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“Why do all those things, Cardan? Was it just to feel powerful for two seconds?”
He hesitates. Sneers, the way he always does whenever there is a lie coating his tongue and he realizes he cannot spit it out. And then, “I wanted them to see me. Because no one does.”
“I do. I see you.”
| post-The Cruel Prince |
Words: 7362
Rating: Mature themes
Genre: Angst/Fluff
A/N: This fanfic was wholly inspired by this amazing, completely mind-blowing fanart of Jude and Cardan by @morgana0anagrom. Her art, besides leaving me speechless, makes me want to write all the time. And so this little piece happened. Sorry for my lack of posting lately, but I hope you guys enjoy this nonetheless. Happy reading!
read it on ao3 | masterlist | headcanons page | ask box
A/N: You asked for part two, and you shall receive. If you haven’t read part one, it’s linked above! This may or may not be more than two thousand words, but I couldn’t help myself. I really wanted to explore Jude and Cardan’s struggles and insecurities in their relationship post QON. Hope you guys like it :)))
Trigger Warnings: Mild Cursing (Let me know if there is anything I missed)
~~~
Jude wraps her hands around the warm tea Vivi made for her.
Vivi watches her expectantly. “So?”
Jude sighs. “Just… give me a second. I need to think.”
Vivi nods and moves to clear away the dishes drying next to the sink.
Angst Prompt #3: "No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry."
Fandom: TFOTA
Ship: Jurdan
Masterlist | Prompt List
------------------------------------------------
The High King of Elfhame feels a fissure start to build in his semblance of a heart as he gazes upon the downturned face of his wife standing before him. The picture that she paints is tragic and beautiful, her umber hair loosely trailing down her back over her ivory nightgown, her face turned down and away from the moonlight shining through the window, her usually fiery eyes hidden from view. Just seconds ago she had changed his life with her words and he’d been glowing and luminescent, the excitement mixed with trepidation racing through his body like the finest of wines but now the air around them is cold and damp, uncertainty and confusion taking over his euphoria.
There’s a silence that he doesn’t know how to break. Even the drapes on their shared four poster bed make no noise as the wind rips through them and the whole atmosphere is quiet and still, a stark contrast to the panic and turmoil rising within him with every passing second.
He can’t take much more of this, he doesn’t have the strength to and he needs to change this, to fix this, to bring back the laughter and the happiness. Before he can demand that she speak, tell him, help him, his pointy-tipped fae ears pick up on the low sounds of a sob. A hitched breath.
He steps forward right up in front of her, desperate. “Jude? Jude look at me.” He hears the anguish in his voice. “Please.”
Finally, she meets his stare, her eyes glistening as she blinks hard against the reluctant tears starting to trail down her cheeks. Gently, he reaches out to catch one of them, absorbing her sorrow with his fingertips.
“No, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry. I never know what to do.”
She lets out a shaky breath and attempts a small watery smile and the fissure in his heart starts to heal. He cradles her face and leans down to be closer, searching her closed expression. His wife so rarely broke down, always putting up a brave front, but in moments like this, despite his sadness on her behalf, he’s also grateful to be the only one that she would remover her armor for, the only one who would ever see the mortal High Queen of Elfhame so vulnerable.
“My Darling Villain, what is it? Are you unhappy about this?”
The question hurts, the idea that Jude doesn’t want this, but he hopes she can change her mind. He’d thought of their possible future children before of course, and it had always felt so far away, something exciting but not pressing. Now that the reality was in front of him it was frightening, alarming, maddening, delightful, wonderful; it was many many things.
“It’s not that I’m not happy. I am - I think.” Her expression is softer now, her tears slowing and her voice is strong, all good signs. “It’s only...Well, look at us Cardan! We were two broken halves that miraculously fit together, what do we know about good parenting? I was raised by a blood thirsty Redcap that I no longer speak to and you by an uncaring mother and absent father, how could we possibly raise children of our own without messing them up!”
