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tonystarchive · 10 months

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IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject. He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks. The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker? It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.”

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’ ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert. ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better. ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet. ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel. ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.”

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm. Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence. ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?"

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’ ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

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adelindschade · 2 years

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A Thousand Oaths (A Thousand Cuts, Part 21)

Extra long chapter to spoil you.

Link: Feysand hits a hurdle. Nessian stands their ground. Truth bombs.

Warning: Anti-Elain. Strong critique of Feyre.

“We wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t urgent,” Rhys insisted. “She literally won’t talk to anyone until she talked to you. Time is of the essence. We can’t afford to lose any more.”

Nesta stared blanking at the two, doing her best to quell the simmering response that she knew would raise a flame in her hand. The anger she could sense boiling was palpable. She kept her fingers locked and her eyes trained on Rhys, discovering Cassian’s words to be true: he avoided them like the plague. He look at just about everything else but Nesta herself, resorting to fiddling with his fingers like a bored child rather than pay her any proper respect.

It wasn’t that the request was disrespectful. Nesta would eventually work up the courage to confront either sister, finding Feyre was easier due to the fact Nesta had seen Feyre become who she was. As a mortal, she could not be told anything as an indignant and rebellious younger sister, but as Rhys’ ornament, Feyre had gotten prideful in her new title and overstepped too many times. Emboldened and yet, still terribly naïve. Her betrayal did not hold a flame to Elain’s backstabbing, who discarded her like a dog who was thrown a bigger bone.

Nesta found it was easier to forgive Feyre than the latter – something she had already come to terms with. Feyre was still young, and unruly. Discipline wasn’t instilled in her like it had been to the eldest. A wild child with a wilder streak, her whims dictated by the wind. It only came with Feyre’s nature to speak without consequence, trust too wholeheartedly, and act with reckless abandon. Only Rhys had adorned her with a crown, which didn’t pair well with her unbridled nature. Time would inevitably mature her, that is, if it were given.

Nesta did not take gratification that Feyre was feeling the same slight Nesta had endured. She could not derive pleasure from it. It wasn’t right when it happened to her, and it wasn’t justified when Feyre felt the brunt blow of it, too. Neither circumstance was condoned. Yet, Nesta had her own gripe to bear with Feyre, and until that was remedied, she refused to grant the pompous inner court that had wished her ill any favors.

They would not use her to mend the bridges they broke when she hadn’t been given a fair chance to repair the damage done from childhood woes. They denied her that with their constant meddling. It was only fair she comply to the earlier wishes to exclude her, even if it was outwardly malicious. Nesta decided she no longer would be exploited for their gain or stretch herself to the breaking point to cover for their pitiful foresight.

Cassian cleared his throat and Rhys jumped a little in his skin. They were engaged in their own private conversation, something Nesta was not privy to. In fact, she hadn’t said a word at all. When Mor called her out on it earlier, she replied with a mild bark: I was told to bite my forked tongue.

The humbled the blonde a bit, finding Nesta’ s cold stare wasn’t something she prepared for.

“I see,” Nesta murmured lowly.

“That is your sister. You haven’t seen her in months,” Mor interjected. “I don’t understand why you would forsake her! This is a terrible time for her. It’s like you’re punishing her!”

“I can’t understand why the people she would trust the most, who swore to protect her, would be the one to stake the knife in her back,” Nesta retorted. Mor bristled but said nothing.

“Here I thought I felt betrayed when my own sister cast me off to the House of Wind against my wishes,” Nesta recollected. “That pales in comparison to what you’ve inflicted upon her. Months of deceit because her husband – her mate – her supposed equal thought he knew better than her, and then conspired with her closest friends to ensure she was isolated from the truth. You have undermined the very institution of which you founded your court and put your bonds into question where trust will always be doubted from this point forward. That is a fracture I cannot repair for you. If you knew Feyre as well as you claim you do, this is not a surprise as to why she’d shut you out after discovering what her family is capable of. I may have been cruel with my words, and burdened her in our youth, but never this cruel,” she distinguished, reprimanding them in a callous, composed voice to contradict Rhys’ temper.

