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cdragons · 2 months

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When the East Winds Blow

Stannis Baratheon x YiTish Second Wife!OC (who also doubles as a childhood friend)

Aka: A WOC fixes all of Westeros' bullshit with a magic flute and is about to whoop a bunch of old white men's asses with a slipper because they need it ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Next Part

Summary: 美灵 (Měilíng) was a young girl from the port city of Shenlong in Yi Ti when she learns that she is the only living child of 徐浩然 (Xú Hàorán), a cruel and powerful merchant in Wan, and takes her to Westeros to expand his company. Scared in a new land, her only companions are her trusty flute and memories of her mother's stories. But she will have a friend who will change her life forever, and she will do the same for him.

Warning(s): MDNI 18+; Domestic Abuse; Child Abuse; Cersei is the worst; Tywin is the worst; Robert is a pig; Měilíng's dad is like 40 years+ her mom's age, and the worst; the story is going to be written like those Ted Ed mythic videos; Robb and the Northern boys and the other OC don't show up for a lil' bit, but it's coming

Author's Note: Please read this post for reference. Exams and ADHD are kicking my ass, and I need a distraction. Please do not repost without my permission. I did not come up with the names for the Yi Ti regions; that credit belongs to the brilliant @anya-snow. If you are interested in the names' translations, it is at the bottom.

From the Beginning:

“As she entered the world and cried out in victory for her survival – the fearsome, dark clouds parted, and the sun’s feeble rays shone only to pool the delivery room as the gentle breeze brought by the sea welcomed Xīwángmǔ’s new child, and the small wind chimes and bells danced in its embrace.”

In the Shenlong province, a young girl gave birth to a young girl. However, the baby was exceptional. As she grew, she showed to have a very cunning mind. She has met thousands of foreigners daily since being born in a port town. Her proficiency in learning foreign tongues alone caught the attention of one of the oldest and wealthiest merchants in Wan. Měilíng did not have much, but she had her mother and her simple life by the docks, and that was enough for her.

Xu Hàorán, an aging but powerful merchant in Wan, was the most important port city in Yi Ti. The merchant was very old, and his wife had long died without giving him any children. At the news of the child’s birth, he ordered the child and her mother to be brought to his home.

After seeing the child’s face, it was clear that this was his daughter. Recalling the time he spent with a girl from a poor fishing family years ago, he realized that Měilíng was the product of that night. Overridden with joy at the idea of him finally having an heir, he immediately ordered Mei to begin her education as he locked her mother in a small, dark room.

Měilíng despised her father. Soon, it became years since she saw her mother, and she missed the lullabies she would sing to her. She would long to listen to the stories of the great water dragons that controlled the storms and the seas.

But still, she decided to continue her education. She showed much promise at a young age for business and trade. She had a keen eye for craftsmanship and a talent for linguistics. Her proficiency in learning foreign tongues made her a vital tool in expanding her father’s company across the Golden Empire to Essos and eventually to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

In return for how rich his daughter made him, Měilíng’s father granted Měilíng one visit to her mother. When the pair reunited, Měilíng’s mother gifted her beloved child a flute from the bones of a basilisk killed by the great Dragon King, who ruled the sky and its storms from his kingdom in the sea.

Because of how quickly she learned Westerosi’s Common Tongue, her father decided it was best to bring her with him on the voyage to Planky Town in Dorne, where he hoped to expand his trading route to the pockets of the high nobility.

On the seas, a cyclone headed directly to the ship Měilíng and her father were on, but only Měilíng was calm.

Taking out her bone flute, she played a simple but beautiful tune to the sky, and the cyclone disappeared, and the winds brought their ships to Dorne in half the expected time. Although this story was kept secret by the crew under strict oath of Hàorán’s orders, she was soon called “风子” or “Child of the Wind.”

“Bewitched were the Martell’s – for they have never seen such finery in all their years. ‘What luster! What radiance!’ they exclaimed. After rigorous negotiations that resulted in a broken vase and spilled wine by thrown glasses, a trade was brokered, and the Xu’s have planted their first flag in the West.”

After reaching Dorne, the Martells refused to meet with the foreign merchant. They believed that any goods his ships carried had long become spoiled and rotten from the sea voyage. But they were shocked to find the fruits fresh and ripe, the herbs and spices’ scents had not dulled, and the porcelain vases retained their glossiness and shine. But what caught their eye the most was how superior their silks were compared to their own. Their roughest bolt alone was far smoother than the Princesses’ finest dresses.

The silks and fruits caught the eyes of a young Princess, Elia Martell, and her younger brother, Prince Oberyn. Fascinated by the riches, their curiosity was peaked by the olive-skin-toned girl, who wore strange braids and smelled of the ocean and wind.

Elia asked Mei if Yi Ti was anything like Dorne. Měilíng replied that only one region in her country matched Dorne, and it was Ren. She wove tales of how the Renii managed to thrive in the deserts and become masters of magi and developing technology and medicine. Although Mei had never personally visited Ren, she told the Donrish princess and her brother all the stories of the province she could recall from her lessons and her mother.

Měilíng asked Elia if there was any magic or dragons in Dorne. Elia laughed in delight. She told the foreign girl that Dorne did not have dragons, but they had vipers with poison so potent that it would instantly kill a ten-foot man. The Seven Kingdoms' only dragons were underneath the Red Keep in King’s Landing. But they were all dead. But there was no magic. This disappointed Měilíng.

