B., you understood exactly what JJ meant. John B. hadn’t been some old man pushing ninety who lived this long and fulfilling life. He was eighteen, unable to even get the chance to start. It was unexpected and heartbreaking but most of all scary, so when you took the blonde’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.
You had no idea that while taking the first step with JJ into the second relationship you’d ever have, Pope’s body was being dumped in the water.
When you all collectively made the decision the next morning to go and see Sarah, no one thought too much of it when Pope didn’t answer. Sarah was allowed her solitude to grieve, you felt she was owed that, but none of you wanted your friend to deal with this alone for too long. Considering how early it was, everyone just assumed that he was still asleep when you decided to meet up.
JJ—now in the possession of the Twinkie—made the decision to slow down at the sight of so many squad cars near the water. It was strange, and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Outer Banks was not without its fair share of crime, but you’d never had the misfortune of witnessing a coroner’s van pull up to the scene.
“What do you think that’s about?” Cleo wondered.
You spoke without thinking.
“Call Pope again.”
You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you looked out of the window, and there was a beat of silence before they all reached for their phones at once. That twisted feeling only tightened when none of them got an answer. You didn’t voice your thoughts, partly because you didn’t want to be the one to, but you also didn’t want to make them true, somehow.
…but they were true whether you said them aloud or not.
You’d never been inside of an interrogation room—or Kildare County’s version of one, anyway. You never thought you would be, but in this moment, you were thinking of a lot of things you never thought would be. Shoupe—a man you’d grown used to seeing all your life—handed you a cup of water, and your fingertips only grazed it as it sat on the table.
With the discovery that Pope was now dead too, the numbness you’d felt was forced to crack and shatter. While Cleo had to be restrained and held back from ambushing the crime scene, you’d been unable to keep upright, collapsing right there on the side of the road. The entire gruesome debacle had attracted a crowd. After all, Outer Banks just wasn’t used to this, and several people tried to help you remain conscious—namely JJ.
You didn’t even remember breaking down, didn’t even remember being approached by the cops. You actually could barely remember a thing after witnessing a familiar body being pulled from the murky water. You knew that you cried, had to, because your eyes were tight. You knew that you screamed because your throat was raw. You knew these things because of how you felt…not because you actually remembered any of it.
Shoupe’s sigh made you blink, and instead of laying on the side of that road, you were surrounded by four walls.
“Do you know of…anyone who’d want to hurt Heyward’s son?”
His words gave you pause, and you lifted your gaze with a deep frown.
“…what?” you choked out after some time.
His gaze was soft—Pope was your friend and he’d watched you both grow up as thick as thieves—but also inquiring. You watched him briefly lick his lips, sighing to himself as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He seemed to be conflicted, having some kind of internal battle before reaching out to you across the table.
“Pope was dead before he was in the water.”
You merely blinked at him, not quite processing his words.
“Someone…someone cut his throat.”
At that, your vision blurred, and you could see on Shoupe’s face that he was predicting what was about to happen before you even tried to stand. The older man reached for you again, attempting to keep you from falling, but your feet tripped over one another as your legs lost their strength. When your knees hit the hard floor, your brain didn’t even register the pain.

Burying two friends within two weeks of each other was something you would’ve never predicted. Not until you were in your seventies, at least. It felt like the opposite of unreal. It felt too real because all you could feel was pain. It was numbing and excruciating all at once somehow, and having the whole town look at you like some walking magnet for tragedy didn’t help.
In truth, all of your friends got the stares. Two out of the group were gone—one drowned and one brutally murdered—and people looked at the rest of your friends like they didn’t know what to think of them…but you? Oh, they looked at you like they both feared and hated you, and you knew why.
It was only a year ago that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had gone missing, and now two of your friends met the same fate everyone suspected Rafe did. There was something in their eyes that held blame, and you might have found it funny if you weren’t so angry and sad and miserable.
You were only responsible for one of them.
“No fingerprints, no footprints, no nothing,” Kie whispered, angrily. “It’s like Pope was just killed and dumped by a ghost.”
JJ was silent as he stared out into the rich girl’s yard, and you worriedly eyed him. Cleo too. It’s not like any of you were doing okay, but JJ had lost the two people he was closest to in the world, and Cleo was now in the same boat as Sarah. It was then that the blonde girl shifted, a noise leaving her throat that had you all looking over.
“Do I have to be the one to say what we’re all thinking?”
She looked between you all with a heavy gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.
“That John B.’s accident wasn’t an accident…?”
Your lips parted at that, and you looked around to see that no one else had expected that either. No one else but Kie who simply wrapped her arms around herself. You recalled her words from last week, how she’d questioned why John B. was even out on the water that late. JJ had been so quick to shut it down, and despite having the same question as Kie, you’d also forced yourself to let it go.
You hadn’t wanted to fathom that someone had killed John B.
“Now, hold on-.”
“Oh, come on, JJ!” Sarah cried. “John B. drowns at one something in the morning, and a week later one of his best friends is murdered?”
You swallowed, hating this conversation.
“This is too coincidental,” she whispered, wiping her face.
The silence was loud as her accusation—and the implications that came with it—just hung in the air. You all looked between each other, and you could see it then. It was sinking in that this was too much of a coincidence, and Cleo spoke up.
“Why would anyone want to hurt them?”
“I think you mean why would anyone want to hurt us,” Kie threw out, and you all froze. “If someone did kill John B. and that same person killed Pope…isn’t it safe to assume they’re working their way through the group?”
You stood, really hating this conversation now, and stared out into the yard.
“I mean, what? Only John B. and Pope happened to piss this person off?”
“That’s even if what you’re saying is true,” JJ argued, visibly disturbed, now. “I mean, think about this. Who the hell did all of us piss off this damn bad? Huh? That doesn’t make any sense.”
It was then that your gaze met Cleo’s, and something passed through her eyes that you also knew passed through yours. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the other girl was thinking about that night, recalling a bloodstained carpet and shovels that would never see the light of day. Your lips parted as your gaze lowered, and feeling like you might be sick, you sat down. No. There was nothing you could think of that all of you had done to collectively anger someone this much. However, there was something that came to mind that four of you had done.
…but Rafe was dead.
He’d been dead for a year, and so what Cleo was obviously thinking was clearly not possible.
Even with that fact, it still didn’t prevent you from being terrified, and it was no surprise that none of you wanted to be alone. Even if John B.’s accident was just that, someone had still killed Pope, and Outer Banks now had a murderer in their midst. If people looked at you with disdain before, then it was nothing in comparison to when a curfew was enforced.
“First it was Rafe…”
You tensed at the sound of the voice.
“…then John B. and now Pope.”
You cut your eyes to Kelce as he walked by you.
“We don’t need a curfew. What we need is to search your damn house,” he sneered, turning his back to you as he strode away.
You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Sarah to exit the shop. You knew that Kelce wasn’t alone in his sentiment. It was only just the day before when your eyes had met Topper’s, the blonde’s gaze unreadable despite the clenching of his jaw. Topper was never the kind of guy to evoke intimidation, but that was before he thought you had something to do with the disappearance of his best friend.
When Rafe went missing, you were questioned. It was expected. After all, you weren’t just his girlfriend but also the girlfriend who everyone knew he would literally get crazy about. Your rocky off-and-on relationship was no secret, so naturally you were the first to be brought in. The police hadn’t been able to find anything though, not then and not for the past year, so any suspicions anyone might’ve had were probably long forgotten about.
Until now.
The only difference was that now not only did they think you killed Rafe, but also your best friends.
“They’re assholes. You know that,” Sarah told you as she drove you back to her place.
