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carewyncromwell · 2 years ago

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“I won't cry, for you see, When you're gone, I'll still be Bloody Mary.”

x~x~x~x

HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri // featuring Cato Reese @catohphm and referencing Veruca McQuaid @ariparri

x~x~x~x

Nearly everyone in the Country of Spades openly mourned the loss of their beloved “Counselor,” the Jack of Spades, Duncan Ashe. He had been very well-liked by most of its people, so even those who hadn’t agreed with him politically or liked him as a person put on a good show of empathy and compassion in the face of it. Even Patricia Rakepick -- who everyone knew was Duncan Ashe’s main rival for power -- spoke very grimly and soberly about the assassination, though there were plenty of people who didn’t believe her act.

One of those people who believed it the least was Jacob Cromwell, a courtier who had been considered Duncan Ashe’s key advisor. The day before Duncan’s death, his mother Lane’s work visa to Hearts had been abruptly rescinded by Rakepick, who claimed that Lane leaving the country posed a threat to national security. Jacob had been so furious that he’d gone straight to Duncan about it, and he wasn’t pleased either.

“Your mother’s not the only one,” Duncan had told him, his jaw clenched with anger. “All visas and permissions that had been previously given have suddenly been revoked, all supposedly because of ‘security concerns.’ Some people have already been arrested on trumped-up charges, to try to prevent them from leaving.”

“Because she’s afraid folks’ll gab about the rotten state of things here, if they’re allowed to leave?” Jacob presumed, his voice pure venom at the thought.

“Pretty much. Rakepick knows the world wouldn’t be on her side in a lot of her positions. She wants to keep this whole thing contained here, in Spades -- even if public opinion isn’t really on her side, she can manipulate that more, if she asserts control here. The less objective sources people can turn to from the outside, the more they’ll have to rely on her and her supporters’ take on things.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed. “But this is overstepping her boundaries, isn’t it? She’s only in charge of the military -- it’s your job to deal with state affairs, Ashe, not hers.”

“Of course it is, and she knows it,” Duncan spat. “She’s gotten really bold, to challenge me like this.”

The Counselor got up from his desk.

“She’s asked me to meet her later tonight,” he said solemnly. “Jacob...I think if your mother has any hope of getting back to Carewyn, she’ll have to find her own way out.”

He paused. His eyes lingered on Jacob’s hand on the desk, but he resisted the urge to take it.

“...And so should you,” he said more quietly.

Jacob’s blue eyes flared. “I’m not leaving you, Ashe.”

“You made this plan for you to leave home because you saw how bad things were getting,” Duncan reminded him. “Don’t play the hero now.”

“Ashe, Rakepick sees you as a threat! If she -- ”

“Your sister needs you,” Duncan told him very sharply. “Your mother needs you.”

It was a pointed blow. Duncan knew Jacob well enough to know how selflessly and unconditionally he adored his family. Jacob quieted immediately.

Duncan swallowed and, clenching his fist as he resisted the urge to take Jacob’s shoulder and squeeze it, he took a step forward, his dark eyes boring into Jacob’s even as his voice grew lower in his throat.

“...Rakepick knows you’re aligned with me, Jacob. You know she and her allies will want to have some sort of leverage over you, to get what they want. Carewyn’s safe from Rakepick for now, but your mother isn’t. And if she has you...well, she has leverage over your mother and Carewyn. ...Over me.”

Jacob looked up at Duncan, startled. Duncan’s face was flushed darkly, but he kept his shoulders very straight.

“Over...?” started Jacob, but Duncan cut him off defensively.

“They love you, Jacob,” he said, his voice growing a little louder as he tried to force Jacob’s train of thought to a halt and redirect it. “You and I both know that if you were in trouble, Carewyn would want to run right back here to save you, and if she did -- well, then she’d be walking right back into Rakepick’s claws, wouldn’t she?”

His dark eyes hardened.

“You Cromwells always put each other over yourselves: it’s what you do. But if you want to protect your family, you’ll have to use that brilliant brain of yours for once and get out yourself. If you don’t, then Rakepick will have the means to catch all three of you. And once she has you, she’ll make you serve her ends -- just to make sure you can never break free again.”

