Dead Man's Arms [Jughead//Malachi]

INTRO

Hello there lovelies!! Thank you guys so so much for checking out my little project  :D But, before you continue reading, I just wanted to make you aware of what exactly to expect.

First of all, the rating is MATURE for a reason. There will be smut in the very first chapter. If that's just not your cup of tea, it will be written in bold, so you should be able to skip it fairly quickly :>

Second of all, the book will be dealing with heavy topics such as gang violence, unhealthy relationships, addiction, etc.

Ikr? Gangs doing gang activities. Shocker ;)

But yeah!! I hope you'll enjoy my story :D I thrive under feedback. So if you like this, please tell me so. Weather its a key smash or an essay, I will be reading every single comment, as every reader is important to me, therefore so is their opinion.

But without further adu! I'll let you guys to lecture. Have a good one!

XoXo- Cass

[--------------------]

Its true
Oh lord,
You got more bones
than a graveyard,

- Bishop Riggs, Dead Man's Arms

JUGHEAD 

The town of Riverdale was peaceful. Deceivingly harmonious in the light.

Tidy, civilized. A glamorous assortment of artificial beauty, with inhabitants to match. 

But Riverdale was not kind to its children.

Nightfall was the time of secrets, of shady affairs, masks dropping to the floor and shattering the picture-perfect portrait confined by the broken frame keeping it together. 

Where they went, what they did, if they walked on their own, or if the shadow of unwanted companion joined their unsuspecting walks, wasn’t a matter to fuss over.

With the condition that it didn’t follow them home or became the scandalous topic of gossipy mouths in half the town, any activity, and any sin was affordable. 

The parents don’t have much regard for their children. Not until one of them winds up with a bullet in their foreheads. 

For some kids, it was a blessing; Without anyone breathing down their necks, they could be as as young and free and wild as they pleased. 

For others, the line between neglect and free-reign was thinning by the day, to the point where they picked being phantoms in the streets instead of phantoms domesticated. 

Especially kids like Jughead Jones.
Homelessness came with a lengthy list of challenges, all of them hard, and cruel, and ruthless.

But the main existing advantage was independence.

The year he spent roaming the streets, abandoned buildings, the chilly walls of Riverdale High, was structured by solitude. The kind he trained himself to get used to. It’s funny, how fast people adapt.

No arguments, no rules, no family. No problem. Loneliness, though, struck deepest at night.

On some days, while cruising the shaky course line of life, when the world got too loud and too much and too heavy, Jughead forced his eyes closed.