The Cameron household was where you’d been staying when you weren’t at home with JJ. Ever since that night, something in you felt wrong about accepting the Cameron’s hospitality and even setting foot into their house. That night was complicated, this much was true, but the fact remained that you were responsible for their pain. Ward would never be reunited with his son because of you.
Smiling in their faces and eating at their table left a sour feeling in your gut.
“…but I did kill Rafe,” you whispered.
Sarah glanced at you at that.
“We all did,” she finally said. “…and it wasn’t like that. He was choking you, he was…he was killing you. It was self-defense.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the cops will think rolling him up and burying him in the woods was self-defense,” you scoffed.
Sarah was parked in her yard, now, and she gripped your arm. Her expression was hard as she stared at you, lips pressed together.
“Stop that,” she bit out. “Rafe… Rafe wasn’t going to stop. We had no choice, and do I sometimes wish things had ended differently for him and for us? Yeah. Even the most estranged of siblings don’t actually want to kill each other, but what’s done is done.”
She looked between your eyes, and you swallowed, recalling that silent conversation with Cleo. You licked your lips, touching your forehead and swallowing down a sigh.
“What if it’s not done?” you wondered, almost inaudibly.
When you looked at Sarah again, there was a frown on her face.
“We definitely know of someone who’d want us dead,” you whispered, and you watched the color drain from Sarah’s face.
“…and he’s dead.”
“…but what if he’s not?” you choked out. “What if…? I mean, sure, there was blood and we hit him twice and we buried him, but what if-.”
“Stop,” Sarah breathed, resting her hands on the wheel. “Stop talking.”
“Sarah-.”
“I said stop!”
The blonde girl looked visibly distressed, eyes wide and lips trembling as she stared ahead.
“We killed him. He’s dead…and he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Sarah sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than you. You could see how upsetting this conversation was for her, and again, you wished that night had gone differently. Getting your friends caught up in your relationship problems was your biggest regret, and no matter how many times they insisted they’d never take it back, it did nothing to ease your guilt.
Repeating Sarah’s words in your mind, you put thoughts of Rafe behind you.

You were having a horrifying case of déjà vu.
Around this time a year ago, you were also out in the middle of the woods at night, repeatedly stabbing at the dirt with a shovel. It had just rained then, and the ground had been wet—soft. You’d been less calm then, but also somehow less terrified than you were, now. A year ago, it had been four of you digging a hole.
Tonight, it was three.
Sticking together was the plan. Even if you didn’t collectively agree on it, there was the thought in all of your minds that someone was after you. Even JJ, who was in denial, didn’t turn down Sarah’s offer to sleep over at her place. Any other time where Rose and Ward would’ve vehemently opposed several Pogues taking up residence in their house, they were now a lot more welcoming.
Any doubt that you were being hunted like animals was nowhere to be found the night you discovered Cleo’s body.
The four of you were sleeping in Sarah’s room—JJ in the guest room right next door—when you heard the faintest thump. It seemed like forever ago, but in the night, it was oddly reminiscent of the day of Rose’s fall festivity or whatever—before John B. died. You recalled the noise you’d heard that day, your open window, and where you had written both of those things off, you now looked back in fear.
You’d sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. Noticing Cleo’s absence, you told yourself that she was getting something to drink or going to the bathroom. However, your effort to lay back down was halted when you heard it again—a faint thump from downstairs that made your hair stand on end for some reason. Glancing at your remaining best friends, you pushed yourself to your feet.
“Cleo?”
Your kept your voice low as you stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to unnecessarily wake the whole house. Only silence met you, and you frowned. The stillness of the house felt heavy, suffocating, and it unnerved you. It was just moments ago that it wasn’t so silent, and you walked back to Sarah’s room.
Glancing inside, there was still no sign of Cleo, and facing the fact that she wasn’t in the bathroom, you made your way downstairs.
The whole house was dark, and telling yourself that a light would be on if she was in the kitchen, you flipped the switch. An empty kitchen met you, as you expected, and your frown deepened. Walking back to the staircase, you looked up, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you climbed them. There were only so many places that she could be, and wondering if you’d missed her somehow, you checked all of the bathrooms. She wasn’t back in Sarah’s room either.
As you stood in the hallway, the complete darkness made you freeze.
It didn’t register, at first, and you stood there wracking your brain. Goosebumps completely covered your skin, now, and as you stared ahead, something in the back of your mind was screaming at you—sending off alarm bells. Something about this picture wasn’t right, and once it clicked, your heart sank to your gut.
There was no light coming from downstairs.
The kitchen light was now off.
Stumbling into Sarah’s room, you shook her and Kie awake.
“What, what?” the tan girl mumbled, Sarah’s huff coming from behind you.
“Something’s wrong,” you said, words tumbling over each other. “I can’t find Cleo.”
Both of them were wide awake, now, and Kie was frowning at you when Sarah turned her light on.
“What…?” she asked, disbelieving.
You tried to keep calm.
“I heard something, and I saw Cleo was gone, but she’s not in the bathroom, and she’s not downstairs,” you rushed out.
Sarah was still for half a second before she ran out of the room. While Kie went with her, you took it upon yourself to wake JJ, and once past his confusion, he was right on your heels as you made your way downstairs too. Kie was looking out the windows while Sarah searched each room.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” JJ said. “Don’t you guys have some alarm code or something? It’s not like she could’ve left without waking the whole house.”
JJ was right.
“So, what? You’re saying she’s still in the house? Hiding and playing some sick joke?” Sarah wondered, visibly stressed and scared. “That’s insane.”
You wondered if you should speak up about the kitchen light, about how someone had blatantly turned it off when you went upstairs. That car conversation with Sarah was on your mind, and your vision swam for a bit as you fought to keep upright. It might not be Cleo, but someone was definitely playing some sick joke.
“I’m going to wake my dad,” Sarah breathed. “This…this isn’t right.”
As she made to go upstairs, you slowly made your way to the back door. You stared out of the windows, scanning the yard for anything that might make sense of all this. The yard was empty, and you could hear JJ and Kie behind you as they talked and tried to make sense of what was going on. Too busy scanning the trees and what you could see of the neighbors, your gaze was focused much too high.
When you saw her, you wanted to be sick.
“Oh my God,” you choked out. “Oh my God, oh my God!”
You were scrambling to unlock the door before JJ or Kie could question you, and the house alarm was loud as you threw the door open. The grass was dewy and slippery, and you quite literally fell a few times before you reached her. You collapsed right next to her, and Kie’s scream was even louder than yours once she fully registered what she was seeing.
Your arms shook as you held Cleo’s broken body, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were too busy trying not to choke on your own sobs, you might’ve been screaming too. You could feel JJ’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to get you to let her go, but you felt possessed.
You couldn’t not hold her.
By now the rest of the household was outside too, and you could hear Rose on the phone, frantic and horrified. Mr. Cameron’s voice was in your ear as he too tried to get you to let her go. You couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you were hurting her any more—she was dead. Any hope for otherwise died the moment your wide eyes met her equally wide ones, dark gaze focused on the sky above. You felt like the least you could do was hold her—some kind of apology for not finding her sooner.
You were only convinced when the police showed up, Shoupe practically begging you to.
“We have to take her, now,” he said to you, his eyes meeting yours. “We have to do right by her and try and figure out what happened. You want that, don’t you?”
You remembered just staring at him, lips parted and chest heavy, before finally letting her go. JJ was quick to pull you beside him, his own hands trembling as he held you close. You knew that it was partly for you and partly for him. You completely leaned on him, feeling like you were moments away from fainting.
Especially so when you glanced up…your eyes landing on the open window of the second-floor bathroom.
You weren’t surprised the next day when you were face to face with Shoupe again and he said:
“She broke her neck.”
