#Nessian mob AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

featherymalignancy · 3 years

Text

Omertà—A Nessian Mob Story

Summary: When Cassian Şahin—a member of a successful organized crime syndicate—goes into Italy on a fact-finding mission for his friend and boss brother Rhysand Javed, there is only one rule: speak to no one and do not interfere. However, when Cassian’s mission brings him into contact with the devasting and powerful Nesta Archeron, daughter of the most powerful crime lord in Italy, he finds his mission (and his good sense) quickly blown off course. When circumstance forces Nesta and Cassian into close quarters, the line between hatred and desire begins to blur, leaving both of them to question whether their loyalties truly lie....

Okay so I know it’s not an update on any of my OTHER ongoing projects and I’m sorry! All I can say for myself is that this idea has been bubbling in my head for a few weeks and for the first time in a long time I sat down today and I wrote and this is what came out.

Some quick things before we jump in.

1. this was partially inspired by @tswaney17’s Elriel fic I Do Bad Things With You, if you haven’t read it, go do it now!

2. Despite a name which looks like it came from a over-eager wannabe fantasy novelist, the ‘Ndrangheta is a very real organized crime syndicate in Italy similar to the Sicilian mob. Most of the details about 'Ndrangheta are based in truth, if only very loosely.

4. TRIGGER WARNING FOR BRIEF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

So yeah, let’s get into it!

Omertà, Part I

Under any other circumstances, Cassian Şahin would have dreaded the order to go to Cosenza.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find the city beautiful, because he did. Nestled in the valley of the Crati river and surrounded by rolling hills, it was idyllic and beguiling in that classic Italian way, and unlike the bland shit they ate in Lazio and Tuscany, the cuisine this far South was spicy, hearty fare that reminded Cassian of the types of dishes his Venezuelan grandmother used to make.

Still, none of that mattered. Not really, anyway. Cosenza was still ‘Ndrangheta territory, and for a man like Cassian who made his living outside the law, it was enough to know he was trespassing in enemy territory.

Besides, the city wasn’t run by some two-bit Sicilian cosche —it was run by the Archerons.

Originally hailing from Bari on Italy’s Western coast, it was rumored that the Archeron family descended from an illegitimate branch of the powerful and savage Sforzas, who ruled Milan and later Pesaro with iron fist throughout the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Having heard stories about Calogero Archeron, Cassian didn’t find it difficult to imagine the Archerons were pedigreed in both warfare and violence going back generations.

Not only were the Archerons the most influential of Calabria’s ‘ndrine, they were famous the criminal world over for their cunning, their resourcefulness, and their power.

It was why—on any other night—Cassian would have begged Rhys not to send him to Cosenza. After all, their business wasn’t one which often had dealings with the likes of Archerons

As Rhys was so fond of pointing out, “we aren’t that type of criminals.”

Where the old-school outfits like ‘Ndrangheta and Cosa Nostra still made their money off of racketeering, extortion, and smuggling, Rhys was far more interested in making his billions the modern way: through technology. From online gambling to wire fraud, Rhys wasn’t interested in anything as pedestrian drug smuggling or gun-running.

In Rhys’s mind, this meant that he had no quarrel with the Italian crime syndicates. Unfortunately, the ‘Ndrangheta—and the Archeron ‘ndrina in particular—didn’t seem to agree. Archeron capos had been nosing around Rhys’s Swiss accounts for months, and one poor bastard had even been stupid enough to attempt to blackmail Azriel in order to get to secure a cut of Rhys’s lucrative dealings.

Though Rhys had limited his punishment to breaking the would-be extornist’s wrists and Calogero Archeron—old-school, honors-bound mafiosi that he was—had chosen not to retaliate, they’d known for months that it wasn’t the last they’d heard of the Archerons. When the Archeron outfit found leverage over Rhysand—as they’d done with so many others before him—they’d be back to demand their cut.

It was why—up until tonight—Cassian and Azriel had been ordered to give the entire peninsula a wide berth.

“I don’t want either of you in Italy,” Rhys had said in that voice that always reminded Cassian of Rhys’s father.

“Until when?” Azriel had asked.

Though he claimed to hate the food, Azriel had always had staunch bias for Italian tailors, and—more importantly—a weakness for Italian women.

“Until I can be sure that Calogero Archeron won’t cut off your head and feed your body to the pigs in order to hide the evidence,” Rhys had said.

Cassian, for his part, had settled into the declaration with relative ease, quickly finding peace with the knowledge that he may be an old man before he ever set foot in Italy again. This in mind, he’d never imagined himself being ordered back within six months, and then when it he returned, it would be to Cosenza, the Archeron’s longtime base of operations.

Then again, Cassian had also never imagined that a man as powerful as Calogero Archeron could die of something as pedestrIan as blocked arteries. And yet he had, so here they were.

It had been Cassian’s idea, actually, to go to Cosenza once they’d heard of Calogero’s death. The Archerons—he’d argued to Rhys—would be vulnerable while they worked to fill the void Calogero had left. It was the best chance they’d get to get intel on the Archeron ‘ndrina .

As Rhys’s head of security, Azriel had insisted it was too much of a risk for Rhys himself to go, and the stakes were too high to send any of the more junior captains. So in the end it was only he and Cassian who’d gone to Italy, their directive clear.

They were to gather information and they were not to be seen, not to interact with anyone, and—above all—they were not to interfere in any way.

“Whatever the Calabrians are going to do,” Rhys had said. “Let them do it. I don’t need a war because one of you decides to try your hand at being a diplomat.”

“Yes sir,” they’d both said.

And so here they were, both dressed in funeral black and doing their best to blend in with the crowd at L’Opera, a swanky nightclub at the heart of the old city which served as the Archerons’ unofficial seat of power.

“You’re full of shit, you know.”

Azriel’s voice—smooth and cold—echoed in the earpiece Cassian wore. Despite his slight accent, Az still spoke Italian like a poet. Cassian had been told he spoke it like a peasant. Or worse, a tourist.

Cassian fought the instinct to touch his ear. Normally it would have been suicide to come wired into an Archeron club, but once look at the security on the way in earlier had told them that no one within the Archeron outfit would be looking for spies tonight.

“Excuse me?” He said instead.

“You don’t give a fuck about gathering information,” Azriel said. “You’re normally garabage on intelligence missions. You just think tonight might be your chance to finally see her ”

“Che?” Cassian said, speaking softly to avoid looking as if he were talking to himself.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Azriel said. “You know exactly who.”

“As a connoisseur of Italian beauty, I don’t know how you aren’t more curious as well.”