Elia asked if Měilíng knew anyone, and Měilíng replied that Elia was the first person in Westeros she had ever spoken to. Amazed by the girl’s fluency, Elia exclaimed that she and Měilíng would be best friends for the rest of their lives. Měilíng thought the young princess strange but agreed nonetheless.

Seeing her children make friends with the merchant’s daughter, Princess Lorenza was pleased to see the strange girl smile. But Hàorán was furious. Greed from his newly gained wealth made him paranoid, and he thought Měilíng was ridiculing him in the Common Tongue. He faked a smile before hurrying his sale to the mother so that he may properly punish his willful brat.

After purchasing their goods, the sewists in Sunspear immediately went to work producing the finest garments for the upcoming ball hosted in the Red Keep at King’s Landing.

Meanwhile, Hàorán grabbed Měilíng’s arm and dragged her to the ship. He locked her in her room and told her she would not have any food tonight. They would leave for Yi Ti after the Martells returned from King’s Landing.

“Silence swept across the hall when the heralds announced the arrival of House Martell. When Dorne’s ruler and her children arrived, a collective gasp was heard amidst the hushed keep – never had anyone seen such pure, unadulterated beauty before their eyes. Every young girl, hoping to catch the eye of Prince Rhaegar and hold his gaze, felt fury flush their bodies. But no other girl was more envious than the little Lioness of Casterly Rock. Cersei Lannister, daughter of the Hand to the King, had come in complete confidence that she would be the most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms. But after gazing upon the young Elia Martell’s dress with silk-embroidered suns and stars, golden rings, and topaz diadems – she felt utterly and completely humiliated. She turned to her father to demand they go home, but his stern gaze made the spoilt and rotten girl stay silent in flushed shame.

Tywin Lannister was not faring any better. He had paid more than enough gold dragons to order the finest Dornish silks for his daughter’s dress – only to see it as a tacky, cheap counterfeit. But even he had to admit that Princess Elia Martell was the only girl whose beauty was worthy of watching the crown prince’s. Seeing how her father’s eyes were no longer on her, Cersei decided that she would do whatever it took for Elia Martell to die a miserable and painful death.”

Nobles crowded the Martells’ daughters and sons. They were driven mad with envy at their beauty– so rare to find silk so smooth and lustrous while remaining thick enough to keep away the chills in the evening sky as autumn chased summer away and winter was creeping on the Mad King’s doorstep.

One noble lady with embroidered turtles on her dress approached the Martell Princess. She was Lady Cassana Baratheon, nee Estermont. She begged her friend to tell her who gifted the princess with such luxury, and her friend revealed that her husband had brokered a deal with an old, wrinkled merchant from Yi Ti, along with his young daughter, who carried an old flute with her everywhere she went. She shared stories about how her little sun, Elia, was quickly won over by the foreign girl’s charms, and now they acted as close as sisters born from the same womb.

Cassana wished to know if they could invite the merchant to her home. She thought it would be cruel for such a sweet girl to be trapped on a boat with no companions.

“‘Oh, how wonderful it would be to have a girl around,’ thought Lady Cassana. ‘Robert has gotten too used to being so rowdy after being fostered in the Vale, and hopefully, the little merchant girl will straighten him out.’

Robert stood beside the table, its surface heavy with meats and sweet cakes. He was only ten years of age and had already managed to grasp the attention of every young man his age in the room. Her mind wandered off, thinking about her youngest son, Stannis, who locked himself away in the guest chambers after the Martells arrived—always studying, her youngest boy. Lady Baratheon adored her two boys, but she longed for the longest time to be blessed with a daughter. She thought if the Gods had blessed her and Steffon with a girl, she would help bring Stannis out of his walls and help reel Robert in. If what the Princess of Dorne had spoken true of this trader and his daughter, then Cassana had no doubt that she would make a truly excellent companion for her boys.

Back in Dorne, Měilíng scratched her ears. Had someone been talking about her? Was it the Dornish Ruler she met a few weeks ago? Perhaps Elia? Měilíng shook her head. Thinking someone would speak of her so much was a silly thought. She was only the daughter of a merchant who played the flute. Still, her ears burned as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. To forget her hunger, Měilíng brought her prized flute to her lips to ease her worries and blew to create a sweet but sad melody.

Back in the Red Keep, a young Stannis Baratheon had crept away from the banquet in the Great Hall. He despised crowded rooms, and Robert’s boisterous guffaws only added to his irritation. Once he entered his room, he opened the window and took out the book Maester Cressen lent him while packing for this trip. He had not begun reading it. But a stream of calm and soft notes entered his ear before he could read the title.

“A flute?” he thought to himself. He tried to remember the instruments played downstairs.

There were lyres, harps, and lutes. But there were no flutes. Stannis lifted his head and heard the sweet, silvery tune from the window. Book still in his hand, he decided it best to read his new book beside the window, where he could continue listening to the lovely melody. He glanced down at the book, finally reading the title.

The Golden Empire of Yi Ti”

Tagging: @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @a-libra-writes, @aphroditesmoon, @valeskafics, @anya-snow, @dreaming-for-an-escape and anyone who wanted more of the worldbuilding of GOT are welcome!