That wasn’t news to you. You found her…you held her, after all. You saw what she looked like, so his words were expected. His next, however, were not.
“Now, that could’ve happened when she fell…or it could’ve happened before.”
Your gaze lifted then, watching the older man heave a sigh and lean in closer across the table. His gaze was completely serious, lips pressed together and jaw clenched. He clasped his hands together as he regarded you.
“Now…I asked you this before when we pulled Pope out of that water…”
You swallowed.
“…and you gave me your answer then, and I believed you, but now I’m asking again.”
Tears kissed your eyes.
“…and depending on how you answer, I may not believe you this time.”
Dark blond hair and blue eyes filled your vision, a smooth and almost raspy baritone bouncing around between your ears. For just a moment, you weren’t in that room face to face with Shoupe. You were one year younger and rolling a lithe frame up in a bloody carpet. You and three other girls were carrying it to a familiar truck, determined to bury it where no one would ever find it. Even before Shoupe asked his question, that was all you could see.
…and yet, when he asked if you knew of anyone who’d want to hurt you and your friends, you still told him no.
That was two weeks ago, and now you were back in the woods…in a familiar spot…hoping to dig up a familiar face.
“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sarah spat, huffing as she stabbed at the dirt again.
“Look around!” Kie yelled, her voice bouncing off of the trees. “Three of our friends are dead! They’re dead, and you know what? When the cops asked if I knew of anyone who’d want to hurt them, I almost told them Rafe.”
You and Sarah paused at that, staring at her.
“Can you believe that? That sounds crazy, right because Rafe is dead, and..” she threw her arm up. “I would know!”
She was breathing hard, fighting to keep it together.
“…but Cleo was pushed. We all know that she didn’t fall. She was pushed, shoved, thrown, however you want to call it! Her neck was broken…and you all can say that it happened when she hit the ground, but I just don’t believe that.”
“Unless you’re saying one of us did it…” Sarah shrugged. “Someone would have to know the alarm code to not only turn it off, open the window, and toss her out…but also turn it back on as soon as they did it.”
“Sound like anyone we know?” Kie sarcastically wondered, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them.
There was a brief pause between you three as the horrifying possibility set in. Sarah was right. The requirements to pull something like that off fell to any of you, and you knew for a fact that none of you would ever, and so that was where Kie’s suspicions came in. Determined to face the truth one way or another, you continued to dig.
It felt so silly, attempting to dig up a man you’d most assuredly killed. You still had nightmares some nights about the feel of Rafe wrapping both hands around your neck, squeezing so tight that you were sure your neck would snap at any moment. Even when Sarah and Cleo had walked in, shocked and horrified at the sight before them, he hadn’t stopped.
He’d only been focused on killing you.
As you dug, you could remember their screams and the sound of them hitting him and trying to get him off. Nothing had worked, even when Kie came in, attempting to jump on his back. You didn’t know if it was the coke or alcohol that night that made him so determined to kill you regardless of witnesses. Either way, for your sake, you needed Rafe to be in this grave.
You could handle a lot of things, but you couldn’t handle Rafe still being out there.
“I don’t think we have the right spot,” Kie finally said after some time.
You yourself had briefly thought the same, but you remembered that night like the back of your hand. This was the right spot, and the longer you kept being greeted with dirt and more dirt, you could feel an internal panic setting in. Sarah stopped digging after Kie, but you kept going. You had to…because he had to be here.
“Y/N…”
“He’s here,” you breathed. “He has to be.”
Right now, there was only the sound of you frantically digging, and you hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until a sob bubbled up in your chest. You could hear Sarah calling your name again, but you paid her no mind, tossing the shovel aside and falling to your knees. You clawed at the dirt, looking for any sign of bone or clothing or even the damn rug!
“Y/N-,”
“No,” you screamed, throat hurting. “He has to be here, he has to be here.”
You felt like you were going to throw up, nails chipping and breaking as they only came in contact with dirt and sticks and rocks. Hitting your fist against the ground, you screamed again, this one dying into a fit of sobs. You felt Kie’s hands on your shoulders, and you struggled to breathe.
“This can’t be happening,” you heard Sarah breathe.
You pressed your face into your dirty hands, inconsolable as you were forced to face the truth.
“This doesn’t mean he’s alive,” Kie whispered. “Someone…someone else could know. I don’t know how, but it could be anyone else doing this, somebody who dug him up and is messing with us.”
“Or it could be Rafe!”
Your vision was blurry as you looked at her.
“It could be Rafe who wasn’t actually dead when we buried him. It could be Rafe killing my friends and torturing me and coming back to finish what he started!”
You pressed your forehead against the dirt, hunched over as the most awful wailing noise left you. You felt insane, like nothing in the world made sense, and you could hardly stand when Kie pulled you to your feet. If Rafe was still alive…your life as you knew it was over. You struggled to walk as Sarah put the shovels in the trunk, and when she closed it, she just stood there, hand pressed to the top with the other on her hip.
“So, what do we do? Do we go to the police and tell them that Rafe is doing this?”
“…and when they ask why?” Kie wondered, holding you upright. “What do we say? Y/N didn’t want to be with him anymore, so he ran off and came back a year later to kill her and her friends?”
You completely sank against the car, forehead pressed to the vehicle.
“…or better yet, what happens when we tell them we think Rafe is behind this only for his body to turn up? If everyone isn’t suspicious of us now—and they’re pretty fucking suspicious—they’ll definitely be then.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after some time, continuing when you felt their gazes on you. “I’m so sorry.”
“What-?”
“This is my fault,” you choked out, forcing yourself to straighten. “I should’ve left him the first time he hurt me. I should’ve…should’ve told someone, I should have called the police.”
“Y/N, this isn’t your fault,” Sarah argued.
“Yes, it is,” you cried, attempting to wipe your face and only succeeding in putting more dirt on it. “You hit him to get him off of me, but… I didn’t have to hit him again. I didn’t have to do that. He was already passing out, and I could’ve just called the cops and-.”
“…and deal with Rafe again when he was inevitably released?” Kie threw out. “Look, Sarah, your family is okay and all, but let’s face it. Rafe would not have stayed in jail long, if at all with Ward backing him up with his money.”
Neither of you argued against that, and your gaze found the ground.
“We need to get back,” Sarah said in a small voice. “It’s way past curfew, and if someone catches us out here, we’ll be even bigger suspects than we already are.”
Sarah was right, and when it became apparent that you needed help moving your feet, she guided you to the passenger side. Kie settled in the backseat, and all of you were quiet, minds no doubt occupied with the possibilities of what tonight meant. Either Rafe wasn’t dead…or someone knew what you did and was getting even on his behalf.
When Sarah turned the car on, the lights shined into the trees before you. You lifted your head, gaze landing in front of the car, and your lips parted. You blinked at the trees, eyes narrowing when Sarah turned on her brights, putting the car in reverse. There’d been a split moment when Sarah’s lights came on—and your gaze wasn’t lifted all the way—that you thought you saw something next to one of the trees.
It looked like a person, standing and watching, but they were gone so quickly that you knew you had to have imagined it. The discovery of Rafe’s empty grave was getting to you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It seemed farfetched that Rafe hadn’t actually been dead that night. Murder weapons and such aside, you’d buried him, and how likely was it that he’d woken up to claw his way out instead of simply suffocating and bleeding to death?
It made more sense that this was someone else’s doing, but even still…
Despite burying him yourself, you never felt like Rafe was truly gone.

With three of your friends dead, the remaining four of you were not only being watched like hawks, but also refused to barely leave each other’s sides. Despite the fact that the police still couldn’t determine if Cleo’s death was murder or an accident, the popular opinion seemed to be the former. Walking through Outer Banks as everyone’s main suspect made a place that used to feel like home unbearable.