“Do me a favor: the next time you want to fantasize about Nesta Archeron, just google her instead of putting both our necks on the line.”

“We’re gangsters, Az; ‘necks on the line’ comes with the territory.”

Azriel, whose father had been a high-ranking shateigashira for one of the most powerful Yakuza in Kyoto, let out a soft snarl at the word. Despite what they did for a living, Azriel refused to acknowledge that like his abusive father, he’d ended up in organized crime.

“Speak for yourself,” he snapped

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just keep your head on a swivel and stop thinking with your cock,” Azriel said, the bite gone from his tone.

“This isn’t about my cock,” Cassian said, “This is about seeing whether the Calogero’s chain of command really is strong enough to outlive him.”

Mostly, it was true.

Nesta Archeron—Calogero’s eldest daughter and his heir apparent—was due at the club at 11 for a meeting with her family’s second in command, a man known only by the nickname “ Il Barone ”, which,more often than not over the years, had been shortened to more colloquial iteration of Beron.

Beron had taken over as acting-leader of the Archeron ‘ndrina, and the few rumors they’d managed to collect suggested there was tension between Il Barone and the eldest Archeron, and that though her father had named her his successor in his will, Beron was apprehensive about put the ‘ndrina in Nesta’s hands.

At 29, Beron likely wasn’t the only one within the organization who deemed Nesta too young and too female to take over the ‘ndrina now that her father was dead. However, Cassian had been watching Nesta’s work within the organization the last few years, and he’d frankly been impressed with what he’d seen.

Far from the sex workers and smack her grandfather Anselmo had built his empire on, Nesta’s vision for the family was far more advanced—and far less exploitative of the poor and desperate who made up the majority of Calabria’s population.

Nesta had a degree in economics from Oxford and a MBA from Harvard, and—much like Rhys—her criminal ideology was centered in the money markets. Insider trading, exchanges fraud—it was still messy work, but it also tended to end with far less bullets to the head.

If Nesta did, in fact, attend the meeting with Beron, the outcome would be telling either way.

And yes, if Cassian was being totally honest with himself, he was... curious about Nesta Archeron, enemy though she was. Despite Az’s flippant suggestion earlier, Cassian had caved to boredom once or twice and googled Nesta, though information had been scarce and photos even scarcer. Still, the one he had managed to find had been taken of her during days on the rowing team at Oxford, and even in a shapeless kit with her hair scraped back into a braid, she’d been mesmerizing.

And that had been ten years ago. Cassian couldn’t deny he was eager to see how time had changed her. Az could call it what he liked, but the way Cassian saw it, gorgeous women were a perk of the job.

“There’s chatter at the door,” Azriel said, breaking Cassina’s reverie. “She’s on her way, five minutes.”

“And Il Barone ?”

“He’s already here, Private VIP lounge upstairs. Don’t even think about trying to sneak up there, Cassian.”

Cassian didn’t heed his friend, already on the move up the stairs.

“We need eyes and ears or this is all for nothing,” Cassian said. “I’m going to send a little friend up there.”

He unpocketed the discreet recording device—which had been designed to resemble a drink straw—and began the ascent, careful to watch his step to avoid making uncessary noise.

He needn’t have been so cautious.

Il Barone was on the phone, speaking in what Cassian was surprised to realize was Dutch. The ‘Ndrangheta, like their Sicilian counterparts, were generally unwelcoming of outsiders.

Then again, Vito Corleone’s consigliere had been German-Irish, so what did Cassian really know about any of this Italian mafioso business?

From what Cassian could pick up from Beron’s conversation, he was assuring the person on the other end of the line that he and Nesta would work out their differences and everything would be fine.

Cassian wondered—as he gently tossed the recording device onto the semi-private landing and watched into roll into place—what Nesta Archeron would make of the fact Beron had just promised to “handle her with care”.

If he had to bet, she’d probably be pissed.

“Cassian, get out of there,” Azriel said, voice barely above a whisper over the commas. “Archeron just walked in and she’d heading straight to you.”

Cassian soundlessly slunk back down the stairs before melting into the shadow closest to the stairs and asking, “What’s she wearing?”

Azriel’s groan was more audible than below.

“You can’t miss her.”

“What—”

Cassian didn’t bother with the rest as he glanced up to watch the most gorgeous woman he’d frankly ever seen striding towards him.

Just as Az had suggested, it was obvious even beyond her beauty that this was the famed Nesta Archeron.

However, where Cassian had imagined lush curves poured into a slinky cocktail dress, he was met instead with a woman who—perhaps somewhat fittingly—looked prepared to execute a hostile corporate takeover.

Though she was dressed in a black sheath, it was neither short nor overly tight, though it did hug her slender frame in a way that told Cassian it had obviously been made for her. A large mink coat sat over her shoulders, make her look like a mix between Tony Montana and Cruella DeVille.

And her eyes—

Given that her father was Calabrian and her mother Corsican, Cassian had lamely assumed that her eyes would be brown. Instead they were a scalding artic blue, so bright and cold Cassian was sure one glance from her would be enough to burn.

Oh fuck, she was gorgeous. Cassian felt his heart rate kicking up as she neared him, even as he melted farther into the shadows, knowing he couldn’t be seen.

But goddamn, what he wouldn’t give for even more look from that woman, burn hazard or not.

“Focus,” came Azriel’s voice. “I can practically hear you panting from across the room.”

“Relax,” Cassian breathed, risking a glance around the corner to watch Nesta Archeron and that gorgeous, heart-shaped ass ascending the stairs. “I’m a wraith.”

“Pain in the ass, is what you are,” Azriel murmured, and Cassian only chuckled his agreement before drawing out his phone to check the feed from the recording device.

As luck would have it, it had fallen into what would be a perfect viewing angle once Nesta sat down, which she did a moment later.

Il Barone was only partially in frame, but Cassian caught a decent enough glimps of his face as he leaned across the table to brush a lingering kiss on Nesta’s cheek.

“That’s enough, Vanserra,” she said with cool bite, her accent a mix of Italian lilt and posh British-English. “Just because my father is gone doesn’t mean I’m suddenly yours to slather over.”

Beron Vanserra.

That name alone would be worth the trip to Consenza, assuming that Cassian and Azriel both made it out of L’Opera alive.

Beron only chuckled.

“You misunderstand my affection, bambina. Your father was my dearest friends; that makes you almost a daughter to me.”

Nesta’s lips—which had been painted a sinister oxblood crimson—curled into a sneer.

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child, yours or otherwise. And speaking of your children—” at this her eyes flicked up, presumably to the man who was standing guard over Beron’s shoulder. “ You’d do well to remind them that I am not their prize to covet, either.”