Translations: Mandarin was used for YiTish bc author is Chinese

美灵 (Měilíng) - "美" means "beauty" and "灵" means "spirit or soul"; it can be translated as "beautiful spirit"

浩然 (Hàorán) - "浩" means "grand or vast" and "然" is a conjunction and the author will look further into it; it can be translated as "vastness or expansive"

徐 (Xú) - a common Chinese surname that became popular in the Zhou Dynasty and has multiple translations, but the author chose the translation of "slowly."

瑶池金母 (Xīwángmǔ) - "Queen Mother of the West"; the wife of the Jade Emperor and mother goddess in Chinese mythology

风子 (Fēng zi) - "风" is "wind" and "子" is for "child"; it can be translated as "child of the wind"

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fromtheboundlesssea · 3 months

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The Pack Survives Chapter 108

Ned XIV

#ned stark #ned stark x oc #celia tully #my writing #celiaverse #the pack survives

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doodlesscribblesandbits · 1 year

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definitemadman · 5 months

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I have no explanation.....yes I do. I'm writing a fic about young Ned Stark.

#game of thrones #robert aramayo #ned stark #ned stark x oc #house stark #house Targaryen

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faeporcelain · 3 months

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⭐️🐺

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chiaracognigniart · 4 days

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The walls shielding the heart of politics crumble, and the Realm prepares for war, yet amidst the rising flames, flowers blossom and the rivers slow. But would the Mallister eagle rise above or succumb to the threat..?

Catelyn Stark and her sister Celia Mallister with their two children, Robert and Aemerie under the Heart Tree of Riverrunn

commissionated by @weirwooddreams for her fic,

The Ichor within our Pyre on Ao3

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zephyrrr101 · 1 month

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Take me away

Pairing: Robert Baratheon x Targ reader

TW: Abusive words, Harrasment, Talk of murder, Robert Baratheon being an angry chihuahua, all the ASOIAF world warning.

Cries echoed in the silent halls of Red Keep. Ned Stark frowned at the new sound that had tore through the almost deafening quietness. He turned to look at his companions in the throne room.

His friend, now King Robert Baratheon sat at the Iron Throne.

The same throne that sat many Targaryen kings on it. The same Targaryens that the now King had swore upon killing. Each and everyone.

He did not agree with his friend on this.

Rhaegar Targaryen had taken his sister.

Aeyrs Targaryen had killed his father and brother.

He had felt the fire of vengeance run through him until they were alive but it was quelled the moment he met his dying sister.

And then he had felt disappointed and regretful.

Thousand people lost. Innocents put to sword.

The only good thing he thought came out of it was the end of the Mad King, albeit he didn't like the way he was killed by the Lannister White Knight, but still was a relief.

Another cry shook him out of his thoughts, now much louder, and he then turned to Jon Arryn, his mentor and now the Hand of the King. "What is this? Who is it?"

Jon Arryn did not answer. Even he wasn't sure what was happening. It was clear from the confused look on his face.

His eyes then found that of the new Commander of Kingsguard, Ser Barristan. He looked terrified at the best. He could not think of what could leave the man such as him so struck with fear.

The door of the Throne Room opened.

Now he understood Ser Barristan's horror.

Stannis Baratheon, King Robert's younger brother, marched in. His arms wrapped around silver tresses, he much more of dragged the woman he had come to know as Princess Alyssanne, cries leaving her mouth along with words of pleads to let her go.

What in the name of Gods' was happening?

Stannis came closer to the steps of the throne and pushed the silver haired princess to the floor, left of mercy of all the men in the room.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ned asked and he quickly moved over to the princess.

Her hair dishevelled, her dress dirty and almost seemed to falling off her shoulders. He did the quick work of pulling his cloak off him and covered the princess. Her eyes raised from the ground to meet his. Purple eyes filled with tears and her cheek wet and red.

"The boy escaped with the new born girl," Stannis started, "the Queen was dead. We only got in time to capture her. Dragonstone is ours."

"And you this needed you to drag a woman in such state?" Ned glared Stannis. He had known him almost as long as he knew Robert. He was like his own brother too. But this man he did not recognise.

Stannis opened his mouth, anger surging in his blood. But before any words could leave him, Robert yelled at the top of lungs. "What do you mean they escaped?! What else did I sent you there for!"

Stannis looked at his brother in shock. How could he even say such thing. "It was not in my hand! Willem Darry looked as if he had it already planned. He quicked the younger ones out. It was fortunate we could capture her!"

"You could have gotten there faster! I sent you there to killed them all! Not to bring the bitch back!" He glared at his brother for a moment before his anger took it's turn to Alyssanne. "Where did they go? Where did those runts run off to!"

Alyssanne flinched seeing him stand. Robert was always a tall man with broad shoulders. It intimidated anyone who didn't know him dearly. And not know him, the princess did. She whispered out some words in terror, her hold on the grey cloak of Stark was deathly. And Robert roared his question again, making her crawl a little back.

"I don't know! Please! Robert, we are kin!" She cried out, her voice broken from screaming some moments before.

"Kin? Kin! You are no kin of mine!" Robert sneered, "I'll find each and every one of your filthy white haired bastard and kill them just like I killed that son of whore of your brother! Just like I'll kill you!"

"No! Please! Robert!" Ned had never quite seen any woman in such a distress. He didn't even know what he was to do. "They are but children! Please just... Let them be. Let me go. I will find them and make sure we never return to Westros. I swear it! Please!"

"Let you go!" Robert looked disgusted at the thought, he started treading down the stairs, "You want me to—"

Ned stepped in Robert's way just when he was about a few steps away from Alyssanne and he caught Ser Barristan beside him. The princess had started fo move behind, draging herself back, trying to make distance between the enraged man.

