Work Text:
TARGET: DEUCE SPADE
> SECOND YEAR AT NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE
> VICE HOUSEWARDEN OF HEARTSLABYUL, SERVING UNDER CURRENT HOUSEWARDEN RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
For a Night Raven student, Deuce Spade was fairly well-liked.
To his underclassmen, he was understanding without compromising. To his senpai, he was loyal and determined. To Riddle, he was a steady person whom he trusted to keep him grounded.
To Ace, he was a freshly opened wound.
In the year and a half since he’d seen him, Deuce had grown up well. At nearly the end of their his second year, he’d shot up several inches and his shoulders had broadened too. Clearly, track and field had been serving him well. His hair was neat, and the scars on his knuckles had faded to a memory. He took notes in class. He called his mom twice a week. He was quieter, too. He smiled less now. Ace couldn’t help but nitpick the differences.
Each one was a check in a box, telling Ace he could never go back.
He’d been told he transformed pretty fast for a cupid. It had only been six months, his mentor had said as she ruffled his freshly turned white hair. He couldn’t tell if she was being annoyingly genuine or just plain insensitive. She reminded him of Cater, with her close-lipped smile and eyes that didn’t reveal a thing. The bright white wings and sniper rifle she carried were enough to distinguish her from a memory pretty quickly, however.
Her rundown was blunt and brief. He had died, young and suddenly. Having never been in love, the Goddess of Love took pity on him and turned him into a ‘Cupid’. The white hair, even redder eyes than he already had, wings, and uniform were all a part of that package. Unlike the cutesy Valentine’s decorations or cherubic art one might think of, Cupids were made of young guys and girls, all armed with love guns, bombs, and tactical gear more fitting for a shoot-em up game than a painting. All they had to do was bring love to humans, and one day, accruing enough “Karma”, they could eventually return to their lives they had lost, exactly how they were, though with a catch: The world moved on without them. They would be the same age they died, while friends and family would’ve aged, moved on, perhaps even died themselves. All in all, not a terrible deal, right?
Some cupids pushed themselves, racing to rejoin the land of the living. Others continued leisurely on, completing missions like that was all they needed, finding fun in it.
Ace found himself between the groups.
Apparently, he took to being a cupid like a duck to water. Ace just thought it was easy. Though he never claimed to understand love, it was usually pretty easy to see who would work with whom and why. And though he’d never held a gun other than those chained to an arcade machine before this, his hand-eye coordination hadn’t been anything to sniff at before he died. It was easy, and sometimes exhilarating. Going toe to toe with other cupids, racing to see who could complete the mission first and get the reward, was exciting. Immortal bodies, guns, and grenades that hurt no one, it was like a fantasy.
It made him sick.
Being saved because he died unfairly? Yeah, he could swing that. It wasn’t like he was psyched to go out that early either. But the Goddess, taking her cloying pity on him for never being in love, formed a pit in his stomach. It was bullshit.
He had loved, he was sure of it now. Maybe he hadn’t been in love. Maybe it wasn’t like everyone else's. Maybe he just didn’t know the words for it. Maybe it didn’t fit the Goddess's standards. But Ace knew it was true. Maybe he would’ve been able to figure it out when he was alive. Maybe he would’ve held that boy's hand. Maybe he would’ve kissed that Prefect goodbye went they went back home.
But it was too late for that now.
Even when he found himself at the end of another Cupid’s gun, or caught in the blast, he never found himself crying at the unfairness or throwing a tantrum in envy like the other Cupids under a direct blast of Love. It just filled him with a gnawing longing, a hunger he couldn’t satisfy. He couldn’t fall in love. He wasn’t a person anymore. Not a younger brother or a student or a human. He was a Cupid.
Ace had lost his chance. Even if he did his job and earned enough to come back to life, the world had already moved on. The Prefect had moved on, back to their home and their life. And the boy…Ace’s fist clenched, crumpling the target data sheet he was given.
It was Ace’s job to get him to move on now.
-
When he first read the info sheet, he tried to be surprised. The ‘previous objects of affection’ list was short, and two of the few faces on it were beyond familiar. His fingers brushed his own portrait, the red hair he hadn’t seen in months, the crossed-out name he had given up. The dark hair and dark eyes from the picture beside his own haunted him even more than his own image, and for Deuce, it was likely the same.
When Deuce walked the school halls, pity nipped at his heels, Ace saw as he observed. It was rare for NRC students to feel that way, and in such abundance, too. But it couldn’t be a surprise. All returning students knew what happened last year. And the new students caught on just as quickly.
A year filled with overblots, and ending with tragedy: The death of one student and the disappearance of another.
Two shadows followed Deuce Spade, and so the pity did too.
But it wasn’t like that with everyone.
Riddle held the same fractured sadness in his eyes, and those eyes looked at Deuce with pride, not pity. Jack, Sebek, and Ortho, who grieved the same, stuck with him and fought with him in all kinds of ways.
And of course, there was Epel Felmier. The sweet-faced and foul-mouthed boy who had grown into a proper protégé from Vil’s tutelage, taking everything and making it his own. His eyes shone when they looked at Deuce Spade, like they had since the day they’d driven to the beach and yelled to the skies.
He was headstrong and snarky, curious and stubborn. He was someone who would stay and someone who could grow.
He was someone Deuce Spade could love.
Ace watched them walk back from classes together, noting how Epel studied Deuce's face with his eyes, and he knew Epel had seen the same tenseness, the same exhaustion that Ace had. Ace watched as Epel slapped Deuce on the back with enough force to send him stumbling but not quite enough to send him flat out sprawling. When Deuce turned to yell at him, all Epel did was throw his head back and laugh, all the glamour of the Pomefiore Housewarden gone for a moment. He seemed to glow in the light of the lamps lining the path, and Deuce watched for a moment before giving in to the laughter as well, the tenseness fleeing him for a moment.
He threw down the books he was carrying, something Riddle would scold him for if he knew, and chased Epel across the courtyard. Epel, for his part, took off without a second thought, putting up a good fight even up against the track star he’d challenged. Ace looked on as they ran around the courtyard, laughter echoing in the cold air. They ran and ran until they collapsed onto one of the benches, chests heaving with the breathing they were trying to catch up on.
Ace watched as Epel watched Deuce wipe the sweat off his face. Ace watched as pink dusted Epel’s cheeks. Ace watched a genuine smile spread on Deuce’s face, brighter than any he’d seen after trailing him all day.
And as Deuce looked at Epel with a warmth Ace recognized, Ace smiled too, lifting his winged gun to the head of the boy on the bench.
“See you later, Juice.” He whispered to the air.
And he fired.