Another soft chuckle.

“I would never presume the right to covet a beauty like yours, Nesta,” a new voice answered.

“Then keep your eyes off my neckline, Eris,” she shot back.

“Now, now, children,” Beron cut in, Nesta’s eyes flashing even hotter at the deliberate jibe. “We’re not here to fight.”

“No,” Nesta agreed. “I’m here for my father’s ring. Give it to me and I’ll be on my way.”

“So soon?” Beron asked. “But you’ve only just arrived.”

“I don’t have time for your games or stalling tactics. That ring is my birthright, and my father left it and the ‘ndrina to me.”

Though the camera was angled too far away to catch all of Beron Vanserra, his hands at least were visible, as was the heavy gold signet ring he twirled around a finger.

“Perhaps,” Beron said. “But one could argue that he wasn’t his right to give this ‘ndrina away without the approval of the council. We aren’t Sicilians, Nesta; it’s not for one man to choose his successor.”

“I see,” Nesta said, and Cassian could see the cold ire limning her every muscle. “And I suppose this is the part where you tell me you think perhaps you would be a better fit for the role.”

“Perhaps I think I would be. Age before beauty, m’donna. I have critical experience you lack.”

“You’re also not Calabrian, which means the council will never accept you.”

“Except...they already have,” Beron said. “That is, the ones who are still alive. The others, obviously, had to be replaced before we could reach an equitable consensus.”

Cassian watched as the rage melted to something colder on Nesta’s face, his own heart rate inexplicably picking up in response.

“You think it’s that easy?” Nesta asked, but Cassian could hear the growing apprehension in her voice. “To just steal my family’s dynasty?”

Beron only laughed.

“I know it is, because I’ve already done it.”

Nesta reached for her phone, making Beron laugh harder.

“Go ahead and check for yourself, if you like. Ruggieri, Lanzano, Perratta, all your most ardent defenders—all dead. All that remains now is for you to submit. Your days as capo are over, of course, but I think we might still find some position for you to continue to provide value. On your back, perhaps.”

“I was going to suggest on her knees,” Eris cut in.

“Get fucked,” Nesta snarled.

“You first,” Eris shot back.

“I’d rather die,” Nesta said, and in flash she’d unholstered a gun from the belt of one of the two bodyguards she’d brought with her, pointing it directly between Beron’s eyes.

However, she was never given the opportunity to fire. No sooner had she raised the gun than the very same guard produced a garotte, stringing isn’t expertly around her neck.

“Fuck,” Cassian breathed, watching as Nesta dropped the gun to grappled with the cord now being tightened around her throat “They are going to kill her.”

“Tough shit,” Azriel said. “You know our orders.”

“Az, they are seriously going to kill her!”

“Then that’s her fault for not bringing more loyal guards. Stand down, Cassian!”

For a split second, Cassian did actually consider listening to his friend. Rhys had been explicit in his command that they not interfere, and killing the acting head of the Archeron ‘ndrina was not actually subtle.

However, when he remembered what it was Nesta Archeron represented and what she was being sacrificed to uphold, his decision was made.

Bounding up the stairs and unholstering the small snub-nosed revolved he’d smuggled past the metal detectors earlier, Casshain immediately fired at the man currently choking Nesta, hitting him twice in the chest. The man went down with a thud, as Nesta felt to the carpet coughing. It was then that Cassian realized he probably ought to have put slightly more care into his plan now that he was outnumbered four to one. However, before the remaining guards or the Vanserras could react, there was a loud bang and a shattering of glass below, followed by screams as one of the massive crystal chandeliers smashed on the floor.

Azriel.

Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve Az had bought him, Cassian fired at the next two guards hitting one in the chest and one between the eyes. Beron and Eris, clearly not willing to become Cassian’s next victims, both dove for the balcony, preparing to use the crowd below to cushion their fall.

Just as the famed Il Barone turned to flee, he pointed a finger at Cassian in menace.

“Whoever you are, you are dead. You both are.”

Cassian’s only response was to fire his final bullet at Beron, which grazed his shoulder just as he and Eris escaped.

“If by some miracle we make it out of here alive,” came Azriel’s voice as Cassian crawled towards where Nesta lay, breathing but now motionless, on the ground. “Please know that your days will still be numbered. I am literally going to kill you for this.”

“Get in line,” Cassian said, tentatively reaching to check Nesta’s pulse. “ Il Barone just promised the same.”

Just as Cassian’s fingers brushed the soft, delicate skin of Nesta Archeron’s neck, she flipped over, eyes bloodshot but still full of alacrity as she broke twisted his hand with a hard jerk, snapping two of his fingers.

“Fuck!” He said, but she didn’t stop, using his pain as a means of distraction before ripping the baseball cap he’d been wearing off his head and staring dead into his eyes.

“Whatever it is you think you want from me,” she snarled, eyes continuing to devour him. “You can’t have it.”

Cassian only bucked her off of him, breaking her grip on his wrist and—broken fingers be damned—flipped her onto her stomach. Quick as an asp, he jabbed her in the side with a fast-acting sedative that—until this very moment—he’d never fathomed ever finding a use for.

In less than a minute Nesta’s struggling ceased, and a quick check of her wrist told Cassian that she was alive but unconscious. Not that it mattered; the damage was already done.

She’d seen his face.

“Are you clear?” Came Azriel’s voice. “Back door, five minutes. Naz is already waiting in the alley with a car.”

“I can’t,” Cassian said, surprised to find his voice cracking with emotion. “Archeron made me.”

“She what?”

“She got the jump on me when I went to check her pulse and saw my face. I’m can’t go back with you and risk blowing your and Naz’s cover.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Azriel said, voice stern.

“You don’t have a choice. When she comes to—”

“Fine, then just shoot her before she does.”

“If I kill her, what was any of this for?”

“Then I’ll shoot her—”

“Just go, Az! I’ll lay low in Cosenza for a while and when I’m sure the heat has died down and it’s safe to come home, I’ll call you.”

There was a long-suffering sigh before—

“Bring her.”

Cassian, despite everything, felt the absurd need to laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“Bag her and let’s go. We’ve been here too long already.”

“Our orders were not to get involved. What do you think the boss is going to say when we come home with an Archeron as a hostage?”

“If you don’t bring her, then you might as well shoot her,” Azriel said. “Because when Il Barone finds her, he’s just going to kill her.” He paused before adding, “Or worse.”

He had a point there.

Glancing around for a suitable blindfold and finding none, Cassian ripped a measure of fabric from the hem of Nesta’s dress and tied it around her eyes.