She had a point. Neither one of them had had loving childhoods, their parents either dead or as good as. Still, if there was one thing he was determined to do now that he was High King with Jude as his queen, it was to write his own destiny. A prophecy had caused his pain but in the end Jude had helped make it his salvation. She herself was a mortal, a mortal who had gone on to become the Queen of the Fae, something that no one would ever have imagined before. Yes, their younger days had left them undeniably scarred and beaten down but not broken, never broken. There’s not much he need reassure her about, not much he needs to help her with but over this, he can.
“Jude, listen to me. You and I, yes, we have our scars. But we also have the power to be who we want to be. Look at where we are now and look at where we started. We have the power to create our own fates, which means that we have the ability to raise our children up together in the way that we want to, regardless of how our own guardians raised us. Will we have some navigation issues along the way? Probably. But will we always try to do our best by our kids and love them unconditionally? Absolutely. And that, My Queen, is how I know that we won’t mess them up. At least, not too badly.”
Her brown eyes are wide, the tear tracks beneath them already drying. A corner of her tantalising lips lifts up. “When did you get to be so wise?”
He smirks, grateful for the levity that was starting to come back, chasing away the tumult. “I’ve always been so, it’s not my fault you were determined not to admit it.”
She shakes her head and laughs and the sound unleashes a warmth inside of him. Smiling now, he wraps his arms around her small frame and pulls her close, breathing in the woodsy scent of her hair and dropping a kiss to the top of her head, love and contentment welling up inside of him like a waterfall.
--------------------------------------
Omg @cupcakesandkittens, I'm so sorry for how long this took, I wasn't quite decided on what I would do for this prompt but I kinda like how it went and I hope you do too💕 Thank you for being such an awesome mutual🌻
Tagging: @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln, @thewickedkings and @kittkatandbooboo 💓
*Please let me know if you'd like to be added to or taken off of my taglist.
A Jurdan commission for @brambleberrycottage, which was ordered in following words: as magnificently, awesomely outfutted as you please, reprehensibly in love, dangerous as hell, and indisputably the rulers of Elfhame
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Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @nite0wl29 @tot-le-matin (if I forgot to tag someone I’m so sorry and please let me know!)
He was gone. Cardan. Her husband. Gone. It was her fault.
She’d cut the snake’s head off. Because she had to.
Because there was no way on earth she could’ve let Cardan live trapped like that forever, in snake form, with that bridle tied to her. Prisoner.
So she had decided to free him the only way she could. By killing him.
Jude knew that if Cardan could talk to her he’d tell her the same thing. To destroy him instead of letting him be a threat to Elfhame, to their people. He would have told her that it was the right thing to do. And that she shouldn’t feel guilty.
But as the snake’s head fell to the ground, so did she. She fell to her knees watching the body slowly turn smaller and smaller. Until it took the size and form of a man. A beheaded man.
White noise rang inside her head.
There would not be more clever riddles from him. No more mischievous winks across the table. No more soft hands tracing her skin while he whispered her name over and over to her ear.
She felt tears rolling down her face and let out a cry of pure rage and despair.
Just some Jude/Cardan fluff inspired by the Folktober 2020 prompt (I am phenomenally late to the party). Set after QON. There’s some sparring, some magic, and some making out.
((One-shot. 3820 words. Just fluff. Heat level: somewhere between mild and medium))
[Read on AO3]
———————————————-
“I thought I might find you here,” Cardan’s familiar voice says from behind me, startling me and breaking my concentration. I lower Nightfell and turn to face him.
“You could have tried to make a little noise when you entered the room. It isn’t wise to startle someone with a sword in their hand,” I say, pushing my sweat-dampened hair out of my face.