“You have centuries of experience to rival my mere twenty-and-some,” she continued. “You have elected yourself as the best candidate to handle all matters regarding my sister and I will hold you to it. This is a rift you need to atone yourself, and my sister is owed many apologies and more to assuage the hurt you’ve dealt her. I am in no position to do so for you.”

“I understand you are hurt,” Rhys bit back, controlling his temper with moderate results.

“None to rival the kind Feyre is currently inflicted it,” Nesta sharply interrupted, meaning every word. She had felt the blow not long ago and the pain still resided. She bore scars of all sorts to remind her. They wouldn’t be forgotten. “Perhaps you should condemn yourself to the House of Wind until you can see reason. Feyre should have never endured such betrayal from the people she trusted the most – who swore to put her above all else – and protect her,” she rose to a shout. Rhys winced and Mor stiffened, as if anticipating to be struck. She realized her hand was alight and Rhys fixated on it, eyes wide with fright and jaw tense.

“Yet, these same people have done nothing to own up to their words,” Nesta continued to berate without pause. She stood with a vengeance, feeling herself tremble slightly as her anger roused, and her veins rushed with a surge of heat that had her nearly sweating. “She is the one suffering. You may feel pity for yourselves, but don’t you dare claim victimhood when we both know Feyre is the only one who is justified to feel the way she does, and act accordingly so!”

A large hand coiled around her wrist, and she felt a squeeze. Cassian offered a reassuring smile, though it didn’t extend very far as she noted he was just as culpable as the other two for withholding Feyre’s condition from her sister. He’d beat himself up for it but this was not his moment.

“Some introspection and solitude might help clear yours mind and maybe you can finally recognize your own faults in this situation,” Nesta spat out bitterly, “rather than try to gloss over them in some misguided mindset that no good deed goes unpunished, or whatever mantra you chose to stand by in some shameful attempt to console yourselves. No one will acquit of your guilt. Pray that Feyre has mercy on you, for I certainly won’t,” she condemned.

“Now you’re being vindictive,” Mor lashed out, but her eyes lined with tears. Nesta had struck a chord, suspecting she might have even wounded the blonde’s amor.

“Now is not the time to address the past when there are more pressing matters at hand,” Rhys insisted, determined to stay on track.

Hypocrite! She heard herself scream in her head. She wondered if he heard her, if he tried to permeate her mind, enough to hear the ungodly shout. His eyes were still teetering to her hand, glowing the brightest of blues, and so hot it felt piercing cold on her skin.

Rhys had dismissed her completely, refusing to accept blame where it applied most. His lack of acknowledged infuriated Nesta to no end. For all the instances he condemned her for hurting Feyre with jagged words, he had inflicted a wound far deeper than anything she could have committed and was bold enough to deny it to both their face.

“Ah, yes, the rebellion,” she coldly redirected, fisting her hand. “You’ve been quite present in those mediations.”

Rhys bowed and pinched his nose, aggravated by her lack of cooperation.

She called it quits, unable to stomach the conversation much longer. She was feeling her blood pressure rise by the second. A moment longer, she would pop, and she was afraid her powers would overcome her. She need to get a hold on her emotions, and to do that, she needed to remove herself altogether.

“With friends like you, why would Feyre ever need enemies?” she bid with a snarl. She gathered her cake, and then Mor’s, and briskly exited the cramped room. Cassian did not attempt to stop her. He was too focused on Rhys, eyes too dark for anyone to believe Rhys was untouchable. Mor ducked her head, buried in heavy silence to held the room hostage after Nesta’s hasty departure.