If she didn’t hate him already, she was definitely going to hate him for that. Kissing the archangel medallion hanging around his neck, Cassian heaved a still-unconscious Nesta over his shoulder and took off down the stairs, marveling at the chaos that Azriel had managed to created and then evade as he jogged to the back door.

His friend was already there waiting for him, his normally glossy black hair damp with sweat and his eyes teaming with high emotion.

“Az, I—”

“No time,” Azriel said, kicking the door opened with a booted foot and all but shoving Cassian through into and into a waiting SUV. No sooner had Azriel leapt in behind him and shut the door then bullets began pinging off the armored side panels.

“Drive, Nazaret!” Azriel demanded, and the Land Rover peeled out down the alley and into the narrow streets of Cosenza. It took 25 minutes of elusive driving, but eventually Naz was able to lose their tail, guiding the car to a secluded helipad where a chopper was already waiting to take them across the Adriatic to Rhys’s estate in Croatia.

All told, the journey took about four hours, and with Azriel refusing to speak to or even look at him, Cassian had nothing to do but debate his sins.

He’d gotten in the middle of a ‘Ndrangheta dispute, killed Italian made-men, and kidnapped mafiaso royalty—all offenses the ‘Ndrangheta would never let go unpunished. And Christ, that was to say nothing of Nesta Archeron would try to do to him when she came to.

His fingers still throbbed from where she snapped them. Merda, was she going to be so pissed when she woke up.

And what about her sisters? Though both younger and—by all the intelligence Rhys had managed to gather on the Archerons—less involved in ‘ndrina business than Nesta had been, they were still ‘Ndrangheta by blood and birthright. Cassian seriously doubted they’d be taking the abduction of their sister laying down, which meant that they’d have to be dealt with as well, and soon.

But before all that, he’d have to deal with Rhys.

Cassian had (rather stupidly) hoped that perhaps Az would pity him enough to delay telling Rhys what had happened in Cosenza. However, he knew it had been wishful thinking when the plane touched down on the small runway which abutted Rhys’s villa and the man himself was standing on the tarmac, arms crossed and dark hair whipping across his forehead from the engine.

Glancing at Nesta’s form to assure she was properly attended, Cassian didn’t waste him dowdelling. He trotting down the steps, he opened his mouth to begin explaining himself before his friend held up an imperious hand to demand silence before gritting out, pearly teeth bared in a snarl:

“What the fuck have you done?”

Tagging some random parties: @tswaney17 @keshavomit @live-the-fangirl-life @katexrenee @mightymorphingayagenda @justgiu12 @vasudharaghavan @sayosdreams @123moiaussi @readingismyonlyhobby @jungleslang @nikethestatue @empress-ofbloodshed

If you don’t want to be tagged or you do, let me know!

#I’m back I hope?#Omerta #Nessian mob AU #Nesta x Cassian #New Fic

234 notes · View notes

hellas-himself · 4 years

Text

Hellas-Himself Fic Masterlist

Feyrhycien

Where There Are Shadows (Complete)

The Mob Au (Ongoing)

1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20

21|22|23|24

Nessian

Where There Is Fire (Ongoing)

1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16

Elriel

2018 Elriel Secret Santa (Complete) for @thebriarpost

The Elriel Holiday AU (Complete)

Ch. 1 Welcome to Illyria

Ch. 2 Azrielito’s Favorites

Ch. 3 Remembering Things

Ch. 4 Noche Buena

Ch. 5 Together on Christmas

Ch. 6 Año Viejo

Ch. 7 Feliz Dia de Reyes

Ch. 8 A Trulla for Reyes

Ch. 9 It’s a Surprise

Ch. 10 Home

Crack Ship Holidays

Cassian x Feyre

Halloween

1|2|3|4 (Complete)

Friendsgiving

1|2|3|4|5 (Complete)

Christmas

1|2(Ongoing)

Dragon Age

Well, shit.

Prompt #86: What’s so funny?

ZevWarden Week 2020

Trenzas

Admiration (Art)

Weak Spots (nsfw art)

Sacred

Hands/Opening Up

Antivan Bad Boy ( nsfw art)

Dressing Up (art)

Flirting (art)

ZevWarden Week 2022

Day 1: Culture

Day 2: Gold

Day 3: Fights and Reconciliation

Day 4: Alternate Universe

Day 5: Promises

Day 6: Death

Day 7: Seasons

109 notes · View notes

arinbelle · 3 years

Text

Made (Nessian Mafia AU)

Notes: Wow, this was a fast one. Yes Nesta’s parents are alive. I feel like I can add more drama by keeping them alive and really explore the dynamic between Nesta and her mother. Really get into the antagonism, ya know?

Warnings: swearing, some kissing

Enjoy!

Part I: 2 years ago

“I wondered what sort of woman loved a man like that”- Jon Ronson

~*~

It wasn’t often that Nesta let herself think about Cassian.

Not anymore.

Nesta wasn’t that girl anymore. Doe-eyed and innocent. Stupidly naïve was more like it. But not anymore.

Yet, something about the day had her remembering a certain enigma of a man she’d met one fateful spring day in the middle of the night a year ago. Maybe it was the fact that she was back in his city, although the hotel they were staying in was nowhere near the territory where she knew Cassian’s family stayed in.

Her mother hadn’t said much about what was going on, why this impromptu trip was even needed, especially to the one state in the US that they never traveled to. But that was the thing about being in a mob family and being born a girl. No one actually told Nesta anything.

“I wish Feyre were here,” Elain muttered into Nesta’s shoulder as they entered through the hotel lobby.

She agreed. Feyre had a way of making some bleak situations, well, not so bleak. Not that she would ever outwardly admit it. Things had been strained between them for a few years now. Not outright hostile anymore, but still...

They weren’t best friends and that wasn’t likely to change for a long time.

Nesta didn’t blame her for the animosity. Nesta blamed herself more days than not on what was wrong with them. With all of them, but mostly herself.

“She’s busy with important stuff. You know that,” Nesta tried to assure Elain. Feyre had her first week of classes in college and had opted to stay. Her excuse?

It’s important, Feyre had told her parents two days ago.

Elain snorted. “She’s staying back for syllabus week.”

Yeah, that was true. Feyre was milking the college excuse but Nesta couldn’t really blame her. How many times had she herself claimed a too busy schedule to avoid coming home and having to deal with her family. Wasn’t that why her and Feyre couldn’t stand more than two minutes in a room together anymore anyways?

Nesta just held Elain’s hand tighter, no longer wanting to think about Feyre’s pointed absence. Their mother’s heels clicked on the shining marble floor ahead of them, their father already speaking to other similarly dressed men in the center of the lobby.