“Perhaps. But you didn’t so much as point it at me, so perhaps I needn’t worry whether you’re armed or not,” he grins.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t stab you,” I retort. He merely hums in response, and I wonder what the truth is. Whether he believes I would or I wouldn’t, he’s unwilling to say.
summary: Cardan Greenbriar knows that to earn a Queen’s adoration, one must accomplish three things: first, one must bow; second, one must kneel; third, one must love her unconditionally. And he’s all too pleased to tick every box. | post-tqon
words: 4145 | Rating: explicit
Other Jurdan works by yours truly:
Back to You : one | two*
I See You
We Will Still Have Each Other
In the End
A Restless Ocean
Colours
Like Love
****
masterlist. ask box. read it on ao3.
***
The autumn equinox painted the isles of Elfhame shades of orange, yellow and brown, the warmth apparent even during the darkest hours of night. Though the last forest-green leaves had already fallen from their branches, and were now crumbling between the steps of deer and squirrels, the remainders of summer could still be felt in the gentle, warm breezes and balmy nights.
From inside the massive mound where the Palace of Elfhame stood, came sounds of revelry. Fae and creatures alike joined hands in circle dances to bring forth both luck and happiness in the upcoming season. But any reason to throw a party would always suffice.
Through panes of smooth crystal came dawn’s light, mixing with the candles burning in every corner of the hall and giving the Palace a dim, almost eery atmosphere. Behind a glass of hazy smoke, the Queen of Faerie sat on her throne, her cheeks red from dancing and from the heat. And though her King was quite busy pulling strings with other courts, his eyes kept straying to her – much to her obliviousness.
His spine straightened when he saw that blush on her cheeks.
hi!! would you write another jurdan nsfw? u could surprise us w the prompt :)
my friend what kind of prompt is just you coming up in here like MORGAN WRITE ANOTHER you know if you think you can just order me around like this I'm here to tell you you absolutely can.
I'm Not Sorry
Cardan hates to apologise.
This is one of the most irritating things about her husband, since he is an idiot and frequently the source of Jude's ire.
In the beginning, Jude would simply wrestle him to the ground and hold a knife under his chin.
"Apologise," she'd snarl, honey curls falling around his face and hot breath bathing his infernal cheekbones. Cardan would glare balefully up at her with his nails in her wrists.
"I'm sorry," he'd spit, and Jude would let the blade bite into his neck for just a second longer before releasing him.
But this time, she is tired. She is sick of chasing down her apology like a peasant hunting their dinner; after all she is a queen now and doesn't run unless someone is after her.
Not to say that Cardan will be allowed to get away with this. Clemency is not in Jude's nature.
It's just that they've been married a year now and Jude has other ways of making Cardan behave. For instance, she knows that the King of Elfhame is singularly jealous.
By and large, Cardan views displays of emotion as weakness. He is a dramatic creature prone to fits of rage and delirium, but on the throne his legs sprawl and his head lolls and he is only ever irreverent. Irritable at best. Fae would prefer that you only know their true feelings after you have been incapacitated, and Cardan is nothing if not fae.
Of course, a mortal like Jude knows all about being fae.
And so it is that Jude arrives to tonight's revel fifteen minutes late and on the arm of another.
The great doors of the hall open and the crowd parts as she enters. Jude almost forgets the handsome figure on her left, as she puts on her cruelest smile for her subjects. She loves this part.
When they reach the dais, Jude simply levels her gaze at Cardan, and leads her escort toward the dance floor. Her husband inclines his chin to them, and shows no other sign of acknowledgement. But his eyes burn bright in the dim room.
If she is completely honest, Jude cannot remember this young fae's name. She merely picked him out of Grima Mog's army. Strode into the training ring, beat him in a sword fight and told him he was to be in attendance tonight. Jude is sovereign, and he is here.
All fae learn to dance but the soldiers must be exceptionally skilled. Dance and swordplay are not so dissimilar, after all. It is no effort at all on Jude's part to be twirled around tonight. She is wearing a sunset coloured gown that Cardan had made for her, with gold threaded through her hair and her ears and on her fingers. Her hands rest lightly on the shoulders of the fae soldier, who is both taller and broader than Cardan.
