joyseuphoria - Tumblr blog

joyseuphoria · 11 days

Text

hiraeth(2).

part I. synopsis: she watches as cassian falls for another (...or does he?) grappling with her own hidden affections and their newly snapped mating bond in the process. pairing: cassian x fem!reader fandom: a court of thorns and roses genre: angst warnings: alcohol mention. a/n: 1.7k words! so... theres gonna be a part 3. i thought this would be it but... apparently not! yup, part two is... still angst. yes, i have started writing part 3. yes, its going to have a fluffy ending. meddle about, because he's totally chase atlantic coded.

Cassian woke with a start, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the realization hit him like a brick, as something tugged at him. Panic seized him, his mind reeling with the implications of what had just occurred. He stumbled out of the couch, careful not to disturb her slumber with his thoughts in turmoil, and made his way out of the House of Wind in a frantic daze.

With each step, the weight of centuries, centuries of unspoken feelings crashed down upon him, threatening to suffocate him with its intensity. He had loved her for so long, kept his feelings hidden deep within his heart, never daring to hope that she might feel the same.

–

The sparring ring buzzed with energy as she and Cassian circled each other, their movements fluid and precise. Cassian's muscles rippled as he lunged forward, his siphons blaring in the dim light, as she parried his blow effortlessly, her movements graceful yet calculated.

They danced across the training hall, their blades clashing in a deadly symphony. Cassian's attacks became more relentless, his desperation palpable, and she found herself struggling to keep up. She parried and dodged, her movements growing more frantic as she sought to break through Cassian's offensive onslaught.

Cassian found himself pushing harder, driving himself to the brink as his movements became more aggressive, more forceful, fueled by a primal instinct he couldn't control. She fought back with equal ferocity, but her struggle to keep up with him was evident. Cassian could see the strain etched on her face, the way her muscles trembled under the force of his blows.

Seizing the opening, Cassian pressed his advantage, his attacks growing more relentless. She found herself on the defensive, her steps quickening as she struggled to keep up with the sudden onslaught. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face, the tension coiling in the space between them.

Finally, with a sudden burst of speed, She feinted to the left, then struck with lightning precision, her sword whistling through the air towards Cassian's exposed flank. “C- Cassian-'' she called out, her voice reverberating through her chest with a note of urgency. But it was Azriel's booming voice that cut through the tension like a blade. "Cassian, enough!" he called out, his tone firm and commanding.

She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise and confusion as she found herself trapped, her sword clattering to the ground. Cassian's gaze bore into her, his breathing ragged, and for a heartbeat, She saw a flicker of something primal and raw in his expression – a fierce, almost animalistic need to – harm her?

Cassian froze, his siphons stilling in the air, his chest heaving with exertion. He saw the concern etched on Azriel's face, the silent plea in his eyes.

Cassian’s gaze flickered to her, breathing ragged and her body trembling from the strain. He saw the fear flash in her eyes, as realization dawned on him that he had gone too far.

Tension hung heavy in the air, the silence broken only by the sound of their labored breathing. Slowly, Cassian released his grip, his hand falling limply to his side. He averted his gaze, his features etched with shame and guilt, as if he had committed some unforgivable transgression. She stood there, her heart pounding, her mind racing to make sense of what had just transpired. She had known Cassian for years, had fought by his side in countless battles, and yet she had never seen him react this way – with such raw, unbridled emotion.

Tentatively, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Cassian?" she murmured, her voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?" Cassian flinched at her touch, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. "I… I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something came over me, and I couldn't…" He trailed off, his gaze fixed on the ground, his features a mask of anguish.

Her brows furrowed, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of Cassian's uncharacteristic behavior. She had always admired his unwavering strength and composure, his ability to remain calm and centered even in the midst of the fiercest battles. To see him so unraveled, so vulnerable… Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. "Talk to me, Cass." she urged, her voice soft and soothing. Tentative.

Without a word, he turned and left the ring, his footsteps heavy. Azriel followed close behind, his anger palpable as they made their way through the bustling streets of Velaris. The usually lively sounds of the city faded into the background, replaced by the heavy silence that hung between them. Cassian's jaw was set, his gaze fixed ahead as he wrestled with his emotions, visible in the rigid set of his shoulders.

–

The familiar warmth of the tavern buzzed in the air, as Azriel's gaze bore into Cassian.

“She's my mate,” he confessed to Azriel, his voice raw with emotion. “She's my mate.” Each word reverberated through the silence with an intensity that belied its softness. "She's my mate.”

