[LONG A/N: You guys asked for it so you guys got it, I don’t love it as much as the first part but this is as good as its gonna get cause I’ve wrote it and rewrote and then rewrote it again and then went to the SBC and asked them all about it (thanks @kingpendleton u my boo). So without further ado, here ya go bbs.
Also sorry if you wanted to be tagged in this but didn’t, I had a lot of people requesting to be tagged and now because tags aren’t really working well plus the amount of you asking is just a super crazy amount I’m going to stop adding new people to the list - honestly I totally appreciate and love your guys support but I feel like its a bit pointless when I know tagging isn’t directing anyone to my work and you’ve still just got to scroll through my blog to get to the specific fic. In light of this though I am going to seriously update my masterlist so finding my work shouldn’t be difficult and I will reblog it daily so people can stay up to date!]
The inky-haired teen quickly began to raise himself from the
booth, he slammed shut his laptop and gathered it together with the papers that
lay scattered across the table. He brought his knees up to his chest in a bid
to jump over the back of the booth before a looming hand grappled his shoulder
‘Oh no you don’t
buddy.’ Archie Andrews booming voice called out.
‘Let go of my shoulder
Arch.’ Jughead replied sternly. ‘This is something that isn’t up for
“If you’d’ve shown up three minutes earlier, I wouldn’t’ve gotten shanked n’ your shoes wouldn’t have gotten ruined.”
She gestured at him with the bloody machete in her hand, then turned away from him. She seemed to be in a bad mood for some reason; it may have had something to do with the blood blossoming on her back. She stepped over what remained of the v a m p i r e corpse by her feet and picked up a bottle from the shattered counter, pulling the cork out with her teeth.
“What took you so long? Usually you’re gaggin’ for a simple job like this.” She downed a mouthful of whatever was in the bottle, then frowned. “…I’ve had better.”
‘would you rather me kill the brat?’ comes a sharp snap, brows knit with an anger rarely shown to the world. who would have guessed that alistair would be the first to see it burn under the skin, ‘what else was i suppose to do when you’re all YELLING at me, alistair? NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING,’ teeth grit — he never wanted this. he never wanted the weight of all this, ‘why am i the one making all the decisions is all the decisions i make are apparently WRONG?! who knows how many people would have died because that THING got bored while we were moseying off to the circle!’