A door slammed so hard the entire building shuddered from the force of it. Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin, wondering how the books didn’t topple from the shelves. She desperately wanted to retreat to their room – her oasis – and hide under the comfort of layers. It would be of no use and now, with the eerie silence lingering, she couldn’t help but let curiosity get the better of her.

She crept back out into the hallway, affirming the cabin was empty except for herself. There was a murmur outside the door, obviously anger, and it took a second for her to recognize the hum belonging to Cassian.

It would be wrong of her to ease drop but Nesta hated not knowing. It ate away at her, reminding her of the time prior she had been left out of the conversation where it concerned her most. Old insecurities awoke with an insurgence, impossible to shake off. She was already pressing her ear to the door before she had time to consider the consequences.

“The last time she was in Velaris, Feyre had called her an embarrassment and banished her to train – a punishment you thought fitting, Rhys, as you instructed me to be rigorous with her regiment! Amren called her a waste of space, confirming what she already thought about herself – a disappointment! An unwanted burden! Mor – I remember hearing something about how she’d do well in Hewn City! Do you remember what happened to you there? You really think she deserves to endure that kind of abuse?”

If anyone tried to speak, he’d shout over him. Cassian was livid and the entirety of the cabin was an echo chamber to carry his voice beyond. She felt his anger before she heard it.

“All of this was said to her face and then some! I said things to her that I regret with every fiber of my being, stupid things said in the heat of the moment that cut her deep! No wonder she did what she did at the House of Wind when she heard what she heard, and no one refuted it! If she’s told she’s worthless, and better off dead, of course she’s going to believe it when no one steps up to say otherwise!”

“Cassian,” Rhys intervened. He adopted a different tone. Nesta was alarm to hear him frightened.

“Shut up!” He silenced with a voice to rival thunder itself. “I am doing everything in my power to undo every little bit of damage I cause, and then more to disprove what you have all drilled into her. I’m proven wrong each day she opens up, realizing how I judged her too quick and too harshly! To get to where I want us to be takes serious time and trust! I’m committed to earning back her trust, and eventually, her heart, after everything I put her though – what we put her through! That’s not something that can heal overnight, Rhys! I nearly lost her, and I still am haunted with the image of her lying a pool of blood and remembering how close I push her to that point because I wasn’t listening, or patient enough, and I will not make that mistake twice! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” she could barely hear Mor reply.

“If I go back in there and she doesn’t have an appetite, or she shuts down and can’t bring herself to talk, I will blame you for her regression! I have waited this long and put in the work to gain her trust, so that she would want to be around me! I can finally enjoy those conversations and seeing her smile – and it is fucking breathtaking! And when she laughs? You will not compromise that!” he shouted. Nesta jolted back and she could only image how Rhys and Mor responded to such volume.

“You made a mess, and you will clean it up! Nesta has nothing to do with the lie you kept from her sister! Feyre has plenty to answer for herself! She has said damning things and kept the rest to herself, never shedding a light to a different side of Nesta we wouldn’t have imagined! Things that I didn’t know about Nesta that, had I learned prior, would have dramatically changed how I thought about her! I wouldn’t have said half of what I said if I discovered what I know now earlier!”

He was referring to the mercenary she followed into the woods in a vain effort to recover Feyre, or the way she was excluded from her sisters to be the prized mare – the daughter to ensure her family’s accession to society. He was talking about Tomas and the way she nearly subjected herself to a miserable marriage to a true brute of a man, simply to spare Feyre one less burden. The one who decided he was done waiting and tried to take what was not yet his. And that was after her mother snubbed the duke thrice her age because she thought Nesta was better suited for a Prince.

The second to last admission brought a red tint to his face that she had not seen before, and when he demanded the wood cutter’s name, Nesta genuinely feared for Tomas’ life. Even when she tried to placate his temper by assuring him that she had enacted revenge on Tomas herself, marring his features with a vicious bite that took an ear, Cassian’s wrath still simmered, and she prayed he wouldn’t hunt him down to avenge her honor.

