Spade Of Hearts - Wally Darling X Reader

Spade of Hearts - Wally Darling x Reader

🍎【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】🍎

𝐀/𝐍: THE VOTES HAVE BEEN CAST, AND NOW ALL OF TUMBLR WILL WITNESS MY ROYAL!WALLY HYPERFIXATION!!

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: Soulmate AU, kingdom rivalries, suspicious magic is at hand, Slow Burn, Royalty AU, King of Hearts!Wally

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐,𝟗𝟗𝟔

Spades. The nation, nay, the very word was scorned into dust by any who had borne the unfortunate witness to their ways. It was a barbaric, wild land ruled over by an even crueler king. At least, that was what people had first assumed of it. 

And so, it was to nobodies surprise that when said king finally met his end by the tip of a heroic assassin’s sword that the people of Suits rejoiced – even those of Spade origin. The joyous parties, the lively banquets, the intimate gatherings, all had lasted around a week, though many, including the royal families, were still buzzing with the excitement of it all long after the travesty that befell the Kingdom of Spades. 

Any sympathy or perhaps even pity that one would normally have for a fallen kingdom, was remembered only as a time of finally having a centuries-old weight lifted from their shoulders. And many people – particularly of Hearts – waited with bated breath for its inevitable downfall, and the hideous, inky stain of the Kingdom of Spades would be wiped off their maps for good.  

Alas, the Kingdom of Spades was still standing, but only just barely by a weathered string. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before whatever poor soul was managing the mess left behind for them by the absence of that wicked tyrant finally - understandably - quit.

And then... The letter came. 

A letter that would soon break havoc across the Kingdoms of Suits. 

It was a small, gray envelope, neatly folded and pressed with the shiny ebony seal of the Kingdom of Spades, delivered to the King of Hearts himself around a year later after the grand celebration that followed the King of Spades' death. And it would be the true beginning of his story.

The messenger raven that had landed upon the monarch’s window was disheveled, age had wrinkled its feathers and nipped at its black beak. The king eyed it wearily and took the envelope in his hands. 

“And what do we have here...?” 

His initial shock at seeing the seal was soon overcome by cold indifference. Whatever business that wretched kingdom had with him was – obviously – bound for a harsh rejection. But he’d at least hear them out before giving them his inevitable answer, a promise to never let himself be involved in their affairs again.  

Slowly, as if he were holding some kind of venomous snake, the king lifted the seal with a letter opener and took out the parchment within it, squinting carefully eyes his eyes roamed the neat, swoopy handwriting. 

To whom it may concern,

This may not come as a shock to you, so I shall not put this matter lightly. The Kingdom of Spades has suffered a great loss over the past year, and we are on the verge of ruin. I understand the strife and grief that my king has once brought you, and I share that sorrow greatly. Many people of Spades do.

The King of Hearts nearly rolled his eyes, before reminding himself of the burden of hardship that many of the Spades people had to carry. He was hurt, true, terribly, irreversibly damaged by his time with the king. And dealing with the King of Spades and his callous attitude was one thing, something many could sympathize with. Something his friends could sympathize with. But living in his territory?   The King of Hearts held respect – albeit reluctantly – for those who were able to still stomach living there, let alone hold it together by thinning strings.

I only ask that you meet with a representative of our court, a prestigious member of the High Council, and the Princess of Spades. Though the rest of the council has begged her not to contact you, she understands greater than anyone else what we face.  

His eyes widened. Princess...?  

The king gripped the letter even tighter, his void-black pupils racing across the page as he searched for another mention of this ‘Princess of Spades’.  

The princess believes, as well as I, that a brighter future can be reached for the Kingdom of Spades, and that, despite past differences and disputes, we can all unite in our shared love for the Land of Suits. And so, we request an audience with the King of Hearts himself, to speak with our princess, and build a brighter future for these kingdoms. Wallace Darling, King of Hearts, we, the people of the Spades Kingdom, humbly ask for your aid.

Sincerely,

Catherine Eclair, Ace of Spades.

As soon as the king finished the letter, his eyes ran over the word ‘Princess’ a few more times, before finally collapsing in his seat, a grand relic accented with his kingdom’s colors of crimsons and golds, much too luxurious for a mere office chair. 

The Princess of Spades... Why did that title sound so familiar? And why hadn’t he ever heard of her before? Surely, all of the Kingdoms would’ve known of her existence, preparing for the worst since, and no pun intended, the apple never falls far from the tree.

The king, with great effort and fruitless frustration, tried to press the memory of meeting this 'Princess of Spades' before it slipped away from him, but his mind simply pushed back, refusing to recognize the title.

Finally, with a heavy heart and reluctant hand, the King of Hearts addressed his first letter to the elusive Princess of Spades. 

. . .

Meanwhile, in the Kingdom of Spades...  

“You did what!?”  

The Jack of Spades roared across the table at the unbothered Ace while his spouse nervously tugged on his sleeve for him to back down into his seat, but he did not budge. The lady across from him seemed bored, to say the least, yawning and checking her nails with indifference.

“I was ordered to send that letter,” the brunette waved dismissively, further fueling the Jack's ire with her, in his own words, "womanly ignorance." The vein in his temple throbbed furiously, and many of the Court had to stifle their giggling at just how ridiculous he looked, his eyes bulging out of his head cartoonishly. 

“Enough.”  

Your voice completely cut through the tense air in the room, and the Court immediately fell silent at your authority, save for the heavy breathing of the Jack, whose nostrils were flared in anger. With clenched fists and his forehead still bright red with anger, the intolerable man slumped defeatedly in his seat, nearly wincing at how you glared down at him with a heavy scowl.

You had always assumed that you looked much you looked like your father, when you were angry. Perhaps, with the way the Jack of Spades was trembling, it was true.

The Ace, Catherine, tilted her nose in the air with a smug grin, clearly eating up the way he seemed so afraid of you. “Now, that’s more like it, Marlowe," she turned to his wife with a condescending smile. "Don't worry, Lillian, we all share your struggle. Dealing with such a man-child must be so tiresome." 

The Jack and his wife both turned bright red for very different reasons, but you interrupted them. “Do not provoke him, Eclair,” you scolded sternly, but most of the heat from your voice was gone as you addressed your closest friend. The Jack scoffed. 

“Is now really the time to be playing favorites, Princess?” You slowly turned your head towards him with a cold glare at the mockery of which he spat out your title, but he didn’t meet your eyes, still burning holes into the sockets of the Ace. 

“Roman...” his wife pulled more urgently on his sleeve, but he did not soften his resolve as you challenged him with an arched brow. The bright pink soulmate mark etched upon her wrist caught your eye as her glove inched upward, but you quickly flickered your gaze away. A pity, that she still hadn't found her Fated, yet.

But at least she has a chance...

“I told her to send that letter, Jack.” You spat back at him with pure venom, looking down upon him with scorn, and your eyes flickered to his wife with slight pity in your gaze. You more than understood what it’s like to deal with men with impossibly inflated egos and barely a brain between their cotton ears. 

The Jack finally met your gaze with an incredulous guffaw. “You told her to send a letter to those egotistical, milk-fed numbskulls!?" He laughed cynically, and even his wife flinched away from him, the poor, mousy thing. "With all due respect, my Princess-” 

“It was a necessary move, Marlowe,” your expression grew colder, and the air became frosty with contempt. “You’ll do yourself a favor to not question my methods and keep that temper of yours in check.” You pressed your palms further against the table with every syllable as your frigid irises, pale and shrinking into pinpricks daring him to speak another word against you. When the Jack did not respond, only seething in his seat did you lean back into your chair at the head of the table, satisfied and looking positively regal.

You sat up straight with and cleared your throat. Though your chair was less grand than your throne, it was still clear to anyone with half a mind that you carried the heaviest crown. 

“Now...” you crossed your legs, more relaxed upon your seat as the table turned their heads towards you. “I do expect to receive a letter back from the King of Hearts, whether that be a rejection, or an invitation to discuss this kingdom’s future. No matter his reply, we shall mend the bonds that the earlier king has severed, and we will make our intentions clear.” 

Side-eyeing the Jack, you added, “And despite our differences, we will be gracious, impeccable guests, who carry nothing but gratefulness for the opportunity to speak with the King of Hearts, and perhaps the rest of the Kingdoms of Suits.” 

“We will succeed. We will survive. Come Hell or high water, I will lead this kingdom to a new dawn.” 

As you spoke, you noticed that, with swelling pride, that the entire table was now looking at you, many with raised eyebrows at your outspokenness, and some with slight unease at your ambition. Fair enough. You were your father’s daughter, after all. 

Still, many within your court had respect for you surviving your father’s tyranny behind closed and opened doors, and because of it, believed you had earned your rightful place at the head of the table. Though some had also greatly pitied you because of the faded tattoo upon your forehead, spelling out words in ancient ruins that marked you as hou'ki, in your language. Abandoned, without a soulmate, damned to live your days without the love of a Fated.

Thanks to him...  

But you had no need for a king, nor the useless pity of one, and you were sure that the kingdom didn’t, either. You would rule your way, your wretched father’s teachings be damned.

You were not a gentle fawn, nor some pure forest nymph, untouched by the rottenness of the world – you had seen your share of corruption – but you were fair. You were the only hope these cotton-headed fools had. You were the key to your kingdom’s future. 

And these people had better get used to it. Soulmate or not, I am still their future Queen of Spades.  

Suddenly, the screech of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor turned everyone’s attention to the Ace of Spades, who was dramatically wiping tears from her eyes while clapping with a bright smile. 

“Bravo, my Queen! Bravo!”  

You blinked at the title, but before you could correct her theatrics, the Two of Spades stood with her, and so had his soulmate. The Fourth and his Fated wife followed, followed by the Third, Fifth, Six, and so on, and soon all of the High Court of Spades, all applauding you with bursts of enthusiastic clapping. 

Nodding, you looked over the plans and various documents set out upon the table, hiding your soft blush at all the praise. 

“Right. Thank you. So, let’s get to organizing our proposition to the King of Hearts...” 

. . .

As soon as the meeting had ended, with the Jack storming out of the room and you maintaining composure no matter how drained you felt, you ordered for all to leave the room, save for Catherine, as always. She was your closest confidante in these trying times, and her bold and challenging spirit kept you sane. Even in your childhood, she was a lighthouse in the murky fog of all you had forgotten, comforting you in your lowest times.

Right now, though, she was eyeing you warily while you still gazed obsessively over the plans on the table, mumbling to yourself and nipping at the skin of your nails anxiously. 

“Oh, stop that, now, you’ll chew your nails off, at this point.” She batted one of your hands away from your face with pursed lips.

“Catherine, I don’t know if I can take this, anymore,” you rubbed your eyes while leaning back into your chair, and your poor back was suddenly beaten with the stress of the day finally catching up to you. 

Maybe standing for prolonged periods of time isn’t good for you...  

The day had been wrought with nerves and pure bundles of anxiety, and all you wanted was to indulge in a hot bath to soothe the ache between your shoulders, while nursing a glass of sweet, bubbly wine and reading your favorite comfort novel. 

Thoughts of relaxation seemed damn near foreign to you, at this point, what with the sleepless nights spent planning and organizing, ripping out hair follicles at the prospect that the Kingdom of Hearts, the very bane of your father’s existence, was your only savior. 

“Honestly, do you just want to run away from all of our responsibilities, and live free in the Kingdom of Clubs, with their music and wine and sunlight?” You smiled up at her with tired, glassy eyes. 

The Marchioness raised an incredulous eyebrow and scoffed. “You? Giving up? First of all, who the hell are you and what have you done with the Queen? Second, what happened to that ‘come hell or high water’ speech?”  

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not the Queen, yet. And there is no guarantee this gambit of mine will work,” I reminded her, and Catherine simply rolled her eyes in return.  

“Right, and I’m to propose to the Jack of Spades while doing a jaunt in nothing but my undergarments.” 

For someone who speaks so properly, she has quite the imagination...  

“You know what I mean! Mending the relationship between the four kingdoms, a possible discussion with the King of Hearts...” you frowned. The more you thought about your master plan for the Kingdom of Spades, the more it all seemed so out of reach. But you’d already taken a gamble to get your kingdom out of your father’s hands, it was only right that you would also take the responsibility of ruling it. 

“Not to mention, when you warned me that Jack Marlowe was unbearable, you should’ve elaborated.” You snarled with a blaze of anger at the memory of that horrible, irritable man while Catherine laughed at your expense.  

“Well, you did hand his arse to him,” she snorted, checking her nails with a haughty smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that angry, not since...” 

“Not since he waged a war with the Kingdom of Hearts?” 

Catherine nodded. “The Clash of the Cards...” 

You slumped in your chair, rubbing swirls into your brow as you tried to forget the sheer terror mixing with hatred at the thought of your father sending armadas of soldiers to conquer the Kingdom of Hearts. 

Perfect. Yet another reason why the kingdom will think of me as a mad fool.  

“Do you think it’ll work?” Her voice, so uncharacteristically soft, broke through your train of thought, and started another one. 

You let the question linger in the air for a long time, dousing everything in silence. You already knew what Catherine was referring to, already asking that question, yourself. Would this work out? Would this risk, this pipe dream of a plan that you had concocted over the years, possibly be worth losing your kingdom? Or were you a fool for believing that after the years of tyranny, that the King of Hearts would even consider helping the likes of you? His worst enemy’s eldest daughter?  

Yes. You were. But this was the only choice you could make to take your kingdom in a better direction. 

Before you could answer, a meek voice derailed your thoughts. 

“My Princess?” Catherine and you turned to the large doors leading into the meeting room that housed the Spades Court. There stood a petite, raven-haired maid with a silver tray in her hands, with a curious piece of parchment upon its surface. 

“Yes, Agatha?” 

“A letter, from the Kingdom of Hearts was delivered today,” your eyes widened, and you and Catherine shared an apprehensive glance. “The messenger stated it was for you, my Princess.” 

Catherine was fiddling in her seat – with either excitement or anxiety was anyone’s guess – as Agatha walked over to you, bowing as you took the letter from the tray. “Thank you, Agatha. You are excused.” 

You gave her a tight smile, and the maid left with a small final bow. You and Catherine stared down at the letter, eyes widening at the wax seal. It was dyed a bright, glittering crimson, with a heart stamped perfectly into the middle. 

The silence must’ve been too nerve-wracking for the Marchioness, as she nudged your shoulder with palpable impatience. 

“Well? Open it, already!” 

Scoffing, you lifted the wax seal, no bit of caution spared as you took out the letter, and Catherine leaned over your shoulder to read it. 

To the Princess of Spades...

Me, omw to explain to everyone that I know how much of a fucking masterpiece this is and how beautiful the artwork was executed and how pleasing to the eyes the color palette is:

*tags are for reach

Dear me:

Ok, I know I am SO fucking late with the Adams Family one-shot I promised...

But life hit me with a goddamn bullet train and left me for dead at the side of a highway in LA during rush hour, so please hear me out.

For those who are still waiting for the Adams Family!Alastor x Reader - IT WILL COME OUT, BUT I want to make some simple headcanons while I continue to write it. They'll be posted later today to get my motivation for writing on Tumblr back up

🥰😭 How angst authors don't start sobbing in the middle of writing these imagines I will never know

Drowning

Notes: I’m writing this with Painted Smile! Alastor. I just want you all to know that, because if I were to write him like you weren’t with him from the beginning , he would care as much. This is an ask from  @kimoko-james, I hope this little scenario will sooth your heart,  my dear. Ask: Could you maybe write something about how we lost a pet close to us?

You were crying, holding your pillow against your chest.

It was so painful, you felt like drowning.

Alice has given you a kitten for your birthday. You always wanted a pet for yourself. You would cherish it more than your own life. He was so little when Alice gave him to you. He could almost fit in your palm. He was meowing as you nuzzled against him.

His little paws were so cute, touching your face like it was trying to remember your face.

But then, he was gone.

You didn’t know what happened, he was just… no longer by your side. You wouldn’t hear his little paws on the floor anymore. You wouldn’t hear him meowing at Alastor because the man put him back on the floor so he wouldn’t dirty his suit with his fur.

“ Darling?”

You sniffed, turning your head toward Alastor. He didn’t turn on the light, keeping your room in the dark which you silently thank him. You didn’t want him to see you like that and yet…

He walked toward your bed, sitting next to you, caressing your wet cheeks. You let go of your pillow before going on his laps, sighing in bliss when you felt his arms wrapped around your frame.

“ He is gone…”

He listened to you as you poured out your heart to him. You kind of expected Alastor to mock you. He wasn’t a fan of animals. He didn’t understand your love for them, but he respected it. You were having so many bad thoughts about yourself. Did you make any mistakes? 

“ How lucky of him.”

You jerked your head toward Alastor. Did he say what you really thought he said? You felt anger swirling inside your body. You weren’t strong enough to play any games today. You opened your mouth but he kissed you quickly, making you shut up.

“ I’m jealous. He knew you all his life. All his memories, as short as they are, are filled with your smiles, your kisses. How can he not be lucky?” he smiled at you, moving away a lock of your hair. “ Come on, dearest. Don’t be sad for giving him the best life he ever had? Being loved by you is the best thing to feel.” He kissed your forehead as you looked down.

Your pet was gone, you would no longer hold him against your chest, you would no longer call his name and beamed as he reacted to it. You would feel pain for losing him. But knowing that the little life he had with you made him at least a little happy, soothed some of your pain.

You looked at Alastor who was still looking at you, observing the pain in your face. You knew he hated seeing you in this state but you couldn’t help it. You felt tears gathered once more in your eyes.

Alastor kissed your eyes, making your tears drop, before standing up and walking toward the record player and putting a vinyl on it. You looked at him as soft music began to feel the air. He walked back toward you, before holding his hand toward you. You took his hand after wiping your eyes and gasped as he tugged you against his chest.

He began to balance you from right to left, softly against him. You kept your head against his chest, listening to his beating heart. 

“ I want you to smile after the song is over.”

You hiccuped,looking at him, not sure of yourself. He was so obsessed with your smile but you didn’t know if you were ready to smile right now. As you felt dread when the song was coming to an end, Alastor restarted it. 

You looked at him, blinking. He kept dancing with you, smiling down at you, going to the record player each time the song was coming to an end to restart it.

You closed your eyes as his arms caged you against him. You knew he didn’t like you in this state, mostly because it means you weren’t thinking about him, but you know he would do anything to make you smile.

And just like, you smiled a little bit. Just like the song that was on repeat, you would start again your life, bearing your loss. But you wouldn’t be alone, Alastor would always be here to keep you from drowning.

"How your life feels is more important than how it looks."

I FINISHED IT

I have a version of him covered in blood but I'm not sure ill post it xD

Holy fucking shit, I've cracked the code. I have answered the burning question everyone wants to know about Alastor, love me, I know all.

God, just. Looking at Alastor's mic in a few scenes and. The shape of it. It looks awful familiar, now doesn't it?

We're all wondering if he has a tail and it would seem that he does. His microphone. It's an extension of himself. It has to go somewhere when he's not holding it, right?