Nesta let herself zone out, in no mood for whatever was going on. Elain chattered on to her about what her plans were for when they went back home. Elain hadn’t bothered to go to college, content with living her life in her garden and her friends from other associated families. Nesta couldn’t imagine it. She’d raged and screamed at the notion that she not be allowed to attend college when she’d graduated high school. Had gone on a self-appointed hunger strike and raised pure mutinous hell in their household. Her mother hadn’t budged, more concerned with eligible matches that she could set Nesta up with.

Her father had returned home in the middle of a screaming match stand-off in the living room with her mother, having been told nothing of what was brewing at him home for the two weeks he’d been away on “business.”

Her father hadn��t wanted to hear a word of it from her mother, horrified that Nesta wasn’t allowed to go on to study just because she was now legal to marry.

There was lots that Nesta begrudged her father for. Both her parents for actually. But she’d been grateful for his support of her to study. His unwavering resolve to let her apply as far away as possible, which she did, and stay away too, which she also did. She never heard a bad word about it from him.

Her mother was a different story altogether, but, that was the case for her entire life anyways.

Feyre had once softly told her, after being accepted to the school of her dreams, that she had Nesta to thank. That without Nesta’s stubborn insistence on going to college and changing the norms of most families they’d grown up with, Feyre never would have had a chance at doing the same. It may have been the one rare time when they weren’t at each other’s throats.

Nesta vaguely registered that she was being led into a spacious dining hall and Elain was pushing her into a chair besides her.

Lavish table decor, expensive wines, and various pastas and meats filled the table. Nesta didn’t have much appetite for anything except the wine, sipping slowly on the merlot while more of the chairs at the table were filled.

“Mom,” she called out lightly, knowing how much her mother hated when Nesta talked too loudly.

Act like a lady for God’s sake Nesta.

“Mom!,” she tried again, pulling her mother’s attention sharply onto where her and Elain were sitting. If looks could kill, Nesta would have died a thousand deaths by now at her mother’s glare. Thankfully for her, the most damage that could be done was a sharp rebuttal or public verbal lashing. But given just how public it was at the moment, Nesta's mother bid some other mob wife she was talking to goodbye and made her way over to her daughters.

Taking up the seat besides Nesta, Laura Archeron was the picture of elegance and cold, cruel refinement. It was like she was born for this life, which Nesta found highly amusing given her mother’s true roots.

“What is it?,” she hissed into Nesta’s ear. “Can you not wait for me to sit down before calling out for me like I’m some servant? Mind your manners Nesta, there are people here. I won’t have you making us look like classless people.”

Nesta bit her tongue, not giving into temptation to remind her mother just how classless she could be too.

Ignoring the reprimand instead, Nesta focused on her mother, who was now smiling graciously at another set of women entering the hall. “Why are we here?”

“Business deal,” Nesta’s mother gritted out through a forced smile, barely moving her mouth as she spoke.

“Okay but why are we here?”

In fact, why were there so many women here? Nesta wasn’t allowed to know much about the famiglia business, but she understood enough to know business deals, whatever they were about, were never done in the presence of women or children.

Nesta’s mother gave up any hope she may have had at playing the charming pretty wife, wiping the smile off her face before properly facing Nesta. Shrewd, calculating eyes met her own. The same eyes on her face. On Feyre’s face. A cruel reminder of what they were both made of and capable of being.

“There’s a meeting happening with a rival family. The wives were invited from both sides to ensure there was no bloodshed today. I don’t know anyting more.”

Well that was probably a lie, because unlike other families, Nesta’s father did actually tell his wife about the current happenings in the mafia. To better protect them all he’d told her once.

But it made sense. Meetings with rivals tended to get heated pretty quickly, and one or two body bags in the end wasn’t rare. But the men tended to keep it together if their wive’s safety was in the balance. Nesta scoffed and her mother spared her a wary glance before rising from her chair.

Nesta found it pathetic sometimes, how the men acted about their wives. How they prized them, or acted like it, when it came to threats of death or torture. The reality was just that they didn’t like their possessions being tampered with.

How many cousins did Nesta have in loveless marriages? How many times had she had to help cover up bruises for them in case their was a party and people started asking too many questions?

“I heard they have a new boss,” Elain muttered into Nesta’s ear.

“What?” That was new. She hadn’t heard anything about it. Although it could be because there were five prominent New York families in the Cosa Nostra. Any one of them could have had a leadership change.

Nesta briefly remembered Cassian telling her about their own leadership, cursing their current boss to hell and back. That had been after he’d kissed her senseless in front of the ocean and then taken her back to the backseat of his car. Where they’d kissed some more. Talked some. Then kissed again.

She’d never met anyone like Cassian. So free with his affection, his humor. Gods knew she hadn’t been raised to be so free with her emotions.

He’d told her of his adoptive brother Rhys and how the plan was for Beron to be replaced by him when he retired, or if he died. Nesta registered that Cassian seemed to be rooting for death over retirement but she hadn’t questioned it further. Instead she had asked why Cassian couldn’t be Capo instead.

Cassian had laughed at the question.

“Not my thing sweetheart. It’s going to take a lot to attempt to convince me to go for the seat. And even then, I don’t want that responsibility.”

“What do you want then?,” she had asked openly.

What she hadn’t expected was the ravenous look on his face or for him to press his lips to her swollen ones again.

“Right now, all I want is you,” he’d spoken against her lips, before slipping his tongue in and clashing with her own.

Nesta had been thrilled at the desire in his voice. At the fact that she seemed to have this much control of a man who, by all means, should not be losing it to her. And had reason not alerted her senses she wouldn’t have stopped him either.

He’d been surprised when she had pushed lightly on his chest, pulling them apart, but not forceful.

“I’m not going to have my first time be in the backseat of a car with a guy who I’m never going to see again,” she’d explained slowly after a few awkward minutes.

To his credit, Cassian hadn’t missed a beat at the fact that she’d told him she was a virgin. Had only joked that if backseats weren’t her thing, he had a king-sized bed back at his apartment that he was more than open to bringing her to.

Nesta would have done it. She knew that deep down, and it had terrified her. She’d just met the man and yet, boundaries hadn’t seemed to exist with them. Had melted away into a nonsensical puddle of glinting hazel eyes that she couldn’t seem to stop falling into.

But Cassian hadn’t forced her into doing anything she didn’t want. When the first rays of dawn began to creep up in the horizon, and she asked to be dropped back off to her hotel, he’d done so without complaint. Had kissed her one last time making her breathless and wanting all over again, right before she opened the door to let herself out.