Jacob stared at Duncan for a long moment. Then, setting his jaw, he nodded.

“I’ll write to Mum,” he said lowly. “Tell her to get out now, while she still can.”

“Then you’ll go after?” Duncan pressed him.

Jacob hesitated. Duncan held his gaze,

“...Yes,” Jacob said very quietly after a long moment.

Duncan’s eyes softened. His dark eyes lingered on Jacob’s face, becoming vaguer as they dipped into the creases of his lips -- he even found himself taking a step forward, just to better take in the tiny, charming creases around the other man’s eyes -- the softness of the curl beside his cheek...

“Jacob...” he said lowly.

“Yeah?”

But it was as though the sound of his own voice had startled Duncan back to life. Pride shot back up through his posture like an electric charge, and he immediately stiffened up again, walls coming up around his heart like an armadillo rolling up in a ball.

“...It’s nothing. Just...be careful.”

Jacob watched Duncan head for the door. Duncan could feel Jacob’s blue eyes running along his shoulder and the back of his head, trying and failing to read his expression, but stubbornly pushed back the urge to turn around. He was afraid if he did, he’d have trouble letting go of that curly-haired idiot ever again.

Because Duncan had meant what he’d said -- Jacob being within Rakepick’s reach was dangerous for all those who loved him and longed to protect him. And with the country falling apart from the inside and Veruca’s safety still in active danger after what happened to Coby, Duncan had more than enough to worry about as it was.

He couldn’t afford to worry about Jacob. He couldn’t be paralyzed with fear thinking of what might happen to Jacob, if things got much worse -- not when he had the whole Country of Spades to consider.

x~x~x~x

That very night, following his meeting with Duncan, Jacob sent an urgent note to his mother via a courier. The following morning, the whole Country of Spades learned the horrible news of Duncan Ashe’s assassination.

When Jacob received the news of Duncan’s death, he was absolutely beside himself with grief. His reaction to the news, coupled with the message from Rakepick demanding an audience with him, was so out of control that Jacob ended up violently taking his feelings out on all of the guards who had been assigned to guard the Ace of Spades when he went to confront her. After taking down a good thirty men with nothing but his own two fists and the blunt side of a shot gun, Jacob was finally overcome by Rakepick’s chief stooge, a dark-haired man named Kazuhiro Shiratori, and about ten other soldiers providing back-up. As it’d turned out, Jacob hadn’t had any additional shot or powder besides the one currently in the gun, hence why he’d only used the blunt side of it like a club. Many of Rakepick’s supporters insisted the lone shot in the gun was clearly intended for the Ace of Spades. If it weren’t for Rakepick herself intervening and ordering his imprisonment, Jacob Cromwell likely would’ve died that day.

It was nearly two weeks later that Rakepick followed up with Jacob in his cell. When she arrived, she found the prison quiet and still, except for a low, melancholy song echoing down the empty stone halls.

“Our duty first -- love must not lead... What might have been, had fate decreed? ‘Twere better far, had we not met -- I loved you then...I love you yet... Say ‘au Revoir,’ but not ‘Goodbye’ -- The past is dead: love cannot die. ‘Twere better far, had we not met -- I loved you then...I love you yet...”

Rakepick had heard Jacob Cromwell sing before -- she’d heard both him and his younger sister Carewyn sing in passing, so she had no trouble picking out that familiarly handsome Tenor tone, even despite its slight tear-soaked rasp.

He was grieving. However handsome his voice sounded, it echoed with bottomless pain -- the aching and longing of a man who’d lost the love of his life.

It made Rakepick’s eyes narrow that bit more as the prison guard escorted her down the hall toward Jacob’s cell.

“Jacob Cromwell, your Majesty,” the guard said dutifully.

Rakepick looked into the cell. Jacob had been bound with four different chains, each restraining his limbs to keep him tightly locked to the wall. His left sleeve was completely ripped off his shirt, he was nursing several bruises on his face, and his lip was bleeding.