“Nesta isn’t the only one who has said hurtful things that require an apology! And she shouldn’t have to explain herself to the likes of you who were so quick to judge – and that’s coming from me. I’m no saint either, and I know when to admit my shortcoming when I already assumed her character from what Feyre told me, and that swift judgement was very poor of me! A lot of us need some serious maturing and learn to bite ours tongues from time to time!”

She had an idea he aimed that particular jest at Mor, and she suppressed a smile. It was petty and she knew better than to relish in the possibility of her eating the words she callously thrown at her back in the tent.

“I know from experience what we say in the moment isn’t always forgiven! The damage is done – and it needs to be acknowledged! More so, we all need to heed that lesson, so it doesn’t happen again!” he spat, growing even louder which she thought impossible. How he hadn’t strained his voice or lost it was bewildering.

They had nothing to reply. Nesta assumed they nodded just to mollify him. Nesta was so engrossed in the conversation, she began to lean on the door to get more clarity. She knew Cassian had promised to re-prioritize, to put them first, but it was a different revelation altogether to hear him deliver the same testament to his friends – something he hadn’t done before.

It’s not like she doubted him – it hurt too much to even consider he’d back track, or that she had suspicions that’d undermine their progress. To hear the validation of him sticking to his principles and standing up for her when she was absent from the conversation brought an enormous smile to her face.

A consuming feeling mellowed her– and a strangely new one, too. This wasn’t like when Emerie defended her from taunts and jeers, or when Gwyn built up her confidence and kept her company when it seemed the world turned its back on her. This was Cassian holding his ground to the people he valued and drawing boundaries to protect her. Not even her father had been so bold to do that with her mother.

It was comforting to be heard, and understood, and another wave of comfort to feel loved like she did in that moment. She didn’t have to scream and yell; she didn’t need to endlessly plea her case; she didn’t need to push herself beyond her comforts to prove her value in some herculean tasks; she didn’t have to bear the brand of the villain and silenced because she had been scapegoated.

“No one is innocent here! We’ve all said things we need to atone for and when that time comes, she and Nesta will have a conversation without anyone else butting in! That’s for Nesta to decide! Feyre made the first move when she decided to overrule Nesta and now it’s Nesta’s turn to respond however she chooses! No one gets to rush that! It will not be forced, coerced, or botched! In the meantime, figure out how to apologize yourselves because you have so much to explain! I wouldn’t even know where to begin if I were in your shoes! Don’t expect Nesta to do it for you!”

“Then let us apologize,” Rhys inserted himself. The audacity of this man had Nesta reeling back. As if he hadn’t already had a chance!

“That wasn’t your first instinct when you barged in here?” Cassian promptly called him out, and Nesta wondered if he was reading her mind. Cassian wasn’t dumb – he was acutely aware of his surroundings. That’s what made him a General. His intuition was not to be overlooked. “This is her home, too! She will always be welcomed here!”

“And we’re not?” Mor balked.

“Nes is my mate! We’re going to plan future together when are ready to discuss it! If the Gods allow it, we might even be able to bring a child into this world, and I’d be delighted to have another, but at the current moment, my main concern is making her feel safe, and protected, and have a refuge she can rely on! This isn’t just my haven – it’s Nesta’s, too – and she will not endure being a prisoner in her own home when you come and go and bark orders and disrespect both of us!” Cassian thundered.

“I wasn’t being disrespectful,” Rhys supplemented.

“Yes, you were! You know what I explicitly told you from the day we discovered her nearly dead and then you go over my head, pop up uninvited, and make her uncomfortable because you fucked up again, and you think she’s your ticket out of the doghouse! You will not use her for your benefit! You dug yourself in a hole so you can crawl out of it!”

“We get it,” Mor exasperated, having the gall to express her exasperation with the conversation.

“Do you?” Something in Cassian snapped. He’d grown tired of her indifference, too, it seemed. “Then let’s talk about how both disrespect me, Mor. Let’s talk about Azriel.”

