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wanderingpages · 1 year

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High for this by The Weeknd but *jurdan*?

∞

Now Playing: High For This by The Weeknd

1:20 ───⊙─────── 4:15

Cardan’s lips taste sweet, like over ripe fruit; honeyed and heady, and Jude can’t help but want more of it, more of the feeling that slowly ebbs its way into her system. He holds her close, by the base of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her mounted on top of him while he nibbles small little red splotches down her neck. She’s breathing heavily, half dazed with the lack of oxygen getting to her head and something else that fogs and clouds the room. It’s so hot in here, she thinks, but she must have expressed this out loud, she realizes, when Cardan gives her an answering moan that vibrates against her skin.

“Ah,” she cries when his teeth nip at a spot just above her breast, leaving a sting he soothes with the pad of his tongue. Her knees on either side of him, tighten in response and he groans when the heat of her presses down against his groin. Her hands slide from the curve of his shoulders to the nape of his neck. One hand slides up, weaving through thick curls, gripping them tightly, pushing his face harder against her. She tilts her head, giving him space to move up, to that juncture between her neck and shoulder. It tickles her, but she likes the way she can feel it from the base of her spine all the way to the tips of fingers.

Jude would be lying if she said she hadn’t known what she was in for, why she heeded his words when Cardan told her “Come find me,” in the midst of the revel. It had been some time between him being the center of attention and being long forgotten in the haze of smoke and wine. With his finger tugging at a lock of her hair, letting the strands lace around his knuckles before slipping through, with his eyes so transfixed on the motion, Jude thought, he’s absolutely blissed out of his mind.

He left before she could offer him an answer and when she had finally given in just moments later, weaving through the crowd to the room where she knew he’d be. He had a faint smile across his lips, knowing that she’d come. Cardan offered Jude his hand, and she hesitated only for a moment before she let him pull her between his legs.

Her hands had found their way to his arms, her chest getting tight against her clothes as she suddenly struggled to breathe properly. He tucked a stray tress of hair behind her ears, letting his fingers linger. His eyes at half-mast, stared at her with something more than lust, maybe – she guesses it was concern, though his question didn’t really sound like a question. “You know what you’re here for?” Teasing, she thinks, because his hushed tenor when he pulls her closer, when their bodies flushed and her heart beat so hard against his own — and for a moment, it seemed like one rapid rhythm had mended between them; had tethered them to each other – his soft words had felt like the beginning of a fire. Heat and smoke.

Then his hands were guiding her, positioning her against him, roaming her body and letting her roam his, forehead against hers when she bent at the right angle, lost in her eyes while his lips barely skimmed hers. She kissed him first and when he parted his mouth, it was all the friction needed to ignite a spark. She bit down on his lips, tasting red as much as she felt it. He pulled back in a gasp, eyes blown out, but perhaps it had been like so from the start. Still, hers all but mirrored his. Cardan's fingers fumbled, then grasped at his own attire; buttons on his shirt, buttons on his pants. His top was off before Jude could catch up to him, her brain muddled for a little more than a moment. Then, Jude leaned in again and there was a flame.

“Take it off,” he tells her now, tugging at the laces on the back of her dress, loosening them with ease and expertise. He leans back on his elbows, watching her pull the dress up and then toss it somewhere on the floor beside them. In that time, it seems Cardan has absently found something amass the sheets and pillows. A golden fruit he had bitten into earlier that had coated his lips iridescent and his tongue in poison. There’s liquid gold between his lips after he's taken another bite, and Jude’s a little entranced, not realizing she’d folded her arms across her bare breasts.

Cardan reaches and gently pulls at her wrist. There’s no resistance as Jude’s hands are placed on his chest. She hovers hover him, stray pieces of hair, dismantled from pins and jewels, curtain the two of them. She’s nervous now, “Cardan,” her lips mouth over his, tasting that sweetness again. He squeezes the fruit, letting the liquid drip over his knuckles and land against his skin between them.

“I’m right here,” he tells her quietly, tossing the apple before letting his hand wander up her spine, the other sliding through her hair, letting glimmering traces of gold speckle over her body. “Don’t be scared,” he paints the places he likes the most about her... spine, neck, chest, breast, navel - up again to her cheeks, nose, earlobe, then down to her thigh and the curve of her ass.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…” she feels dizzy by proximity of him, by juices seeping into her pores. She's unable to finish her sentence, can’t really recall where she had been going, but she knows for certain that she wants to taste his lips again, wants to lick the elixir right off of him. But a small part of her wonders if that would be okay, if she could handle more than just the remnant of what he had taken hours prior.

“Do you trust me?” He’s genuine this time, reading her easily. Jude realizes, maybe outside of this moment, the answer would be different. She nods her head in response. He presses her closer, and uses the hand at her back to slowly guide her hips against his. “Then you can taste me,” he tells her. “I’ve got you,” Cardan promises.

Her tongue darts out, lapping at his bottom lip without thought, slowly pulling it into her mouth. Cardan's hips lift and begin to move in tandem with hers, hands at her hips, guiding her in wave-like motions, pressing their bodies harder against each other until she cries out against his lips. His eyes flutter shut and his fingers leave indents in her skin. The scant material of her underwear is dampening against his pants, and she’s kissing him sloppily as she rocks against his hardening cock.

His lips are swollen when he turns them over, has her on her back while he takes a nipple into his mouth. She sucks in a breath, exhales a whimper. “Ah – ah, ahh…” losing her words, unable to think straight. She’s trying so hard to muffle her moans, paranoid the remaining revel party would hear, let alone even care. She bites down hard on her lip, and Cardan thinks it’s the most endearing thing he’s ever seen. His fingers squeeze at her other breast, twisting the pebbled nipple between his fingers, soothing the hurt with his thumb, then slowly traveling up her neck, over her chin and slips four fingers into her open mouth, helping her muffle herself, easing the hurt from her lips. She whines and spit dribbles down his ring adorned fingers. Her teeth bites down, but not harshly, and her tongue licks languidly at the sticky psychedelic.