"You grace, despite your anger she is your kin. An honourable man and king does not harm their kin or a woman," Ser Barristan said, trying to stop the enraged man to get his hands on the princess.

"Robert, she is a woman, a lady," Ned glared at his friend and Robert for a moment calmed.

For a moment they were not in the Throne Room of Red Keep but in Vale, fighting boys who tried to pick a fight with them.

Jon Arryn mean while had too moved. He approached the princess as one would a frighted and injured predator, who was actually contemplating the last moments of their life. He helped the princess get up, he eyes moving warily around, it didn't take anyone to be too wise to see the distance she tried to keep from Stannis and his men.

"Let us talk about this after tempers have cooled." Jon said. And he could say everyone agreed, even the Baratheon's, reluctantly, but they did.

Alyssanne had not slept for even a second in the following night. And it was not an understatement.

She had been far too worried about what was happening. From what she could tell, there was a storm forming across the Blackwater Bay which was streched all over the Narrow sea she could see from her room.

Yes, her room.

Jon Arryn had done her the courtesy of letting her be in her room. Something about finding calmness in familiarity.

She could bet whatever she had that she would never find calmness ever again.

She could not get her mind off anything. Her worry for her little brother and sister who had sailed just a day before. A storm on their flight would not do them good, specially the baby Daenerys, what her mother had named the babe with her dying breath.

Alyssanne had promised her mother to protect Viserys and Daenerys. How was she supposed to keep them safe, protect them when she was locked in the highest floor of the Maegor's Holdfast. Curse her father for giving her this room. What the hell was that mad man thinking! What was Rhaegar thinking? What was anyone thinking?

Another reason for sleep fleeing her was fear for her own life. She trusted Ser Barristan posted outside her room. The man had been their when she was born and had seen her grow up. Seven Hells, he was the one who had sent for her mother when she had her first moon blood. But even after all that, she could not sleep. Ser Barristan may have been another father figure in her life after Rhaegar, he was still a man who followed his King's command. And unfortunately, her cousin who was hell bent on having all of her family annihilated, including herself. Her father's Kingsguard had drawn the sword through his chest. Her father may be been the most horrible man to breath but she would not trust anyone now. Specially now.

"Princess," She flinched at the slight graze at her hand shuffling away on the opposite side on her bed. Alyssanne blinked, her wide eyes found a terrified woman standing across her.

"Princess... I—we are here to bathe you," The maid said. Yes, a maid, it was only a maid, Alyssanne sighed and looked around the room, there were three more women, all of them older than her, two bringing hot water in one putting a dress on the dressing screen and the last one was the one who had scared her.

"Yes, yes," she nodded and got off the bed hesitantly. None of the women seemed familiar. She was sure they didn't work here.

The maid who had scared her made a quick work of taking off her dress, if there was much left of it. There had not much left of her clothes in her room when she had tried to look in her dressers.

She wasn't even sure what happened in King's Landing. All her mother had told her was that her father, good sister, niece and nephew were dead and had then crowned Viserys King in Dragonstone. Now she was starting to wonder if asking for details may have been a good idea.

Why do good ideas never come at the right time?

Alyssanne couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as she put her leg in the hot water. She could thank whoever had to the maids to have the water almost boiling hot. Her skin tingled as warmth started to seep in her body. It almost felt like she was back in time when nothing was wrong. That her mother would be bringing Viserys in her room to spend time with, Elia following her with little Rhaenys and Aegon.

Alyssanne sighed, biting her lip as she let the maids wash her. She had to control herself. Her eyes cautiously moved around her. Even when the maids were just doing their jobs. She couldn't let her guard down.

She sent a prayer to whatever Gods would listen her. Please keep my little brother and sister safe. She whispered. Keep them out of Robert's reach, please.

#asoiaf #game of thrones #robert baratheon #house targaryen #Targaryen #targ reader #got fanfiction #got x reader #got x oc #ned stark #jon arryn #house baratheon #stannis baratheon

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countrymusiclover · 1 year

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Fire OF A Stark

Cadence Stark also secretary known as Lynesse Targaryen daughter of Rhaegar and Elia Martell. Surving twin sister of Aegon all thanks to Ned Stark who took her in as his own daughter. But the dragon struggles to keep up the lies when she meets Jaime Lannister and is betrothed to be his wife. The difficult task is will they allow their walls down to let the other in.