Howling wind and nothing else replied.

“I thought so,” he rapidly bit. “And you – you use Feyre as your mate to justify every cruel thing you’ve done – including what you’ve said and done to Nesta, without any regard to how that might reflect upon me! Am I supposed to stand aside and let you kick her around some more, mischaracterize and slander her name, when none of us could fathom ever committing an offense of that nature to Feyre?”

“It’s Nesta,” Mor barked back impulsively.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cassian snapped back.

“She’s not Feyre. She’s purposely difficult…”

Something compelled Mor to pause and Nesta shuddered to think what it was. Cassian’s quiet was unnerving. It wasn’t the insult that rattled Nesta, as she had become accustomed to Mor’s cruel indifference, but the fact that they maintained the mindset she was excluded from any kind of kindness for whatever reason. The wound dug deep.

What reputation Feyre garnered long before Nesta had a chance to defend herself against the defamation; whatever speculation they made about her cold exterior and justified it as fact; all of it contributing to this belief they stood behind that she didn’t deserve a chance…

That’s what prompted her to deflate, pulling away from the door. She was slow to retreat, suddenly feeling heaviest at her feet.

It’s not like she actively went out to spite them. Nesta didn’t reject them first – they made the first volley to ostracize her as some cruel sister who abandoned Feyre – and when she tried to give each party their respectful distance to prevent unnecessary conflict because their minds were made, and she did not care to argue her case to those who demeaned her, they construed it to be another offense she dealt against them – as if she were better than them! They’d always perpetrate themselves to be the victims in that scenario while happily playing the aggressors, concocting whatever justification they could to absolve themselves.

Nesta felt like she was a prisoner condemned to a lifelong sentence, already knowing her trial was a sham one. Not a single witness in her corner to contradict the damning accusations piled atop her.

“That’s my equal that fate has blessed me with, my other half, and the center of my world,” Cassian clipped. His tone rivaled the chill of the storm. “If something happens to her, I honestly don’t know if I could go on with this life. We’re a package deal now and nothing will change that fact. That’s how this works. If you disrespect her, you disrespect me, and she may not ask for it, but what kind of mate would I be if I don’t champion for her? If Rhys defends his mate as ardently as he does, I have every right to be more than upset over what transpired these past few months!”

Nesta could only hear muffles by the time she closed the door – quietly as possible – and slinked into bed, pulling the blanket high enough to cover her face. Cassian would argue with them for what seemed like hours. She could hear the harsh hum of voices bickering, but she paid no heed to them, already drained of energy. She did not have her to decipher what could be the next topic of contention. Eventually, her eyelids closed as the lull of sleep took hold, and she happily beckoned it.

She awoke in the middle of the night but realized it might as well be early morning. Winter had that effect. She came across that conclusion when she found the bed was empty, and the cabin quiet. Her curiosity compelled her to escape from the cozy confines of the bed to search for Cassian’s whereabouts.

The cabin didn’t shake or groan, and it was still outside from what she could spy from the passing windows. The storm died down a couple hours back while she had been asleep. A fire had been lit but otherwise neglected, leaving nothing but a trace of embers that glowed against the darkness.

Water was boiled and a cannister of tea leaves pulled, implying Cassian was awake – but for how long? Did he not sleep a wink last night? Was he too angry to get even a partial night’s rest? She crept to the door and pried it open, shivering with a blast of cold air struck her uncovered skin above the shoulders.

“Cass?” she called put.

“Hi Nes,” a groggy voice replied.

He was nestled outside, leaning on the cabin’s walls, with a hot mug. He sported a smile, however small, but genuine. She noted his disheveled hair and dark bags under his eyes. He seemed older and worn from a long night.

“It’s cold. What are you doing out here?” she asked, joining him. She supplied a flame to keep them both warm, thwarting the worst of the cold, while it flickered with each small gust.