Deep down though, some part of you felt you deserved it.
Yes, Rafe was abusive and horrible, but it wasn’t up to you to play God. It wasn’t your place to determine whether or not he deserved to live, deserved to see his family again or redeem himself or go on to be even worse. That wasn’t your call, and despite how much relief you felt when you buried Rafe that night, something in you wanted to be punished for what you’d done.
…but not like this.
You never wanted this to come back on your friends and their family. Looking in the faces of their parents and now knowing this was all directly because of you was heartbreaking. Even if it wasn’t Rafe stalking the streets of Outer Banks and picking your friends off one by one, it was clearly someone doing so for him in some weird way. This all came back to Rafe, you just knew it.
…and they were trying to mess with your head in the process.
What else would they get out of moving his remains?
Considering what happened at Sarah’s house, it came as no surprise that the next spot of choice was Kie’s. It wasn’t without difficulty, and you recalled the way both of her parents huffed and puffed as she fought to convince them. You didn’t disagree with their reasoning. After all, you didn’t need to be a genius to know they were wary of you on some level. Too many people around you had died and gone missing.
They just didn’t want the same for Kie…and you wished you’d listened.
“We could leave,” JJ said to you in one of the Carrera’s guest rooms, hand clasped with yours. “I didn’t really want to believe it before but…”
JJ heaved a sigh.
“Someone’s after us for some reason,” he relented. “…and since we have no idea who or even why… Why not just take off?”
He shrugged at you, and guilt ate at you for a whole other reason these days. After Cleo’s death—and the traumatic night in which you discovered Rafe’s grave was empty—you grappled with the thought of telling JJ the truth. He deserved to know why his friends were dead, and why he had a target on his back. You even started to one day.
…but then you thought about him knowing this was all your fault…and blaming you too. You didn’t think you had the stomach or the strength to look him in the face and tell him that your actions that night came back on half of your friends. You didn’t want to face his reaction, and so you swallowed it down.
“I would if I could,” you told him. “…but aside from just how fucking guilty that would make me and us look…my parents are here. Even if they weren’t and we left, I don’t think that would make this stop. Sarah’s here, Kie is here, and whoever is doing this clearly wants all of our heads. They’re not going to give up just because some of us leave.”
You couldn’t stomach the thought of just taking off and leaving Kie and Sarah to fend for themselves. JJ nodded at that, understanding, and you closed your eyes when he reached for your face. You placed your own hand over his, and something clenched deep in your chest. It was so unfair that the moment you and JJ finally decided to stop being cowards, someone put a bounty on your heads.
Even if you made it out of this alive, how could you ever look back on the beginning of your relationship with anything other than grief and trauma? The two of you got together because of John B.’s death and any attempt to try and heal and make something good of this was ruined by the subsequent deaths of Pope and Cleo.
“Do you think this has something to do with Rafe?”
JJ’s question gave you pause, and you pulled back, staring at him with a frown. His expression was entirely serious, telling you that you had not in fact imagined his words. When you blinked at him, you watched him run his hand through his blond locks, the fair hair still damp from his shower.
“I know you killed him,” he confessed.
Your lips parted in shock, and you fought to make sense of what was happening. Disbelieving, you pushed yourself to your feet, looking down at your boyfriend. His gaze was soft, and you watched him exhale, slowly reaching for you.
“Wha…? What do you mean you know? What are-?”
“I overheard you guys talking about it…what…? Maybe three months after it happened?”
You looked away, slowly shaking your head. When you looked at him, there was no malice or disgust in his gaze, and you felt confused.
“I never said anything because I figured you wouldn’t like anyone else knowing,” he whispered.
JJ didn’t look bothered at all, and for some reason that threw you for a loop. Once his hand was back in yours, he tugged you until you sat down with him again. He took your moment of shock to lean in and kiss you—slow and gentle, and his thumb brushed your skin as he pulled away.
“I know what you’re thinking…”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone,” you wondered, more of a statement, voicing your thoughts and confirming his assumption.
“…because Rafe was horrible to you, and not in that generic asshole boyfriend way, but…really horrible,” he told you. “The way he talked to you and treated you in public was disguising to witness, so it wasn’t hard to guess how much worse he was behind closed doors.”
You felt yourself deflating, hating that JJ had to come to grips with that terrifying truth.
“You don’t know how bad I hated him for treating you like that, how much I wanted to beg you to leave him, but you wouldn’t,” he spat, anger in his voice as he thought about the past. “You wouldn’t even come to any of us, and I just thought it wasn’t my place.”
You hadn’t realized how much of your tumultuous relationship with Rafe had been bleeding into other parts of your life almost since the beginning.
“I started to lose my mind over it, you know…just wondering if I was bad for not telling or bad for thinking about telling, but…”
He let out a humorless chuckle, pulling his lip between his teeth.
“Plenty of times I thought about killing Rafe myself, so why would I hate you for having the balls to do what I could only fantasize about?”
You held JJ’s gaze, feeling shocked but also oh so light. You felt relieved that JJ knew, and you’d no longer have to carry around this guilt, but at the same time… You hated that JJ had been carrying this around for months—almost a year. Unlike you and the girls, JJ didn’t have anyone to talk to about this, forced to carry the burden of your secret alone…and you hated that. You hated yourself for that.
Your eyes burned with tears, and you just pressed your lips to his when a blood-curdling scream made you wince.
You and JJ looked at each other for half a second before he hurried out of the room with you right behind him. The screams didn’t stop, echoing throughout the house and mixing in with harsh sobs. There was a knot twisting in your gut, a feeling of dread washing over you like a cold shower. You and JJ took the stairs almost two at a time, and when you both made it to the living room, you paused in your tracks.
Kie had her hands over her mouth, but it was useless—she couldn’t stop screaming and crying. Sarah stood by the couch, frozen in shock, and you didn’t miss what her wide and stricken eyes were focused on. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera were sitting on the couch, facing the blasting TV as they had been for God knows how long. However, something about their posture was off, and when you slowly brushed by JJ to join Sarah…you realized why.
Blood covered the entire front of them both, eyes open and unseeing, mouths open in mid-scream.
Their throats were slit.
Before the horror of what this meant could even settle in, the power in the house went out, bathing you in darkness. The lights from the neighbors and the street were not enough, and you heard Sarah telling Kie to get up. JJ’s hand was on your arm as he pulled you along too, all four of you heading for the door.
Sarah only just opened it when you heard her let out a choked gasp.
She was still, and you worriedly eyed her.
“Sarah?” JJ called her name. “Sarah, what’s…?”
He trailed off, his words dying in the air as Sarah stumbled back. She fell against Kie, and the other girl fought to catch her as the blonde reached up towards her chest. With what little light you had, your eyes focused on what she was gesturing to. Your entire vision swayed once you saw the knife protruding from it.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, and JJ yanked you back away from the door.
You in turn yanked Kie who was forced to let Sarah go. The sound of her body dropping made you wince. Unable to stay with her, the three of you now headed towards the back door. Behind you, you could hear the front door slamming shut, and the sound of it had bile rising in your throat.
The house was still dark, and besides your own heavy breathing, you heard the sound of footsteps coming from the living room. You were the first to make it to the door, hand on the knob when you heard the last thing you ever expected for some reason. The glass in front of you shattered, but your ears were ringing from the gunshot more than anything.
“Fuck,” you heard JJ curse, and you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you to the side.
You didn’t realize why until you looked back.