Jude’s body thrashes in tight, mostly controlled movements, trying to cover more surface area, arching her back, buckling her legs over his waist, gripping his hair. Closer. He flicks his tongue and she sobs in rapture, silently begging him for more. His free hand holds her hip down, slides up and down her thigh until she releases him from her python grip, letting her legs fall against the mattress, spreading wide for his fingers to trace her nerves right to between her thighs. He licks off the remaining substance then his hand slips into her panties, two fingers slipping easily in her. She gurgles out Cardan’s name when his digits curl upwards and his palm presses down on her clit. Spit slides down the sides of her mouth, tears parallel from the corner of her eyes. She looks upward, finding swirls in the smoke, glitter in the air, stars in her eyes.

Her knees bend, soles of her feet pressing down firmly on the mattress, her hips lift in vain, breath coming concerningly fast. “It’s okay,” Cardan says now, “breathe,” he instructs her, “I know, Jude.” He takes her in, watching as her eyes gradually hone in on him, straining a pinkish color from the sting of whatever still permeates the air. They’re wet and wide and repeatedly losing focus as Cardan’s slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of her. “I know, Jude,” he whispers again, sweat beading along his skin, entranced with her every reaction. “I feel it too,” he promises.

“Cardan…” she manages, hands going to his wrist, holding on to it as he slides down her chin and collars her neck, all the while, she rocks against his other hand, finding a rhythm that makes her ache. Slowly, she hikes a leg up, fumbling to slip his pants down. His tail flicks against her skin, stopping her, holding her ankle tight and still. “Will it hurt?” she glances down, watching when Cardan takes pressure off of her pelvis and reaches to pull down his pants. His fingers glisten obscenely, coating the tip of his member as he strokes it slowly. He squeezes tightly, at the base, giving an already light headed Jude a visual comparison to go by. His hand slides up and down like a slow tease. Her hands begin to shake, “Cardan…?”

He strokes the tip between her folds and Jude’s stomach all but caves. Her body tenses, waiting for an intrusion that never really comes. Just a smooth teasing that has her twitching occasionally. “We’ll be good,” Cardan says in murmur of a slur, “So good,” he whispers, placating. His hand smooths down her pubic bone, thumb pressing at her clit.

“Ah –” Jude’s head lolls back, and she takes in a deep breath just as he enters, slowly, testing the waters at first before pressing all the way in. He’s slow at first, easing out of her tight grip whenever he pushes in. When she begins undulating her hips, he falls forward, encasing her with his body, beginning to move more nimbly. Her nails find his back, scraping skin between scars already healed over. He fucks her that much harder, forcing short little screams from her whenever he hits deep enough that her toes curl. She’s still fighting her vocality, still fixated on faeries in the halls, not aware that they won’t recall even seeing her slip past them the next day, won’t recall her entering the room Cardan had decided to occupy.

He grips at her hair, forcing her to look at him, driving into her harder. “Just me,” he manages, and whether she understands his proclamation, or she’s unable to hold back any longer, Cardan isn’t quite sure, but he’s so pleased when she screams out in bliss.

So fucking pleased, when she’s fighting her eyes to stay open, when she’s uttering a jumble of words next to his name, “Please, please, please…. more…Cardan …more…please…I – just…you…”

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ur-mousey · 3 months

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Shot in the Dark ~

Jude Durate x Cardan Greenbiar

summary Morden AU, Jude remembers a steamy night of fun with Cardan. 2.1k warning mature, flashback smut, softcore possessive, breast fondling, steamy makeout.

..............................

Jude Durate nocked the arrow into place. Her stance held rigid as she breathed in deep. Her skin prickled, haggard by the sun's rays. And the whirlwind that was her raged mind never ceased to calm. Too much had pissed her off this week.

She had known outright that a relationship with Locke would turn out less than hopeful.

He was dumb teenage fun. Dry humps in the back of his truck after stealing vodka shots from the party of the week. His chest had felt like a feather pushed against hers when she desired friction. Always, his hands, so desperate, reached for hers to touch his bulge. When she meant to overpower him, his lithe tongue found refuge by hitting the back of her throat, which caused her to battle against his pursuit.

Dumb teenage fun.

Cardan Greenbriar was more... Encompassing. However, she would never allow herself to imagine a future with him either.

Both of them had tormented her and her twin for their illegitimate seat at the Madoc Estate. She lived like them since the age of six. And, it was never enough to make her one of them

The gothic manor she had inhabited, with more rooms than there were people inside, didn't impress. Nor was her ability to attend the same private school. Or dress her hair in braids and beads. Nor was her conquest to dominate many sports get her any praise.

All because she was a bastard child?

She fucking doubted that.

There was something else about her that made her insignificant to them. Madoc called her weak. He'd beaten her down countless times until she could land a satisfying blow. She wasn't stunning like Nicasia, the gem of the sea, or psychotic-like Valerian. She felt little need to be manipulative like Locke, or to be as cruel as Cardan.

Cardan, Cardan, Cardan. Cardan this. Cardan that. Like a vermin, he seeped his way into everything.

How dare he?

Locke wasn’t much of anything. He’d chased a story where he pitted sister against sister. Being a silent observer of betrayal because he found himself too boring. That fiasco was years ago and whatever hurt had faded into the backdrop until times like these.

Cardan was the reason she found herself here.

Jude has been shooting all day. She drew from the quiver strapped to her back, nocked the arrow, and released the shot until it became monotonous. Canaries and quails fell victim, struck from atop trees, or while diving for the stream to escape the heat. Their corpses were then tied and dealt with before she placed them in the travel cooler at her side. Now, she stared ahead, left hip held forward towards the unaware hare some feet away. It rubbed its face in between nibbles of grass blades. Its head swiveled at the drop of acorns mistaken as footsteps.

She couldn't waste any more time. Jude adjusted her feet, re-curled her fingers around the bow, and pulled at the sting. She ended the hare's life. The arrow plunged into its side. Like that hare, all her life Jude Durate was meant to play as a defenseless little thing, prey for the taking.

When in actuality she was something to be feared.

Nicasia had drugged her in front of her peers where she found herself on her knees in front of Cardan. Locke made prom a spectacle where his date, Jude, stood on the sidelines as he revealed in tender kisses, not of her lips, but, of the pious Taryn Durate. Valerian more than the rest had tried to tame the beast he saw behind her feral eyes.

But she'd always slept afraid. And, Valerian was dealt revenge worse than the rest. Their family names are tarnished or lost with their life.

Cardan complicated things the minute she tread too close. At a house party hosted by Cardan years after they went their separate ways. Jude found herself in arms with Madoc and her stepmother, guided into the lustrous golden arches of the Greenbriar manor. Twine held everything together.

Chrysanthemums stamped the floor. Each tile became a monument of flowers held in time by resin casings. Since his family's murder, Cardan decorated with fever, white rabbits and ticking clocks filled the space between the doors and walls. Portraits of his father were replaced with him seated with a crown of thorns, his ethereal beauty highlighted.

"Darling Jude, could you follow me?" Cardan made his appearance from the shadows. His feline features quirked in a welcoming smile. "I've waited for your arrival more than I care to admit." Jude pouted but accepted his outstretched hand. He pressed her knuckles to his lips. He lingered there while sinking his eyes into her. She tensed at the sensation of his teeth grazing her calloused skin before nipping at her fingertips.

"What are you doing?" Jude hurried her arms to her side.

"Oh... Something that I should have done long ago."

He dragged her to his barren room. The closet door swung wide with collared shirts and tweed jackets hung. However, a mound of clothes could be seen kicked under his bed. There, sat in its lonesome corner, a floor lamp pushed soft warm lighting into the space. The only thing filled with life was his bookshelf, filled with titles she had never seen. Even his brown comforter lacked a human touch. "You are free to leave whenever. But, please look around, darling Jude."

"Free to leave?" Jude scoffed, "What the fuck? What would you do if I didn't want to play your game?"

Cardan gently twirled Jude around by her shoulder. She sighed, he's treating her like a pet, she thought. Her hands clenched as she made the effort to refrain from decking him in the face. "I see you wore the dress I sent. Should I say, good girl?" Cardan's thumb trailed down her back, exposed by its v-line. He brought her back into his chest. His drunken breath played tricks on her skin. "If you do decide to leave, I'll find other ways of getting what I want."

"And what would that be?"

"Hint, I'll start with the bookcase if I were you," Cardan whispered, sauntering by to take perch on the edge of his bed. Jude tilted her head which he acknowledged with the same gesture. He undid his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt. And with a scoff of his own, he bellowed, "Buttons are the bane of all outfits."

With reluctance, Jude strode to the opposite wall, the click of her heels echoed in her ear. She had no reason to believe that the dress she'd worn that evening was sent by him. She had assumed Oriana, her stepmother, laid it out for her on her childhood bed. The fabric of the skirt flowed pin straight to the ground. Her breasts were held tight by the fabric, showcased by the heart-shaped neckline, whose trim was finished with gold embroidery.

The sleeves were cut down the middle from the crease of her elbow and looked as if it could merge with the skirt. The gown hugged her silhouette comfortably. How did he know her size? More importantly, what would be his intentions? Cardan was born with more even if he wasn't seen as the heir to his father's wealth. He belonged. There was nothing for him to gain from her. Did he mean to humiliate her in some way? Is that why she's here. It had to be a joke on her part. The hues of blue moved throughout the dress like a story, images of the forest were embroidered into the skirts, its branches reaching to touch the tip of her nipples. Silvered-shaped stars hid themselves, playing peek-a-boo with all who would want to search for them. It was tailored to her taste and with pockets in random nooks.

It took Jude little effort to find the most suspicious thing on Cardan's bookshelf. Alice and Wonderland sat there worn and in her face. Out of all the novels, it seemed the most childlike on his shelf. She made her way to Cardan, standing in front of him. "Is this it?"

"Not quite," He quipped. "It's what's inside that you'll find interesting." Cardan tapped the spine, adorning her ruby ring which she had on in the banquet hall. "Well? Hurry on, you keep me in suspense."

"Cardan... I don't like your games."

"It is merely a surprise."

"Let me rephrase. I like nothing when it comes to you." Cardan eyes met Jude's in a mid-languid blink. Like a cat, she thought.

Jude flipped through pages until she came across a folded note. Her eyes furrowed at what was sprawled across, her name, over and over:

Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. And then some.

Stains inked the paper along her name. Blood splattered and dried alongside spurts of... cum? What the fuck?

Did he hate her that much? But, would you do that to someone you hate? She surely hated Cardan and her friends but she never made a display of their name. "What is this?" Jude threw the novel aside on the nightstand. She shook the paper in his face.

"Surprise... that's it."

"Now you're out of words?!"

Cardan shuddered, kneading the palm of his hands into his pant legs. "I have always been afraid of you," He confessed. "I have hated myself for less, but mostly because I wanted you."

Jude threw the paper at Cardan's feet. "You have some nerve... And a cruel way of showing you like someone."

"Darling Jude," Cardan gripped her waist. His fingers glazed over her plump bum. "I could be good for you... To you." He nuzzled his head into her stomach trailing kisses along to her left hip bone.

Jude faltered in step to Cardan's motion. She swung her legs over his waist and lifted his face to reach her lips. He tasted like sour wine and it intoxicated her. She knew not much of kisses. There was Locke but it was years away and didn't feel as forbidden as this. His cruel mouth was soft against hers, and his eyelashes shuddered against her cheek. He reached his other hand up to her ears and he tugged at the upper bit before biting down. He sucked her lips into his mouth, and the warmth of his lip ring brushed her lower lips. Teeth smacked and she wanted to laugh. Cardan lolled his tongue over hers which he gave up power to be dominated by her.

She pushed down on his chest till he lay there flat. Cardan reached for her lips to stay connected with his, however, Jude parted. Being witness to his face, desperately red, sent shivers down Jude's front. Cardan hiked her skirt up and encouraged her movements. She let herself buck her hips against his growing cock.

"Is that what you imagined?" Jude could only imagine the silver on his cheeks staining hers.

"No, and I rather not say."

"Why? Did you imagine more?" Jude tugged the collar of her dress. Her glorious cups spilled out for him to see. Cardan eyes widened and he looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Now you look scared?"

"I told you that you terrify me." Cardan reached both hands to pinch around her areoles. She would say that his touch felt reverent if she didn't know better, but she did. "Alas, I didn't believe I would get this far." He chuckled lightly, guiding her hands to wrap around his throat. Jude gave an experimental squeeze and Cardan breathed out deep.

Mocking, Jude parroted his earlier statement, "I'll find other ways of getting what I want."

NONNONONONONONO!!! Jude kicked at the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Her cheeks burned deep into the skin. He played her, right? How dare he?! It made no sense. Jude hung her head while she packed the hare into the cooler and began to make the trek back to the manor's stable where she'll ponder and get more furious. And, where she'll replay more vivid scenes.

>>>

Cardan saluted to the groundskeeper who pointed him down the dirt path to where he was sure to find Jude. He has let her be a full week. Longer than he wanted, but he knew Jude like the back of his hand.

Jude, Jude, Jude, everything about her screamed to him. He twirled her precious ring from finger to finger. This time, he's on a mission to engrave her taste on his tongue.

.............................. Thank you for reading! Accidentally deleted this upload but here it is again! Please leave suggestions! And possible part two because I didn't truly deliver on smut.

Request rules are here!

>>>

NEXT JURDAN POST: Song Writer! Cardan x Jude

#jurdan #jurdan smut #soft yandere #smut #smut fic #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #imagine your otp #jude x cardan #tfota

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iheartgracie · 29 days

Text

jude duarte sad quotes

“She wasn’t even scared. She wasn’t sure she felt anything at all.”

“She couldn’t imagine how it had felt, and as the years went by, she couldn’t make herself feel it again. The horror of the murders dulled with time. Her memories of the day blurred.”

“I know it’s an honor to be raised alongside the Gentry’s own children. A terrifying honor, of which I will never be worthy.

It would be hard to forget it, with all the reminders I am given.”

“We are getting older and things are changing. We are changing. And as eager as I am for it, I am also afraid.”

“You may think salt is sufficient protection, but you children are forgetful. Better to go without. As for dancing, once begun, you mortals will dance yourselves to death if we don’t prevent it.”

I look at my feet and say nothing.

We children are not forgetful.”

“To go inside, we must ride between two trees, an oak and a thorn, and then straight into what appears to be the stone wall of an abandoned folly. I’ve done it hundreds of times, but I flinch anyway. My whole body braces, I grip the reins hard, and my eyes mash shut.”

“Oriana steps forward, probably to remind Taryn and me of all the things she doesn’t want us to do. I don’t give her the chance.”

“I turn my gaze to the floor. Though I hate it, I sink to the ground on one knee, bend my head, and grit my teeth”

“Valerian gives my braid a hard tug. I wince, useless fury coiling in my belly. He laughs and moves on.

My fury curdles into shame. I wish I had smacked his hand away, even though it would have made everything worse.”

“I want to feel something, something besides a vague queasiness. I want to feel more, but every time I look at it, I feel less.”

“I’m so tired,” I say out loud. “So tired.”

I sit there for a long time, watching the rising sun gild the sky, listening to the waves crash as the tide goes out, when a creature flies up to alight on the edge of my window. At first it seems like an owl, but it’s got hob eyes. “Tired of what, sweetmeat?” it asks me.

I sigh and answer honestly for once. “Of being powerless.”

“He doesn’t understand how much that makes them loathe us.

Not that I am not grateful. I like the lessons. Answering the lecturers cleverly is something no one can take from me, even if the lecturers themselves occasionally pretend otherwise. I will take a frustrated nod in place of effusive praise. I will take it and be glad because it means I can belong whether they like it or not.”

“There is nothing I can say to make them stop, and I know it. I have no power here. But today I can’t seem to choke down my anger at my own impotence.”

“What they don’t realize is this: Yes, they frighten me, but I have always been scared, since the day I got here. I was raised by the man who murdered my parents, reared in a land of monsters. I live with that fear, let it settle into my bones, and ignore it. If I didn’t pretend not to be scared, I would hide under my owl-down coverlets in Madoc’s estate forever. I would lie there and scream until there was nothing left of me. I refuse to do that. I will not do that.”

“When I was little, I used to sit at the bank all day, staring at faerie countenances instead of my own, hoping that I might someday catch a glimpse of my mother looking back at me.

Eventually, it hurt too much to try.”

“I want to scream at him: Do you know how hard it is to always keep your head down? To swallow insults and endure outright threats? And yet I have done so. I thought it proved my toughness. I thought if you saw I could take whatever came at me and still smile, you would see that I was worthy.

You’re no killer.

He has no idea what I am.

Maybe I don’t know, either. Maybe I never let myself find out.”

“I pinch my leg until pain washes everything away.”

“Do you know why Madoc won’t let me try for knighthood? Because he thinks I’m weak.”

“Jude,” she cautions.

“I thought I was supposed to be good and follow the rules,” I say. “But I am done with being weak. I am done with being good. I think I am going to be something else.”

“when the fun wore off and I still couldn’t stop, it was just terrifying. It turned out that my fear was equally amusing to him, though. Princess Elowyn found me at the end of the revel, puking and crying.”

“Here’s why I don’t like these stories: They highlight that I am vulnerable. No matter how careful I am, eventually I’ll make another misstep. I am weak. I am fragile. I am mortal.

I hate that most of all.

Even if, by some miracle, I could be better than them, I will never be one of them.”

“Is this fun?” I call to the shore. I am so furious that there’s no room for being scared. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

“My foot slips on slick rocks, and I am under, swept downstream helplessly, gulping muddy water. I panic, snorting into my lungs. I thrust out a hand, and it closes on the root of a tree. I get my balance again, gasping and coughing.”

“We can curse you to wither away for want of a song you’ll never hear again or a kind word from my lips. We’re not mortal. We will break you. You’re a fragile little thing; we’d hardly need to try. Give up.”

“Never,” I say.”

“I think about how much I hate them and how much I hate myself.”

“a different person is looking back at me.

Maybe the person I might have been if I’d been raised human.

Whoever that is.”

“But when I see human families all together, especially families with sticky-mouthed, giggling little sisters, I don’t like the way I feel.

Angry.

I don’t imagine myself back in a life like theirs; what I imagine is going over there and scaring them until they cry.

I would never, of course.

I mean, I don’t think I would.”

“Knighthood would have been boring anyway,” Vivi says, effectively dismissing the thing I’ve been working toward for years. I sigh. It’s annoying, but also reassuring that she doesn’t think it’s that big a deal, when the loss has felt overwhelming to me.”

“not giving her the satisfaction of being shocked by what she said about our parents. She acts like we don’t remember, like there’s some way I am ever going to forget. She acts like it’s her personal tragedy and hers alone.”

“A wave of panicky frustration comes over me at the sight of her intent expression. I so badly wanted her to choose me to be one of her knights. And though she can’t now, a sudden awful fear that I couldn’t have impressed her comes over me. Maybe Madoc was right. Maybe I lack the instinct for dealing death.

If I don’t try too hard today, at least I never need know if I would have been good enough.”

“My stomach is sour with the lack of food, but I no longer feel hungry. I feel sick, eaten up with nerves. I try to ignore everything but the exercises I move through to limber up my muscles.”

“There’s no shame in surrender. As Taryn said, they’re just words. I don’t have to mean them. I can lie.

I start to lower myself to the ground. This will be over quickly, every word will taste like bile, and then it will be over.

When I open my mouth, though, nothing comes out.

I can’t do it.”

“I stagger past the tournament tents to a stone fountain, where I splash my face with water. I bend down, starting to clean the gravel from my knees. My legs feel stiff, and I am shaking all over.

“Are you all right?” Locke asks, gazing down with his tawny fox eyes. I didn’t even hear him behind me.

I am not.

I am not all right, but he can’t know that, and he shouldn’t be asking.”

“What happens when they turn out my pockets? What happens when they rip my stockings? What happens when they scatter my salt in the dirt?”

#judeduartequotes #badass jude duarte #jude duarte soft #jude duarte badass #judecardan quotes #jude duarte quotes #judecardan #judeduarte #jude duarte #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #the folk of the air quotes #the folk of the air

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catapparently · 2 months

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The High King of Flowers

AO3 LINK

MASTERLIST

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Ship: Jurdan

Word count: 1.1k

~~~~~

They were sitting in the throne room, Cardan looking as bored as ever as two little faeries droned on and on, complaining endlessly about their measly little problems. He absolutely loathed this part of being High King; always having to pretend to care about even the smallest of quarrels in Elfhame and judge them accordingly, lest his subjects would turn away from him for not acting as a “proper and prosperous High King” would and should. Cardan hated it. He like the gifts, the praises, and the long revels with wine and dancing that went on and on until the early mystical hours of the day. Though, in some twisted way, he enjoyed all the attention and importance he was finally being rightfully given as faeries come to him with all of their troubles and worries.

“Well, perhaps it was his fault, this time. As such, Diaspor, you shall give Torren your first berry harvest every month for the next fifteen years, and in return, Torren, you shall teach him how to weave his dried bark strips into the finest of enchanted baskets,” Cardan mused, glancing over at Jude, waiting for her usual approving nod at his conclusions. Jude stared absentmindedly into space, her fingers vacuously stroking the colorful petals of the flowers and the many plants decorating and encasing their thrones. He quickly noticed her dazed state, her gaze fixed on an unfocused spot in the room.

His eyes snapped to the faeries and guards in the throne room as he dismissed them. “Leave us be.”

At his immediate words, they all filed out of the large ornate room, though not without sparing a few curious and inquisitive glances behind them. Cardan reached out his hand, each finger carefully and glamorously embellished with daintier, shiny rings. He lightly grazed his knuckles over the soft round curve of her ear, meticulously admiring the glittering golden ornaments decorating it, the same color as the shimmery swipe of glitter that he always wore on his well-defined cheekbones.

“Jude, my lovely, what are you thinking about this time?” he probe, not exactly used to his High Queen being so utterly… absent. At the sound of his silken voice, her face tilted upwards, her calculating eyes rising to meet Cardan’s adoring ones.

“I was thinking about Vivi, she murmured, “she snagged a date with Heather for tonight. I hope everything goes okay with them this time.” Jude wasn’t the type to worry, yet her voice sounded uncharacteristically strained. She truly cared about her sister, and hoped that Vivi could rekindle her relationship with Heather. Heather, whom both Vivi and Oak dearly missed.

His fingers moved downward, tracing and weaving through the silky brown locks resting on her nape. “And no date for us tonight as well, hmm?” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his perfect plush lips.

“You know, these flowers really are beautiful,” she remarked, her attention once again turning to the lovely decorations around their thrones.” Cardan raised an eyebrow. “You think?” It was unlike Jude to pay such attention top details as small and insignificant as decorations.

“Sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like you could conjure up such delicate and colorful flowers,” she shot back.

Cardan gasped dramatically, his hands immediately leaving Jude’s smooth cheeks to clutch theatrically at his chest as though she’d shot a glamoured arrow right through it.

“How dare you! I am very much delicate; my skin is as soft as the finest of moth’s dew-bathed silk, and my palms are free of the scars and scratches of a forceful warrior,” he retorted, quick to defend his honor. It was all true, and it was difficult to imagine a faerie more delicate than Cardan. Cardan, who wore eyeliner and kohl to enhance his mischievous eyes. Cardan, who carefully brushed shimmering stardust on his cheekbones. Cardan, who wears the most lavish and unnecessarily intricate doublets and royal clothing. And finally, Cardan, who had recently developed a new liking to lightly staining his lips with the ripest and best of autumn faerie gooseberries. It left a faint sour taste on Jude’s tongue every time she kissed him.

To prove his point even further, he sprang up from his seat, carefully clutching Jude’s wrist and dragging her behind him. Cardan led her straight out of the throne room and into the royal gardens, making sure that all of the faeries who worked to maintain it where gone. Unlike his brother, Balekin, Cardan had never, ever, glamoured defenseless humans into working for him at the palace. Hell, he’d even brought forth a law that forbade it. Yet he still wasn’t willing to admit that on that night, many moon cycles ago, he’d truly cared about that human and saved her from Balekin.

And so, the High King of Elfhame sat his queen down amidst the prosperous rows of blooming flowers, standing proudly before her. Cardan kneeled besides Jude, under the large willow that hid both of them, tucking them into their own little world.

“Jude,” Cardan breathed. His eyes were locked on her, drunkenly inhaling on the image of she who haunted his mind all the time, be it in his thoughts during even the most important of meetings or at night, dancing with his heart cradled in her hands in his dreams. She was his anti-medusa, the ferocious beast of a warrior who had shattered his heart of stone, filling it with the pulsating life of her ambition. The mortal girl who so obstinately wore her hair up in little horns. It was such pure, primitive sense of life that no faerie could have or understand, no matter their eternal lifespan. It was iron that faeries, who could live forever with their magic and enchantments, never truly lived, not in the way that humans do. Not like Jude.

Cardan removed Jude’s crown off of her head and set it safely on her lap, yet it was immediately devoured by the many sparkling layers of red fabric. Red, just like the color of the roses he was weaving into each other by the stems like a flower crown, making sure no thorns remained. He intertwined the flower circlet through her royal crown, then placed it atop her head once more, admiring the way it matched her dress and the faint blush on her cheeks she believed so soundly that she was able to hide. “Wear these. Just like my love for you, the flowers shall never wither or fade.”

“My darling High Queen,” he murmured, utterly drunk on her very presence eternally by his side, his lips brushing against hers, “my Jude.”

#jude duarte #the wicked king #cardan greenbriar #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #flower crowns #soft cardan #willow taylor swift #fluff #romance #fanfic

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love-and-books320 · 4 days

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tainted love is so Jurdan coded

#the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the wicked king #Tcp #twk #tqon #qon #queen of nothing #Tfota #The folk of the air #Tainted love #Soft cell

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praetorqueenreyna · 8 months

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Seeing jurdan art while only being halfway through the first book is so surreal. They are actively committing crimes against each other rn

#tcp #I BELIEVE IN THEM I FEEL LIKE I WILL SHIP THEM #its just very funny lmao #soft sweet art of them in each other's arms #right now jude is holding cardan hostage and is contemplating selling him

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king-maven-calore · 1 year

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Reading The Stolen Heir part 2 👑

Chapter 2: "It isn't that mortals can't be pretty- many of them are- but their beauty doesn't make you feel pummeled by it. I feel a little pummeled by Oak's beauty.

If I look at him too long. I want to take a bite out of him." BITCH it's literally like

Also, the knight and the winged soldier are 100% f*ing

Chapter 3: Holly sis, I didn't need reminders of how freaking adorable baby Oak was but thank you for the reminder 🥺🥺. His encounter with Wren, their game with the foxes, them eating pie with their hands, her sleeping under his bed, stole my heart. I am in shambles 😭

Side note: the recurring image of the fox is giving "foreshadowing"... I think.

Chapter 4:

“As you command,” the cursed soldier says. “You do delight in giving orders, don’t you?” “To you, I do,”

Called it

Wren getting all flustered at the closeness to Oak's body, followed shortly after by him getting all flustered looking at her after she takes a bath? *chef's kiss* I'm starting to sense the tension.

I really like Wren so far. Monstrous girls my beloveds 🙏💕. And I'm living for Oak being a cheeky vegan philanderer. I wonder what he's truly up to

#I wanted to say manwhore but I feel he's not as slutty as Cardan #he's more of a soft seducer #at least that's what I'm getting #TSH spoilers #the stolen heir #tfota spoilers #tfota #reading live blogging

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cruelprincae · 3 months

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what flavor is your soul?

salt

ah little kraken, bold are you ? restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you ? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere on the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, well, what's wrong with that ? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

tagged by: stolen by @ elenaes <3 tagging: you !

#( 𝐎𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 ┊ dash games )#( this is so cardan it's physically painful #( “your words are weapons crafted from your soul” and “nothing's wrong with being soft” and “vulnerability is not a weakness” !!#( and most importantly “your heart is good” because he really believes otherwise:( “not everything in life is a battle”#( i'm ok i'm fine

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clockworkbee · 2 years

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Caring Cardan Supremacy

—the cruel prince

#cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #jurdan #jude duarte #the folk of the air #tfota #holly black #soft jurdan

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its-ya-boi-kaz · 1 year

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Me: i hate cliches

Piece of media: she said she'll come back and he's been waiting this entire time

Me: OMG SHE SAID SHE'LL COME BACK AND HES BEEN WAITING THIS ENTIRE TIME 😭

#im so soft for them #booklr #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #ck #the cruel prince #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #book ships #bookworm #bookaholic

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wanderingpages · 1 year

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Hey Peach, I’m going feral for this Jurdan idea and you’re the only TFOA blog I follow anymore. So, set when Jude is still high key just in it for the power and after they’ve started getting intimate. Jude kills her dad, or someone else does in front of her and she’s playing it off like this is a win bc he was trying to get the throne ergo against her. And she and Cardan walk back to his chambers and he’s trying to gauge how she’s doing bc she puts up a good front but that man raised her. She asks for sex (rough) and he goes along w it and they start making out and she just…. Slowly breaks down and starts sobbing and Cardan holds her and they just cuddle and she actually talks about her feelings and problems and then it’s sappy hurt comfort.

Thank you for your time, just had to get that out. Hope the kiddo is growing up nicely!

∞

A victory, Jude thinks to herself, though her hands shake and tremble when she slides the sword out of his chest. She feels dizzy, as every bone and organ scrape against the blade of Nightfell. She’s done it. He’d be proud of her, that she’s bested him. Of course he would – that is, after all, how he’s trained her.

Blood rushes in her ear and unable to help herself, her knees fall to the ground, beside him. She hesitates then closes Madoc’s eyes, seeing the stain of blood on her finger tips as she does so. She wonders, almost as if she’s not quite herself – as if she’s looking in on the scene from somewhere else – but she wonders if it would be fitting to dip his hood in the blood she’s spilled. There’s a thickness in her throat, Jude can’t quite swallow properly; it tightens and constricts at her rib. She wishes she was a little more human at the moment. Maybe then she’d know what prayer to say to send his soul off. I’m happy, she tells herself, forcing a smile. Safe.

But then, why do her tears feel heavy when they land on his chest?

She doesn’t really know how or when the calvary came, who had helped her up and declared her righteous in battle, who’d led her back to the palace and bathed her. Who’d scrubbed off the remainder of her father’s blood from her skin, and dressed her in finery. Doesn’t pay attention to the speech being made in her honor, doesn’t look to the remainder of her family, mourning his death. She nods and smile when she thinks it’s the right moment, raises her chalice and repeats whatever cheer has been said. She eats her food, but hardly tastes her meal.

When it’s over, Cardan is beside, her leading her to her room. She gives him a smile when he turns her to face him. The door is locked behind him and he tells her it’s only the two of them. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Jude responds, “I’m splendid,” She doesn’t think she’s ever used that word before, because it feels so foreign. She thinks, perhaps, she hadn’t fully returned to her body since watching her father fall. She places a hand to Cardan’s neck. His pulse beats just fine, “Just absolutely fine,” she reaches up and kisses him, tasting the salt of her own tears on his lips before she’s even aware they had fallen. He holds her steady, pulling away in concern.

“Jude…” he manages to thumb at the corner of an eye before she turns her face from him.

“It’s a victory,” she can’t help but repeat, what must seem like the umpteenth time. She starts at the bobbles in her hair, sitting in front of the mirror. Her vision seems blury and her fingers get caught in the jewels. She sniffs, annoyed, but gentle hands are easing her digits away, taking out the rest of the adorning gold and pearls and gems. “Thanks,” she murmurs, watching him through the mirror, more than herself. She knows, she’d be unpleased to see the reflection of her red tinted eyes and swollen face. She doesn’t remember crying profusely at all, but why are all the symptoms there? She tests a smile, and if it hurts, she thinks she’s masked it pretty well. “Aren’t you happy?”

Cardan goes to the buttons that line the back of her gown, nimble fingers undoing them with ease. “I am happy you’re alive,” he tells her.

Jude rises, turning to face him, he pushes the dress down her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. He runs his eyes over her and Jude frowns when she’s realizes it’s not because she’s something pleasing to look at, but because he’s searching her for bruises and scrapes.

She yanks him by his head, forcing their lips to touch. Cardan lets out a startled noise, but rests his hands against her ribs, holding her steady as he mends his lips with hers, submits to her will, despite the taste of blood from the wound she’d inherently inflicted.

She’s managed to get him in bed, managed to rid of any remaining clothes, managed to get him behind her and inside of her, no foreplay or teasing, just, “Please, I want you –” I need you, she thinks.

“Jude…” Cardan’s hand had skimmed her body down to her mound, playing with the sensitive skin between her legs and he’d been so beautiful when she’d look back at him, with her back pressed to his chest, and Jude thought she didn’t deserve his tender look at all.

“No,” she had murmured, tugging at his hand, forcing it over her chest instead “Cardan, please…” When he’d given in, sinking his teeth in the crook of her neck as he fitted inside of her, Jude still wasn’t quite pleased. “Harder,” she’d whispers, now, digging her nails sharply into his bicep, wishing, hoping, begging that his blood would replace phantom residual from Madoc. “More,” she mumbles even though her eyes begin to sting. Cardan fists her hair, leaning her head against his shoulder, sucking harder at the tender skin until it breaks between his teeth. The iron in her blood is dizzying but she’s begging him, begging him, begging him – “Don’t stop…” between whimpers and mewls.

Cardan grabs hold of her arms, bringing them to cross behind her back, the hold is firm but not unbreakable. She sobs when he slams into her this time, hitting her womb at an angle, bruising the muscles so deliciously. He guides her forward, bending her until her face is pressed to the sheets. Jude lets loose a soft cry, fisting her hands so tightly, nails pierce the skin of her palms. More blood, she deliberates, to coat the grime she still feels.

“Cardan…” She manages, sounding broken. Her toes curl and her stomach tenses. She bites down on the linen, as he slows down enough that inch by inch of him is embedded to not just her memories but her flesh too. He pulls all the way out, when the shudders in her body feels utterly unbearable. He turns her over, but she grabs on to him and pulls him close, burying her face into his neck, breathing the mess of his curls, all before he can look at her face and see the worst of her.

“Oh Jude,” he murmurs, “My favorite warrior,” he lets her know, blindly reaching between them to guide himself back inside of her, more tender now, but it aches all the same. She weeps, wrapping her legs around him, gasping in pleasure at every slow thrust.

“Don’t go,” she whispers to him. “Please, don’t leave me,” she begs. He kisses the shell of her ear in promise, holding her slick body against his as they both reach climax and then some.

He still inside of her when he braces his elbow on either side of her head and brushes her hair back. She still pulses, coming down but not fully there yet. Cardan wipes under her eyes, giving her a small reassuring smile, “Let me get you cleaned,” he murmurs, lifting off of her, but she grabs hold of his arm, stilling him.

“Just for a moment,” she tells him quietly, twisting so when he lays back down, they’re both on their sides, facing each other. He fixes them more comfortably, pulling the covers over them as if to keep her secrets safe. They don’t sleep for a long while, don’t move for much longer. Then she begins to speak and Cardan listens intently as Jude walks through her thoughts, her emotions, the schism between how she should feel and what she actually feels. “I don’t think I’m okay,” she finally whispers.

“I know, Jude.” He places a kiss to her cheek, “I know.”

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rumi-rants · 11 months

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the cruel prince 👑

#holly black #holly back book #book #books & libraries #fantasy #young adult #ya #jude duarte #cardan duarte #soft layouts #green aesthetic #book aesthetic

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iheartgracie · 29 days

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jude duarte badass quotes

Instead of being afraid, I could become something to fear

The odd thing about ambition is this: You can acquire it like a fever, but it is not so easy to shed.

I kissed him on the mouth, and then I threatened to kiss him some more if he didn't do exactly what I wanted.

Vivi is right; it cost me something to be the way I am. But I do not know what. And I don't know if I can get it back. I don't even know if I want it.

I'm not a monster, I'd told her, back when I said I would never hurt Oak. But maybe being a monster was my calling.

You put a curse on that girl over there,” I tell him. “Fix her immediately.”

“She admired my ears,” the boy says. “I was only giving her what she desired. A party favor.”

“That’s what I am going to say after I gut you and use your entrails as streamers,” I tell him. “I was only giving him what he wanted. After all, if he didn’t want to be eviscerated, he would have honored my very reasonable request.

“If I cannot become better than them. I will become so much worse.”

“Sorry if you can’t read my handwriting,” I say, grabbing the notebook. The page tears, leaving most of my night’s work shredded. “But that’s not exactly my disadvantage.”

“I brush myself off. “Are you calling me out? Because then it’s my right to choose the time and the weapon.” How I would love to knock her down.”

“I don’t feel particularly miserable right at the moment.” I can’t show him I’m afraid.

His mouth curls. “What happiness do you have? Rutting and breeding. You’d go mad if you accepted the truth of what you are. You are nothing. You barely exist at all. Your only purpose is to create more of your kind before you die some pointless and agonizing death.”

I look him in the eye. “And?”

He seems taken aback, although the sneer doesn’t leave his face.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I am going to die. And I am a big liar. So what?”

“You had the advantage of me twice, and twice you gave it away. Good luck getting it again.”

“Perhaps someone will ask for your hand and you’ll be made a permanent member of the High Court.”

“I want to win my place,” I tell her.”

“They talk about honor, but what they really care about is power. I am good enough with a blade, knowledgeable in strategy. All I need is a chance to prove myself.”

“Take a big bite.”

“Make me,” I say before I can stop myself”

“She can show us how sorry she is,” Cardan drawls. “Tell her she doesn’t belong in the Summer Tournament.”

“Afraid I’ll win?” I ask, which isn’t smart.”

“Nicasia's wrong about me. I don't desire to do as well in the tournament as one of the fey. I want to win. I do not yearn to be their equal. In my heart, I yearn to best them.”

“I don’t care if they don’t like my being in the tournament. Once I become a knight, I’ll be beyond their reach.”

“Do you know why Madoc won’t let me try for knighthood? Because he thinks I’m weak.”

“Jude,” she cautions.

“I thought I was supposed to be good and follow the rules,” I say. “But I am done with being weak. I am done with being good. I think I am going to be something else.”

“Cardan’s gaze catches mine, and I can’t help the evil smile that pulls up the corners of my mouth. His eyes are bright as coals, his hatred a living thing, shimmering in the air between us like the air above black rocks on a blazing summer day.

“Have you lost your wits?” Taryn demands, shaking my shoulder so that I have to turn to her. “You’re making everything worse. There’s a reason no one stands up to them.”

“I know,” I say softly, unable to keep the smile off my lips. “A lot of reasons.”

She’s right to be worried. I just declared war.”

“Give up.”

“Never,” I say.”

“I leave my books and cross the grass toward them. Cardan half-turns, and I shove him so hard that his back hits one of the trees. His eyes go wide.

“I don’t know what you said to her, but don’t you ever go near my sister again,” I tell him, my hand still on the front of his velvet doublet. “You gave her your word.”

“I’m not withdrawing from the tournament,” I tell her.

“Even if it wins you nothing but more woe?” she asks.

“Even then,” I say.”

“My good intentions evaporate on the wind. My blood is on fire, boiling in my veins. I do not have much power, but here is what I have—I can force his hand. Cardan might want to hurt me, but I can make him want to hurt me worse. We’re supposed to play at war. When they call us to our places, I play. I play as viciously as possible”

“You’re no killer, Madoc said.

Right now I feel that I could be.”

“Get down on your knees,” Cardan says, looking insufferably pleased with himself. His fury has transmuted into gloating. “Beg. Make it pretty. Flowery. Worthy of me.”

“Beg?” I echo.”

“You think because you can humiliate me, you can control me?” I say, looking him in those black eyes. “Well, I think you’re an idiot. Since we started being tutored together, you’ve gone out of your way to make me feel like I’m less than you. And to coddle your ego, I have made myself less. I have made myself small, I have kept my head down. But it wasn’t enough to make you leave Taryn and me alone, so I’m not going to do that anymore.

“I am going to keep on defying you. I am going to shame you with my defiance. You remind me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means you have much to lose and I have nothing. You may win in the end, you may ensorcell me and hurt me and humiliate me, but I will make sure you lose everything I can take from you on the way down. I promise you this”—I throw his own words back at him—“this is the least of what I can do.”

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