“Did you have a good sleep?” he asked, cloaking her with his wing.

“Did you?” she returned, shuffling closer until they were pressed together. “I couldn’t tell.”

“A little but, you know me,” he said with some humor, “I’m an early riser. Did you get some tea? It’s still hot. I made it not long ago. I suppose you’re going back to work this morning with the weather permitting, so you could use to pick-me-up before we brave this.”

The still white scene was far more pleasant than the howling mass of grey that swarmed their cabin hours ago, threatening to either bury it or sweep it off its foundation. She gave him a tender smile, appreciating his effort to keep the atmosphere light when both of them were still tense.

“I’d like to be able to,” she replied contently. “I miss Em, and Corinne. I feel kind of drained, so we’ll see how far the winnowing gets me.”

“We can walk,” Cassian offered. “I don’t get to spend enough time with you.”

“It’s a long way,” she tried to joke.

“We’ve been slacking on training. We could make up the cardio before someone else calls us out on it,” Cassian bit back happily.

He succeeded in mustering a short laugh from her belly. He smiled in victory.

“I’m sorry you had a fight with your brother and Mor. I know how tightly knit you are,” she apologized. “I don’t want to cause discord. Just because my relationship with my siblings is dysfunctional doesn’t mean yours should, too.”

“And how exactly do you propose we amend that?” he asked rhetorically. Her mouth went dry, unable to find a reply. “You can’t because this isn’t your fault. This is on them, and they have a responsibility to repair it. They cast the first stone. You don’t need to worry about it. I’d rather you not,” he consoled.

“I don’t think they’ll ever like me,” she admitted with crestfallen eyes. She hated the turmoil she caused. It was the same insecurity that had her believing she didn’t belong in the dinners Feyre adored. Even if they spared her a seat at the table, it’s not like she’d be a welcomed addition. Feyre may have invited her, but it was obvious she was more captivated with other friends than she was with Nesta. The wall décor with Nesta’s absence may that painfully apparent. Territory was claimed and Nesta was the outsider they all preferred to cast out. “They’ll always fault me for something.”

“It’s about time to turn the mirror,” he surprised her with his answer. She looked up and cause cold, bristling air in her mouth as her jaw opened slightly. “They don’t have to like you, but they will respect you enough to keep those opinions to themselves. They could at least extend me that respect, and Feyre, too, if not out of courtesy for you. If Feyre can’t lead that example, I will.”

It was hard to fathom Cassian would ever find fault in her sister and yet, he was beginning to say things that implied he had a few criticisms of his own, and that was still very foreign for her to digest. In the months prior, any critique she had of either Feyre or Rhys was met with vigorous reprimand, and glowing praise for the two she supposedly slighted. Now, the tides were changing, and she wondered if Cassian’s self-impose estrangement from the court might have played a factor to that.

His eyes had that thousand-yard-stare that put his mind far away. She doubted she could rouse it back to reality.

“Eventually, they will see I have no intention to putting you second again. You were ready to die with me on that battlefield and I haven’t paid that in spades – but I will now.” His eyes were intense and solely fixed on her. “Don’t fret over what transpires between Rhys and I, or even Mor,” he waved off.

She wondered if there was more to the story. Cassian’s snip about Azriel plagued her. What was he implying that she wasn’t privy to? It was one thing for Cassian to bear it all – and he was trying to cover centuries of secrets and mysteries she had yet to know – but anything regarding Azriel was much like Azriel himself – a secret. She only understood a handful of things while Gwyn had direct access to the treasure trove of unknowns that was her mate.

Unlike the rest of them, Nesta would speculate given what she did know, but she wouldn’t let her mind wander off too far. It wasn’t her business, and she wouldn’t trouble them with prying.

“We have five hundred years of history,” Cassian asserted confidently, though his voice made it known he had been deprived of valuable rest. “We’ll overcome it like we do every other spat. But you?” he once again addressed her with soulful eyes. “I have five hundred years to make up for the time nearly stolen from us. I will not take that granted again. Defying death once is a feat, a second is daring, and third is tempting fate one too many times.”