Kie was in a heap at the foot of the door, her blood decorating the remaining glass in the window and the floor too. She was completely still, and the knowledge that two more of your friends were dead within just minutes of each other had you ready to faint. Despite that, with JJ’s help, you were able to keep your feet moving.
He pulled you into the hallway that connected to the kitchen, and on the other side of the wall, you could hear the slow and heavy footsteps. When the crunch of glass was heard, JJ pulled you further along towards the kitchen—towards the front of the house. You were shaking as you slid along the wall, and when the footsteps stopped, so did JJ.
You both were completely still as you waited and listened. Both of your phones were upstairs in the guest room, but you recalled Sarah reaching for hers when she opened the door. It had to still be near her, provided that whoever was in the house hadn’t taken it. JJ seemed to have the same idea as you, because he slowly moved through the kitchen and towards the front door.
A gunshot stopped his efforts.
“Go, go,” JJ hissed, pushing you away from him so harshly that you stumbled and fell back.
You were half in the kitchen half in the hallway when a figure approached the blond who was now also on the floor, clutching his side. You frantically crawled back, vision blurring from your tears just as they stood over him. Your back was pressed to the wall, staring at the one before you with quiet sobs when you heard it.
JJ’s gasps were loud and pained as he was attacked. One, two…seventeen, you counted. You thought to yourself how angry and evil someone has to be to stab someone else seventeen times. You kept your hand pressed to your mouth the entire time, fighting the urge to be sick. When you could no longer hear JJ, you squeezed your eyes shut.
A defeated feeling washed over you, and it was the feeling of being utterly alone.
You could hear those terrifying footsteps again, and when it sounded like they were coming near you from the other side, you sprinted for the door.
Refusing to look at the bodies of your friends, you fought to run across the street. The neighbor’s lights were on, and your legs burned as you pushed yourself as fast as you could. You refused to look back—too scared to—and you practically collapsed at their door as you banged on it. Some of Kie’s blood was on you, and it marred the door as you repeatedly hit it like a woman possessed.
“Open the door, please, please,” you screamed, looking over your shoulder.
You couldn’t see anyone, but you weren’t fooled. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing on this stranger’s porch. You were beating their door so hard that your fists were beginning to ache, and your throat scratched from your screams—strained and raw. When the door finally swung open, you quite literally fell inside.
“What in the world-? Oh my goodness,” a small voice said from over you.
Small and brittle hands helped you to your feet, and you felt bad at almost knocking her over in your efforts to make sure no one was behind you. You slammed the door shut and locked it, chest heaving and feeling much too tight. You were sure that you were almost on the verge of a heart attack. You had to be.
“Sweetheart,” the old lady called. “Call the police!”
She took your hands, guiding you to the kitchen where she grabbed a rag.
“He killed them,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. “My friends are dead.”
The words didn’t even sound real to you, like some nightmare you’d conjured up, but they were real. Your friends had been picked off one by one for weeks before the rest were finally taken from you in one night. You were alone, and that fact made you cry harder.
“The phone’s not working,” you heard another aged voice say.
You froze at that, looking up just as the woman wobbled to the kitchen entrance.
“What?” you breathed.
“What do you mean it’s not working?” she tutted, and you were quick to follow behind her.
She met up with a man who you assumed was her husband in the hallway, and he did a double take at the sight of you.
“Good lord,” he breathed. “What happened?”
“Never mind that,” she dismissed him, making her way past him. “My granddaughter bought me one of those smart phones, but I hardly ever use the thing. We’ll find that and then we’ll call the police, sweetheart.”
You didn’t want to let her out of your sight, terrified of being alone, but the elderly man reminded you of his presence. He guided you back into the kitchen with a strained but kind smile. You could tell that your presence worried him. You were in his house in the middle of the night covered in blood, after all.
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble when he handed you the damp rag.
The feel of Kie’s blood on you was both comforting and horrifying. Your friend wasn’t with you, but this small part of her was, but at the same time, it only reminded you of her gruesome and tragic death. The woman came back through the hallway, joining her husband in the living room, and you heard her mumbling something about hoping the cops would come quick when there was a knock on the door.
The sound of it made your stomach drop, and you stood in the kitchen, rag tight in your hand. What were the chances they’d be getting some friendly visit at this time of night? Right after all your friends were brutally murdered, and you were forced to seek refuge at this very house?
You’d only taken one step forward when you heard the door open, followed by a startled gasp. It happened quick, too quick for you to even process, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the woman’s husband yelping too, a loud thud reaching your ears. Before today, you didn’t know what it sounded like to stab someone or cut their throat. You stumbled back, eyes wide and heart so loud in your ears that it was all you could hear for a moment.
You felt so cold, and you had the shivers to prove it, and slowly but surely…you reached for the knife in the sink.
The house was so quiet, and you didn’t hear a single breath or footstep. Taking a hesitant step forward, you held the knife out in front of you, briefly squeezing your eyes shut. Stepping into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see the bodies of the poor couple who’d just tried to help you. Blood stretched from beneath them like a stream. You pressed your free hand to your mouth, swallowing down a sob.
You were surprised, however, to see an empty living room.
Your brain was completely empty, feeling like you were short-circuiting. You were being toyed with, that much was obvious, and your lips trembled as you slowly spun, fighting to see any sign of your tormentor. Slowly kneeling, you looked for the woman’s cellphone, and you had to swallow down a curse when you realized it was gone.
You stood in the living room, feeling like you were losing your mind with no idea of what to do next. You could run back across the street to Kie’s where you knew a phone was…or you could try another neighbor. A last resort of an option flitted through your mind, anger briefly filling you as you considered simply killing the person who did this.
The front porch creaked, and your gaze zeroed in on the door.
Backing up, you moved further into the house and further away from the door. You glanced over your shoulder, arm grazing the wall as you hid in the hallway. You could hear the door opening just as you disappeared around the corner, and as you slowly and quietly moved about the back of the house, you wanted to cry with the realization that they had no back door.
The house was so modest and quaint that you hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Tears of frustration and fear skipped down your face just as the upbeat tune of a whistle reached your ears. You didn’t know why, but something about it made you so angry. You were being played with, like a damn mouse in the grasp of some cat. How this person could snuff out life like it was nothing and be so giddy about it, you didn’t know. It disgusted you.
…and so the knife was tight in your hand as you stomped back towards the living room.
There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to die tonight, and you’d rather it be fighting and on your terms. The lifeless faces of your friends were all that plagued your thoughts, one after the other being taken from you so easily. As if they were nothing. You thought you were prepared for the person you’d grown to hate most in the world.
…but you weren’t prepared for the sight of Barry sprawled along the couch without a care in the world.
You actually came up short, stopping in your tracks in both shock and disbelief. You felt your lips part, and your hold on the knife wasn’t so firm, now, almost dropping it. A myriad of emotions hit you at once, none of them good, but the loudest and most prominent was…confusion.
You barely knew Barry, really only in passing. The only time you ever saw him was when you happened to be in Rafe’s truck when he needed to make some exchange, the dark-haired man always giving you a mockingly prissy wave. You never talked to him outside of pleasantries, and quite frankly you hated being around him. Somehow, he always managed to bring out the worst in Rafe, egging on any of Rafe’s disgusting behaviors.
He never called you by your name, it was always—
“Mrs. Country Club,” he drawled, that familiar cheeky half grin on his lips.
The gold in his mouth winked at you as you just stood there, and your stomach turned.
“Barry?” you breathed, and he simply raised his hands as if to say ‘the one and only’. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He raised his brows at that, pursing his lips together to fight off a smirk. You looked around, trying to make sense of this before taking a shaky breath.
“Why?” you spat, gaze meeting his unreadable one. “I don’t understand…”
Your words died in your throat, getting choked up.
