ur the twst mc but ur dead

hashtag blocked

a/n: hi

i have nothing to say for myself

except that i've been putting this off bc college + ive been so obsessed with my little catholic boy rollo

also not super action heavy but i do try to keep the plot chugging along.

and hey, it's been exactly ONE FULL YEAR since i published the first chapter of this book. hooray!! until later bozos👍 

"Hey, the Headmaster wants to talk to us today about something. He asked us to see him after class, or whenever we have time."

Ah. What a lovely way to start the day.

You and Ace had been holed up in the library in the early hours of the morning, pouring over Ace's books as he scrambled to finish his assignment—because, in the usual Ace fashion, he'd decided that he would start his work the day it was due instead of during the week he had to get it all done. You'd be impressed by his writing speed if it wasn't completely illegible—if he didn't get points taken off for getting most, if not all of it wrong, he certainly would because none of it was close to readable.

Ace looks up from where he'd been poking holes into the edge of his homework with his quill, raising an eyebrow. "Huh? What for? Did you do something to piss him off?"

"I—" Deuce stops to look offended, crossing his arms. "I'm actually trying to be a good student, Ace. If anything, you'd  be the one he'd be asking about. I could go back and tell him all about how you cheated on that last quiz with—"

"Okay, okay! Alright!" Ace holds his hands up in defense, glaring at the little smirk Deuce is giving him. "...What does he even want us for?"

Deuce sits down next to Ace and the cold patch of air that's you, sighing as he tosses his bag onto the table. "He just wanted to talk about what happened with Riddle 'n all. I don't really know what he wants with us, but we were the ones that kinda...y'know. Kickstarted the whole thing with him. You more than me, but—" He stops at the fierce glower Ace gives him before pointing at him accusingly. "I'm not above snitching. I'll do it, I swear to God."

"You're an ass."

"Says you."

"Okay," you say, cutting off their conversation before it could turn into an argument. "Was there anything else that Crowley called you in for, or was that it?"

"If there was anything else, he didn't tell me. You know how he, uh, how he can be."

You sigh. Oh yes, you most definitely can. You may have only spent under a year around the man, but you'd spent nearly a decade watching him and you have grown used to just how utterly him he can be—in the worst way possible. He's selfish. Arrogant. Willfully oblivious to the problems going on in his school, and responsible enough to even let a student die on his watch. Whenever you think about how he shoved your belongings to the back of a supply closet barely a month after you'd been presumed dead, you can feel something burning at your very core; the phantom energy of your rage heating within you at the remembrance of how easily he tossed you and the remains of your life aside.