Ch 1 - The Queen’s Twin Brother

Ch 2 - Wines and Swords

Ch 3 - The King’s Command

Ch 4 - Bethrothed Lion and Wolf

Ch 5 - Wedding Grey to Gold

Ch 6 - Cadence Lannister

Ch 7 - Stark Camp

Ch 8 - The Secrets We Keep

Ch 9 - In The Name Of Father

Ch 10 - Defending the Enemy

Ch 11 - Suspicious Intentions

Ch 12 - Wolf Vs Lion

Ch 13 - His Equal

Ch 14 - Prisoners of Locke

Ch 15 - Can A Lion Be Trusted

Ch 16 - Bear Rescue

Ch 17 - Back In King's Landing

Ch 18 - Spirit Of A Dragon

Ch 19 - The Dragon and The Lion

Ch 20 - Trial of a Dwarf

Ch 21 - Dragons Can’t Be Caged

Ch 22 - An Heirs Dream

Ch 23 - Two Dragons Now

Ch 24 - Rhaenyra’s Crown

Ch 25 - Dragons VS Dragons

Ch 26 - She's Both Wolf and Dragon

Ch 27 - She's Ours

Ch 28 - The Trip Back North

Ch 29 - The Pack Survives

Ch 30 - Ramsay Bolton

Ch 31 - Knights of the Vale

Ch 32 - Regaining the North

Ch 33 - The North Remembers

Ch 34 - Peter Baelish

Ch 35 - Dragons in the North

Ch 36 - The Night King

Ch 37 - Battle Celebration

Ch 38 - The Lannister Heirs

Ch 39 - The Future of Westeros

Ch 40 - The Targaryen Queen

Ch 41 - Royals Grand Feast

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list - just ask to be added

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rostherightfulheir · 9 months

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Alysane Rivers, Daenerys Targaryen‘s bastard sister.

// The Vailed Dragon || by @Rostherightfulheir wttp \\

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ jus pretend anything with petry is her ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

I need fc recs 🙏🏽

Tiktok is the same @

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chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct · 4 months

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Flower Darling Aesthetic

One OC that i absolutely adore but never post about is Flower Darling, or "Flower Snow" depending on who you ask. She's the bastard daughter of Brandon Stark and an unknown woman she only refers to as "Moma". She looks a lot like her father. Flower of course messes with pre-story canon a bit but I don't mind because i love her. I have a soft spot for the "raised by animals" trope so thats the backstory i gave Flower. Her and her mother lived in the godswood under the noses of the residents of Winterfell for Six years, unfortunately thats when Flower's mother passed during a particularly harsh cold season. Flower remained in the godswood living off of forageables for a few years before teaching herself to hunt (she also stole quite a lot from hunting parties) she has only just recently reconnected with her family after accidentally running into Ned while he was hunting. Her backstory is a bit iffy but she's a guilty pleasure character and i love her, the problem is idk where to go with her story from here, especially when things start getting into the nitty gritty of the actual events of the books/show, so if anyone has any ideas id love to hear them!💙

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macadoodlewrites · 2 years

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The Devil Doesn’t Bargain - Part One (Peter Parker Mob AU)

Summary: Peter Parker is well on his way to taking over his adoptive father’s business – but with new threats emerging, Peter and Tony Stark decide that a deal between rivals needs to be brokered. A marriage proposal between enemies brings Hallie straight into the arms of Peter, and it won’t take her long to realise that escape will not be easy.

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging, dub-con behaviour, torture, smut, swearing

Ships: Peter Parker x OC

Main Masterlist

The Devil Doesn’t Bargain Masterlist

Word Count: 4.1k

Thursday mornings meant one thing - a coffee date with my boyfriend, Eric, at my favourite coffee shop. It was a small café, quaint yet popular. Lining the walls were used books that customers were free to take, and free to donate. I’d done my fair share of this; on the wall furthest from me sat my old copy of Pride and Prejudice, and at home on my bedside table was a battered copy of Wuthering Heights.

Eric walked over to the table that I had chosen, holding our two drinks in his hands - a salted caramel frappe for me, and an americano for him. He looked good in his leather jacket and black ripped jeans, and they set off his black hair so that even under the bright lights of the café, it was as dark as ebony.

“For you, my lady,” he said, placing our drinks down on the table, and took the seat next to me. I picked mine up, the drink cold on my hand, and licked the cream from the top. “I’ll never understand why you choose an iced drink, Hallie. You know that it’s November, don’t you?”

I did know that; my white bobbled beanie and matching gloves were on the spare seat at our table, and my black swing coat was hanging over the back of my chair. Despite the frost on the windows and the gentle fall of snow that was sticking to the pavement, the café was warm. “At least my drink has a little flavour,” I replied, grimacing at his americano.

“I’ll have you know that my drink is a perfectly fine one. Very manly.”

I leaned forwards, placing my face in front of his. “And you need to feel more manly, do you, Eric?”

He brushed his lips over mine, and I smiled. “I’ve got to bring something to the relationship,” he replied. “How else will I keep you?”

I pecked his lips, before leaning back and taking a sip of my drink. “And my interest in you has nothing to do with your personality?”

He grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth. “Or my extraordinary good looks?”

I ignored him, despite knowing it was true. Eric was gorgeous and he knew it. I shrugged instead. “Besides, if you and I were to break up, I’m sure that my brother would date you.”

His pale blue eyes widened mockingly at me. “You really think that I have a chance with Aiden?” He took my hand in his. “Then I’m sorry, Hallie, but it’s over. I’m leaving you for your brother.”

I pulled my hand back and laughed at him. “Get out.”

He snatched my hand back and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, before standing up. “Jealousy is never attractive,” he retorted, still with the same wide grin on his face. “But I do need to go to the toilets. It’ll give you time to accept that your brother and I are the perfect match.”

He walked away and I watched him; I also caught a few other people watching him. There were the usual stares from girls my age or younger, eyeing him appreciatively, taking in his sleek hair and broad shoulders. But there was also a boy at a solitary table at the back of the room, his arm leaning on the back of his chair, who was watching Eric’s movements like a hawk with prey. I watched him, trying to see if I recognised him as one of Eric’s friends, but it was hard to tell under the cap and sunglasses he was wearing. Really? Sunglasses in November?