“Why?”
He played with his hair, a look of confusion on his face.
“Why what…?”
“You’re not funny,” you sneered. “You’re not. Why? Why? Why?”
You screamed the last one, face wet with tears, and all the while he simply…smirked at you.
“How about this… I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” he proposed, gesturing between you. “Did you feel bad when you dumped your boyfriend in the woods?”
His question made so much click, and you sighed, eyes briefly closing.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
Somehow, someway, Topper and Kelce were like brothers to Rafe despite their differences, but Barry? You always hated how your ex-boyfriend managed to find a camaraderie in the dangerous drug dealer, both of them cut from the same psycho cloth. Only Barry could never go to the lengths Rafe did. At least, that was what you always thought…
The laugh that left you seemed to surprise both of you, and he blinked, brows raising again as he just…looked at you.
“That’s what this is about?” you breathed, voice shaking from anger and grief and disgust. “Revenge because I killed your bestie?”
Your tone was mocking, and all the while, Barry just stared at you.
“I guess psycho little rich boys must be hard to come by,” you spat. “Forgive me. Had I known you were going to take it so hard, I would’ve tried to make it look like some tragic accident instead.”
Again, he said nothing at all, and you recalled he’d asked you a question.
“…but to answer your question, no. I didn’t.”
The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at that, smirk growing.
“Rafe treated me like his property, like he could do whatever he wanted to me…and best believe…he took full advantage,” you forced out. “That night it was him or me…and I chose me.”
The other man jutted his lip out a bit, nodding in a way that suggested he was almost impressed. You looked at the bodies of the poor couple who’d gotten caught up in your shit, and you wiped your face, more tears spilling over. You adjusted the knife in your hand, staring him down.
“So, are you going to try and kill me or what?”
He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at you.
“That’s what this whole thing has been about, right?” you threw your arms up. “Tormenting me, driving me crazy, taking my friends from me and saving me for last so I knew what was coming, right?”
His silence actually angered you, now, and you roughly exhaled through your nose.
“What are you waiting for?” you brokenly questioned, startled by the sound of his chuckle.
It was genuine.
“I am offended,” he laughed, hands grazing his chest as he sat up straight. “Do I seem like a bloodthirsty murderer to you? Come on, now, Mrs. Country Club. You know that’s not my style.”
His words confused you.
“Truthfully,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his lips. “I’m just here for the show.”
You were so startled by the tight grip on your wrist that you dropped the knife, your lifeline clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Another knife—a bigger one—was at your throat, and you sharply inhaled at the feel of cool metal to your skin. In your attempt to get away from the blade, you pressed yourself further into the chest at your back. His hand on your wrist briefly tightened, so bad that you cried out in pain, but the tears that poured over had nothing to do with that.
You heard his deep breaths, and it wasn’t because his lips were at your ear, but because you’d stopped breathing. You couldn’t feel your heart, an icy emptiness in your chest where it was supposed to be, and the noise that finally left your lips was a cross between a gasp and a cry. The knife at your throat pressed harder into your skin, feeling a slight sting there, but it was nothing in comparison to the feel of his face pressing into the area where your neck and shoulder met.
He deeply inhaled, and a shudder passed through you.
“Word of advice…”
You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice, hoping for anything other than what you accepted as the truth.
“…if you’re going to bury someone,” his lips were at your ear again, and his tone was chilling. “Make sure they’re actually dead.”
A sob finally escaped, and your tearful eyes rested on the ceiling.
“Unlike you, I don’t make that mistake.”
Revulsion filled you, and you were certain that now you really were going to be sick.
“When I set out to kill someone, I get the job done,” he purred, a kiss to your neck. “…but you know that better than anyone, baby.”
You couldn’t even describe the feeling of being in Rafe’s arms again. There was too much going on within you to pinpoint one feeling, but above all else, you knew that you felt fear. Not once had you ever been able to actually heal from Rafe’s abuse. He was the thing you feared most in the world…and then you killed him.
That wasn’t healing.
That was just getting rid of the problem, but the fear and inferiority complex and damage still remained. You were happier with him gone, and you’d mistakenly took that for healing, but now that he was back… Now that Rafe was alive and well and a thousand times worse than you knew him to be, all of that came back, and you couldn’t stop crying.
“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”
It was so hard to breathe, and you couldn’t answer Rafe’s question even if you wanted to.
“Nothing to say about how you hit me upside the head and buried me in the woods like a fucking dog?”
He shook you as he said this, and you cried out. Evidently, that made him angrier, and you soon found yourself thrown to the floor. Your legs landed in blood, and your attempt to crawl away was halted by Rafe’s hand in your hair. He yanked you back until you were on your knees, and when you reached up, his other hand had the knife at your throat.
“Oh, wait, that’s right. What was it you said? It came down to you…or me…?” he chuckled, purposefully nicking your neck. “…and you chose you…right?”
He shoved you again, and you struggled to get to the wall, leaning against it and finally facing him.
It actually hurt you to see that he was just as beautiful as the day you buried him. Of course, he was sober, now, but what did that count for when he also had half a dozen literal bodies under his belt now? Blood stained his shirt, so much of it, and you wondered how much of it belonged to your friends. Your lips trembled as he pushed his hair out of his face, his other hand still holding the bloody knife.
“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he suddenly said although he didn’t sound sorry, at all.
Your face crumbled, and he chuckled.
“It wasn’t my intention for him to go like that, but…” he wiped blood off of his forehead. “I couldn’t quite get the image of him on top of you out of my head.”
Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in shock as you recalled the day you told yourself you were imagining things.
“Truthfully, Sarah was supposed to be last,” he casually said, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. “My own fucking sister.”
He scoffed, and something passed through his gaze that told you he was genuinely hurt about Sarah’s so-called betrayal. His blue eyes rested on you, and you were suddenly thinking about the last time you stared into them…when he had his hands around your throat, choking the life out of you. Rafe seemed to be thinking about that night too, and you watched his gaze briefly fall to the floor, sniffing.
“I gotta admit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
He looked into your eyes again, and you realized that you hadn’t stopped crying once since he revealed himself to you. Your gaze briefly landed on Barry who was still on the couch, watching the whole ordeal like this was some tv show instead of real fucking life.
“Rafe…” you choked out.
“…but I can promise you,” the blond sneered, pointing the knife at you. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
You closed your eyes, fresh tears falling, and you struggled to swallow.
“Just get it over with already,” you breathed, so tired and…defeated. “Just kill me.”
When you opened your eyes, Rafe looked genuinely amused at the words that left your mouth. You weren’t surprised when he chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder at Barry, still laughing.
“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Your confusion must have been evident because he laughed again. Rafe stepped towards you until your eyes were level with his crotch, and you hated the way he looked down at you, like you were this helpless and hapless thing that he was just going to have so much fun with. When he slowly knelt before you, you flinched as he lifted his hand, the end of the knife lightly grazing your cheek before it trailed down your neck. Rafe’s blue gaze followed the descent, tongue darting out between his lips.
“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”
His almost inaudible words were loud and clear to you though, and you felt like you’d been shot.
“I won’t lie,” he said, staring at your collarbone. “I thought about. It was the first thing on my mind when Barry pulled me out of that grave you put me in.”
You swallowed when his gaze snapped to yours.
“I wanted to gut you like those fish my dad are always reeling in,” he spat. “I wanted to cut you open.”
You shook your head, letting it fall as you cried.
“…but this seemed soo much better,” he breathed, voice shaky, and you knew it wasn’t from fear nor anger.
Rafe was excited.
“…because you know what’s so much better than murdering all of your friends and forcing you to live with the fact that their deaths are on your hands? Hmm?”