Jacob looked up through the bars at the sound of the guard’s voice. The sight of Rakepick made him violently shoot to his feet, only to be held back like an attack dog on a leash by the chains binding him.

“You!” he snarled.

Rakepick’s expression became a little stonier.

“Hello, Jacob,” she said lowly.

Her eyes flitted to the guard. “Leave us.”

The guard gave a little bow, before marching back up the hall.

“What do you want, you murderous snake?” Jacob spat.

Rakepick waited for him to be fully out of sight before addressing Jacob. Her dark blue eyes were very cool upon him.

“Is that how you refer to the woman who spared your life?” she asked dryly.

“I know what you did to Coby -- to Ashe!” snarled Jacob. “Ashe was supposed to meet with you that very night, when he died -- ”

“A fact that gives me no solace, in the face of his assassination,” Rakepick cut him off in a very crisp, rehearsed sort of voice. “Believe me, had I not been waiting to meet with the Jack at the location agreed upon, I may have prevented his suffering...and yours, by extension.”

“You lying -- !”

“I do lament that things had to turn out this way, Jacob,” Rakepick said a bit more quietly. “Whether you believe me or not, I sincerely do.”

She folded her arms behind her back, pacing absently to the left as she considered Jacob out the side of her eye. Then, after a moment, she spoke again.

“...When was the last time you spoke to your mother?”

Jacob twitched. He glared up at her, but didn’t reply.

“Jacob,” said Rakepick very sharply. “I asked you a question.”

“And I didn’t answer it,” Jacob shot back very coldly.

“Jacob, your mother has gone missing,” said Rakepick. “No one’s seen her in the last two weeks -- the museum has heard nothing from her, and your flat has been abandoned.”

Jacob didn’t react with any kind of surprise. This seemed to be the answer Rakepick had been looking for -- her eyes narrowed, flaring with more fire than ever.

“Where is she?” she said very quietly.

Jacob didn’t respond -- instead he just turned his head away. Rakepick took hold of the bars, her eyes searing at Jacob through them.

“Your mother avoided an official summons from the Court of Spades,” she said sharply. “As you know, that in itself is a criminal offense. And with her visa already having been revoked out of a concern for national security, that now makes your mother a wanted woman, in the eyes of both the military of Spades and the country overall. When they find her, our officers will show no mercy -- unless you give me some information I can use to find her first.”

Again, Jacob didn’t answer. Rakepick’s eyes narrowed that bit more.

“That same information could also earn you your freedom, as well, if you merely cooperate,” she murmured. “I’ve already sent a letter to your sister’s university, telling her as much.”

The mention of Carewyn made Jacob shift slightly on the floor. Rakepick tried to latch onto this.

“Carewyn would be more than capable of advocating for you at your trial -- she more than knows the law well enough to argue a plea deal before the court. Then you can go back to living just the way you did before, here in Spades. Maybe even better than before. The army could use a mind like yours...as well as your sister’s.”

Jacob bowed his head. Rakepick tilted her head a bit, trying to gauge Jacob’s expression. Then, after a long moment, without moving off the floor, Jacob very slowly raised his head again to look back up at Rakepick.

His almond-shaped blue eyes were glinting with spite, and his lips curled up in a very large and cold smirk.

“‘And once she has you...she’ll make you serve her ends, just so you can never break free again,’” said Jacob. “Looks like Ashe really had you pegged.”

The curly-haired young man sharply rose to his feet, the chains rattling loudly in the movement as he got as close to the bars he could.

“Sorry, Rakepick -- but Lane Cromwell is long gone, and well out of your reach. And Wyn is more than wise enough to see through your little game -- no matter what you might tell her, or what you might threaten me with, she will never come back to Spades...and she will never serve you.”

Jacob’s eyes blazed with hatred despite the satisfaction in his expression.

“And once I break out of here myself,” he whispered venomously, “you’ll have no more leverage over my family. And I swear, I will not rest until you meet an end even more painful than the one you thrust upon Ashe.”

By the time Jacob was finished, Rakepick’s expression had hardened, losing all possible trace of compassion.

“...Very well.”

She stared Jacob down for a long moment, her dark blue eyes just as fiery and resentful as his. Then, turning on her heel, she called down the hall.