The soldier has very little in his expression, but his hands play at her waist. She may be Queen, but she is also a woman in his arms. Looking past him, Jude can see Cardan's eyes tracking them across the floor. Jude ignores him, and lets her head fall back in laughter as the soldier picks her up off the floor in the next turn. He is delighted at her response, and spins her faster and faster as the music gets dizzy with them.
The song changes abruptly and Jude is torn away from the soldier. She lands in the arms of a fae with enormous, curling horns rising from just behind his hairline, and grins at the soldier, who has been snatched up by a girl with gossamer wings. He shrugs, and Jude twists her arms around the neck of her new partner.
And so the night wears on. The music lilts and Jude dances with an endless parade of fae, and although her feet hurt she is well used to the feeling and will not stop until they do. Jude is thrown from one embrace to another, beaming in the face of each, until the song changes again and the next arms around her are Cardan's.
Cardan's feet are steadfast on the floor and Jude hits his chest like a brick wall. Her hair falls into her eyes as she stops suddenly, and looks up at him. "A word, wife," Cardan says tightly. The words ooze through his clenched teeth.
Without waiting for a response, Cardan hauls Jude off the dance floor by the arm, behind a velvet curtain and pushes her so that her back hits the wall. "Ow Cardan, what are you-"
But before she can finish her sentence, Cardan is pressing her back with his whole body and his lips are covering hers. It is long moments before he pulls back, only to wind his arms around her waist and push his thigh between her legs.
"What are you doing?" Jude finally gasps. Cardan doesn't answer, just kisses her again while his fingers dig into her sides and a growl rumbles in his throat.
"You're a cruel and wicked creature, my lady," Cardan murmurs, as his hand finds the slit in her skirts and slides up her thigh.
"Why's that, husband?" Jude asks, her head tipping back to give him better access to her neck.
"Because you delight in my discomfort. The sight of you in someone else's arms is a torture I will not bear." With these words, Cardan bites down into Jude's shoulder, but she pushes him back roughly. Her eyes narrow as her chin lifts.
"Do you deny you deserve it?" she asks him. Cardan looks affronted, then he frowns.
"I'm not sorry," he sneers.
"Exactly," Jude says, and makes to leave the alcove.
But Cardan catches her and shoves her back against the wall.
"And where might you be going?" he hisses.
"To my poor neglected guests," Jude replies. "Do you know I invited a soldier here personally and yet I've barely seen him."
"Oh you've seen him," Cardan growls. His hands push at Jude's dress, sliding the skirts up so he can grip her thighs. "Seen him, touched him, smiled at him. Hateful," he spits.
"Ought I not to?" Jude asks, all feigned innocence.
"Don't forget to whom you belong, mistress mine," Cardan says, and he lifts her up against the wall before kissing her again.
Jude forgets herself for the minute, and her ankles cross behind Cardan's back. Cardan rolls his hips against her, and it does not escape her that he is often hard when he is angry. Jude yanks at the roots of his hair, and Cardan thuds her harder against the wall. His tongue lashes against hers, and their teeth click together in the dark.
"Jude," Cardan murmurs.
"Apologise," she whispers.
"Don't make me," he begs.
"Fine," Jude replies, then lets go of him and her lovely golden shoes land on the floor. Cardan swears, but drops to his knees before she can step away, and pulls one of her legs over his shoulder. Jude falls back against the wall, and he steadies her with a hand on her hip, before laying his tongue against her pussy.
Jude cries out in surprise, and her hand lands on his shoulder. Cardan strokes back and forth insistently, not giving Jude space to think. Her focus narrows to his mouth between her legs, and the way he is now sucking on her clit.
"Don't go out there," Cardan says between movements. "Make this my apology. Only don't dance with anyone else tonight."