He reached up, lightly grazing your lips with his fingers.
“Do you know what’s better than that?”
His hand tightened around your chin, and knowing him like the back of your hand, you knew he actually wanted an answer.
“No,” you muttered.
Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss as he whispered his response.
“Having you all to myself.”
You didn’t have time to resist before Rafe was yanking you up by your hair, quite literally dragging you through this stranger’s house. Your feet tripped over one another, and several times you almost fell. Rafe finally wrapped an arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold as he forced you down the hall. The moment you tried to scream, his hand was there, forcing it down, and when he tossed you into the bedroom, your forehead hit the leg of the bed.
You heard him whistle.
“The old geezers have taste,” he praised. “…bet this is where that granddaughter of theirs sleeps when she comes to visit.”
You were a sobbing mess, just barely pushing yourself to your knees when Rafe tackled you onto your back. Not unfamiliar with this predicament, you fought against him, hitting him and scratching at his face. Any resistance was met with a genuine laugh, and when Rafe had both of your wrists pinned down beside your head, he tilted his own at you.
“You already killed me, baby,” he breathed. “What more could you do to me?”
The scream you let out was filled with equal pain and frustration, kicking out when he sank his teeth into your chest. It was done with the full intent to hurt, and he succeeded, pain blooming beneath your skin as he tore at your shirt.
Becoming reacquainted with his knife, you tried to scoot back as he sliced through your pants with it, pulling the jeans off of you in tatters. Fearful of the weapon in his hand, you tried to push at his arm, but when his free hand wrapped around your throat, effectively pinning you down, the knife found its way to your stomach.
You breath hitched as you froze.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rafe hummed. “I might just…slip.”
You yelped at the sharp feeling along your stomach, and the burn you felt told you there was a cut there. He didn’t let go of the knife as he undressed himself with his other hand, and when he reached for your bra, the blade was pressed to your throat the entire time. You couldn’t stop shaking even if you wanted to, and Rafe made a show of taking his time as he settled between your legs.
“I hope you know how much planning went into this…”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“…and I hope you know that this was all that kept me going.”
When he pushed into you, you gasped in both pain and shock. You hadn’t been with Rafe—with anyone—in a year, and you struggled to adjust. Fresh tears escaped, and when Rafe’s bloody hand gripped your jaw, he turned your head to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle, nothing at all like the rough thrusts he started to give you.
Your back rubbed against the floor as he fucked you, and your crying was drowned out by the sound of his deep moans. Rafe sounded like he was in heaven while you felt like you were in hell. The feel of his cock pushing into you made your mind shrivel with disgust, but your body responded exactly how he wanted.
“I missed you,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”
You sobbed louder, hating the way his thrusts became smoother, now. Your body greedily sucked him in with every push of his hips, and as his hands ran over you, all you could think about were these same hands killing your friends. These same hands that had done so much damage to your life even before that fateful night last year.
With a tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, Rafe forced your head back, and he took his time grazing his teeth along your skin. You could still feel the cool blade of the knife on your skin whenever he moved his other hand. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed like every nightmare you’d had about Rafe had come true…only multiplied by one hundred.
He pressed a hand into your stomach, holding himself up that way while the other hand pressed the knife to your throat. A fresh bout of sobs escaped, and you swore that Rafe actually smiled. You were proven right when he laughed, a deep and raspy chuckle that made your hair stand on end.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “…being so weak and at the mercy of someone else?”
It was sick how Rafe didn’t seem to realize that you knew this feeling long before today. Countless days filled with fear and yelling and manhandling plagued your mind, and the knowledge that Rafe had no intention of ending your suffering was enough to make you go numb.
As if sensing that, Rafe pressed the blade into your throat.
Your gasped turned into cries as you reached up.
“Uh uh,” he panted. “None of that. You are going to lie here…and you’re going to think about what you did to me.”
You gripped his wrist, eyes pleading. Rafe leaned in, nose pressed to yours with a knife pressed to your throat and a hand pressed to your stomach.
“You’re going to lie here, and take my cock, and thank God that I decided to spare your life.”
A particular hard thrust made you gasp.
“Every day, for as long as you live, I want you to think about your friends and remember that they are dead because of you…”
You closed your eyes, and Rafe dug the knife into your throat.
“Open your fucking eyes,” he breathed, continuing when you obeyed. “They are dead because you failed to kill me, and every time I come inside of you, you should take it with nothing less than gratitude.”
He kissed you then, roughly and lacking of any kind of love. It was purely done for show, to exert his power over you and remind you that you belonged to him. You tried to turn your head, and in doing so, you caught sight of Barry leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. The sight made you turn your head away, sobbing beneath Rafe.
“…because never forget that I wanted to cut you open,” he whispered in your ear, grinding his hips against yours and forcing a choked moan from your lips. “…but where is the fun in killing you when this is so much better.”
Drabble for Beefy!Boyfriend

⛈️ bucky barnes x fem!girlfriend reader ⛈️
summary: “come here doll, you’re safe with me”
mentions: +18 smut warning minors look away, soft!beefy!boyfriend Bucky, thunderstorm, unprotected sex, kissing, feels (that’s just me ik) pet names, size kink etc.
link to new masterlist here! 💕💖💞

“I’m scared!” You clutched to your boyfriend hiding your face in his chest. You wrapped yourself around him like a blanket making him grunt softly.
“Doll.. it’s a storm..” he whispers kissing your forehead tenderly tangling his metal fingers in your hair. You sob, as the terror strikes again making the room light up. You clutch yourself even closer to him.
“I’m sorry! It’s just.. I’m so scared Bucky..” you whimper as his big hand start to caress your spine rubbing up and down your back trying to calm you. His lips caress your ear as he whispers soft things to you.
“My sweet baby, my doll..” your tears stop. The heavy rain makes a song against the windows in your bedroom and he soothes you gently. Bucky has been so protective of you from the beginning of your relationship even though he was on the run right now.. you believed that he’s the one for you. You were willing to wait for him
“Bucky I love you..” you press your lips to where his shoulder and neck connects making him smile. “And I love you doll, very much” his mouth is kissing yours in a passionate way and soon your tongues dance. The way your body rubbed against his, your gentle touches made him feel things. Things like lust, desire and pleasure. The friction of your clothed pussy on his clothed growing erection made his cheeks flush red with need for you. You were going to miss him so much.. his body, his lips, his love, his care. Everything… if he wouldn’t have to go away so soon. You wanted him so much.. so deeply in you to feel him love you.
“Ugh..” he huffs rolling on top of you making you gasp softly. The man unbuttoned your top to reveal your breasts. “So fucking beautiful all mine..” he hums in appreciation licking your hardened peaks. Closing your eyes you shudder with tingles all over your body. The heat pulsing between your legs.
“Bucky.. please..” you whimper again, his metal fingers gracefully dancing on your heat through your panties. “Fuck.. alright baby..” flipping you on your stomach your butt stays in the air for him. Ripping off your panties, and soon he’s lining his hard cock with your entrance then sinking in so easily. God he’s so big, your toes curl. Your hands grab on the pillows feeling him filling you up. “Ohhhh shit..” you whine, Buck groans with satisfaction and slumps down on top of you from behind. His weight is a comfort. His beefy arms slide underneath as you tremble creaming his cock already. “This sweet cunt is mine.. mine.. all mine doll..” you nod blinking away tears. Long locks of his hair fall into his face as he starts to fuck you. His grunts and soft moans, only make you sob harder melting underneath him he’s splitting you in half. The waves of pleasure soon hits you and Bucky is chasing his high moaning under his breath grabbing you hip with his metal fingers slapping his heavy balls against your dripping wet core which is the additional pleasure. He finds his climax shortly after you pumping you full of his precious cum. “Fuck!” He whines and thrusts into you with more force to breed you for the final time. You feel it all, the amount of cum leaking out of your tight hole. As he rolls off you breathless not wasting anymore time he gently tugs you towards his heaving chest. “Come here doll.. you’re safe with me.”