The last thing he’d said to her was she should visit more often. Nesta had laughed and laughed and laughed. Neither had said anything about how doomed they were. How they were never going to see the other ever again. Not in this lifetime anyways. Nesta had stopped hoping for miracles not too soon after they’d parted, the imprint of his lips on hers the only invisible proof left that they had met once.

“Hey, Nesta. Hello-ooo?,” Elain droned, trying to capture her attention. Nesta turned to her sister, shaking her head of the memories that had no business being resurfaced in her mind anymore.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I-,” Elain started, but cut herself off. Her chocolate brown eyes fixated to behind her, and at the sound of voices murmuring and rising around her Nesta turned to look too.

A new group of men entered. All in black, just like the men from her organization, but different. There was something wholly different about them. The first one she noticed looked like he had been carved from stone.

Beautiful. Exquisite. But cold. Oh so cold looking, from the empty look in his eyes down to the stiff set of his body. Ready to spring at any danger that may present itself.

“You’re drooling,” she muttered to Elain, for which she got a pinch on her thigh from under the table. Nesta muffled her yelp, glaring back and trying not to laugh at the blush that had overtaken her sister’s cheeks.

Nesta’s mother suddenly appeared beside them, taking a seat next to her daughters and ushering them to stop talking.

“Mom?”

“Nesta for God’s sake not right now. Don’t talk. There’s a new boss coming and-”

“Yeah I know. Elain told me. Who is it? Which family is this?”

Laura shot Elain a glare at what she had revealed to Nesta and pursed her lips in irritation. But she did answer.

“Genovese. It’s the Genovese family.”

Elain stiffened beside Nesta, stealing the same reaction that she was about to have but clamped down against. So it was Cassian’s organization. She wondered if she was looking at the Rhys that Cassian had mentioned to her but didn’t recognize. Was it the man that Elain had instantaneously developed a crush on? Nesta didn’t think so, since the seat at the head of the table still remained empty.

Nesta spared a glance to her right, at the opposite end of the table where their own boss sat. Nolan Ricci’s face was already set in a frown and Nesta couldn’t help the small thrill of satisfaction that rushed through her at his foul mood.

Whoever this new boss was, he was making Nolan wait. The ultimate sign of disrespect, but since it was Nolan, Nesta would praise him internally. There was no loss of love between her family and the ruling boss’. Not after what his son Grayson had done to Elain. Nesta had to give credit to Elain for not launching herself at him every time they ran into each other in public. Nesta knew she might kill the man if she were ever treated the way Grayson had treated Elain.

“Do you think...,” Elain started to whisper again, only to have it fall on deaf ears. Nesta’s attention was completely focused on the figure approaching the open doorway to her left. The one who was taller than almost all the other men around him, save for a few guards here and there. The closer he got the more Nesta’s stomach turned to butterflies.

It was Cassian.

Older, larger, if that was even possible, and so much more lethal looking. A dark gun glinted against the chandelier overhead as he unstrapped it from his hips and passed it to an Enforcer on his left. Unbuttoned his suit jacket before sitting down, all at his own leisure, as the rest of the room watched.

Waited.

Nesta didn’t even breathe.

Cassian gave a small, vicious smile to Nolan before letting his eyes scan briefly around the room.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

He had seen her.

No one else could probably tell, but Nesta could. Saw his eyes pass over her body, leaving fire in its wake that no one else seemed to notice. Saw the way he slightly lingered on her before remembering where he was and who he was, continuing on before facing Nolan again.

Capo. Boss.

“Nolan.” The greeting was cold, oh so cold and beautifully cruel. Nesta didn’t recognize even a hint of the man she couldn’t take her gaze off of. No hint at the soul she’d seen more than a year ago on a cold beach in the middle of the night. Nothing. This was a complete stranger.

A stranger she was completely fixated on and unable to stray from, but a stranger nonetheless.

“Cassian,” Nolan snarled. “You’re late. I won’t-”

“You’ll survive,” Cassian interrupted, leaning forward in his chair.

Stunned silence. No one interrupted the boss, definitely not in such a public setting. But, Nesta supposed, Cassian was a leader in his own right. And this was his territory too.

Also that was really fucking hot.

Elain shot her a knowing glance with a small smile and Nesta glared until she stopped.

He continued on as if nothing had occurred. “We came here for peace, yes? Let there be peace then. I look forward to conducting business with you in the future. You and your family,”

Heads turned to Nolan for a response. A minute ticked by. Then two. Then three. But Cassian didn’t lose the glimmer of a smile on his face. A smile that seemed to promise dangerous retribution if Nolan didn’t comply.

“Yes,” Nolan finally settled on. Grudgingly. “Let there be peace. And let there be food.” A snap of his fingers had servers scattering to serve everyone.

~*~

The meal went without incident, which she found to be a generous gift in and of itself. Nesta tried her best to keep her attention on the food in front of her- delicious food that her Gwyn would die to try and photograph for her food Instagram account. But Gwyn and Emerie hadn’t been able to come to this visit either. Nor were their families heavily involved in the business as Nesta’s was.

Try as she might though, every few minutes her traitorous eyes wandered up from her plate and glanced at Cassian. Cassian who was speaking to people from his own side and hers, with equal delight and politeness. A true leader, unlike Nolan who couldn’t seem to keep the sulk off of his face.

But Cassian wasn’t ever looking at her. Even Elain threw her a sympathetic look when she looked away from Cassian for what had to be the fifteenth time over the span of three minutes, with no results.

“Shut up,” she muttered to her sister.

“I didn’t say a thing.”

Yes, she hadn’t. Elain knew what Nesta had done that night she’d left in Cassian’s car from the club. Emerie and Gwyn too, but no one else. Perhaps Elain was the only one who hadn’t actually believed Nesta when she’d said it was a brief hook-up that meant nothing to her. That Nesta hadn’t stopped thinking about how Cassian had kissed her and left her dizzy for weeks after the fact. That it had taken such a long time for her to stop remembering him at least once in a day, and even then, to not feel desperately empty when she did.

But Elain didn’t say a word about it and Nesta was grateful for that.

When dinner was done, Nesta trudged silently behind her parents as they made their way up to the rooms. She was still too occupied with thoughts of a certain rival mafia leader and curiosity on whether this so called peace would last very long.

“Oof. Watch it!,” Elain hissed as their bodies collided into each other, and then their parents in front of them.

Why had they stopped?

Oh.

Cassian and his enforcers stood at the top of the steps, just off to the side, overlooking the lobby below. Her father was the first to move, extending his hand to shake Cassian’s, speaking in a low voice to congratulate him on his new title.