And then he turned, moving only his head and he was looking in my direction... but through the sunglasses it was hard to tell. No, he was looking at someone else, someone on another table...

I turned back to my drink and took another sip. Eric would be back in a minute, and I could ask him if he knew the boy.

After dating Eric for just over a year, I knew his small group of friends - my older brother Aiden was his best friend, after all. Aiden and Eric had been best friends for years, having attended the same schools, and Eric and I had grown closer over those years, until he’d eventually worked up the courage to ask me out. Both he and Aiden were only two years older than me.

It was hard for me to meet boys - my dad was ridiculously overprotective, although he justified that in his line of work, he had a right to be. He purchased and traded expensive merchandise such as cars, and owned dozens of properties all over the country. His name, and subsequently mine and my brothers’ was famous, plastered onto buildings, and he worried that someone would try to use one of us to get to him, to get some money from him.

I personally thought that he was overreacting; he was only a businessman for Christ's sake! But my father still mourned my mother, and it sometimes made him irrational. I knew that my chauffeur was just around the corner, ready to take Eric and I home, and my two personal bodyguards, Ronald and Chris, were situated around the café.

I was grateful that Eric had entered my life through my brother and passed my father’s test.

Shivering, I looked around the café again, definitely feeling eyes on me like pins in my back. I shifted in my seat, my fingers idly playing with the hem of my dress, tugging it over my tights-covered knees. I wasn’t unaccustomed to people recognising me - I participated in events for charities and businesses, sometimes hosting them for my father, and appeared on magazine covers, occasionally with Eric. We’d been dubbed the ‘IT couple to watch’ when we’d first started dating, and I knew that Eric was slowly making his way in society - he had climbed the way up the ladder with my brother, both of them prominent workers in my father’s business.

And there it was again, the chill down the back of my neck. I turned around slowly in my seat, fiddling with the ends of my pale blonde hair nervously.

The boy was still in the exact same position, looking over in my direction. Now I was certain that he was looking at me, the chills coursing through my body told me so. I stared right back at him with a frown and wished that Eric would hurry up so that we could leave. I wasn’t scared, my bodyguards prevented that - but glancing around to where Ronald was sitting, I felt my stomach drop. He was slumped over in his chair, eyes closed.

And where was Chris.... there stood against a wall, arms crossed. No. He was leaning backwards against the wall, between two posts. Also unconscious.

Something was wrong.

Where the hell was Eric?

I looked back at the boy again. He had removed his sunglasses and cap, and even across the café I could tell that his eyes were dark. And they were certainly looking at me. And then he raised his hand, three fingers mock saluting me before he held them up.

He wanted me to watch, I just knew it.

Three.

One finger went down.

Two.

I looked over towards the toilets, but still no sign of Eric. I looked back at the boy, as he put another finger down.

One.

I had grown used to always having bodyguards, or my brother, father, boyfriend. Always reliant on someone else. My stomach was churning as I realised I needed to find Eric. I stood up, shoving my chair back, eyes still locked on the boy, as his final finger fell.

For all of a second, nothing happened.

And then the shots went off. Three of them.

The deafening sounds of gun fire rang throughout the room, and I ducked my head, falling back against my chair and looked around in panic. My breath caught in my throat as I stared around wildly, trying to see where the guns were, to see who was shooting, and my heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I was surprised no one else could hear it.

“Everyone out!” I looked over to where the voice was coming from. Someone was stood with the brown-haired boy. He was dirty blond and of a similar age, and in his hand was a rifle. It was pointed up at the ceiling. I stared, with the rest of the occupants of the café, and watched as he looked around, and fired again. “I said out!”

Everyone suddenly burst to life, rushing towards the doors. I froze for only a second before running, trying to push against the crowd to get to the bathroom. Everyone was screaming, calling names as they ran out of the doors.

And then he was there. Eric came rushing towards me, and I almost flinched away at the sight of the sleek pistol in his hand.

“Eric, what-”

“No time to talk, baby,” he snapped. I could feel tears in my eyes as he grabbed my hand in his free one, and tugged me along with him, towards the crowd squeezing towards the door. My knee-high black boots smacked the wooden floor with each step.

Then another shot went off, and I saw a piece of ceiling fall only a handful of footsteps in front of us, halting our steps. Most of the crowd had left, and those that were at the door all continued to push their way through.

“Not you two,” the same voice yelled again, and I chanced a look at boys. I froze at the sight in front of us.

“Eric,” I whimpered. The blond boy had his gun pointed directly at us.

Eric whipped around, the hand in mine shoved me behind him, and the one with the gun was trained expertly at the two boys. How he’d known exactly what I’d meant by the whimpering of his name, I had no idea, but I stayed behind his broad frame.

What was happening? And since when did my boyfriend own a gun, and what more, know how to use one?

“What the hell is happening?” I whispered to Eric, but he ignored me entirely.

“Peter, Harry. Good to see you again,” Eric called. I peeked around his frame and saw that the two boys were staring back at my boyfriend. “I’d appreciate it if you could put the rifle down.”

I recognised both of the boys, and every muscle in my body tensed painfully.

Peter Parker and Harry Osborn.

I’d seen their faces on the news, both members of Tony Stark’s company - but more than that, I’d heard many rumours about them from different circles. At events I’d attended, there was always whispers about them, and their third man, Ned Leeds. Rumours and whispers that involved drug trafficking, planned attacks and disappearances of any of Tony’s opponents, and even murder. And yet, they walked as free men thanks to their influence and Tony’s power and money.