And the thunder calms… but not in your heart.
-
Thank you so much for reading! Don’t forget to like & reblog if you enjoyed reading this! 💕💞
tags for fun: @sergeantbarnessdoll & @nicoline1998enilocin 💕💖💞💓💗💘

you feel me in your stomach, angel?
THIS IS NOT NO FREE USE SHIT YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK
pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: you lie tell everyone Rafe has a small dick and he is not happy about it
warnings: adult content, public sex, unprotected sex, mentions of Rafe having a ginormous cock, dom!Rafe and unedited work
gif credit @starkey-babie

You sat in a circle in a disgustingly childish game of Truth Or Dare. Rafe watched you from across the circle as you took a sip of your drink, He had already scolded you twice for being a brat but frankly you didn't give a damn
"Y/N" you looked towards Kelce's Girlfriend Hailey "Truth Or Dare?" You sat up straight rolling your shoulders back "Truth"
"How big is Rafe's dick" one of the other girls blurted out causing the other girls to erupted in giggles and Rafe seemed to stare at you silently telling you not to answer the question not because he thought he had a small dick but rather you were a little too drunk and you might say something ✨controversial✨
"It's pretty small if you ask me"
Rafe choked on his drink as everyone silenced in shock at your answer but you stared at Rafe with a smirk. That was the last fucking thing he expected you to say.
Topper cleared his throat "I think that's enough for today" he began to sit up "Yeah" Rafe said standing up grabbing you "What the fuck Rafe I don't wanna leave?" He didn't care about your protests as he practically carried you out of the party before pushing you infront of him "Always fucking play too much" he mumbled more to himself.
"It was just a game" you said crossing your arms over your chest your heels clicking on the concrete as you walked towards the car "Shut up" you rolled your eyes "Always so fucking bossy" you mumbled and he pushed you up against the side of the car "What the fuck did you say?"
You smirk "You heard me" his hand gripped your chin roughly "You've been acting like a damn brat all fucking day"
"Did I hurt your ego baby?" You said teasing and he let out a growl "Get in the car"
"No" he grabbed you by your arms practically tossing you in the car buckling you in before climbing in the the other side.
The car ride was silent, his nails digging into the steering wheel, his heavy breaths filling the small car.
He pulled up to the home reaching over and unbuckle you like he usually did "Get inside" he said voice eerily calm "I want you in the room on the bed naked" he told you "You're a fucking dick" you whined crossing your arms and getting out the car. He let out a growl getting out the car and grabbing you before you could step away from him "Don't you fucking forget who the boss is here"
"Yeah me asshole" you growled but it quickly turned into a gasp bending you over the hood of the car. Your breasts pressed up to it and your hands holding you up a bit.
"What the hell are you doing?" You squealed out when he pressed his hips against you "Showing you how big my fucking dick is" you couldn't help the moan that slipped from your lips when he grinded against you "We're outside" you gasped out and he chuckled.
"That's never stopped you before" he said in your ear bringing up the many times you've sucked him off in your driveway but that wasn't the point.
"Tell me if you want me to stop" he whispered in your ear before his hand ran over your ass. Truth was you didn't, you were practically soaked when the idea of someone seeing you crossed your mind. "Gonna fuck you so hard, make sure the whole neighborhood hears"
He pushed up your skirt "No panties, you little whore" he slapped your ass roughly causing you to let out a squeak the stinging pain making you wetter.
He bit his lip, his hand running over your ass before pulling his cock out of his jeans. He brought a hand up to your lips "Spit" he told you, you followed his orders spitting on his thick fingers before he brought his hands back to him rubbing your saliva on his hard cock.
He kicked your legs open, his cock slid through your folds before he slapped the head against your clit. You bit your lip when he shoved the head cock inside you but he made no move to give you the rest of him. "Rafeeeee" you whined "I thought I had a small cock baby"
You let out a loud whine "I was playing" you huffed "I swear" you opened your mouth to speak more but he was shoving himself inside you causing to let out a scream but he was quick to shove two fingers inside your mouth. "What's the matter? if its so fucking small you should be able to take it all"
You whined against his fingers
Rafe pounded into you roughly your nails digging into the paint of the hood. He was so deep inside you he had to be in your guts. To tell the truth Rafe had a very very large cock and he hit all the spots inside you that no one ever could.
His fingers tangled in your hair yanking you up against his chest. He pulled your head back a little to look at him.
"Small cock huh? Is that why you've got tears in your eyes?" It wasn't like you could answer with his fingers in your mouth but he was still smirking when you whimpered against his fingers. "I bet you feel me in your stomach, you feel me in your stomach angel?" He asked his hips moving faster causing your eyes to shut "No no princess you better fucking look at me"
He pulled at the ends of your hair causing you to open them back to look at him. His hand reached around you to slide his hand under the front of your dress running over the bulge in your stomach from his cock. His ring was cold against your stomach as he let out a dark chuckle "Look at me all in your stomach, you sure I have a small cock?" He pulled his fingers from your lips and you gasped for air, the feeling of him hitting every spor inside you getting way too much for you.
"T-t-too much" you gasped out and he shook his head with a chuckle "If it's so small baby take it" you were gasping between your moans and whimpers and suddenly you didn't care if the neighbors heard or saw.
He tilted your head back spitting in your mouth and you swallowed it quickly. The hand that was on your stomach moved down to your clit rubbing it fast "Squeezing around me so tight" he chuckled "Beg for it, beg to cum" you could hardly form words to answer him causing his hips to slow. You let out a whine "Beg" he growled
"Please Rafe, Please let me cum" his hips sped up a little but not enough to give you the orgasm you so desperately needed "Tell me I have a big dick" you would have rolled your eyes at him in any of other situations but right now he could tell you to say anything and you would say it. "You have a big dick Rafe, it's so fucking big"
"Tell me I've ruined you for anybody else"
"You've ruined me for anybody else Rafey"
"Whose pussy is this angel?" He growled his hips moving unbelievably fast "Y-yours" he chuckled darkly rubbing your clit at a rapid pace "I want you to cum for me angel" he slapped your clit the pain only adding to the pleasure.
A loud scream tore through your throat and your eyes rolled back as you came around his cock. You tried to control your breathing but he was still moving inside you chasing his own orgasm.
He groaned his nails digging into your hips as his cum filled you up. You let out heavy breaths and he pulled your skirt down after he pulled out of you. His arm wrapped around your waist to hold you up.
"That was fuckinh amazing baby" he tilted your head back to kiss your forehead. You smiled tiredly "You're gonna tell everyone I have a big dick tomorrow right?" You let out a scoff shaking your head "Hell no" you giggles leaning your head back against his chest.
"Do you think you can walk?" You shook your head and he chuckled picking you up bridal style "Is everything okay!?"
Ms. Smith the old woman next door came out looking at you "We're fine"
"I heard screaming and groans" the old woman said eyes scanning over the two of you "I don't know what it could've been we just got hear" Rafe lied
"Oh well, I'll notify the neighborhood watch. I think there's something funny going on" you let out a chuckle "Okay Mrs. Smith goodnight" you waved at the old woman as Rafe carried you towards the house.
"We're not actually gonna let her tell the whole neighborhood she heard moaning and screaming right?"
"Uh yeah we are"
A/N: PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE MAMA NEEDS YOUR VALIDATION AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST