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seungrishair · 13 days

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Cardan’s tail lives rent free in my mind.

For one thing, he can’t control it. He tries to hide his true emotions but his tail betrays him and reveals them, thus he keeps it hidden.

When Jude kidnaps Cardan and he exclaims he has a tail “Would you like to see it!” He’s not just being nervous and funny, he’s showing that he’s going to be completely truthful with her.

The tail is described as thin and mostly hairless except for a tuft of hair at the end. You know who else has a thin mostly hairless tail with a tuft of hair at the end? A lion! And Cardan’s tail behaves like it belongs to a cat.

For instance, the first time Jude and Cardan are intimiate, she describes pulling down his pants and

My dude, tail curled up against the body is a sign of vulnerability. And though my man had the initiative and experience, he felt vulnerable against Jude. In his mind he was exposing his feelings to this powerful woman that seemed to not be hurt by anyone or anything. In a later chapter he is hurt when she acts as though that intimate moment meant nothing to her.

The second time they’re intimate, Jude describes the tail as

Lashing back and forth is an aggresive move. It is done when hunting and ready to pounce. My girl had Cardan going. That man was ready to attack.

Then when they’re getting down to business, the tail

Baby, that’s possessivness. That tail is saying what Cardan is screaming inside, MINE! That’s his woman. The tail wrapping around another being is also done when the pair is bonded. It means they have accepted you as part of them. Jude isn’t just his woman, his wife; she has become a part of him.

Also, in question of if the tail wags from side to side when he sees Jude, it probably doesn’t. That’s dog tail behavior. Cardan’s tail probably shoots straight up in the air with the tuft end in a hook like a cat’s does when it sees it’s favorite people and friends.

#there is no tail erasure in this house.#cardan #cardan greenbriar #high king cardan #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #the wicked king #holly black #jude x cardan #jurdan

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flueroses · 1 year

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cardan’s letters to jude in a nutshell

That’s a waste of pap— that’s a waste of grief, begging, love and I quote, “indiscreet promises”

the “I expect you to come back now that everything is settled” letter

lol the “I want you to come back but I don’t want to say it so just come be angry at me closer” letter

The second half part though- 😭. the “just come home I don’t care what you do to me but just COME BAAAACK” letter

Cardan be like: tf does this queen think she is not responding to my letters, AKA the “YOU HAVE NEVER DONE MORE OF A SIN THAN THIS JUDE DUARTE” letter

Also cardan: yeah I’m doing something wrong, how about I address this to The High Queen of Elfhame, ha this will definitely work AKA the most heartfelt, poetic and longest letter

At this point cardan just gave up and started doing what he does best: writing Jude’s name in an angry, passionate and grieving fashion. This is called the, “ I give up you win” letter.

#the folk of the air #cardan's letters to jude #jude x cardan #jude duarte #the wicked king #jurdan #the queen of nothing #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #in a nutshell #tfota #tfota series #tfota memes #tcp #twk #tqofn

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bookishsongs · 1 year

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HEY! FOLK OF THE AIR FANDOM! GUESS WHAT? We have an album made up of brand new original songs all about Elfhame coming to you on June 9. Above you can see our beautiful album artwork done by @eerna as well as our full tracklist!

As you can see, we’ve written songs about Jude, Cardan, Nicasia, and all your other Elfhame favs, as well as a special song for the Darkest Part of the Forest. If you enjoyed our Grishaverse album Sinners & Saints, then you’ll absolutely love this one too!

You can PRE-SAVE this album RIGHT NOW. Tumblr is terrible about links so please follow the link “our music” on our blog for that sweet, sweet pre-save link!

We are not affiliated with @hollyblack we are just huge fans and wanted to celebrate our love for her amazing books.

#the folk of the air #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the stolen heir #holly black #books #bookish #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #taryn duarte #nicasia #the darkest part of the forest #suren #oak greenbriar #uth

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thelov3lybookworm · 2 months

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Weeping heart (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: She's so over today.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: i like this how this chapter ended up lol, ill try my best to post the next part sooner my loves mwah 😘

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

•○🌑○•

She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck as she discarded her blanket on the cot in the middle of the tent, trying to prolong the reprieve before she inevitably had to address the other presence in the tent.

Y/n was going to kill someone, hopefully Herb.

Rolling her neck, she walked towards the small table that sat a few feet away from the bed and bent to pick all the remaining weapons that sat on the table.

"Are you trying to ignore me?" Cardan questioned, his tone so genuinely confused that Y/n felt bad for trying to avoid him, but she could no say she regretted it.

After all, she was just trying to protect herself.

"What makes you think that?" She mumbled, her focus fixed on the weapons she strapped to herself.

She could hear him moving around, shuffling. From how close she'd been to him, she knew he was under pressure and was starting to get protective.

"You have been gone for months now, and you didn't even smile at me when you saw me and now you are not talking to me at all-"

"I've just been stressed, Cardan." Finally, after she finished checking her body to make sure she had all her weapons, she turned to find him frowning at her.

She wanted to smile at him, but she didn't have energy to even blink.

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave. It might be night time when I return, so don't wait up."

His frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Y/n swiftly turned on her heel and made her exit, not bothering to even pretend she really was getting late.

She was just too tired now, and all she wanted to do was run away, live in a mountain home and maybe terrorize children by pretending to be a witch, but alas, that was not possible.

Yet.

•○🌑○•

The late afternoon sun was glaring down at Y/n and Herb, and despite the snow still blanketing the ground, the weather was hot. Too hot to be comfortable in an armor.

The thick silence was also not helping as Y/n and Herb made their way to the bar in the middle of town, having just finished the job they had come to get done.

That meant they could've returned to the camp, but Y/n had insisted on getting something to drink, not yet ready to face Cardan again after the shit show that had been her morning.

Y/n could tell Herb had questions he wanted to ask, but he knew that opening his mouth would probably end up with her scolding him, so he kept quiet as he stalked along next to her.

Y/n tried to relax as the bar came into view, rolling her shoulders.

It only got her more tensed up.

The bell jingled behind the pair as they walked in, a soft breeze cooling the back of Y/n's neck as the door swung shut behind her.

The car- tavern, really- was mostly empty, an hour or two left before it started filling with patrons wishing to wind down from their day's work.

A couple sat in a corner, leaning close together as they giggled and chugged their drinks, and Y/n eyed them before turning and following Herb to a table near the far wall.

As she settled down, she eyed the male standing right in front of the counter, laughing at something the owner said. Y/n's eyes narrowed as she realised it was not any male. It was one of her soldiers.

What is he doing here?

Sure, the soldiers were free to roam and explore the towns the group visited when not on duty, but they never came to taverns in the middle of the day, lest they have to fight later. It was only when they were certain that nothing would happen or if they got permission from Y/n that they would visit these places.

Blinking, Y/n turned to find Herb studying her, his arms folded on the table as he leaned forward.

"What?"

His eyes did not waver at her sharp tone. "I'm sorry."

Y/n grunted. "It's okay."

Y/n did not like the way he stared at her, his eyes seeming to read her like an open book. "Is it really?"

Y/n rose a brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head, his eyes so serious Y/n was concerned for a moment. "Nothing."

"It does not sound like nothing."

He sighed. "Look, I know there's something going on with you. I've known you for years now and you were never the one to just up and leave for a mission. You always took up missions that at the very least gave you the time of a week before leaving. So there's definitely something you're hiding."

Y/n straightened, looking away.

Herb was not the type of person to be serious. In the twenty years she had known him, since that first day when she had walked into class and befriended Cardan, and sat next to Herb, the male had never spoken a word if it was not meant to make someone laugh.

He was like that, Herb. He cared for people around him, and because he never seemed sad or serious, y/n had just assumed he was a little dumb.

She realised now how foolish it was.

"What are you trying to say Herb?"

"Just that I figured it has something to do with the High king, and if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be there."

There was something indecipherable in his eyes as he spoke, the way he refused to break eye contact and the way he spoke so confidently, no traces of humour to be found in his soft, deep voice that sent chills down Y/n's back.

Y/n gave a curt nod, turning her eyes to stare a hole into the cheap wood of the table they had settled at.

Y/n could tell Herb still studied her, and it was another moment of heavy silence before he spoke up, his normal self back.

"So, have you heard of the toad that ate the horse?"

•○🌑○•

Y/n knew her suspicions were right when she stumbled into a raging revel in the camp after a day of wasting her time, everyone gathered around the huge fire in the middle, singing bawdy songs as Cardan looked over them like a pleased cat.

She had not wanted to return to the camp after her visiting the tavern, so she had told Herb to go by himself. He, of course, had decided to stay with her and laze about the small town.

"What is going on here?"

Cardan's eyes flew to where Y/n stood, glaring at them all as Herb stood at her back.

Cardan grinned, the smile Y/n had been in love with.

"We are celebrating!" One of the soldiers- clearly drunk- called out, giggling.

Y/n glared at him, then at Cardan.

His smile faltered, then slowly fell off when Y/n did not smile back.

Y/n stared at him a moment longer, letting him know that she was not pleased, then turned, heading into her tent.

She was so over today.

Tired, sleep claimed her the moment her head hit the hard mattress, and she slept deeper than she ever had, nothing able to wake her.

Not the sound of the night birds, not the sound of the soldiers screaming their hearts out outside, not the loud crash when one of them fell into her tent as he tried to navigate his way to his tent.

Nothing woke her up, except for the sudden hand that covered her mouth in the dark of the middle of the night.

•○🌑○•

Cardan Greenbriar Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @123345566 @mp-littlebit @tele86 @riddlesb1tch @bubybubsters

Taglist: @dreamsarenicer @kennedy-brooke @123345566

#cardan greenbriar #cardan x reader #cardan greenbriar x reader #cardan x y/n #cardan x you #jude x cardan #prince cardan #high king cardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #reader insert #x reader #character x reader #angst

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yureichi · 2 months

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I’ve gathered quotes from twk and qon of Jude being in love but pretending she wasn’t bc why not. let’s gooo.

“My body has acclimated (to poison), and now it craves what it should revile. An apt metaphor for other things.”

“(After the crossbow incident) I am shaking, I realize. The aftereffects of believing someone tried to assassinate Cardan, of realizing he could have died.”

“I wish I could think of a place he’d be safer.”

“I look into his eyes. His hand slides to my hip, as though he might pull me closer. For a dizzy, stupid moment, something seems to shimmer in the air between us.”

“I still feel the warm pressure of his fingers against my skin. Something is really wrong with me, to want what I hate, to want someone who despises me, even if he wants me, too. My only comfort is that he doesn’t know what I feel.”

“Our gazes meet, and there’s a shock of mutual understanding that our bodies are pressed too closely. […] I am aware of the warmth of his neck beneath my twined fingers, of the prickly brush of his hair and how I want to sink my hands into it. I inhale the scent of him—moss and oakwood and leather. I stare at his treacherous mouth and imagine it on me.”

“Then his mouth is against mine, and my lips part. I close my eyes against what I’m about to do. My fingers reach up to tangle in the black curls of his hair. He doesn’t kiss me as though he’s angry; his kiss is soft, yearning.”

“I’ve wanted this and feared it, and now that it’s happening, I don’t know how I will ever want anything else.”

“I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel.”

“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”

“I like him better than I’ve ever liked anyone and that of all the things he’s ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.”

“She loves him, I realize uncomfortably.

His fingers trace their way down her arm to the back of her wrist, and I remember vividly the feeling of those hands on me. Kiss me until I am sick of it, he said, and now he has most certainly gorged on my kisses. Now he is most certainly sick of them. I hate seeing him with Nicasia. I hate the thought of his touching her.”

“I wonder if I will ever be able to look at him again without remembering what it was like to touch him.”

“It occurs to me that maybe desire isn’t something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.”

“[…] All I want to do is walk into his arms. I want to drown my worries in his embrace. I want him to say something totally unlike himself, about things being okay.”

“The offhand implication that he’s not alone most nights bothers me, and I hate that it does.”

“I cannot look at him as he goes out. I am a coward. Maybe it’s the pain in my leg, maybe it’s worry over my brother, but a part of me wants to call after him, wants to apologize.”

“I hope Cardan misses me.”

“I wonder what would have happened if I’d admitted he wasn’t out of my system.”

“But when I think of the night he was shot at, the night he did coin tricks, I can’t help recalling him gazing up from my bed, intoxicated and disturbingly intoxicating.”

“I am unnerved to find myself here, in the new High King’s new bed—one I am still too human to lie in, beside someone who terrifies me the more I feel for him.”

“But there is also a weakness in me, because I dreamed of him kissing me for all my time in the Undersea, and now with his mouth on mine, I want to sink my nails into his back.”

“I don’t want to think of someone else standing beside Cardan in my place.”

“The very thought of being there (Elfhame), of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. At least no one is privy to my thoughts. Stupid as they are, they remain my own.”

“I want another bite at the everapple, another chance at power, another shot at him.”

"He looks every inch the spy from the Court of Shadows, down to the sneaky smile pulling at a corner of his beautiful mouth."

#she just kept saying well I like and worry and care about him and we desperately want to make out but of course we still hate each other #lololol #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the folk of the air #jurdan

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iscreammutiny · 2 months

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Primroses

Jude x Cardan

Post Qon/Cardan's pov/Angst/Hurt/Comfort if you squint/Cardan is traumatised/Jude is also traumatised damn/bit of fluff in the end

(FIRST EVER JURDAN FIC HELLOOO sorry if the pacing is off and if there are some horrendous mistakes guys english is not my first language☝️ but I'll get there someday ong)

——————————————————————

Several jagged branches snake over a glass window, covering it, as dusk spills onto the High King's sleeping form in slits of pale, shifting light.

But the land, drowsy as it is with the slow rise and fall of his breath, isn't fast enough to stop the cold from creeping in and nipping at his fingers–a troublesome little gift from winter's last of evenings.

He stirs, slumber disrupted from the sudden sharpness in the air, blearily stretching his hand out to grasp for more warmth, fingers splaying out across the bed for the familiar dip of a waist, only to be met with cold, bare sheets. Cardan stills then, eyes snapping open in alarm.

The High King of Elfhame has never been fond of the colder weather. Not only does he find it dull and dreary, he finds it to be cruel too, ironic as that would've been a few years ago.

It irked him then, the fact that there was too much to miss, too much to long for. And It irks him now–now that it holds too many reminders. Of wretched times, of his own year of hollow hands, pierced with the stinging absence of sharp blades and even sharper eyes.

It terrifies him still, the idea of winter returning.

He lies there, frozen in his spot, staring at the ceiling as the branches and leaves covering it start to writhe, coalescing into a dense, panicky mass of rot, sprouting and resprouting again.

Fear is familiar, his one constant, he should be used to it by now. But this...this is entirely separate. A kind of sickness he can't seem to shake off, a bone deep terror, of waiting for the other shoe to drop, the arrow to find its mark, the price of his undeserving head to finally catch up to him.

He doesn't dare turn his head to the side or tear his eyes off the ceiling, doesn't want to look. Because what if he finds out that he's been dreaming all this time–another one of those illusions borne out of plum wine?

That, drunk and slumped over, he's awoken just now to realize that the other side of the bed has been empty all along?

"Jude?", he whispers into the near dark, heart sinking when he hears nothing but the sound of his own breathing. A brief vision of empty palace halls at dusk flashes in his mind, looming above him, echoing with the ghostly voices of distant revels as he shuffles along, moth eaten fur pelts trailing behind his small form. He closes his eyes, allowing the dark to have its way with the unwelcome memory.

It was funny, really. A soundless twilight still seemed to him like a token of his own misery, one he can trace all the way back to the sour tang of cat's milk on his breath, long before the days he’d spent on hollow hall's floor crouching and heaving, finding a detached sort of similarity between his own soul and those terribly vacant halls in his childhood.

And yet, of all the weapons that have ever been used on him, his queen's silence is, by far, the one that has wounded him the most.

Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude-

His chest heaves, straining as the panic fully sets in. He kicks at his sheets and scrambles upright to check, to see for himself because, miraculously, he might just be wrong. Perhaps he has been worrying for naught–and yet.

And yet, a part of him is already thinking: just rip the bandaid off, just rip it and be done with it.

He turns to look and, immediately, the rush in his head goes quiet. The branches overhead cease twisting as breath stutters out of his chest in a faltering sigh. Everything stills, then eases back into place because there it is, silken sheets rumpled on the far side of the bed. There she is, whole and hale, pale light tracing the familiar outline of her silhouette. Must've rolled off to the edge of the bed in her sleep, the chestnut of her hair spilling onto a half occupied pillow, the slow rise and fall of her sleeping form, curled into a scythe of a girl and stars above, could he get more foolish than this?

He uncurls his hands from fists he'd unknowingly wounded them into, watching the crescents buried into his palm turn red. Haltingly, Cardan scoots forward and reaches out towards her. His hand shakes, a whisper of a touch, barely there as he tries to brush the hair out of her face. Her lovely, and for once, untroubled face. He has to be careful because Jude is a light sleeper and any manner of respite is rare for her(and if she is a figment of his imagination—he doesn't want to let go just yet).

Unconsciously, she nestles into his palm as he gingerly traces the hollow of her cheekbone. A sick little laugh crawls up his throat, turning into a quiet sob as he tries to steady his heart. She's here, he tells himself, be still, be still, be still.

Instinctively, his fingers curl around the shell of her ear, thumb caressing its soft, mortal curve. And as his nails lightly press into the skin behind her ear, a hand grips at his wrist, and Jude is bolting upright, taught as a bowstring, shoulders squared as if to attack.

She pins his arm to the bed frame and uses her other hand to push his shoulder backwards. Cardan stiffens.

Her eyes, momentarily wild and unseeing, focus onto his face and she falters mid twist. Her hand on his wrist immediately relaxes, the other one trailing up to rest against the side of his neck, an apologetic frown already crossing her features.

"I'm sorry I–" she sees the stricken expression on his face and stops short – "what is it?"

Her thumb brushes the edge of his jaw and Cardan lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes stinging.The gesture is simple, one he hasn't gotten used to yet, but it is involuntary. The familiarity in her touch has him unspooling.

He covers her hand with his own and shakes his head in what he hopes is an assuring gesture, not trusting his voice at the moment, struggling to collect his thoughts. He knows he's doing it again. That old trick with the mask, trying to smooth its edges over his face. A game of hiding where no one seeks him out–even though he knows now that she will. She'd drag him by the scruff if it came to that. But old habits die hard.

A long moment of silence passes and he realizes that Jude is waiting for him to speak, gently stroking the inside of his wrist, entirely at odds with the smooth, unperturbed set of her face.

And yet, even in the near dark room, where the old wood of her eyes is illuminated only by a thin slash of dusky light, he finds in them a scrap of fear akin to his own–one he knows will take longer than anything else for them to wrestle with and have it buried along with the rest of those who have threatened this fragile peace.

He tucks an unruly strand of hair behind her ear, as he'd been meaning to do before, and presses his mouth to her temple, breathing in the familiar scent of verbena. "It's nothing. You're here." he whispers.

She tilts her head back to look at him, eyes searching, "Of course." She says, lacing their hands together, and then peers around to stare at the window. She waits for a moment while the branches recede to give a clear view of the sky, which is now a luminous ink blue. Humming in thought, she turns back to him and says, "We are to attend council in another hour or two."

"Yes." He answers tiredly, dragging a hand over his face.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to rest for a little while longer, no?"

Cardan smiles a little at that, already nestling back into the sheets and dragging her along "No, of course, it won't." He pulls her in to tuck her head under his chin, "Besides," he continues, "you'll require it if you have to deal with Randalin today."

At that, Jude groans into his chest and he can already feel the cogs turning in her head, coming up with more ways to outmaneuver the council. He chuckles into her hair and rubs her back, "Rest, first." He murmurs and she hums, sleep prodding at the edges of her voice again.

Primroses bloom along the edge of the bed frame, wilder and whiter than any other.

Right there, with his fearsome queen tucked under his chin, the king of Elfhame knows this too: That no fear could ever be stronger than the weight of her battle worn body in his arms. And even that pales in comparison to the ruthless glint in her eyes for when she wields her blade to kill.

#jurdan #jude x cardan #tfota #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the cruel prince #folk of the air #holly black #jurdan fanfic #poetry #books #writing #books and art #fantasy #fanfiction

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mistylakeee · 2 months

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Also MINOR SPOILERS can we talk about how Wren devoured with the whole “Jude you have a geas and a curse on you lolz what if I remove them.” Jude must’ve been shitting her pants. Can you imagine if Wren just removed Dain’s geas? Jude going back to being able to be glamoured? Her biggest fear ever? INSANE. The absolute power move that would be for Wren. I wouldn’t even know who to root for. And the fact Cardan didn’t even know about the geas or the curse? TEA. Don’t even get me started on the implications of Valerian’s half curse that I’ve literally thought about since reading the first book. IM EATING THIS BOOK UP AMD IM NOT EVEN DONE

#the prisoners throne spoilers #the prisoners throne #wren #oak greenbriar #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #oak x wren #support wren’s wrongs #jk wren can do nothing wrong #neither can Jude

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deathsweetblossoms · 1 year

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(Prince Dain) has seen something in me, something Madoc wouldn't see, something I have yearned to have acknowledged... - The Cruel Prince

I start to tremble all over, the adrenaline draining out of me. Courtiers, waiting for better battles, study my bruises and evaluate my prowess. No one seems particularly impressed. I have done my best, have fought my hardest, and it wasn't enough. Madoc didn't even stay to watch. - The Cruel Prince

vs:

"For a moment," (Cardan) says, "I wondered if it wasn't you shooting bolts at me." I make a face at him. "And what made you decide it wasn't?" He grins up at me. "They missed." ...So, too, can he say something that ought to be insulting and deliver it in such a way that it feels like being truly seen. - The Wicked King

#*GOODBYE*#I CANt HANDLE THEM ANYMORE #THROWING MYSELF AND ALL MY BOOKS OFF A CLIFF #JURDAN #TFOTA #THE FOLK OF THE AIR #otp: he’s flint you’re tinder #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king

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rabbitholessk · 1 month

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land soup (or ten year old Jurdan being kids in faerie before everything)

Jude stomps away from Madoc’s stronghold. Her and Taryn just squabbled ferociously and she needs to be as far from Taryn as possible. Taryn wore on her last nerve, especially after dealing with the cries of the new adoptive baby Madoc took in, along with a bride. Jude was due some much needed alone time and quiet.

The luster and frightening feel of Faerie has worn off ever so slightly after the three years her, Taryn, and Vivi have now lived here.

Ten years old, angry with her sister, and with one of her fingers healing where the tip had been bitten off a few odd weeks ago; Jude feels for the first time in a long time, like she is out of place. If she was in the mortal realm, she would have probably taken her bike and rode off somewhere to blow off steam. But alas, her bike is more than likely covered in a thick layer of dust in her family’s former garage. Or, maybe, a different kid was using her bike now.

She shakes the thought and forges on. Careful not to step on any suspicious mushrooms or plants. Jude is ever weary of any creatures looking at her through the trees so she keeps her head high and her focus forward.

She’s walked off farther than she ought to have, but finds herself grateful for it. After passing through the milkwood she happened upon a hidden lake, enshrouded by lazy willow trees and surrounded by flowers in every shade of blue and purple. No matter the horrors of Faerie, there were still these scenes that seemed to have come straight from one of the fairy tale books of her youth.

Jude decides to set up in this beautiful area for a while. Gathering rocks from around the small lake she skips them across the surface. Or attempts to. It’s been a while since she’s done this. It feels bittersweet. Her father had been the one to teach her how to skip rocks on their summer trips to the beach.

“What are you doing?” A commanding, yet curious voice questions over shoulder. To her embarrassment, she startles and whirls around, narrowly missing the mystery person's head with a thrown rock.

With quick reflexes she’s not able to study who the mystery person is, when said person is throwing the rock back at her. She ducks in time, then springs back up to find none other than the youngest Prince of Faerie’s piercing kohl eyes studying her.

“You.”

She’s familiar with Cardan. He’s in the academy with her and Taryn. They don’t interact all that often considering their difference in social standing.

“I command you to show me how to do what you were just doing.” The prince says snootily. Jude has the brief instance where she thinks she wants to laugh in his face or tell him off, but instead she bites her tongue. It was a bad idea to make enemies of the royal family. Respect for the Greenbriar line has been drilled into Taryn and Jude ever since Madoc took them in.

More like he murdered their parents, and kidnapped them. But in faerie, Jude has learned that might just be any other Tuesday for the Folk.

Jude rolls her eyes and trudges closer to the shore of the pristine lake.

“First we need to find some rocks.” She states, searching the bank and finding a small handful. To her surprise the youngest prince has gotten onto his hands and knees and is digging through the dirt. If a Prince of Elfhame digging through dirt is a shock, the tail emerging from behind him is an even bigger one.

She says nothing and waits for him to collect his rocks. She tucks the observation away for a later time, a question for Vivi, perhaps.

Jude shows him the motions and watches as Cardan attempts to skip them across the surface. She quickly gets bored when she realizes he’s going to be doing this for a while. His focus is seemingly stuck on perfecting the skill.

Instead, to kill more time, Jude trudges over to a decaying tree stump and takes up an act from her childhood that has been long forgotten. The urge to collect various pieces from nature and make a ‘land soup’ with the stump as the cauldron consumes her. It may be childish for someone whose age is now in the double digits, but she is alone, save for the Prince still tossing rocks. Nonetheless, she indulges on this small ounce of her lost childhood.

After collecting leaves, rocks, brambles, a collection of blue and purple petals Jude stirs them into the cauldron. She found a large stick to act as a stirring device and set to work. Watching with rapt attention as the different bits of nature become this hodge-podge of nasty within the stump, she fails to hear Cardan creep up behind her.

“What is that horrible mess?”

To her great embarrassment, once again, she jolts-- her stick cracks against the stump from the shock.

“It’s land soup.” She mutters.

“Your pardon?”

“It’s a game from my childhood.” She’s not exactly sure how much of her life the Prince knows about, so she only supplies the minimal answer.

“Ah.” He gets closer to the slop. “Have you considered adding water?” Jude swivels to look at him, astounded by his suggestion. If she’s read him correctly, he’s being playful. Before she can answer, Cardan is already rushing the few feet over to the lake. He gathers water in cupped hands, spilling some on the dash over to the stump.

Wordlessly, with two mirroring grins, they hobble back and forth from the stump and the lake with cupped hands of water. The smell becomes atrocious, a sure-fire sign you’ve made land soup properly.

“It smells awful.” Jude remarks, watching as Cardan uses her stick to swirl around the murky contents of the stump.

“It’s more appealing than most of my meals.” From the strangely serious demeanor he adopts, Jude cannot tell if the Prince is joking.

The sun is beginning to set below the horizon. Jude hadn’t realized how long she’d been away. She had tried to retreat when everyone else would have been asleep, completely disregarding why the Prince would ever be awake at this hour as well.

Cardan catches her studying the moon rising in the distance.

“Do you know your way home?” He questions softly. She nods. It’s growing dark now though, and she can’t see in the dark like the fae. The two still stand around the stump.

“I can’t see in the dark.” She admits.

“Madoc’s stronghold?” Cardan asks.

Jude pauses then utters an affirmative. Swiftly his hand wraps around her wrist, and he’s dragging her through the dark patch of forest, until she recognizes the heady smell of the milkwood, all the way until she sees the familiar torches of Madoc’s stronghold just beyond the tree line the two are tucked into.

She’s not sure what to say, or what to do with Cardan. In turn, he decides for both of them. Jude knows the honey laced sound of a glamour. She feels briefly infuriated and hurt, until he begins to speak.

“You will go to your room, sleep, and mention our meeting to no one. You will not remember what happened tonight, you were simply going for a walk and got turned around.”

Jude’s feet trample through the dark until she makes it to the door. Oriana ushers her in and up to her bedroom where Jude flops face first into her mattress. Exhausted with the smell of mud and flowers laced in her hair and clothes. When she wakes she craves honey cakes.

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #jude x cardan #jurdan #the cruel prince #fanfic #also on my ao3

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likecanyoujustnot · 3 months

Text

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 2: nearer

A/n: this part is a fair bit longer lmk if you wanna be tagged for the other parts

Part 1. Part 3

I stared at Taryn from across the room. She was laughing at something a courtier had said. I’d contemplated asking her if she’d heard from Jude, but as far as I knew she still thought Jude and I hated each other. And asking as to her well-being would be suspicious.

“Cardan.”

It took all my self control to not flinch at that voice.

I turned to him, “Locke.”

“You seem to be particularly gloomy tonight.”

I ignored him and looked at the faeries, all of them drunk or drinking, laughing and dancing. Happy.

“You could have you pick of any of them.” I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Maybe more than just one. Wouldn’t be the first time now would it?”

I wish Jude was here. I’d ask her to stab him. Not so bad that he would die, just enough to shut him up.

I’d been like that the past weeks. I’d sent the letter 8 days ago. She’d now been gone for 19 days. If past Cardan could see me know, moping over a mortal, fantasising about my former best friend getting stabbed, not even touching the wine in my hand, he’d laugh and sneer, call me pathetic.

“No it would not.” I still didn’t look at him.

“This mood wouldn’t have to do with a certain Duarte sister’s recent exile would it?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Locke,” I threw as much venom into his name as possible. “I exiled her, I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“Yes well, usually by now you’d be drunk out of your mind, a few lovely ladies draped over you and a gaggle of courtiers hanging off your every alcohol-slurred word.” He laughed. “Seems that that crown has made you rather boring.”

I wanted to throw said crown at him.

“Come join the party, a bed that big is surely too big for only one.”

There was only one woman I wanted in my bed. And she was currently in the mortal world.

“Perhaps you should be more worried about the amount of people who may be in your wife’s bed.” I threw a pointed glance at Taryn, standing awfully close to a green-haired faerie.

I would bet my title that Locke had not stayed loyal to his wife. The fae had twisted views on fidelity to one’s spouse, it was frowned upon, but also expected, especially among the likes of Locke, who believed they could do whatever they wished, I wouldn’t be surprised if Taryn took another lover to balance it all out. I had no intentions of ever betraying the trust of my wife.

Though I had already done that when I exiled her hadn’t I?

Locke didn’t even look at Taryn. Since we were both married to a Duarte sister, that technically made us brothers, though I would rather be drowned than ever acknowledge that to him.

“What my wife chooses to do with her spare time is none of my concern.”

Yes, like pretend to be her sister and trick the king into removing his general from his oaths, allowing him to do whatever he wants.

“Did you have any particular reason for bothering me Locke?” I looked at him, brows raised, unamused.

“Yes, about my birthday.”

“Your birthday is in five months.” That was it?

“Yes, I have something extravagant planned and I-”

I could see where this was going. “You are not using my gold to pay for your foolish personal revels, you have enough of your own.”

There was a flash of anger in his gaze as he said, “Very well. It appears some of Jude’s sensibility rubbed off on you,” and he left.

Good riddance.

I turned my attention back to studying Taryn. Everyone said they were identical, and they were, but I could tell the difference. Taryn didn’t seem to glow the way Jude did. Didn’t draw attention, didn’t make me want to do foolish things like declare how I felt for the world, risk war simply to get her back, do the things that haunted my most depraved thoughts.

Or maybe I couldn’t, since Taryn had fooled me. But I had been poisoned. And she had a strange quality to her skin.

I got up from the throne and left the party, walking to my room.

I was going to write another letter to Jude.

Locke was right, the bed was too big for just one. So I had to convince my wife to come back to me, to join me in that bed.

Jude,

Please come home, back to me, I need you

Why was putting my thoughts into words so difficult?

Maybe I should’ve been paying attention in school instead of getting drunk and spending half my time tormenting Jude and the other half staring at her and hoping no one noticed.

There had to be a reason she hadn’t come back didn’t there?

I assumed she was staying with Vivienne in the mortal lands, where Oak was as well. One would think if anything happened to her Vivienne would tell me, or at least tell Taryn, and if Taryn heard, Locke would, and he would undoubtedly lord it over me.

No.

Jude was stronger than that. She would never let anything in the mortal lands harm her, even if through nothing but force of will.

I wondered if her every waking moment was as filled with thoughts of me as mine were of her.

The guard had assured me that the last letter had made it to a messenger, so I didn’t see how she would not get it.

There was only one other reason she wasn’t coming back: me.

Had she felt that betrayed by the exile that she was staying away to spite me? Was the thought of being married to me, being my queen, that horrible that she didn’t want to come back? It seemed like something she would do.

Jude,

Since I cannot imagine there is much in the human lands to interest you, I can only suppose your continued absence in Elfhame is due to me.

I urge you. Come be angry at a nearer distance.

Cardan

I refrained from begging her to come back. Though if she didn’t respond to this I very well might.

If I had any clue where she was I’d go there personally. But I’d need to ask Taryn, and I did not want to talk to her.

This time I personally took the letter to a messenger I found scampering through a hallway. Half human male. Might be inclined to deliver a letter to another human.

“Make sure this gets to her.”

He nodded and took off, no questions as to why the king was sending a letter to his exiled seneschal.

It was out of my hands now.

All I could do was wait.

#cardans letters pov #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #folk of the air #the folk of the air #tfota

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bellarkeex · 11 months

Text

Depraved Thing [Jude x Cardan]

Cardan left Jude high and not dry all day, now he's paying for it.

☾ warnings: sex, oral sex [male & female receiving], marking, cardans a bottom, his tail makes an appearance, 18+

☾ read on ao3: here

☾ length: 1,016

☾ i couldn’t sleep so this happened :)

We barely manage to make it down the corridor keeping our hands to ourselves, almost giving every worker in the palace a show. Not that they could object. Cardan wouldn't either. I would just rather not.

The door to our chambers is hardly even closed before Cardans lips are on mine, my breath quickly becoming ragged as I blindly pull his clothes from his body. I would feel bad for our guards, knowing they can most definitely hear us, if my only concern wasn't my husband in this moment.

His swollen lips trail down my jaw to settle on my neck, leaving evidence of his love in his wake. Gripping one of my hands into the soft curls of his hair, the other into his bare back - I strain to hear the desperate whispers leaving Cardans mouth.

"Jude." He sighs against the forming bruise on my collarbone, discarding my dress to the floor.

Sinking to his knees before me, he continues to trail wet kisses across my breasts, hips, thighs. His mouth is everywhere except where I need it most. I look to where he's bowed before me as I attempt to stop slightly irritated moans escaping me, to see him savouring a devilish grin.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

I glare down at him as he meets my gaze, dark eyes watching me for a moment, before bringing his mouth between my thighs. Relaxing against the door, his tail coming to wrap around my ankle, furred tip brushing at my calf. Gasps escape my mouth as he slides a long finger into me, then another, tongue working at my nerves.

My skin burns with pleasure under his manipulation, losing more and more control as he continues his veneration.

"Cardan, I-." Breath betrays me as I shake against him and go to grasp the door, trying to keep myself upright, despite Cardan holding me steady.

"I know." He mouths against my inner thigh, still grinning to himself. "I know."

Yes. Yes, he does. All day, sneaking up behind me to whisper filthy things in my ear just to see me redden. Or his touch that's gone too soon because of conveniently timed council business, business he's never bothered himself with before, leaving me hot and bothered.

He returns to stand before me, lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist, slick leaking slightly onto his stomach. He holds my head in the crook of his neck, stealing the opportunity I kiss and bite my way from his pulse point to his pointed ear, while he carries me to our bed.

Cardan lowers me onto the embroidered covers, crawling to hover above me. He shouldn't be surprised, but a moment of shock flashes in his eyes as he ends up under me instead - being straddled at the hips.

"It was a very heinous thing, what you did today." I whisper against his mouth, refusing to kiss him.

"I have no idea which thing you could possibly be referring to, my wife," He feigns innocence, "I've done many heinous things today."

"Oh really?"

Before I let myself think twice, my fingertips lightly dust along his tail which has come to settle around my waist, keeping me close. A shiver runs through my king below me, breath catching in his throat as I graze the sensitive skin. Gold rims of his eyes disappearing, gaze consuming every inch of me that is bared above him.

"You don't have any idea? None at all?" A small laugh escapes me, as I fail to choke down the surge of power that overcomes me.

I move my other hand to gently scratch down his chest, before inching my way down his body - savouring every piece of flesh I can get my teeth on. I settle around his knees and reach for him.

Littering kisses to his swollen tip, I gaze up to see him open mouthed, breathless, and as beautiful as ever. In attempt to weave his hands in my hair, I take hold of his wrist pinning it to the bed.

Hollowing my cheeks around him, beneath me Cardans legs begin to shake and in turn I'm reminded about the faint shake of my own. His hands gripping the sheets, because I haven't let him hold onto me. He looks so pretty being bathed in the moonlight, fighting his own pleasure not to finish. Just when I feel him begin to twitch in my mouth, I come up for air.

"But, Jude-." he manages breathlessly. I only smirk down at him as I climb my way back up his body.

I release his hands which instinctively come to rest on my waist, I don't push them away. Honestly, I missed his touch even though my skin is alight under his. My hands pass over his chest and arms, mock soothingly, where chills have settled on his skin.

"Jude." He says my name like a prayer, over and over again, divinity on his lips. "Jude. Jude, please."

Pleading with me to give him release. The way he looks at me his cheeks flushed; I cannot deny him.

Gasps leave both our mouths as I slide him inside of me, stretching around him. Cardans eyes are heavy, as though he's fighting to keep them open against the pleasure, intent on watching me as I tip my head back and cling onto him.

Desperate sounds leave his mouth that he tries to silence between soft kisses. As he's pulling me more tightly against him, shocks of pleasure shoot down my spine to my core and I dip my forehead to rest against his.

We're both a shaking mess when we finish, neither of us wanting to let go of the other. So when Cardan pulls me onto his side keeping me in his arms, I let him.

"I am sorry I left you earlier." He whispers into my hair, which he's wrapping around his fingers. "But for this outcome I'd torture you again."

"Oh, I know." I reply dazed, tracing shapeless lines into his chest. "You depraved thing."

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jurdanhell · 1 year

Note

Okay so basically, I was re reading the chapter where Cardan asks Jude “and is it out of your system?” And Jude’s like “oh yea yea totally” sis, we all know that’s LIES 😂. I was just trying to imagine an alternate scene thinking.. what if she says no? Idk about anyone else but I think it would lead to basically chapter 15 part 2 so I was wondering if you could write a filthy something something 😂🥴 (like I mentioned before, no pressure)

I Will Know Nothing (Until I Know You)

Read it on AO3!

Word Count: 1,432

Rating: Mature

“And is it?" He asks. "Out of your system?”

I think of the blusher mushroom, the deathsweet, the wraithberry running through my veins with equal measure ferocity and instinct. We are alike in this way.

“No,” I say, because the indulgence of poison is one that I know greater than anything else.

I am unlearned at love and its making, but no matter how obvious that is to him, he does not let it show. Not when he guides my hands so carefully over him. Not when he redirects my nails to claw again at his back as he brings his mouth to the tender space just behind my ear. I suck my lip between the sharpest edges of my teeth, against the sound that rumbles in the back of my throat, because what this really is is a secret, and the more he knows is all the more he can use against me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to bleed.

The familiar sickness of poison roils through my gut, twinged with something else. A layer of sweat sheens over my skin and I am dizzy from the blood that rushes to my cheeks, my head, no doubt as diseased as what I’d ingested only earlier today. As infected as myself.

I tip my head back, again reminded of the things we’d done in that secret room behind the throne, and all the things we hadn’t. He brings his mouth to the hollow of my throat, pushing me back into the office in the Court of Shadows that I’ve taken as my own. He pauses only to push the door closed.

The dizzying absence from his hands on my skin leaves as quickly as it arrives, as though it was aware of how soon it would be replaced with another, equally intoxicating feeling.

Since my time in Faerie, I have grown very good at pretending. Pretending that my muscles do not sing from the acute pain from the swinging of my sword, pretending that it didn’t hurt every time I’d been made an example of being something lesser. Pretending that I do not feel as I do, hiding even from myself. I am not sure I keep the longing off my face, but with his hands drifting down the tie of my breeches, nose deep in the crook of my neck, I am not sure it matters.

Perhaps desire is like mithridatism, where I should be taking doses slowly, accumulating my body to the poison until it affects me no longer. Perhaps my overindulgence here will kill me as surely as any sharp blade.

It isn’t until he sinks down onto his knees, pushing the backs of my legs to the edge of the desk, mouth drifting across my navel that I decide that I do not care.

Religion in Faerie is scarcely discussed, brought up only with the slandering of poor fates and cursed as surely as any gambling man might blame the hand. There might have been gods, once, but anything infinite in an immortal mind is just as easily forgotten. But he slides my breeches down to my knees with such piety, pushing my legs apart with such reverence that I’m sure one of us has found it.

Something flutters in my chest as he brings his mouth to my center, looking up at me through his dark lashes. Not as though I ought to be the one praying, but as though this is the prayer. As though any noise I might make would make for choir, would carry the cadence of a hymn. He looks at me as though he means to memorize it, this moment. The shape of my very skin.

His hands move methodically against me, into me. There is strategy here yet, and I refuse to concede. I will not concede.

This time, I do not let my hands shake.

I bring one hand to his hair and knot my fingers so deeply I am not sure they will ever be free. I am not sure I want them to be. His tongue brushes flat against me, but it is the heat of his breath against my bare thigh that is my undoing. He moans my name against my skin, whispering dirty things I'm certain he would not say if his goal wasn't to make me give in. I will not give in.

I lean back against the desk, putting my weight on my elbow. I’m half-aware of something being knocked to the floor when he sinks lower to bring one of my legs over his shoulder.

There is an awful kind of pleasure in being granted what you’ve so desperately wanted, even if you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t. It seems we are both good at making terrible decisions.

This deep underground, it is too dark for plants to grow. There are no windows to allow moonlight to skim in, pooling like milk against the scarce furniture that was undoubtedly stolen for the home of thieves. That does not stop vines from snaking their way up the walls, cloying around any surface they can find purchase on. Surely, deep down in their making, they must know they were doomed to die the moment they sprouted. There is nothing for them here. No light, no water. No chance for survival.

That is what I tell myself as Cardan’s other hand slips beneath my shirt to palm at my breast. That is what I tell myself as I let him. There is no chance for survival. There is no way I would have survived this, anyway.

Maybe I can still take him down with me.

His finery is disarranged as I pull against his hair, beckoning him to his feet as I yank him roughly overtop of me, laying myself flat against the desk, my hair spilling over the edge. He looks dissatisfied, as though he were a cat whose cream I’d just stolen for no other reason than to be cruel.

I am, I know. But not for this.

His lips are swollen when I bring them roughly to my own, tasting myself from his mouth. It is a stupor that fills my lungs, my brain, working its way into my blood that controls me. My volition is not my own. I do not think it has been for a long while.

My hands go to his breeches, toying with the lace in the front, but not untying it. I do not know much, enough that he is aware of, but not so little that I am completely unknowledgeable. I refuse to think of the way he looked up to me, his mouth against the softest parts of my skin, drawing sensitive shapes with his teeth, his tongue.

A flower I do not recognize springs from the ivy that unfolds above us, a deep blue that might have been purple in the sun, trumpeting from its stem on the vine. Its yellow-white center does not shy away from the darkness of the room around us.

I move my hands to undo the buttons of his shirt with as much slowness as I can manage with his mouth working delicious cruelties over a soft spot on my neck.

The room is overcome with blooming buds in the darkness. One of my hands drifts over a knot of scars at his back, and I realize that it is not despite the darkness that they crest so fully, so openly, that it is in spite of it. That, maybe there is a kind of bravery in being so honest. In knowing the risks of a poison, and taking the plunge anyway.

He pushes himself against me in a way that is somehow more intimate than when we were both bare. It is not unlike when the clouds part from a silvered sky, letting the moonlight drink in the land, the faelights crashing up into the stars and melding into the air. Somehow, the unbrokenness of this moment is what is visceral, is so guarded by its profoundness that it will know nothing else. I am certain that when I open my eyes, I will see stars.

I am filled with a hatred so hot it warms me from the inside out, so bright that I might never truly be cold.

I hate that he is the one that makes me feel this way, and that the statement alone is as much honesty I can bare, even to myself. I am a coward.

My thoughts are splintering under the guiding action of his fingers, and I realize his clever poison is not simply along the sweat of his skin or tucked in between stolen kisses. It is in his words, his breath, and it is in me, too. And now, I am not sure I will ever be able to escape it.

Masterlist

i don't think i've ever written a first-person tfota fic. anyway i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. enjoy, sluts and whores <3

Tag List:

@cutekawaiihentaiboobies @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @whoviantalibah @snusbandxknifewife @goddess-of-writing @storiesandschemes @thesirenwashere @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @andromeddea @clockworkgraystairs @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @the-chick-of-the-air @dorkzrul @sassylunars @justabunchoffandoms @queenofgreenbriar @fandomfanatic987 @df3ndyr @brittneyal @woodsbeyond1 @clouds-and-peonies @mis-lil-red @firestarsandseneschals @b00kworm @bisexual-bibliophile @greenbumblebee @danaanruhn @acciomanorian @ireallyshouldsleeprn @vanessa172003 @janeslandrys @potterpasties @nahthanks @ahdiejajdjsiaksudjjssj @queen-of-demons-and-hell @thefolkofthefic @myunfortunatenightmare @reneereadsstuff @lordoftermites @figonas @aftg-tcp-soc4402 @dumble-daddy @greenbriarxrose @shadowhuntingdemigod @pollyaunt @kittkatandbooboo @savagelysarcasticsilence @romantic-loverr @teenyweenynightghost @bookcide

#i don’t know what to say for myself. so i simply won’t #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #jurdan #tfota #the wicked king #the folk of the air #the queen of nothing #tcp #cardan #tfota fic #jurdan fic #jurdan smut #jurdanhellwrites

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dietmountaindewb8by · 1 year

Note

I have finally thought of something! Maybe. I don't know, it just occurred to me. So my idea is that the reader is human and considering how the fae like and enjoy belittling and degrading humans - Cardan included - it could reach a point where reader feels as though she can't do anything correctly. So she just kind of curls into herself and she just feels completely hopeless with everyday life. If it's set before Cardan is king and they're all still in school, then it could be a massive declining in her grades and when she has to eat lunch she just doesn't in fear of being judged for it. I guess Cardan will take advantage of that and make her completely dependant on him. So basically, he's the asshole for making her feel like that in the first place but then he "redeems" himself by claiming he'll look out for her and essentially just takes the reigns on her entire life. Hope you're alright!

hi!

warnings: i’m wicked tired so this might be incoherent; food; mentions of food; allusions to weight loss; bullying; cardan actually being cruel; controlling cardan; cardan kinda treating you like a baby in the end

THE WORLD IS OURS

It was no secret that you were intelligent. More than that. You could be considered a genius by faerie standards, never mind mortal ones.

But it was no secret that your special quality had left you a long time ago, much like the light in your eyes and the love you held for yourself and the world. Everything had become so bleak with the vile words that dripped from his tongue so easily, every sentence branding itself into your head disturbingly.

At night it was all you could think of. And then, you realized, that he was right. Cardan was right, the disgusting boy who could never seem to leave you alone no matter how much you showed him that you were not worth his time. He only fought harder when he heard that.

You saw him less and less now that you had stopped trying. You hid somewhere in the back when you were in school; you no longer ate with the rest of your peers, instead moving somewhere else to mull over your failure. The death of all things good about you.

Every thought turned sour. Every day became rotten.

And it was all your fault.

~*~

It was no secret that you were his.

He had made it abundantly clear from the beginning. You did not respond well to it, turning him away with the smug look that always sat on your face, the righteousness that always hung around you like a cloak. It was addicting.

You were addicting.

You were lovely and smart and beautiful and you knew it, too. But the air of superiority that he wanted to crack, just slightly to worm his way into your heart, had shattered. His weak, weak human. So fragile, like a flower plucked from the ground.

You no longer ate with them. You no longer studied with them. You no longer smiled or laughed or even cried. He pushed you to your limit–even farther, for you had broken long before. It hurt him more than you would know.

Only when he saw how hollow your cheeks had grown, how dull your eyes had gotten had he realized what he had done, the transgressions he had so carelessly committed. He slammed his door when he had gotten into the castle. He had snapped pens over papers in which he had started letters to you, papers which he had just written your name hundreds upon hundreds of times.

“My sweet angel,” he whispered, tracing the familiar letters of your name over again with his finger, blackened with ink. “I will not allow you to languish. I will atone for my sins just as you have for yours. I swear.”

~*~

You did not expect to see Cardan Greenbriar sitting on your picnic blanket with a basket, free of his usual posse, but not free of a scowl.

It was not a welcome sight.

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking down your nose at him, lying on his side, lounging in your sanctuary. While it was open, it was still yours. He would not take that too.

“What are you doing?”

“That–I’m sitting down. On my blanket. Yours is over there, Cardan.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your arms crossed defensively. He only smiled, ironically soft. You could not look angry if you tried. You were too tired, too weakened for a show of strength. You knew that better than anyone.

“Nicasia can keep it company. Have you eaten today, darling?” he asked, turning away from you, opening the basket. He put his hand inside, but turned to you before he could. He shrugged, his eyes widening comically. “Well? Sit down, won’t you? Lunch doesn’t last forever, dearest.”

You ignored the pet name, sitting down at his command. Ridiculous, you thought. It was your blanket.

“This is my blanket,” you said again. You mentally slapped yourself. Dumb. No wonder he thought you were dumb.

“I’m well aware of that. Now eat something, won’t you?”

“I’m not hungry.” You were. But you would not eat in front of him. You would not be compared to an animal again.

“I wasn’t asking.”

~*~

Cardan was suffocating. Once upon a time he had despised you. Now he was treating you like he would someone under his care.

At the beginning of the day, just before you left for school, he would be there, holding food and demanding you take his arm. Then, you two would share a blanket during your lessons. His arm would be around your waist and he would ask if you were too cold. Then you two would eat together. There would be more lessons, and then he’d walk you home. He’d leave you with a kiss on the forehead.

But he would not quite leave. Not really.

He would return later in the night. He would spend hours with you. He’d rub your back as you fell asleep. Sometimes, he’d even sleep with you, leaving you in the morning.

He was always there.

You had not known a moment without him. Not a moment without you being taken into his arms, being told that you were the most exquisite creature to roam the Earth, not a moment without his lips leaving your skin.

It needed to end.

~*~

“Cardan, why can’t you just hate me again! It’s suffocating! You despise me, what are you doing?!?”

The crown on his head was tilted, but it did not take away from the poise he oozed. He had given up drinking months before, becoming colder to the world. But he never seemed to not soften when you walked into the room, demanding you sit with him.

“Darling–”

“No. I’m not your darling. You need to stop, King Cardan.”

“You are really referring to me as king when you are queen?” He had stolen the crown that sat atop his head. He had killed off his brothers when they had threatened you. His father died and he had stolen that bloody, jeweled crown. “Stop this nonsense, dear, and sit with me. It’s getting late, and you’re not thinking straight.” He got up from his throne, swiftly moving toward you. He gathered you up in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Come on, darling, you must be tired.”

“I am thinking straight.” You struggled in his hold to no avail. “My head is more than clear. You hate me. Go back to hating me. There are far too many reasons for you to hate me rather than treat me like this.”

“You deserve everything I offer you, sweetness. You deserve every ounce of affection I give you and more. The world will be yours whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it. I want to go home. Cardan, please–”

“You are home.” You were swept off your feet. “Now come on. We should go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

#cardan greenbriar #cardan greenbriar x reader #cardan greenbriar x you #cardan x reader #cardan x you #dark cardan greenbriar #dark cardan #dark cardan x reader #dark cardan x you #tfota #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the cruel prince x reader #tcp #tcp x reader #tcp x you

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visd3stele · 8 months

Text

Request (by @folkloregirljude ): Hello :) You could do a story of Jude and Cardan taking care of little Oak and jealous because Cardan steals his sister's attention.

TW: none, just cute, pure fluff

A/N: this is happening separate from the canon of the new book, a bit divergent from the canon of the trilogy as well. ALSO, i know it's been months, i'm SO SORRY...i got some medical issues on my hands that are solved now, so I hope this is worth the wait

also, I don't remember if Oak had hooves as well or just the little horns, but in this fic he has both.

Mine! No, mine!

The Fae Folk is not prone to change. And yet, multiple changes surveyed their world in the span of a few months. Their king died, the royal family butchered, the drunkard Cardan – out of all people! – became king and, after a brush with war against the Mer Folk, Jude Duarte became his queen.

Queen of Elfhame. Jude didn't know what to make of the title. She figured out how she feels about other titles in her life: Seneschal, she quite liked, having hidden her true influence at Court in the shadows, spy gave her a thrill for sure, but never without the dissapointment that came with it after failing to be a knight, wife, after a long time, she accepted with an embarrasing leap of her heart.

But queen, that she has yet to figure. It wasn't part of her plan. And, even though she learned to cheerish the gift of Elfhame as it accepted her in its heart without guilt or shame, even though she could see how much her husband thrived under the crown, Jude simply couldn't make peace with the title. It wasn't hers. Nor Cardan's. In her mind, it still belonged to Oak, hers and Cardan's both baby brother. Because that was the plan!

The more she looked at the little fae, playing with Cardan in the garden – jumping over his tail as if it was a skipping rope he used to love in the mortal land – the more Jude begin to doubt the plan.

"Hey, Jude," the young fae called out of breath, excitement overcoming the tiredness. "Look what I can do!"

Oak bounced from foot to foot over the lazy slash of Cardan's tail in the air, turning around and switching sides in a chaotic, funny dance. The Queen of Elfhame felt the corners of her mouth twitch despite herself. She approached the pair, coming to rest her arms on her husband's shoulders as he hug him from behind.

"That's impressive, Oak!" She said, ignoring the way Cardan's hair tickled her neck as he leaned his head back to look at her. His beautiful, deadly wife.

Cardan smiles up at her, reaching his fingers tentatively to brush over Jude's cheek. The movement spelled her, for Jude leaned into his touch, closing her eyes to enjoy the serene calmness of the moment for what seemed to be the first time in her life since arriving to Elfhame.

"Mmm," Cardan mused happily. Leaning even more to press a kiss to his right below his wife's chin. His focus shifted entirely on Jude, forgetting all about Oak and their game.

"Hey!" The young fae protested. "I wasn't done. Jude, you have to see this. Vi showed me humans dancing like this."

"Of course, Oak."

Jude pushed her husband's shoulder playfully, if only a little bit too harsh – force of habit, she supposed – pressuring him to humor their little brother.

With an amused roll of his eyes, Cardan obeyed. "Anything for you, my cunning queen."

Heat climbed all the way to Jude's ears, pushing her heart to beat faster than she could keep up with.

Oak resumed his little skipping dance. It looked more and more put together by the second, Jude noticed now that she was paying attention. Or trying to, at least. But Cardan could never miss an oportunity to touch his wife. He never quite believed that luck shone mercifully over his head in earning Jude's affection. And now that no threat loomed ovet their heads and the land claimed her as its queen and she didn't need him, Cardan needed the physical reassurence that Jude meant it when she confessed to loving him more than ever.

"You look esquiviste, as always." He pured, trailing his hand up and down the back of her neck.

Redder than a Redcape's bloodied cape, Jude snaped her glare down to Cardan. "Stop that," she snarled. "Oak..."

"... is taking a lot of your attention lately."

And it was true. The weeks following Jude's official coronation, she invited her family to stay at the palace. She couldn't bare the nauseting feeling of not knowing where they are, if they are safe. And having them so close under her nose was easier than sending the Roach or the Bomb to spy on them.

"Oh? Is that jealousy I hear, my king?"

And just like that, Cardan's semblance of control faded into nothing. He would never admit it, but being king has been something he cherrished, despite the dire circumstances that led to and conditioned his reign. He liked the mind games the Court required of him and all the ways he discovered he could help and protect Elfhame without shedding blood or lifting a sword. Hearing the title fall through his Jude's lips in earnest love and admiration – more than he could have ever hoped for – untied any thread of decorum he sewed.

Cardan stumbled over himself as he rose in one hurried jump to cup his wife's face in his hands. An indignat huff from Oak, however, put a stop to the kiss he meant to share with Jude.

"Cardan!" The kid complained. "You had Jude all day yesterday at the meeting. Let me show her my game!"

"Later, kid," Cardan grumbled.

"Now!" Oak countered, stomping his little hooved foot, crossing his arms and leveling Cardan with all the authoruty he could muster.

The High King was having none of it. He moved behind Jude, wraping his arms around her waist and his tail all the way up to her calf. He rest his head atop hers, fully taking advantage of his height. And stuck his toungue out at Oak.

"Jude's my wife."

"She was my sister first!" And with that crying battle, Oak marched towards the royal pair. He stomped onto the fluffy end of Cardan's tail that rested on the side of Jude's foot, trying to free his sister from her husband's grip when the latter yelped and retreated in pain.

Cardan recovered swiftly, though, and grabbed Jude's arm before Oak could pull her away. "Go play, kid."

"Isn't the time of your noon drink?"

"You little..."

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Jude, who so far has been watching the scene with an awed amusement settled on her face, broke free from her boys. "How about I spend some time with Oak now and you," she waved dismissingly at Cardan, "put together one of those surprise dinner dates you're so fond of for when Oak falls asleep?"

The High Queen of Elfhame didn't let out any space for arguments, despite her tone being inquiring. The rest of the day would go exactly as she said it would. Because, truth be told, she wasn't Oak's or Cardan's, they were both hers.

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #oak greenbriar #jude x cardan #jude and cardan #jurdan #my writing #my fic #jude and oak #tfota fic #tfota fanfic #fluff #jurdan fluff

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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months

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Can I request a cardan x reader fic? Anything you want to write! Just gimmi my baby there isnt much of him on this app.🥺

Weeping heart

Summary: Y/n has seen cardan go through lovers like they're wrappers of chocolates. One in his hand before the previous is even in the dustbin.

Now he has found Jude, and she does not know what to do.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: anon thank you so much for this request! i love you so much for this. It was such a good writing exercise honestly. This is mainly pining, maybe angst.

Also, this marks the beginning of me writing for characters outside of the acotar universe, so I'm very excited

also I didnt tag anyone because the general taglist i have was for acotar.

(i might be down to write a part 2 👀)

(not proofread)

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

She bit her lip as she stared up at her best friend, trying to contain the smile that threatened to overtake her features.

"Let me see that smile, beautiful." He grinned lazily at her, his dark eyes twinkling under the rays of sunlight that penetrated the thick canopy of leaves above their head. They were currently seated under a weeping willow, hidden away from the whole world outside. Where only the two of them existed, and nothing else mattered.

The place was special to Y/n and Cardan. This was where the two of them would meet all the time, just the two of them, away from their friends and family. In here, they didn't have to pretend, didn't have to act like everything was okay. They could be themselves, and not care about getting hurt.

He leaned closer to her, searching her eyes, his eyes and features softer than Y/n had ever seen before.

"Shut up." She mumbled, but that action had her lips splitting into that smile she was trying so hard to supress.

His grin widened. "There we go."

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb absently brushing her lower lip, his gaze following it with a hungry look. Then his eyes lifted to hers, a question in them.

She dipped her chin almost imperceptibly.

That was enough for him, and he leaned forward, his lips getting closer and closer to hers.

She let her eyes fall shut.

But the kiss never came.

•○🌑○•

She opened her eyes, wondering why he hadn't yet kissed her, and found herself staring at the ceiling of her room.

She blinked blearily, wondering what the hell happened, and then she realised.

It had been a dream.

She closed her eyes again, heaving a sigh as she willed herself to go back to sleep, back to that dream, hoping he'd kiss her before she woke up again.

Of course, that was very nearly impossible.

Because someone decided in that moment that it would be a good idea to knock on her door.

She was certain she knew who it was.

Still she called out, demanding the identity of the knocker.

The answer was immediate. Cardan.

She groaned lowly, dragging her hands down her face.

He didn't wait for her to let him in. The permission wasn't ever needed between the two. That hadn't changed. Yet.

The next moment, he had barged in through the doors, a grin on his stupid face.

She sat up, trying to look anywhere but his face. Heavy emphasis on trying.

"Y/n, guess what happened."

"I am not in the mood, Cardan."

She winced internally. She was being cruel. He had done nothing wrong. It was not his fault he didn't know of her feelings. She had no right to be rude to him, especially when he was so excited about something.

He wasn't bothered by her lack of enthusiasm. He simply plopped down on her bed as she climbed out of it, getting ready for the day as he launched into a story of how after last night's revel, Jude had told him to wait in their bedchambers while she walked into the closet, her skirts swishing around her legs.

How she had retuned without it.

Y/n tried not to pay attention to the details, but she couldn't help it. She had never been able to ignore what Cardan said, never been able to let anything he said go unheard. He had spent nearly all his years being unheard because no one considered him worthy of their time.

She had long ago decided that she was not going to be one of those people.

She heard everything, and her torturous brain created all the images Cardan's words conjured. Her traitor of a heart clenched, but she ignored it.

"That's great Cardan." She said when he finished speaking, and when she looked at him, he was practically glowing with happiness.

Y/n felt guilty for being jealous of the mortal who had everything Y/n ever wanted, but she couldn't bring herself to care when her heart was breaking into pieces everyday.

"It feels like I've waited for this an eternity. Never thought I would get to have Jude in my arms."

She gave him a smile. "I need to meet up with some generals this morning. I need to leave."

He nodded happily, straightening from where he'd been lying on her bed. She watched him walk out of her room, a knot forming in her throat, her resolve hardening.

She needed... she knew what she needed.

•○🌑○•

Jude had her eyebrow raised, and it concerned Y/n how a mere mortal's judgement could make her nervous.

"Tell me again why you want to go on this mission?"

Y/n reigned in a frustrated sigh. "There is no real reason. I just wish to explore the Elfhame more."

The look Jude gave her told her she saw right through the act. But she didn't push the mater.

"There has been rumours of a rebellion on the other side of Elfhame. If you really want to go on this mission, then you need to know that this is an incredibly long and dangerous mission. You'll not only have to investigate the place, but also squash any hint of rebellion you find."

Y/n gave Jude a smile. "Sounds amazing."

"Sure it does." Jude's eyes narrowed as she continued. "If you need more time away to, as you say, to explore, then after you finish this quest, have a tour around Elfhame and meet up with people who have associated with Madoc before. Make sure they are not plotting something behind our backs."

Y/n dipped her chin in a nod. "When can I leave?"

"Before the week ends."

"So does that mean I can leave right now too?"

If possible, Jude's eyes narrowed further and she stood. At that moment, the door behind Y/n opened, and she stiffened as the smell of his perfume reached her.

"Y/n! I thought you were in the meeting with the generals. What are you doing here?"

Y/n smiled stiffly, turning to look at Cardan.

"I had something important to discuss with Jude." She gestured with her hand.

Cardan nodded, as if that was the most understandable thing in the world.

"What were you talking about?"

"Nothing-"

"She is leaving on a long mission-"

Jude and Y/n spoke up at the same time, and Y/n had to resist the urge to smack her forehead.

Cardan's head swung towards Y/n, and he stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

Y/n turned to Jude, letting some of the fury at her secret being revealed show in her eyes. And then she smiled tightly. "Could you send that list of people and areas where the rebellion is rumoured to be to my room? I need to begin packing."

Jude's eyebrows were high, but she nodded. Y/n bowed, then turned on her heel and strode away, ignoring Cardan and the way he was trying to gain her attention.

As she left the room, she heard him following and calling for her, but she ignored that too.

Just the way she had always ignored her weeping heart, the one that beat solely for Cardan.

The one that was broken beyond repair now.

•○🌑○•

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