I was terrified.

Why was Eric addressing them as if they were old acquaintances?

Peter’s eyes met mine and he smiled, but it was cold, calm, and wicked. He raised his hand, exactly as he had done when I had first seen him and wiggled them at me. I only stared at him with wide eyes.

His name, his look, the gun that I could see sticking out of his waistband as he held his jacket back, incited absolute terror in me.

“Wish that I could the same, Eric. Truly,” Harry hollered. I noticed that he’d moved his gun so that it was on his arm, tucked into the nook of his elbow and placed over his shoulder, and with Peter’s still holstered, the only ones in danger were them. Shockingly, Harry shrugged with no care, and placed his gun on the ground. Eric’s was still aimed at them.

“What errand has Tony got his little boys on today?” Eric spat, and I shivered. I had never heard him speak so coldly, especially not around me.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t involve you,” Harry replied. “It involves Miss Whittingham.”

I had moved myself so that I was positioned next to Eric, despite all of my fear, but with Harry’s words, he shoved me back behind him again. His gun hand had not faltered once.

“Hallie, phone Aiden. Now,” Eric ordered, and I stared up at the back of his head. There was sweat on the back of his neck; he was far more nervous than he was letting on.

“What the hell is Aiden going to do?” I whispered.

“Just do it.”

“If you touch your phone, Halston, we will shoot your boyfriend.”

It was the first time that I’d heard Peter speak and his voice was deep, a true New York lilt to it.

“I think you forget exactly who’s holding the weapon here, Parker,” Eric replied, cocking the gun. I started to move backwards slowly, towards the table that Eric and I had been occupying. My bag was still there. “Get your phone now, Hallie, and get out of here!”

“Not without you,” I spat back, and reached for my bag.

“Isn’t it strange that both of your bodyguards were knocked out so easily? No fuss, no mess, nothing. Now Eric, I realise that you are an unofficial third bodyguard for her, so didn’t it strike you as strange that they were taken down so easily?” Harry drawled and exchanged a look with Peter. I stared at them both, hand resting on my closed bag, frozen. My entire body was cold, goose bumps on every crevice of skin.

“What the hell are you prattling on about?” Eric hissed.

“Well, you seem to be under the impression that you are the only one in this room holding a gun.”

I watched Eric’s stance shift and realised that something was wrong - more wrong than what was currently happening. Eric held the gun, I was near the phone, and Peter and Harry had nothing in their hands.

So why did it feel like they had all of the power?

I unclipped my bag and pulled my phone out with shaking hands. I unlocked it.

“But we have connections everywhere, Eric. You should know that, if you want to be in this game,” Harry continued, and I glanced back at them both, as my unsteady hands scrolled to my most recent contacts. I found Aiden’s.

“Even in a place like this, we can control everything,” Peter said, and it felt like he was giving us an explanation, one that was meant to make us feel stupid. I had no idea what they were talking about, but from the way that Eric moved backwards, towards me, I realised that he was understanding.

Both Peter and Harry started to move, rounding the table in front of them, coming towards Eric and me. I pressed Aiden’s number and held the phone to my ear as it dialled.

“The cameras,” Peter whispered, and his words reverberated through my body. “The drinks. Even the staff.”

“Hallie,” Aiden’s voice came through the phone, and I let out the smallest sigh at the sound of my brother’s voice.

“Aid-” I breathed but screamed as a shot echoed throughout the room. The phone slipped from my clammy fingers as I stumbled backwards, hitting the table as the gunshot echoed in my ears. I looked at Harry and Peter as tears of fear coursed down my cheeks. Neither of them was holding a gun, and yet, neither of them looked harmed. I then saw who had fired the weapon.

The barista behind the counter. I’d assumed that he had left with the crowd, but he had clearly been hiding. Peter hadn’t been lying; he controlled the staff.

And then Eric faltered, falling backwards towards me. He turned and I saw that he was holding his shoulder. Blood as red as my lipstick was coursing down his arm. But Eric didn’t look frightened or in pain.

“It’s only a flesh wound, Hallie,” he yelled. “Go!”

Clearly neither of us were meant to be seriously harmed as we were both nearly unscathed, so I did exactly what Eric said. I ran.

My chauffeur could contact my father or brother, send help for us. I ran towards the door, trying to leave the fear behind me, but then he was there.

Peter had crossed the room as I had and was stood in front of the main door, arms crossed. His blazer sleeves and shirt were rolled up, and there was a smug grin on his surprisingly handsome face. Chocolate brown waves fell onto his forehead.

“Going somewhere, darling?”

I skidded to a stop in front of him, and started to move backwards, back towards Eric...and my phone. Hopefully my brother could hear everything and was sending help.

“Please let us leave,” I stammered, meeting his gaze. Dark russet brown eyes stared back at me. “We won’t say anything. Please. Eric needs to see a doctor.”

Peter chuckled. “He’ll be fine, we barely grazed him. But we can do much worse if you make this difficult.” I could hear Harry’s chuckle from the other side of the room and turned. Harry was near Eric, and in his hand was a knife. But Eric was focused on me, his eyes looking at the distance between Peter and I. I started to rush towards him, eyes fixed on Harry.

“Eric, he has a knife-” I screamed, just as Eric turned around, his gun pointed. He fired, but the bullet flew over Harry’s shoulder, and the knife was thrust forwards, making contact with Eric’s stomach. “No!”

