#sweetlyvillainous

[elidelochans]

Nesta groaned lacing her fingers together, stretching upwards with a restful sigh. Turning and twisting in her midnight blue comforter. Her face and mess of dark auburn tresses buried into her plush pillow. Reaching out for her husband's body. Though it wouldn’t surprise her if it was one of their toddlers instead. Still, they would receive the same touch. An arm curling around the middle and a swift peck on the check. The only difference would be how she said good morning. To their toddlers, it would be motherly full of warmth and affection. She’d run her fingers through their thick dark locks, cupping their little rosy cheeks. Until Cassian grabbed them, tickling the two and chasing them out of the bedroom. To Cassian, it would be a good morning prick which would entice him to flip her on her back. Murmuring some damned nonsense of how she loved his prick and he would show her. Or it would be her peppering kisses from his tousled hair down to the nape of his neck. He’d turn to her in a sleepy daze capturing her lips in a morning greeting.

This morning when she reached out there was nothing. No one. Not even the warmth of a body. Just a cold spot of silken sheets. She jumped up startled blue-grey eyes scanning the room for any of them. The only one in the room was her.

“Cassian?” Nesta knew it was ridiculous to call his name in a still room. If he was in the master bath she’d hear him. Loudly too. Always singing off-key or just generally making noise. No matter the time of day he seemed to hold a habit of slamming doors and cabinets, “Aidan? Audrey?” she called for their twins on the off chance they were once again hiding in the walk-in closet or under the bed. No giggles, singing, or cabinet slamming. Only silence.

Pulling the covers off, her bare feet touching the cool cherrywood flooring. Resting a hand over her three-month swollen belly as she walked towards the small black chaise next to the window. People thought they were crazy for having another while the twins were only four. They couldn’t help it and they only needed justification for themselves. Cassian and Nesta always wanted a big family. For Cassian growing up, it was only him and his mother. Things were always lonely and tight. For Nesta, it was troubling. Her mother left them with her father never bothering to contact them again. Her father did nothing but drink his days. She believed if she did nothing that he would eventually get his act together. He didn’t. He never did. Eventually, his sister took in the three girls. Elain and Feyre they loved and adored. Nesta was always pushed aside. Too much like her mother they would say. It took years later for some Illyrian idiot with a man bun crashing into her while leaving a creative writing class to melt the ice around her heart. But he did and with him, she wanted that chance. To fill her house with the laughter and love she never had. Things weren’t always easy for them, but their love and devotion to each other ran deep. Now with her successful career as a writer and his as a gym trainer with his equally successful lines of workout supplements, they had the means for that family and more.

Nesta pulled the sheer curtains apart looking down for any sight of her husband running with the kids. One twin up on his shoulders while Cassian chased the other. Possibly with him pinned to the ground and the two climbing on top of him. It didn’t matter, it was only eight in the morning. If Cassian had it his way. He would drag his wife and the kids outside the second the sun rose. They weren’t outside either. There was only one other place they could be. Nesta grabbed her charcoal robe, slipping into the sleeves and tying it loosely over her striped nightgown. She picked up a hair tie next to the cell, tying her hair in a bun while heading to the door. As she turned the knob, Nesta heard whispers through the doors and realized she should’ve checked the house first. Twisting the doorknob in her hand, silently she pulled it open.

“Daddy. What is book brinding?”

She heard Audrey ask, her shoulder-length hair still mused from sleep, thick and dark like her fathers. They all had their backs to her sitting at the dining table. Audrey on the left, Cassian in the center, and finally quiet little Aidan on the right. Nesta heard Cassian laugh at the innocent question. Folding her arms across her chest, she leaned against the door frame listening to the conversation.

“Bookbinding sweetheart. See it keeps the book together like this.”

“Oooh.”

“Will mommy like it?”

“Course she will, buddy. You and your sister made it.”

“You made it too!” the twins shouted in unison. Cassian shushed them both, “Oh right,” they’re voices lowered, “You made it too,” they repeated.

“Not really. I helped with the writing and tied it. The idea, the drawings, and the pictures you chose. That’s you guys. Daddy has something else planned. She’ll like it.”