Cassian was perfectly polite as he thanked her father. Greeted her mother and kissed her on both cheeks.

“These must be your daughters,” Cassian declared after they’d exchanged a few more inane pleasantries. All attention turned to Nesta and Elain.

Nesta, unlike Elain, could control what she gave away on her face, and it was easier for to keep the cool, unimpressed look going. Elain on the other hand almost instantly began reddening under the scrutiny. Or perhaps it had something to do with the man from earlier that was standing next to Cassian, who Elain hadn’t been able to look away from.

“They are!,” her father smoothly stepped in. “Elain here is my middle child, my youngest, Feyre is in college, and this is Nesta. My oldest daughter.”

Elain stretched out her hand to shake Cassian’s, practically an unheard of thing from a boss to a woman of a rival familia. But Cassian shook it good-naturedly, flashed her a pretty smile that could send even the coldest bitch in the world blushing, herself not included, and then turned on her.

“Nesta actually just finished graduating from university this year,” her father proudly announced. “From Stanford.”

“That’s impressive,” Cassian observed. “What was your major?”

“Psychology,” she told him. “And English,” she added on. “I double majored.”

And I have no idea why I told you that.

Cassian’s eyes lingered a bit too long on her face. “Very impressive,” he murmured, as if there weren’t others around them. He seemed to think the same thing she did then, dropping his gaze, clearing his throat, and meeting her father’s confused expression.

“It’s getting late, I’m sure you’ll all want to be going to bed soon. I’ll leave you to it. Buona notte.”

The rest of her family quietly repeated the goodbye back, but Nesta didn’t. She wasn’t sure her voice would work anymore in Cassian’s presence.

She dropped off Elain and her parents to their own set of rooms, walking towards her own a few doors down.

~*~

Except something stopped her. Some strange sense of being watched. She swiped her key card at the door's sensor but didn't move to open it.

Somewhere in her mind, something told her to stop. That this was a bad idea. That there was no good end to whatever she thought she could pull off.

Yet, reason hadn't helped her a year ago when she'd met him, and it had no business showing up now.

It wasn't hard for Nesta to get his room number from the new, young receptionist at the front desk. Too overwhelmed with the work she was handling along with the multiple ringing phone lines, it had been easy as lying that she'd arrived earlier than her husband and that he had booked the room not her, and that was why she didn't know her room number or have a key. What was a poor girl to do?

Really, it was just too easy.

But it wasn't easy to bring herself to knock on his door when she was standing right in front of it. By the Gods what was she thinking? She wasn't even in proper clothes. She realized as she looked down at the flimsy robe overlaying a thin nightdress that her mother would die from if she knew Nesta owned and wore it.

Knock. Just knock. You'll never know if you don't.

Nesta raised her hand to the door, and twisted her wrist slightly to strike forward-

The door swung open abruptly, and there he was.

Cassian smiled at her. No. The asshole smirked.

"You're late."

Taglist: @purpleglitterypinecone @sv0430 @gwynberdara @karmasworlds @bookstantrash @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @queenestarcheron @nessiansimp @cassianscool @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @vasudharaghavan @sayosdreams @moe8 @arielle-reads @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @nahthanks @oversizedbats @swankii-art-teacher @inardour @rowaelinismyotp @starryblueskies7 @nestaarcher0n @vidalinav @nessiantrash @lanyjoy-13 @iwastoowildinthe70s @nessianlordandladyofillyria @ladygabrielli1997 @moonlitchandeliers @vanzetanze @generalnesta @drielecarla @moodymelanist @wishfulimaginings @amaranthas-whore @simpingfornestaarcheron @generalnesta @18moneytoad

#acosf #nesta #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta and cassian #cassian #nessian au #nessian mafia au

188 notes · View notes

anidealiveson · 3 years

Text

Thanksvember Master Post

Day 1 - Like Coming Home - It has a super rare “wholesome plot twist”! Without spoiling anything too huge, I really like that @julesherondalex took the time to talk about how important it is to take care of yourself first. You can’t love someone else properly, the way they deserve, if you don’t have that same love for yourself. I wasn’t expecting the heartbreaking scene, but the beautiful way in which that topic was was approached neither took away from the story or the joy.

Day 2 - Must Love Dogs - An incredibly fluffy (literally) fic that I loved reading. @rosehallshadowsinger did a really great job weaving Azriel and Elain’s canon personalities into this adorable AU scenario. It is obvious @rosehallshadowsinger took care to create believable personalities for two characters that didn’t get POVs in the books.

Day 3 - Striking Matches - I have to say that I wasn’t at all attracted to an AU fic about firefighters. I was also not a big Rowaelin fan before that, but I was work procrastinating so I gave it a try. Wellll, 30 parts later, I found myself delighted at the writing and sad it was over. I couldn’t believe how well @shyvioletcat cat was able to entirely re-characterize these two into such a different setting, yet still retaining what made them popular in the books. Aelin was perfect in her role as a snarky schoolteacher irritating the stoic firefighter Rowan. And the descriptions of the kids lining up at the firehouse demonstration and Jake’s adorable prodding was icing on the cake.

Day 4 - Close Quarters - I really loved the way @lady-therion wrote Nesta in this modern AU. I particularly like how she equates Nesta’s sometimes standoffish attitude as a very relatable personality trait. She has trouble reading people and gauging situations. It’s well written and the dialogue is unique for a plot that is common in ff!

Day 5 - Like A Lonely House - It’s got a colossal I love Lucy level misunderstanding mixed in with a lot of tension and angst. This Nesta that is full of sacrifice and duty and fire is how I imagine the Nesta who feels that she has a stake in the Fae world would be like. @featherymalignancy wove such a captivating new world in Macar, that it felt a lot like being introduced to the 8th court in the ACOTAR world.

Day 6 - Death Dance - There are several takes out there that touch on Nesta in the Ilyrian camps, but I love how @thewayshedreamed interpreted Nesta’s skills on the battlefield as a calculated dance. Nesta has always been a raging storm, but I love how @thewayshedreamed took care to show us a Nesta that channeled that storm into discipline. If SJM never intended to release a Nessian focused book, I would have considered this a satisfying end to their story.

Day 7 - One Night Standards - I love the way @sassyhobbits writes Aelin with her typical extremely sassy exterior, but also made sure to saddle her with a vulnerable side that runs deep. I normally don’t care for slow burns, but I like the pace of her relationship with Rowan here, and that they had to work hard at it. I also like the plot lines that involved their PR stunts and how the public grew to love them as well.