Jude doesn't say anything, just laces her fingers through the curls on his head and rocks her hips forward. Cardan keeps his tongue moving while he slides a finger inside her, pushing in and out while flicking over and over her clit. The music outside swells and drowns out Jude's moans, as she slides lower down the wall.
"Isn't this enough?" Cardan asks, watching her face as he adds another finger and rubs it against that rough patch inside her. "Come on my fingers, and tell me I'm forgiven."
Cardan kisses the inside of her thighs, bites softly down as he sucks warm bruises onto her skin and moves his fingers steadily back and forth.
"No," Jude gasps. "You're not forgiven."
"Come anyway," Cardan says, and pushes against her clit with his thumb. Jude breaks apart so sweetly, just like she always does, and Cardan kisses the climax from her pussy before standing up and hooking her leg around his waist.
Jude doesn't register his movement, isn't aware of him pulling himself out of his trousers and tilting her hips forward. She just knows that one moment she is shattering and groping at the cold wall behind her for something to hold on to, and the next Cardan is inside her. Her teeth clack together as she is stretched around his cock, and then his cheek presses to her temple as he fucks her.
The leg Jude is standing on starts to buckle, but Cardan holds her up. Fucks her harder, already wet from his tongue and her first orgasm. Jude's thoughts run together, and when Cardan speaks in her ear the words seem to emerge from the shadows.
"This is how you know you're mine," he murmurs. "Because no one makes you feel like this. Because even when you hate me, even when in that hall you might have any fae you want, it's me you're fucking behind a curtain and you don't care who can see or hear you. Isn't that right?"
"Yes," Jude breathes.
"Now tell me you were never going to take that fucking soldier to bed," he said.
"Never," Jude repeats.
"Tell me no one you danced with ever stood a chance."
"None of them," Jude breathes, and Cardan's hips are punching forward hard now. He slides a hand between them and rubs small circles into her clit, and the world blurs.
"Tell me that even when I fuck up, even if I'm not sorry, you're still mine."
And Jude looks him in the eye and says, "You're still mine."
Cardan's hand slams against the wall and he comes, shuddering hard against her and moaning raw in her ear. His hips stutter and his shoulders shake, and the intensity of it has Jude coming too, holding onto his shoulders and biting hard on his lower lip as he empties himself inside her.
They breathe against each other as they come back down, and the sounds of music and voices outside seem to filter back in.
"I'm sorry," Cardan whispers, cradling Jude's jaw in his hand. His forehead is warm on hers, and Jude slides her nose down his before kissing his lips.
"You're forgiven," she says, and true to her word, she does not dance with anyone else that night.
Inspired by @lexieheron and @katexrenee and dedicated to @urbisie @sassyreads @dragonbound135 and anyone else who wants to join the Tail Team.
If you like this, check out my NSFW tailsin Jurdan fic here
Jude knew she shouldn’t be watching him this closely, and certainly not at a function this public. Still, she found she couldn’t help it. Cardan was always beautiful in her eyes, but tonight he looked especially so.
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Storm Bringer AU where everyone was too late and Chuuya didn't resist enough. (more details under the cut ↓)
Chuuya finished reciting the activation phrase the first time and released Arahabaki, which the lab could contain using their emergency water protocol (flash-flood the room like they wanted to in the video, since the room was a tank for holding water). They could then override Chuuya's "persona model", aka erase his memories for easier conditioning.
Verlaine would be a few minutes too late and find the room being emptied with Chuuya still hung on he wall. Chuuya being mostly unresponsive (that was a whole lot of physical and mental trauma in a very short time), the whole thing hit way too close to home. Verlaine unhooked Chuuya from his torture position, but left him there as he went to rampage through the whole facility and take revenge on the researchers (for himself or for Chuuya?) and find N.
In the meantime, Dazai and Adam are unaware of the situation and start off doing the exact same thing they do in the light novel, but then realize something's off compared to Dazai's predictions. Above events ensues.
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