“What is it?" Audrey asked. A childlike curiosity in her voice.

"Is it your prick?" Aidan questioned. Nesta stifled a laugh watching her husband's back straighten as he froze in his movements, "You always say she likes that."

"How many conversations do you kids listen to?"

"Oh. Lots," they spoke together.

"Yeah, let's not do that. Some conversations are for mommy and daddy only."

"But what is a prick? And why does mommy like yours so much?"

It was Audrey this time who asked. Nesta didn't have to see his face to know his tanned skin was draining and turning ghost white. By her guess, it was happening quickly. Cassian was good at many things, but awkward talks with almost five-year-olds were not one of those things. Pushing off the frame, she decided to make her presence known to the three most important people in her life.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her brows arched walking towards the dining table.

All three turned around at the same time. Looking like deers in headlights. The twins gasped, throwing their small hands over a squared object on the onyx table. Both of them fussing over who was louder and caused her to wake. Saying things like mommy needs sleep for the baby. The baby won't grow if you wake her up. Cassian hushed them both, pushing the chair out to go and greet his beloved. The twins followed suit.

Although Aidan and Audrey were twins. Their looks weren't similar except for their olive-toned skin. It seemed to be a mix of Cassian and Nesta. Aidan was a spitting image of his mother. Hair a deep golden hue like her and his eyes a marbled blend of grey and blue. Like a storm on the sea. His small child features were already strong like hers, both mother and son having sharp noses. He had his father's courageous and outspoken personality, but Nesta's love of reading. Aidan held an imagination that outweighed even his sisters of magic, fairytales, and dragons. He was still dressed in his pj's. A cheesy little blue and red set that read Mommy's little super hero on the front.

Audrey, on the other hand, looked at that of her father. Hair black as night and down to her shoulders. She liked it that way with bangs. It was like Cassian and auntie Amren. Her eyes were a bright amber with flecks of green throughout. Like sunbeams breaking through rich green leaves in a forest. Lips pouty and plush like him. She too loved reading, not as much as Aidan though. Audrey had a knack for adventure. Wanting to be the princess and yet wield a blade. She had her father's free spirit and her mother's stubbornness. Audrey stood there in her white and pink polka-dotted nightgown. A heart in the center with, Mommy's sweetheart embroidered. Standing close to Cassian. A daddy's girl through and through.

Cassian who stood there in the same wardrobe as the kids. A black shirt with black and red plaid bottoms. Grinning ear to ear at her, running his hair through his thick, wavy locks. He glanced at the kids to his sides, "Why don't you get the present?" they both nodded giggling. He stepped to Nesta, hand resting on her belly, kissing her sweetly, "Happy Mothers Day Nes."

"Thank you," giving him a chaste kiss, "What are you up to? Besides gifting your prick to me."

"Only gifting if it if you want it, sweetheart. I was thinking Amren and Valerian could watch the kids. Which I already asked. They said yes. We can go for brunch, get you one of those prenatal massages you like so much.."

She hummed, curling her arms around his waist. Resting her head against his chest. Cassian ran his fingers down her spine, "What if I want it?" She crooned.

"Insatiable woman," he teased, smirking at her.

"Let's call it a pregnancy craving."

He chuckled kissing the top of her head," Whatever you say. The kids have been working on this for a week by the way."

Aidan and Audrey returned shouting to Nesta to shut her eyes. She did as requested. Cassian guided her to the couch. The twins sat next to her and Cassian sat on the edge. Nesta felt a weight in her lap.

"Happy Mothers day!" they shouted in unison. Nesta flicked her eyes open to look at the item. She gasped. Her heart full looking at her gift. A book. They made her a book. Nesta Archeron wasn't someone who cried. So far in her life, she cried three times. When Cassian proposed, when they married, and when the twins were born. Now she supposed it was time for another. She could feel her eyes brimming with wetness. Overcome with emotion.