Day 8 - Goose Chasing - Its the most absurd plot of any fanfic I’ve read! The title is not figurative. Its really does involve chasing a goose. @rhysismydaddy did a fantastic job encapsulating the spirit of silly Cassian and grumpy Nesta in a situation they’d likely never find themselves in, yet making it entirely believable.

Day 9 - Manon Chooses The Worst Babysitter Possible - It’s such a casual and fluffy and hilarious read. It was fun to read about a softer and more delicate Manon. Through this absurd mistake, @sarah-bae-maas did an excellent job really humanizing Manon and postulating a fun in-world domestic scenario.

Day 10 - My Hunger Knows No Bounds - @perseusannabeth manages to take a simple concept and weave a sweet narrative. I particularly love how @perseusannabeth incorporated her personal details into it and took the time to share her lovely culture with us.

Day 11 - Knowing me, Knowing you - We never got to actually see Aelin rule Terrasen (well we got a tinyyy bit) in the books. Though this was modern day, @nalgenewhore tells a fun story of what that could have been like.

Day 12 - Forever (is a long time) - @noodlecatposts takes Elide and Lorcan’s completely polar opposite personalities and spins an interesting (and frankly quite adorable) story. All the rules crack me up. My favorite Lorcan is the one that reminds me of Luke Danes from Gilmore Girls. Currently, he is in the middle of grumpily fixing up her flooded room, so I am sure that my favorite parts are yet to come.

Day 13 - Go Your Own Way - I appreciate @tomtenadia for putting to words a scene that I desperately wanted in ACOWAR or even ACOFAS. A lovely parallel to an equally lovely Fleetwood mac song.

Day 14 - In Which She Makes A Friend - It is no surprise that the fandom wants Nesta to find her place in the Illyrian mountains and even bring about some social change with the female warriors. But the way @bookstantrash got there was such a wonderful and endearing journey. Big fan of the callbacks to how Kaelin was treated and the similarities to a certain Illyrian warrior was when he was younger. We got to see a sweet Nesta, who I’d like to think was attempting to make up for some of her regrets through taking care of Kaelin.

Day 15 - The Ranch - As a huge fan of Sweet Home Alabama, its should be no surprise that I loved this fic by @tacmc . I enjoyed the slow change that we saw in a stubborn Nesta as she opened up to this new way of life and reconnected with her sisters and found a home with Cassian.

Day 16 - Felons - Such a unique interpretation of Nesta and Cassian. I really like the self-sacrificing Nesta angle and @rhysismydaddy did a great job weaving intrigue into the unraveling of what we knew to be a her innocence. I never read The Witness, but this really made me want to.

Day 17 - Of Books and Timber - Cassian offers to build a shelf for Nesta. The way @duskandstarlight goes through the entire range of emotions through Nesta is brilliant. She starts out with cold indifference, but by the end, we get from her a sweet and tender gesture of gratitude. Showing that meeting each other halfway with small gestures is all they ever needed.

Day 18 - You Should Sleep In My Bed More Often - I absolutely loved this quick exchange between Nesta and Cassian after she accidentally injures him. I can’t believe how much I laughed out loud when Cassian said “I need you to protect me closer”. @charincharge perfectly captured the teasing childish essence of Cassian and Nesta’s hilarious victim-blaming was so on the nose that I might have thought this was taken right out of ACOSAF.

Day 19 - The Right Swipe - I really enjoyed this take on the inner circle mixed with the super modern online dating plot. I especially love that @redisriding created genuinely realistic characters (body issues, social anxiety etc). Great read!

Day 20 - Goldfish Prompt - What a fun read. I love how frantic and much personality Feyre had here. I love how dedicated to her fish she was, and how that made her super endearing. Cute read from @azrielsiphons

Day 21 - The One With The Snowstorm - What I really like is that Cassian actually says that he is sorry for his part in Nesta’s exile. I am not bitter about it, but it was an interesting turn. They need to meet halfway here and I rarely see it so well written as @joysbell has done here!

Day 22 - Prompt - A lovely and cute and sweet prompt written by @crowsvalentine! I love the ramp up of suspense just to get to the hilarious payoff. Its adorable and worth the quick read.

Day 23 - Fix It - is one by @thewayshedreamed that I love in its simplicity. It’s a small little argument Cassian and Nesta get into, but its still compelling. It’s sweet and super endearing the way the two of them are written and the subtle way they work through it. Great read!

Day 24 - I Do Bad Things To You - The mob angle may have been done before, but I don’t think with as much care and regard that @tswaney17 has been giving it. I how the canon personalities of the characters translate so well into this modern AU. Its very obvious that @tswaney17 has done her research. I especially love all the details around Elain as a surgeon. The story is compelling and well written and every chapter has me wanting more.

Day 25 - Love Her Like She should Be Loved - This is an excellent fic that I really loved. @julemmaes did such a great job translating some of the canon tension from ACOFAS into a modern world. It’s ripe with emotion, drama and quite a bit of heart. I love how earnestly Cassian comes to Nesta’s defense even in the face of going against his entire family. I like the reference to some very real psychological struggles. I think a lot of people can relate to it.

Day 26 - Literally In Love - I really enjoy the subtle mystery that follows this entire journey. I enjoy that @julesherondalex keeps us guessing, while simultaneously weaving a sweet and tender story about two shy teachers and just a slew of mishaps worthy of a Shakespearian drama.

Day 27 - The Shadow Bond - I love Azriel, and this is such a wonderful fic by @radientwings focusing on how his shadows might work. His shadows are the one thing that I am most curious about him in the series, so it was lovely to read such a well written interpretation of them.

Day 28 - Exes and Oh’s - Just a shout out to @highqueenofelfhame for this lovely story about rekindling past love. I like that even though the plot was uncomplicated, the emotions were not. I love that Aelin didn’t have a perfect reason for what she did, but sometimes that is just how things are. This is a story about taking a second chance, whether it’s deserved or not.

Day 29 - Fever - I really love this fic called Fever. I enjoyed how @lady-therion portrayed Nesta. She hit the entire gammut of characteristics (snarky, worried, vulnerable, caring, short-tempered, flirty, you name it!) but it really worked here. I found this nurse Nesta to be endearing and relatable and the dynamic between her and Cassian was very sweet. Just go read the damned thing.

Day 30 - Baby Steps - I really really love this fic. @runesandfaes did such a great job in just so few words to show a really sweet moment between Chaol, Yrene and their daughter learning to walk. I love the parallel back to when Chaol was learning to walk and the cameo of the golden couch. So sweet.

#thanksvember #fanfics #fanfiction

81 notes · View notes