Azriel sat there, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. "It's about time." Azriel said, his voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

But before Cassian could respond, a sudden intrusion disrupted the moment. Rhysand's voice echoed through their mental shields, knocking on the barriers of their minds – quiet, inquiring.

Perfect timing.

–

As she pushed open the tavern door, Cassian's world tilted on its axis as he felt the air shift. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her sauntering frame, couldn't ignore the pull drawing him towards her, like a moth to a flame. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating every curve and dip of her body. It was like something out of a dream, something he never thought he'd see in real life.

He wanted to tear her clothes off right then and there, to feel her skin against his, to lose himself in her. But he knew he couldn't. Not here, not now. There were too many eyes on them, too many prying ears ready to catch even the faintest whisper of scandal.

He tried to focus on his conversation with Azriel, tried to drown out the overwhelming voice in his head that screamed her name, but it was futile. His eyes wandered back to her, drinking in every detail as if he were seeing her for the first time. He felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him, a primal need to claim her as his own. The music, the laughter, the world itself – ceased to exist until there was nothing but her. She was a vision, a goddess, even amongst immortals, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

–

Mor's movements were like poetry in motion, each step with a confidence that was impossible to

ignore. She flashed a dazzling smile at the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment before quickly preparing their drink.

Her thoughts wandered to Feyre and she whipped around to see her seated next to Rhysand, who were lost in each other's arms in a secluded corner of the tavern, and as if on cue, her gaze landed on Cassian. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her knees tremble and her heart race. There was something in his gaze – a hunger, a longing – that confused her. Mor's curiosity piqued as she followed Cassian's gaze to where it rested on her. It was a dangerous game he played, allowing himself to be drawn into her orbit, especially when the weight of his feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he was about to excuse himself, he felt a presence beside him. Turning, he saw her approaching, her eyes soft with concern. "Hey," she said, her voice gentle yet determined. "Can we talk?"

Cassian's eyes flickered to hers, and she was struck by the raw vulnerability she saw there. For a moment, it seemed as if he were on the verge of revealing whatever it is that’s been gnawing away at him. But then, almost as quickly, the walls slammed back into place, and his expression hardened once more. "I…" he began, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Cassian," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "You know you can trust me, right? Whatever it is." Foolish, fragile heart.

For a long moment, Cassian remained silent, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. She could practically see the gears turning in his mind, the internal battle he was waging. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and turned to face her, his eyes burning with an intensity – fondness that took her breath away.

That fondness looked like something that might one day call itself affection, and for all his insistence that he didn’t know how to feel the things his tender expression implies, she grapples to clip their wings. Unsuccessful, she chastises herself as she lets hope beat against the walls of her chest.

Cassian felt the walls he had so carefully constructed begin to crumble, his heart pounding in his chest as her eyes searched his, as if she could see straight into the depths of him. His gaze drifted to her lips, and he caught the subtle hitch in her breath, the same desire mirrored in her eyes.

This is, she knows, intimate for him, and he shied away from intimacy with a degree of discipline that was almost devout.

Slowly, almost involuntarily, he raised his hand, his calloused fingertips tracing the delicate curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and Cassian felt a jolt of electricity coursing through him.

He was all but a lost soul, desperately trying to find his home in a path that was not the slightest bit familiar. And if he was feeling kind, he'd flutter down and bless her with a kiss: dark and violent, screaming bloody murder, and kick his way into her soul. But he was never hers in the first place, was he?

Tags: (thank you guys so much for the support! <3) @joyseuphoria @puttyly @talesofadragon @saltedcoffeescotch

#cries #whyyyyy

127 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 26 days

Text

hi, love

Hiraeth.

synopsis: she watches as cassian falls for another, grappling with her own hidden affections and their newly snapped mating bond in the process. pairing: cassian x fem!reader fandom: a court of thorns and roses (book series by sarah j maas) genre: angst warnings: none a/n: house of balloons/glass table girls, this is his song... i love him. fluff part two coming up OBVIOUSLY, im not fucking ending it like this i cant do this to my #1 loverboy babygirl kitty princess beloved. @joyseuphoria hi <3

Cassian had always been the beacon of power and resolve, with a demeanor rugged and unyielding. But beneath the surface was vulnerability, and she knew that it was written in the stars for her to remain by his side as his closest friend and confidante, never to become one to uncover that side of him.

But it didn’t make it easier. Watching him as he fell for Nesta’s every glance, every touch, every word that escaped her mouth seemed to throw him deeper and deeper into a trance. And she was fine with that, and accepted it. Accepted that she would never be the object of his softened glances, his featherlight touches.

Her thoughts halted as Cassian stormed into the room, frustration radiating off him in waves. She glanced up from her book, her eyes immediately catching the tension etched onto his features. Without a word, she closed her book and shifted, making room for him on the couch.

Cassian collapsed beside her, his movements rough yet familiar. He stretched out, his feet finding their place on her lap almost instinctively. Y/N didn't flinch; instead, she settled into the comfortable silence, waiting for Cassian to speak.

"It's Nesta," he finally muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. "Training with her…it was like walking on eggshells. One wrong move, and she was tearing into me with those ice-cold eyes."

She listened attentively, her gaze soft as she absorbed his words. "It was like she was always testing me," Cassian continued, his voice growing softer with each word. "Pushing me to my limits, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself."

Her fingers instinctively started to massage his feet as he spoke. It was a small gesture, one born out of years of friendship and trust. Cassian didn't protest; instead, he leaned back against the cushions, allowing the soothing touch to ease the tension from his muscles.

As the minutes stretched on, their conversation ebbed and flowed, the weight of Cassian's burdens slowly lifting with each passing moment. Y/N listened, offering words of comfort when needed, but mostly content to provide silent support.

Cassian's breathing eventually evened out, his body relaxing against the cushions. Y/N glanced down to find him fast asleep, his features softened by the serenity of slumber. She smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection.

Suddenly, chains, bolts, and locks shifted, loosening, their weight growing just a little more tolerable. A soul peeked through. Broken, scarred, and trembling — with fear, she realized, but it stretched further and further. Yearning, searching.

It was as though a tether had snapped into place, an invisible thread binding her to Cassian in a way she had never felt before. Confusion flickered as she processed the intensity of the connection, the undeniable pull drawing her closer to him.

She was aware that this was not happening in the slightest. A mind trick. A dream, she thought. betraying once, the jolt of real-time that pushed through her. Burning her cheeks and stealing her breath. How the waking world slipped past the knobby parts of her fingers like a whisper, barely there, because dreaming was just a fancier word for getting lost. It held her there, suspended in imagination and for every second, it felt real. Like she could grasp the outlines and the textures. Like she could touch the weather, drink the clouds, and taste the sunlight.

The gods who had her in a chokehold withdrew.

Death feared her too, it seemed.

He was soaring in the air, and she was on the ground. She tried to reach him but he was far, far out of her reach. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, and every thought that tried to sneak its way in, through this thick veil, bounced off and dissipated into thin air.

Because she then remembered… that beautiful things shouldn’t be broken. And she had a knack for breaking things.

The soft rays of dawn streamed through the windows of the House of Wind, casting a warm glow over the sitting room where she and Cassian had fallen asleep. As she stirred from her slumber, she found herself alone on the couch, the imprint of Cassian's presence still lingering in the air. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her mind foggy with the remnants of… dreams? Visions? She felt as though the very fabric of her existence had been torn asunder, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty, but when has that ever stopped her?

So she stood on the ground and longed.

#don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry #acotar

278 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

these memories follow me around - A Jily Modern AU

I was not supposed to publish this tonight and not to leave it unfinished either. I wanted to gift all Jily fans who like to read fanfiction as much as I do a finished 3-part fic which I had been working on whenever I felt like it in the past couple of weeks. However, I just realized tonight that my AO3 draft will be deleted tomorrow and I didn't want this to happen for the very obvious reason that I didn't want my work to get lost.

So, if you'd like to read it... Part One is up. Part Two and Three to follow as soon as possible!

The first time she ever saw him, he was stumbling out of Emmeline’s room; half-naked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, hair an absolute mess – a perpetual state she would later find out – and quite obviously hungover.

89 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

tbh if my friends' animagi forms were a majestic stag and a badass dog, but mine was a RAT, i also would've betrayed them.

#💀💀💀

188 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

nothing just I'm currently in my "i wanna consume books like they're food, like they're oxygen, like I can't survive without words, like those stories are all that's keeping me alive, like they're physical shoulders for me to lean my head on, like i need to just travel and be somewhere else in my mind real bad" era

24 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

seeing a post about James always calling Lily by her first name even when they didn't get along is a startling reminder that people who have not read the books did not have the pleasure of seeing James address her as "Evans" like 15 times in 2 pages. like "all right, evans?" is the foundation that built and nurtured the jily fandom for two decades.

#this

628 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

As today is the Ides of March lets enjoy jily as Cesar and Cleopatra.

As i've been enlightened of, they were betrayed by someone they considered as family.

For @annabtg

553 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

Infatued

@jilymicrofics

804 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 1 month

Text

Surprised in not very prefectly duties

@jilymicrofics

524 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 2 months

Photo

You can only reblog this today.

993K notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 2 months

Text

No one was my master— but I might be master of everything, if I wished. If I dared.

264 notes · View notes

joyseuphoria · 2 months

Text

In the cards

So,I originally wrote this for the Bittersweet challenge for @jilytoberfest where, and I got to turn an angsty quote into a sweet one. “You have given me so much pain.” has inspired this cracktacular piece of fiction. It did get yoinked at some point, but I will reupload for your consideration this @jilymicrofics (807 words) Enjoy!

Game night was always a big thing with the Potters. It was the one night a week when no one was allowed to make other plans. They took turns picking and bringing games, ordered food and poured generously from whatever alcohol was being served that night. It was cosy. Something to look forward to during the week. This was one of those weeks that James really looked forward to a night of friendly competition and hours of conversation.

Depending on whose turn it was to pick the game, the night turned out differently. James favoured co-op games, working together to get to the goal. Sirius, on the other hand, liked trivia games, things that he knew he would excel at. Peter preferred the silly sort of game, something active and guaranteed to give you the giggles. Remus always seemed to find amazing niche games with complicated plots and mysteries. Rich in storytelling and creative solutions.

And then there was Lily. Lily had a way of finding the most competitive, aggravating, friendship-ending games. Which had all started with Monopoly, a game that was now banned from the table. As a direct result of a gruelling, no-prisoners game that lasted seven hours before they collectively gave up. Which launched a series of game nights that only a masochist would enjoy. So clearly, all of them had the time of their life.

Other games brought by the redhead and subsequently banned were: Sorry, Settlers of Catan, Scrabble and for unrelated reasons charades. Which they mutually agreed was better kept for when they were forced to stay family-friendly. It did not always go wrong though. There had been a few fine games and one that everyone seemed to enjoy a lot more, despite multiple squabbles and disagreements. Risk, which was added to the permanent rotation.

Tonight was Lily’s turn and everyone was equal parts excited and apprehensive. Hoping she would finally fail in her streak of finding the worst games. So, when James got him and saw the pack of cards sitting on the table in the living room. He was relieved. Cards were usually fine. They had several card games they rotated. But this was Lily they were talking about.

For a moment James inspected the package, it looked innocent enough. Pretty straightforward too. But this was Lily. He was sure that there was some chaos involved, but he really could not see too much pain in a card game called UNO. Little did he know just how wrong he would be.

The first few rounds were rather tame. While the rules were simple, everyone seemed to hold back a little. Testing the waters. Not wanting to get into too much trouble until after dinner. Much to Remus’s dismay, Chinese food arrived. Halting the round for everyone to eat their fill and crack open another bottle of wine.

What happened next was the most unfortunate set of circumstances James could have ever imagined. He was riding high with only two cards left in his hand, the colour in his favour and he even had a mythical plus four cards ready to mess with Remus on his right. But right before the round could get to him Sirius threw down a skip card, moving his turn to Remus instead. Which was disappointing, but he could do another round.

Or not. Luck seemed to be smiling down on him when Remus reversed the turn order. That is where it all went wrong for him. Emboldened by his stroke of luck, he threw down the plus four proudly announcing: “Uno!” He smirked along the table when he caught the glint in Lily’s eye. And as if in slow motion he watched Sirius place a plus two on the board. Watching Lily doubt what card she should be putting down, made him nervous. For good reason too. Watching her place down another plus four.

Peter added a plus two, deciding on the colour red. His lucky colour. Which did not let him down when Remus was merciful, playing a reverse card. Seemingly saving him from his fate. The rollercoaster continues with Lily putting on a third plus four. It was now all up to Sirius, who paused just long enough for James to remark: “You have given me so much pain already. Just do it.”

Deflating when his friend placed down another plus two. Making the total cards he was drawing sixteen. Enough cards to force them to reshuffle the pile just so he could draw more. Muttering, much to everyone’s entertainment. “Lils picked this game alright.” Feeling hands on his shoulders from all sides. Consoling what would be a devastating loss on his part. Something only mildly mediated by Lily saying “Don’t worry love, I will make it up to you when everyone leaves.” Her wink made him feel only a little better.

36 notes · View notes