“What do you mean by that – when you said my sister has things to answer to?” Nesta probed, unable to deny the temptation. It busied her mind before she fell to aimless slumber and returned with vengeance when she woke. It was so out of character for him to speak in that manner. “You were… loud last night. I didn’t want to interrupt,” she admitted humbly, ashamed she resorted to prying when it wasn’t her place.

“What I meant by that is Feyre is the only one I can think of who can stand up to Rhys and put him in his place,” Cassian elaborated. “She hasn’t and that’s a discredit to herself, and to you. He’s gotten away with a lot because we don’t call him out on it, but he respects her the most of out all of us.”

Does he respect her, Nesta wonder, or possess her? That afterthought had been a buzzing pest, something she tried to swat, but too evasive to rid herself of. It was the same reflection of doubt that had spurred her to deny what stemmed between herself and Cassian. She did not want to be regulated as a mere belonging – something to showcase – and then silence when she employed herself as a sentient entity worthy of her own opinion.

“She’s his mate and it’s about damn time he listens to her rather than feed her words or spin his when it suits him. I love Rhys as a brother, and honor him as my High Lord, but I ‘m not blind to when he has fucked up and done her a great disservice. She’s my friend and High Lady, too. If he disrespects her, I have a right to point it out as I cherish them equally. His failure to be the mate he promised to be is too reminiscent of how I failed you, too.”

Cassian shook his head and took her hand lovingly.

“I met you with a preconceived notion that was far from the truth, and I judged you harshly for it.” He mended. “I only knew the partial truth, given what Feyre had told us, and maybe she didn’t intend it maliciously, but her selective disclosure give us all skewed perceptions, and that lead us to believe something that is by all account fiction. I fault her some for but not as much as I hold Rhys responsible for the rift he caused. Rhys took what was said and ran wild with it for reasons I can understand, but not condone. Not anymore, not in retrospect. This whole debacle could have and should have been avoided if things were left alone, and abandoned in the past as they ought to, and we recognized each other as is, and in the present. If that had been the case, you would not be the outcasted sister, but rather, one recognized for her part in the war alongside the rest of us, and it’s a shame that has been overlooked.”

“Do not think I don’t see the injustice that you were held to higher fault than Elain,” he validated. The letters she discarded from her other sister did not go unnoticed. He had been observant, or she was too obvious. “I do. I believe Rhys favors her because of her gentler temperament but I do not,” he denied with a stern shake.

“I remember how you doted on her when she was unresponsive to the world, and how little she reciprocated when you suffered similar straits. I know it’s hypocritical of me to say so when I was just as negligent, but she is your sister – and she did nothing.”

No, not nothing, but something worse. She discarded Nesta when her presence became a burden, Nesta thought sourly. They were both frightened and traumatized but there was no allegiance when she chose which side to align with. No loyalty. No sympathy. Elain wiped her hands of the unwanted sister when Nesta had sacrificed everything for her. No gratitude was given, or acknowledgement to redeem her character. Nesta was disposable to Elain and that’s the knife that cut the sharpest, and deepest, and no doubt, would scar her forever.

Nesta’s eyes burned with tears and her lips wobbled as the wound began to bleed through, never quite healed, and always throbbing time to time as she reminisced on how Elain was the favorite of the three – and how much she benefited from their catering – and how terribly little she returned it.

“Elain is sheltered, and coddled, and I can recognize now how much leniency she was extended when you were not. I cannot turn my cheek anymore. The more insidious fact is that she denies it while enjoy the fruits of Rhys protection without fighting on your behalf with the same ferocity you fought for hers. It’s unfair, Nes, and I will not make excuses for it from this point forward.”

#anti ic #anti Elain archeron #you've been warned #nessian #nessian fic #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction #same name and author on a03 #l

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