The cover was a drawing of what she guessed was Aidan and Audrey. It was a titled Why we Love Mommy. Nesta assumed the title was Cassian. It was too forward for a child. The sides of the book were laced together in a red ribbon. She opened the first page. It was a drawing of her and Cassian while she was pregnant. If the drawing didn’t give it away the sentence stating it would have. Some pages had photos of the four of them or Just Nesta and the kids. Most page was filled with inaccurate drawings and little stick figures. She loved it anyway. The bodies of themselves and then the twins when they showed in the book were far from proportionate. On one page Nesta's legs were as long as the drawn Cassian next to her. Sometimes the twins were taller than their parents. Her favorites were the ones of Cassian with circles as muscles playing his guitar while Nesta sat on the floor. Drawn with a long-armed Aidan and a book bigger than her head. The pages had simple sentences like: We love mommy for giving us a home in her tummy, We love when daddy plays music and Mommy reads to us, We love mommy’s pancakes. She didn't even realize tears were falling when she read the last page. There was a heart messily drawn and at the bottom, it read, We love mommy cause she’s pretty and strong, and she loves daddy and us bigger than space and dragons. It was a sentence only two four-year-olds could muster. It touched her in a way she couldn’t fathom. Her touchy pregnancy hormones had gotten the best of her. By now her tears were streaming down her face. Not from sadness, but affection.

"Nes?" he questioned handing her a tissue. She took it, nodding her thanks, dabbing at her tears.

"Do you like it, mommy?" The twins asked. She wrapped her arms around her babies. Planting a loving kiss on their heads. They hugged back as tightly as their little arms could.

"Yes. I love it very much. It's my favorite book," she shared a look with Cassian, her lips trembling but her smile wide. He reached out to squeeze her hand.

*******************************************************************************

a/n: This is actually part of series called: Mother’s Day in Velaris. Which atm has two parts. Nessian and Elriel (Which I’ll repost tonight). I still need to do Feysand and it will be complete.

Over the next week or so I am transferring my fics to tumblr. I kinda prefer the tumblr platform and I am on here more than ao3. So some of the fics I will be posting, yes you may have seen before, like this one.

Taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @hizqueen4life​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @b00kworm​ @negativenesta​ @sjm-things​​ @whataboutmyfries​​ @justgiu12​​ @illyrian-bookworm​​ @thesirenwashere​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​​ @vanessa172003​​ @thewickedkings​​ @sleeping-and-books​​ @thefolkofthefic​​ @yafandomsdotnet​​ @aknymph​ @alittledribbledrabble​ @iminsanenotobsessed​ @figuredihadanodustollensofalife​ @Df3ndyr @forbiddencorvidae​

want to be on my taglist? let me know!

[jurdannet]

Elfhame Folk! Today, we are celebrating a very special member of The Living Council, and one of our dear friends.

@sweetlyvillainous​ HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS LOVE!!! We hope you have a smashing day, filled with wine, books, and birthday wishes. We raise our glasses to you! 🍷🍷🍷

-𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Let's go with....Six Of Crows for the series ask. Please ma' am

omg okay it's been a minute but....

❤ favourite male: kaz brekker

❤ favourite female: inej ghafa

❤ favourite pairing: kanej 🥺

✖ least favourite character: ummm van eck?

✔ most like me: jesper fahey. definitely.

❤ most attractive: nina zenik 😍

❤ three more characters that i like: oh boy i guess that'd have to be matthias helvar, wylan van eck, and colm fahey.

book series confessionals ❤️

[olivieblake]

Hi! I saw your long answer about what readers weren't particularly fond of in your fics. Youth is definitely one of my favorite Marauder era fics. I don’t read many in that era, but I loved it. The characterization was brilliant! Anyway... I what I came to say was that I actually loved Paradox and the Grindelverse! It was different, but I was intrigued and loved every second of it.

I’m glad to hear it, thank you! I am of course at least a little bit in love with all of my works, so it’s always nice to hear people find something to enjoy in them. thanks for taking the time to validate me lol

[colubrina]

🌹❣️This is the Amazing Person Award! Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask box of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you’re amazing inside and out ❣️🌹

[flintandtinder]

TFOTA for the series ask please ❤❤🥰

Favorite Male: C A R D A N  G R E E N B R I A R 

Favorite Female: Jude Duarte! 

Favorite Pairing: Cardan/Jude 

Least Favorite Character: Valerian’s a punk bitch. Locke too. 

Who’s Most Like Me: Jude. The fact that she leaps to murder as a solution so quickly is something I can relate to. 

Most Attractive: Cardan. 

Three More Characters That I Like: I love Vi, Oak, and the Bomb. 

[sheikah]

Fyi, My Grisha books are on the way! I'll start them in a day or so. I promise!

I'm so proud 🤧 I hope you love them as much as I do!!! Perfect summer leisure reading tbh.

[maastrash]

🌷🌺🌻 SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 🌻🌺🌷

I ADORE YOU ❤️

[clockworkgraystairs]

Jurdan smut "Mine.Say it again".Congratulations Tess!

Thank you so much hun! 💛

-------------------------------------------------------->

Set in twk, some point after the events in chapter 15:

“If you keep grithing your teeth like that, you will break them.”

I turn to my right to find The Bomb staring knowingly at me. I hadn’t even realized I was doing that. 

“It’s nothing.” I answer.  

She nods and walks away. Sometimes I wonder if she forgets humans can lie, or if she didn’t insist as an act of kindness. Either way, it’s not like I’m willing to tell her how much I loathe the way Nicasia is dragging her nail down Cardan’s throat. He smirks and leans to whisper something to her ear. Then they are gone.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I know I told him to do this. To charm Nicasia, to make her spill her secrets and Orlagh’s plans. It’s not in my position to feel this anger for someone that is nothing to me. I am his seneschal. His advisor. The one behind the King’s orders. My place is where I am now, in the shadows. Watching the kingdom and plotting against potential enemies. 

Not in his bed. Not under his body… not-

I bite my lip to stop my trail of thoughts. This is not an effective use of my time. If the High King is gone from his revel, then I have nothing else to do here. 

I decide to take a bath, hoping it helps my boiling emotions. Bubbles and steam are my only companions for a while. My muscles loosen and everything is calm.

Until I get out of the bathroom and I find him there. Lying down on my bed. Waiting. 

I freeze, holding tighter the towel around me.

“Cardan.” 

His eyes wander down my body and back up before answering. “You left early.”

I scowl, how dare he. 

“I’m surprised you noticed.” I sneer. I tear my gaze from him and walk to the chair where I forgot my robe. “I thought you were busy.”

The bed creaks and before I turn back I feel his body flush against my back. 

“Are you jealous?” He whispers to my ear, running his knuckles up and down my arm.

Before I completely turn, ready to slap him, his lips crash against mine. I sigh, opening to him. Cardan grabs my waist and walks me back until I’m pressed against the wall. The coldness bites my skin, making me hiss. The towel pools around my feet as I bury my hands in his hair, pulling him closer to me. If such a thing is even possible. A low sound leaves his throat and I feel his hands roaming my body. While his lips desperately devour mine, he caresses me almost with adoration. 

This is so wrong. 

My body arches against him as his wicked fingers slide down my wetness. The type that has nothing to do with the bath I just had. His mouth captures the moan that escapes me when he finds my entrance. 

He does not go slow. But I don’t want him to. 

In a matter of seconds I’m panting at the delicious way his fingers curl inside me. I tilt my hips to him. Don’t stop. 

“Why are you jealous?” He grunts, speeding his pace. My eyes roll back at the new wave of pleasure that creeps up my body. How on earth does he want me to answer when I’m barely able to form words at all?

My voice quivers as I say. “You’re not hers.” 

I hate how Nicasia acts as if she owned Cardan. How she thinks he’s obliged to her in order to avoid a war. She’s not allowed in her bed, and even when I am… I still hate that he has just returned from her arms. 

I feel him smile against my neck, and leans back in order to look directly into my eyes. “Oh? Then tell me, my torment. Whose am I?” 

His gaze burns but I don’t evade it. I hear the now familiar noise of his breeches being unbuttoned. Cardan’s thumb finds my clit, rubbing hard enough to make me cry out. “Say it.” He repeats.

“Mine.”

He growls and lifts my leg, curling it around his waist. I feel his painfully hard member against my core. He leans to take my lower lip between his teeth. “Say it again.” 

In a swift move he enters me, making us both gasp. Once he fills me completely he stills. I squirm seeking some friction but he grabs my hips hard. 

“Jude,” He whines against my lips. His tone is almost pleading. “Say it again.” 

I sigh in defeat, giving up completely to him.

“You’re mine.”

Celebrate 1k with me!  ���  Masterlist

tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @sweetlyvillainous @aesthetics-11 @thesirenwashere @jurdanhell @nightbringer @b00kworm @mysweetvillain @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @vanessa172003 @booksandothersecrets @ireallyshouldsleeprn @fuzzypinneaples @acourtofbookworms @theoceanfaewriter @starborn-faerie-queen @alittledribbledrabble 

(if you wish to be tagged/untagged, or if I forgot to tag you pls let me know!)

[elidelochans]

Congrats on 1k!!🥳💜 Your gorgeous writing deserves it😍 For the mutual mixtape, do you think you could do Manorian + K. by Cigarettes After Sex as a drabble, please? 😘✌️

🥺🥺🥰 Aww thank you love! You’re so sweet! 

I’ll wait forever

Song of Choice- K.- Cigarettes After Sex (I actually made this a drabble *pats self on back*)

Dorian climbed the stairs up to his old chambers. His footsteps along the cool stone are the only sounds to be heard. Parts of the palace were still being reworked and this was one of them. It had been five months since they saved Terrasen and all of Erilea from Erawan and Meave. Five months since he had seen her. The night of Aelin’s coronation where the two of them poured all their passion and love into each other throughout the night. Holding Manon until she slept soundly in his arms. It was as good as it would be with her for sometime, he knew that. Yet he wished she could stay with him and never leave.

 He told himself every night, every day that Manon hadn’t visited because she was busy delegating in the witch kingdom. As time passed he was beginning to think she’d never return to him. Perhaps as the last Crochan queen she found her place and no need to look back. The feeling unsettled him. More than he cared to admit. It was there and grew ever present as days wore on. 

He despised only having Manon in his mind, his dreams. Despised that the tip of his fingers could not run along her skin, or through strands of hair kissed by moonlight. The dreams he had of crimson lips and golden eyes were more haunting than blissful. It pained him and yet, he couldn’t let go. Believing she would one day return.

 Dorian wasn’t sure when he fell for the half Crochan, half Ironteeth witch. He knew the first time she stayed and slept in his arms, that Manon was no distraction. She was more than that, and slowly she healed the cracks in his heart from Sorscha. With every smirk, kiss, touch, the way she loved her people and Abraxos. Cold on the outside, but on the inside she was burning with love only few could see. He considered himself lucky to have been so close he could touch that fire. 

His palm moved along the smooth stone walls as he reached the hall. There were still scratches and marks littered across the stones from when the witches attacked Adarlan. If he shut his eyes he could still hear servants screaming during the chaos of it all. Dorian made his way through the isolated hall reaching the wrought iron door. He yanked it open with a loud thud. The door groaned with an almost eerie sound as he stepped in.

There was no debris scattered along the floor anymore. The bed had been removed as well as most of the furniture. Whether saved or tossed he didn’t know. From what transpired here, thrown out was his estimation. Dorian could picture Manon flying into his chambers on Abraxos. Her face all the might of a warrior ready for bloodshed. Her eyes when she landed on him were mingled with worry and care. He knew she’d still deny it. The King of Adarlan smiled at the thought wandering to the edge of the room. Towards the gaping hole on the side. He saw the building she landed on mere nights after the Valg Prince was cast from his body. How she waved at him. He waved at her. 

Gods above did he miss her. Perhaps he should have taken her on the marriage alliance. Dorian sat on the floor with a soft plop staring out into the darkened skies. Thinking of all the times they were entangled together. The nights during and after Morath where he thought of her. Not only the way she felt when they laid together and forgot the world. But how she said his name when she reached her high. Like he was her divine salvation. When they stayed in their camp on a cot talking of the shared burden of crowns. Thinking of the way she shielded herself from worrying of him. When he knew deep down Manon was terrified for him. It was that moment, when she refused to speak to him for days, that he could tell her feelings were changing. She was starting to feel something genuine and true.

Now as he sits on the cold stone floor, feeling more like a boy with a broken heart. Than a King ruling a land. Resting his cheek on his fist, fingers tracing the floor making icy swirls in their wake as he sighed deeply out of frustration and boredom. Being separated from her, Dorian learned one thing. He preferred the world just with her and no one else. A foolish thought for a king and wItch queen, it was one that gave him comfort nonetheless. That and the thought of kissing and holding her until she fell asleep in his arms. 

“Manon,” he spoke to the open air, watching the stars twinkling in the night. Wondering if she’s looking at the same ones, “I know it’s stupid and you can’t hear me. I wish you’d come back already. I’ve been waiting for you and I still will. However long it takes.”

It was that moment, he heard the thunderous roar of a Wyvren.

*******************************************************************************

Taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 ​ @hizqueen4life ​ @clockworkgraystairs ​ @b00kworm ​ @negativenesta @sjm-things ​​ @whataboutmyfries @justgiu12 ​​ @illyrian-bookworm ​​ @thesirenwashere ​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn @forbiddencorvidae @vanessa172003 @thewickedkings @sleeping-and-books @thefolkofthefic ​​ @yafandomsdotnet ​​ @aknymph ​ @alittledribbledrabble ​ @iminsanenotobsessed @figuredihadanodustollensofalife @df3ndyr @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash @knifewifejude @st00pid231 @elide-lochan-salvaterre

want to be on my taglist? let me know!

Add to my mutual mixtape

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

BIRTHDAY BBYYYY!!!! 🥳🥳❤️❤️

@sweetlyvillainous i hope you have a wonderful day filled with everything you love. thanks for being a fantastic, supportive, and caring friend–we love you to bits! 😘💞🍷

Elfhame Folk! Today, we are celebrating a very special member of The Living Council, and one of our dear friends.

@sweetlyvillainous​ HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS LOVE!!! We hope you have a smashing day, filled with wine, books, and birthday wishes. We raise our glasses to you! 🍷🍷🍷

-𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

HEY 😘🎶🥰

BECCA!! hey girl, your song is....

Untouched by The Veronicas 😘❤️

hey let's make a playlist!

[jurdannetrevels]

Welcome, folks and Folk, to Folktober 👻🎃😈

Get ready to get your spook on!

This October, we have not one but TWO prompt lists ripe for the picking.

Folktober 2020- strictly TFOTA prompts

Spooktober 2020- mortal world prompts that can be used in a Modern or Canon Compliant.

You can choose one list to follow, or take a stab at both lists. You can write fics, make edits, draw fanarts, etc. It's entirely up to you, how you choose to use these prompts!

RULES:

We ask you to remember that we here at Jurdannet are simply the hosts of this revel. We are not sourcing creators or content, we are here to host YOUR content on our platform for all the fandom to see and revel in!

If you do decide to try carving your own pumpkin this Folktober, whether it be for 1 day or all 31 days, make sure to tag BOTH @jurdannet AND @jurdannetrevels so we can reblog your works.

Anyone can join at any time! You don't need to register or even ask our permission. Simply create, post during the month of October using these prompts, tag us, and enjoy the revel.

As always, if you have any further questions about this revel, please feel free to contact us here, or any of the Living Council at their personal accounts: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @clockworkgraystairs @sweetlyvillainous

So whether you're bobbing for apples or attending another Blood Moon Revel, it's sure to be a fangtastic time!

–𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 👻🎃

[colubrina]

🌹❣️This is the Amazing Person Award! Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask box of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you’re amazing inside and out ❣️🌹

Thank you, you sweet (but nevertheless villainous) person!

[snusbandxknifewife]

Can you do fanfic or headcanon explaining The resentment between Madoc and Cardan? I feel like it has something to do with Jude and no matter how much I think about it there seems to be resentment from both sides

Enjoy some light family dinner angst I hope this is intense enough!

~~~

It was no secret that Cardan and Madoc disliked one another. Anybody with eyes could see how they glared at each other over their wine glasses whenever they had to dine together. But Cardan loved his wife, and his wife clearly had some strange familial feelings that she was confused by, and so that meant that he never complained when Jude dragged him to dinner. After all, it wouldn’t happen for long, and Madoc would be out of his life unless Jude lifted the exile.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that his forehead always hurt from how strongly he frowned at dinner.

It was quickly approaching Yule and the Elfhame monarchs had agreed to take a day’s break from planning revels and attending meetings to head to the mortal world for an early holiday meal. Cardan had never celebrated Christmas, and Jude hadn’t celebrated it in years, but Oak was insistent on trying out the new holiday and Taryn was so far along in her pregnancy that they all knew she wouldn’t be getting out much in a few weeks.

That’s why, against everything Cardan wanted, he found himself glaring down his father-in-law.

They had to put in some work to properly stare at each other. With Madoc at the head of the table and Oriana opposite him, Cardan was at a disadvantage. He was sitting next to his wife, across from the Ghost, and so he had to turn his head to flash Madoc sour looks. Jude had picked up on the tension—she always did—and was gripping his thigh so tightly that he knew he’d have bruises in the morning.

Madoc took a break from glaring to ask some question about the kingdom, one that Jude answered with all the grace of a seasoned monarch. Cardan was so distracted by using the moment to take a sip of his wine that it wasn’t until the room descended into silence that he realized his wife had left him room to speak.

“My apologies, my mind was elsewhere,” he said, coming back to the conversation and offering his wife a sheepish grin. He only looked sheepish around her, only apologized genuinely for her. Anywhere else, with anyone else, he would’ve been content to continue ignoring them. But not his Jude, never his Jude.

“It’s alri—“

“Typical,” Madoc mumbled under his breath, loud enough to interrupt Jude.

Cardan and Jude both bristled.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Jude asked, her fiercely overprotective nature cutting through any hope of maintaining diplomacy. This wasn’t a state dinner, she could rip people to shreds if she wanted.

Cardan laid a hand on her back, his long fingers stretching effortlessly over the delicate silk of her dress as he wordlessly told her that he’d take care of this.

Across the table, Taryn was considering faking labor to have an excuse to get herself and Ghost out. Down the table, Oak was secretively raising his brand new phone up past his plate, already recording for posterity (as he’d started doing after Madoc “accidentally” dropped a wine glass on Cardan a month ago). Directly to Cardan’s right, Oriana was eyeing the wine glass in front of her, wondering if anyone would notice her turning the whole thing bottoms up.

Madoc stared Cardan down and the entire room grew even tenser. “I said it was typical,” he finally stated, blinking matter-of-factly. “As in, it’s typical for you to leave all conscious thought to Jude while you go off in your own world.”

“Madoc, dear, don’t speak to our king that way,” Oriana pointedly warned.

“I’ve no king, I’m a man in exile,” he shot back instantly. “All I have is a son-in-law who isn’t worth my daughter’s spit.”

Vivi cooly wrapped her arm around Heather’s shoulders, looking for the quickest exit.

Cardan, moving quickly, slid his hand from Jude’s back to her thigh and dug his fingers into her skin to keep her seated as he looked his father-in-law up and down.

“I don’t see why there’s so much animosity for a subject we agree on,” he calmly announced. “I’ve made it quite clear that I feel undeserving of the gift it is to be Jude’s husband.”

Madoc blanched a little, opening his mouth to say something.

Cardan cut him off. “Though what confuses me is the fact that you don’t seem to feel the same way about being her father. You act like you’re entitled to the roll, like you’ve offered her something she wouldn’t exist without.”

He reached down and grabbed his wine glass, swirling it around before taking a delicate sip to build the tension.

“Like you somehow have done anything other than put Jude in danger,” he continued, studying the way the light glinted off his painted nails before turning back to Madoc. “Like you were somehow key to her success.”

If they were in Elfhame, this would be about the time that guards would move to secure Madoc to keep him from attacking the king. But they weren’t in Elfhame, so no one stopped him from slamming his fists on the table and standing tall, looking ready for a fight.

Cardan didn’t give him the satisfaction of rising to face him. Instead, he remained comfortably seated beside his wife—who was shooting rapid glances between him and her father.

“I raised her!”

“You stole her,” Cardan shot back, voice betraying his disgust. “You took her from a loving mother and father, from the safety of the mortal world, and you threw her to the wolves. You gave her and her sister up to the gentry for slaughter and you dare to call that raising?”

And there it was, the genesis of Cardan’s hatred for Madoc. No matter how many family dinners they suffered through, how much time passed, he’d always despise his father-in-law for what he’d done to Jude when she was no more than a defenseless human child.

Jude had been born into a loving family, she’d had a mother and father who adored not only each other, but also their children. She’d deserved that for the rest of her life, she’d deserved the safety that her human birth should’ve afforded her.

But no, she’d been forced—at the tender age of seven—to watch the violent murder of both her parents, and then she’d been stolen away to Faerie and thrown to the wolves that made up the gentry. A lifetime of scorn and suffering that could’ve been avoided if Madoc hadn’t been so entitled and rash.

“I seem to remember your torment was always the worst,” Madoc looked like a vein was about to pop in his forehead as his voice lowered dangerously. “You trapped my daughter in a river of nixies, you drugged her and forced her to strip in front of her classmates—“

“The everapple incident wasn’t my doing.”

Cardan had been a terrible person—arguably still was when he needed to be—and he knew he’d been evil to Jude when they were children. But he’d never engineered a situation where Jude would be both inebriated and in danger. Even when he was still trying to convince himself that he hated her, her safety was always his number one concern.

“You exiled Jude when she needed you most. You left her alone and vulnerable after gaining her trust and act like I’m the monster?”

Cardan’s eye twitched. “To protect her from you. To protect her from us.”

And then he finally stood, setting down his wine glass and turning to face Madoc. His oil-slick eyes swirled with hatred and he was thankful they weren’t in Elfhame, solely because he knew that, if they were, he would’ve already been surrounded by poisonous plants.

“You didn’t see her after the Undersea, never saw how sick she was,” he growled. “I sent her away to give her time to heal, to give her the chance to fall in love with the mortal world again in the hopes that she would stay here where she was safe.”

He stepped back and pushed his chair in, pulling Jude’s out and helping her up.

“But my darling wife returned, because she’s headstrong and she’s never cared much for her own safety. I won’t lie to you, I’m thankful for it. I don’t think I would’ve survived without her.”

He went to the coatrack and grabbed Jude’s fur before walking back to wrap it around her shoulders.

“But then you took her from me.”

Madoc opened his mouth.

“Granted, you thought she was Taryn,” Cardan acknowledged. “I suppose you, her so-called loving father, never put in the work to tell the difference.”

Jude was staring at her husband, she saw how his hands shook in anger.

“But when you figured it out, when you finally looked at your daughter and saw Jude, that’s when you truly lost any hope of being a father.” Cardan looked back to Madoc, tears of fury wetting his eyes. “Because when you were faced with your teenaged daughter, the girl you stole and brought up and taught, you tried to kill her.”

Memories of Jude crashing from the rafters flirted through his mind and he bit his cheek against the wave of nausea it always brought up.

“You gutted your child and left her to die,” he whispered. “You ran her through and you dare to say I’m the one undeserving of her?”

Jude didn’t know what to say as she looked at her husband, as she felt his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. She’d never seen him so raw with emotion, never heard him discuss his hatred of Madoc.

She didn’t fight as her husband pushed her towards the door. So lost in her own thoughts was she that she didn’t notice Cardan stop to whisper in Madoc’s ear.

“I look forward to the day Jude stops coming to the mortal world,” he admitted, “because then I know I’ll no longer have to worry about you putting her in danger.”

“And what about you?” Madoc asked, a tinge if desperation in his voice. “How will I know that you’re no longer endangering her? You, who have always been undeserving of her?”

“Your peace of mind isn’t my problem. Her’s is.”

~~~~~

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[sheikah]

I had no idea you were in South Louisiana too until I saw your post. We're expecting the power outages too *insert sarcastic yay* Stay safe!

Ugh you, too! I'm happy this morning to see that at least Marco has been downgraded to a Tropical Storm Warning. Here's hoping Laura does too?? 😅