“Guard!”

The dutiful guard from before scrambled down the hall so as to meet Rakepick.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Double the watch on the prisoner,” Rakepick said very coldly, “and cut three links off his restraints. I don’t want him going anywhere.”

The guard saluted, before dashing off down the hall. Rakepick shot a look over her shoulder at Jacob.

“If you will not recant your past crimes and help us locate your mother, then your execution date will be set,” she said callously. “I sincerely hope for your sister’s sake, you have a change of heart on the matter -- it would pain me deeply, to have to inform her of her brother’s passing -- ”

“You contact my sister again, and I’ll show you the meaning of pain, you heartless witch,” Jacob spat.

Rakepick sighed tiredly. “You know, Jacob, your brain could earn you the honor and esteem of the world...but your temper really does make you impossible to work with.”

With this, she strode out of the prison.

x~x~x~x

That spring, across the border in the Land of Clubs, the Ace of Clubs, Cato Reese, was startled by a message he received from a town up near their northern border. An emaciated and exhausted-looking woman had been found collapsed in a heap on the railroad tracks just north of the capitol and had been brought to the local hospital to recover. When she’d awoken and someone had told her she was in the Clubs, she’d asked if anyone could help her find someone named Orion Amari.

“Someone named Orion Amari” -- it was a phrase that could make just about anyone in the Land of Clubs laugh, considering who Orion Amari was. But Cato instead found it very concerning, and he was sure to tell Orion so, when he escorted the King of Clubs on Abraxan-back up north toward the hospital where the strange woman was recovering.

“Madam Sprout’s letter noted that her manner of dress was distinctly foreign,” Cato said thoughtfully. “A worn wool skirt, a pinstriped waistcoat and white gloves...even the pocketwatch found on her was emblazoned with a crest of Spades.”

“That would explain her not knowing my position,” said Orion serenely.

“Maybe,” Cato granted as he adjusted his grip on the reins of his Abraxan steed, “but...well, I’ve seen those sorts of pocketwatches before. The Jack of Spades had one when he came to visit, remember? That has to indicate she’s got to be at least a little familiar with the Court of Spades, wouldn’t it? But if she’s encountered you through the Court of Spades, then she would have to know you’re the King of Clubs...”

“And yet she doesn’t,” finished Orion.

“Exactly.”

Orion’s steed Tralee gave a light murr. The King of Clubs brought a gentle hand through her silvery white mane to soothe her.

“It seems this stranger has some knowledge of me outside of my position as King,” Orion said, and he too looked intrigued now. “Let us get to the bottom of that swiftly.”

x~x~x~x

When the King and Ace arrived at the hospital, Madam Sprout led them under seemingly endless ceilings and past beautiful wooden pillars carved to resemble the trees that framed the building’s exterior. They migrated all the way to the far end of the ward, which held the bed belonging to the woman in question.

She was an older woman, likely the age to be both Cato and Orion’s mother, with long blond hair around a heart-shaped face and shadows under her eyes, which shone a bright, almond-shaped blue.

A very familiar blue...

When Orion and Cato approached, the woman looked up. Despite the frailness of her features, her eyes were very bright and alert.

“You have visitors, Lane,” Madam Sprout said kindly.

The name made a strange light of recognition spark to life in Orion’s eyes. Cato glanced at him, but his face was a mask he couldn’t quite read as he walked up to the woman’s bedside.

The woman called Lane smiled at Orion.

“Are you Orion?” she said. Her voice was very soft and oddly fragile, and yet echoed with warmth and hope.

“Yes,” said Orion.

Lane’s expression bloomed like a flower, her lips spreading into a full, relieved smile. She reached out to gently take Orion’s hand in both of hers, even if the kind gesture made Orion stiffen like a lightly startled cat.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said earnestly. “Even if it is like this. Winnie’s spoken so highly of you...”

“‘Winnie?’” repeated Cato, confused.

He looked to Orion for an explanation, but Orion was instead solely focused on Lane.

“Would your name...be Lane Cromwell?” the King asked, his voice very soft.