It was like time had slowed down as I watched Eric register what had happened; he glanced down at the knife still lodged in his skin and put his hand on the handle. Then he slowly sank to his knees, the gun falling from his hands as he collapsed. I could hear his ragged breathing as I closed any space between us, skidding to my knees next to him. “Hallie,” he whispered. “You need to leave.”

I held his blood coated hand in mine and stared down at his paling face, trying to hold in my sobs. “I can’t leave without you.”

I glanced around at the boys surrounding us, painfully aware of them. Harry was staring down at us like he was bored, even irritated at the sight, as was the boy behind the counter. But Peter was sneering at us, and I watched his eyes attach themselves to the grip of mine and Eric’s hands.

“As touching as this is to watch, he’s going to die. And you’re coming with us, Halston,” Peter spat, and started to reach down towards me. My hand shot out and snatched up Eric’s gun and pointed it up at Peter. He paused, amusement coating his features. “Come on, darling. You’ve never held a gun in your life. Do you even know how to use it?” I slowly stood up and turned so that all three boys were in my sight.

“Aim and shoot,” I quivered, and I tried to muster any ounce of bravery or confidence into my voice. It failed miserably. I was trembling, mascara-blackened tears were staining my cheeks and I had my boyfriend’s blood on my hands and on the hem of my dress.

I kept moving, first pointing the gun at Harry, then the barista, and then Peter. Eric’s breaths were raspy, and I prayed that Aiden was on his way. Although how Aiden could help was beyond me; my brother was about as experienced with guns as I was, but perhaps he could call the police?

“You really didn’t have to make this so difficult,” Peter cooed, and I stared at him. Surely if I pulled the trigger now, it would hit his head. The thought was terrifying. “Now put the gun down and come with us.”

“What do you want with me?” I screamed. None of them were moving towards me, and it was confusing. Sure, I held the gun, but if they swarmed then I wouldn’t be able to fire at them all. “Please, just let me phone an ambulance, and let us leave. My family has money, we can pay you-”

“You think that we want your daddy’s money?” Peter spat.

“Don’t you know who we are? Who we work for?” Harry added.

None of them were still moving towards me and it was churning my stomach like a rolling sea.

“Then why are you doing this?” My throat was dry, my words raspy as I looked between them. I didn’t recognise the barista - he certainly wasn’t the third member of Peter’s usual trio, Ned Leeds.

The rumours said that the three of them never went anywhere without each other.

Further unease filled my chest.

Ned was somewhere in the café.

“Your father has been causing mine too many problems. You are how we are going to fix it all,” Peter provided, and finally took a step towards me. My gun was still aimed at him. “We need you for a little business proposition.”

I blinked at him; my eyes were sore. “What business proposition-”

“I’m fed up with this little game, darling,” taunted Peter, and took another step forwards. My finger tightened on the trigger ever so slightly, but I may as well have been pulling back a brick door, it felt so heavy. “And it’s time to go.” Peter glanced behind me, and all too late, I realised that he hadn’t been scared of my gun or trying to calm me down.

He had been stalling.

A hand viciously tangled itself in my hair and pulled my head backwards. I screamed savagely, trying to pull away but I knew hair was being torn from my scalp. My head was on fire. “Let me go!”

And they did, but only to grab my arm and twist it painfully backwards. My skin was twisted, and arm bent at an awkward angle, as pain flooded through my bones. Involuntarily, the gun fell from my fingers, and my assailants other hand caught it.

They then let my arm go, and hands shoved my shoulders. I stumbled towards Peter in my heels, and before I could slow myself or turn to run, Peter was there, holding my wrists up.

“Stop this, please!”

Peter’s dark eyes stared me down, roaming my face. I didn’t care how awful I looked. I looked back at Eric as I struggled, and saw that his chest was still moving, albeit slowly.

“Good job, Ned,” Peter said, still looking at me. My suspicions had been right. The trio were never apart. “Cameras disabled?”

“All done, boss,” a voice said from behind us.

“Come on then, lets wrap this up,” I heard Harry say.

I tugged my arms as hard as I could, but it was the kick of my stiletto heel into his shin that made him let me go.

I ran to the door as I had tried to before, but just as I reached it, my hand on the handle, an arm snaked itself around my waist and I was tugged backwards. My back connected with a hard, male chest and once again, I tried to break free. My nails scraped and tore at the skin of the arm around me, but that was when there was a small, sharp pain at the side of my neck.

The arm then released me as I turned; behind me was Peter, holding a syringe needle in his hand and smiling at me with satisfaction. My hand shot to the side of my neck. The pain was already fading. I stared at him in shock.

“What did you inject me with?” I whispered.

“Something to help you get some rest,” Peter replied. “You look like you’ve had a tough day.”

“Screw you.”

Peter reached out and turned us, dragging me with him, so that I was facing Eric. It was a cruel and calculated move. “Look at your boyfriend, darling,” Peter’s voice whispered in my ear.

I tried to pull my arm from his grip, but everything was starting to slow down as whatever he had injected me with started to kick in. I tried to move towards Eric but stumbled. My legs were shutting down, as was the rest of me.

Peter’s arm was back around my body as I started to fall, and I had no chance but to let him support my weight as my muscles gave up.

Eric’s pale unmoving face was the last thing that I saw as blackness set in. As I faded away, Peter murmured, “I’m afraid that this is the end of your relationship.” His words were soft. “On to the next.”

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