“Yes,” said Lane. “I’m Carewyn’s mother.”

That strange glint from before took over Orion’s eyes at that name, shining much brighter than before and yet also looking more tense.

“You were supposed to join Carewyn in the Kingdom of Hearts this last winter,” murmured Orion. “And yet you are here. I feel that I should be very concerned, about that.”

Lane’s eyes welled up with pain.

“The army blocked my work visa at the last moment,” she explained.

“Rakepick’s officially shut down all transport in and out of the Country of Spades,” supplied Cato, and Orion glanced at him. “She just shut down the railroad three days ago.”

“I thought she would,” said Lane. “I knew I’d need to show identification to use the train anyway...that’s why I just decided to follow the tracks on foot. I knew they’d take me to the Land of Clubs...even the Kingdom of Hearts eventually, if I just kept going...”

“You went on foot?” said Cato, alarmed. “To do that -- it must’ve taken you weeks to get here...”

“What of your son, Jacob?” Orion asked. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him as he regarded Lane. “He worked for your Jack of Spades, didn’t he?”

Another pained shudder rippled over Lane’s expression.

“...When my visa was blocked, Jay promised to follow up with the Jack of Spades. When I returned home that night, a courier brought me this -- ”

She leaned over to pick up a water-stained, crumpled-up letter, which Cato unfolded and read aloud:

“‘Mum -- your fears were right. Rakepick doesn’t want you leaving the country. Ashe has said there are already others who’ve been rounded up and put in jail after trying and failing to leave.’”

Cato shot a quick glance at Orion. His King’s black eyes had narrowed slightly.

“‘I’ll have to stay in the capitol tonight, to finish up some work for Ashe,’” Cato pressed on. “‘In the meantime, pack your things and leave the Country of Spades, now. It doesn’t matter where -- just run. I know you’ll want to wait for me so we can leave together, but I won’t be home for at least a whole day, and the Ace might get to you before I do. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be for us all to get out. Don’t worry -- I’ve already promised Ashe I’ll be right behind you, and now I’m promising you. I’ll find Wyn, and then I’ll find you. I love you. Jacob.’”

“Then it’s as we feared,” Orion murmured.

Orion looked from Lane, who had bowed her head to try to obscure the grief in her expression, to Cato.

“I must make contact with Veruca,” he said solemnly. “She’ll want to know at least one of the new Queen of Spades’ targets successfully escaped.”

Lane looked up, very startled.

“Queen?” she repeated, her soft voice incredibly tense and urgent.

Cato nodded grimly. “Patricia Rakepick recently took on the mantle of Queen, in the advent of Duncan Ashe’s death. She claimed it was out of a desire to ‘better centralize noble authority.’”

Despite the stability of his voice, the Ace of Clubs’s disapproval was apparent. Orion, whose face was a bit more stoic, clasped his hands in front of him as he looked out the window, his eyes absently resting on Tralee, who was tied up securely outside the hospital.

“We’ll use the regular channels, to reach Veruca,” he told Cato solemnly. “For Carewyn, however, I may need to be more direct...”

“Are you planning on going to the Kingdom of Hearts yourself to see her?” said Cato, surprised.

“I have sent letters to the university of Hearts, and they have reached her there,” said Orion. “Perhaps if I request an audience with the King and Queen of Hearts, I can use that as an excuse to likewise seek out a direct audience with Carewyn.”

#hphm cardverse #cardverse au #jacob cromwell #patricia rakepick #lane cromwell #orion amari #cato reese #my writing #aesthetic #moodboard #jacashe my boys I'm so sorry for the angst ;~;#just like in canon you guys didn't get to overcome your pride and stupidity respectively enough to come clean about your feelings DX #the escape artist will ttly have to break into the clocktower at some point just to see his dead boyfriend :'(#lane is a trooper though!!#being on the run for months before finally being brought to the hospital in clubs #not easy to try to bust out of spades with the army of spades breathing down your neck #don't underestimate mama lane she may be soft-spoken and bookish but she is a resilient little thing #just like her daughter!

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sunni-stuff · 6 days ago

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P2 P3

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #sunshine-sunni

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