Ouuuu Yes 😩🤭

POWER

summary: Jade always knew something’s was off about herself,it wasn’t because she was a supe, it was something else… something…. powerful. Jade has suffered almost all her life, and now she finally has a chance to show people what’s she’s capable of, but….at what cost?

coming soon!!!!

people are so mean omg

Almost all the reasons Daemyra stans hate Dattles are the same reasons they should hate their own ship.

Similarities between Daemyra and Dattles.

They both have cheating. (Daemon is married to Rhea Royce when he starts to pursue Rhaenyra. Despite this a lot of Daemyra stans like to use the excuse that at that point in time Daemon and Rhea were having “problems.” When Daemon starts to pursue Nettles he is married to Rhaenyra but just like Rhea, he and Rhaenyra are having “problems.”)

They both have an age-gap. (While the age-gap between Daemon and Rhaenyra is less than the age gap between Daemon and Nettles, but we must remember however that when Daemon first meets Nettles she is by Westeros standards an adult, whereas Rhaenyra wasn't.)

Children

Then there are some who say they don’t like Dattles because Daemon had children specifically with Rhaenyra during when all of this was going down. These children being Aegon III and Viserys II. This troubles people because they worry how that would affect Aegon and Viserys's view of what a healthy relationship let alone a marriage should look like.

But the same people neglect the fact that (at least show wise) not only do Daemon and Rhaenyra's actions (Rhaenyra having an affair with Harwin while being married to Laenor, Daemon being at the very least a emotionally unavailable husband to Laena and a neglectful parent to Baela and Rhaena ) but also their marriage (them getting married so quickly after the death of their respective marriage mates and in Rhaenyra’s case also her lover) could have very well given Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena an unhealthy view of what a healthy relationship should look like.

Grooming

Rhaenyra and Daemon:

He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the Empress of Leng, read poems to her, dined with her, hawked with her, sailed with her, entertained her by making mock of the greens at court, the "lickspittles" fawning over Queen Alicent and her children.

Eustace, the less salacious of the two, writes that Prince Daemon seduced his niece the princess and claimed her maidenhood. When the lovers were discovered abed together by Ser Arryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard and brought before the king, Rhaenyra insisted she was in love with her uncle and pleaded with her father for leave to marry him. King Viserys would not hear of it, however, and reminded his daughter that Prince Daemon already had a wife.

"When he looks at you, he sees the little girl you were, not the woman you've become," Daemon told his niece, "but I can teach you how to make him see you as a woman."

He began by giving her kissing lessons, if Mushroom can be believed. From there the prince went on to show his niece how best to touch a man to bring him pleasure, an exercise that sometimes involved Mushroom himself and his alleged enormous member.

Daemon taught the girl to disrobe enticingly, suckled at her teats to make them larger and more sensitive, and flew with her on dragonback to lonely rocks in Blackwater Bay, where they could disport naked all day unobserved, and the princess could practice the art of pleasuring a man with her mouth. At night he would smuggle her from her rooms dressed as a page boy and take her secretly to brothels on the Street of Silk, where the princess could observe men and women in the act of love and learn more of these "womanly arts" from the harlots of King's Landing.

Viserys at first refused to believe a word of it, until Prince Daemon confirmed the tale was true. "Give the girl to me to wife," he purportedly told his brother. "Who else would take her now?" Instead King Viserys sent him into exile, never to return to the Seven Kingdoms on pain of death.

Nettles and Daemon:

Maester Norren writes that "the prince and his bastard girl" supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince "doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter," instructing her in "common courtesies" and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her of "an ivory-handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter." The prince taught the girl to wash, Norren says, and the maidservants who fetched their bath water said he oft shared a tub with her, "soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them as naked as their namedays.”

To which his brother answered, "It may be we shall be destroyed whatever choice we make. The prince is more than fond of this brown child, and his dragon is close at hand. A wise lord would kill them both, lest the prince burn Maidenpool in his wroth."

All we know is that the maester, a young man of two-and-twenty, found Prince Daemon and the girl Nettles at their supper that night, and showed them the queen's letter.

"Weary after a long day of fruitless flight, they were sharing a simple meal of boiled beef and beets when I entered, talking softly with each other, of what I cannot say. The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said,

'A queen's words, a whore's work.' Then he drew his sword and asked if Lord Mooton's men were waiting outside to take them captive. 'I came alone,' I told him, then foreswore myself, declaring falsely that neither his lordship nor any other man of Maidenpool knew what was written on the parchment. 'Forgive me, My Prince,' I said. 'I have broken my maester's vows.' Prince Daemon sheathed his sword, saying, You are a bad maester, but a good man,' after which he bade me leave them, commanding me to 'speak no word of this to lord nor love until the morrow.’ ”

No word of farewell was spoken betwixt man and maid, but as Sheepstealer beat his leathery brown wings and climbed into the dawn sky, Caraxes raised his head and gave a scream that shattered every window in Jonquil's Tower. High above the town, Nettles turned her dragon toward the Bay of Crabs, and vanished in the morning mists, never to be seen again at court or castle.

That Prince Daemon died as well we cannot doubt. His remains were never found, but there are queer currents in that lake, and hungry fish as well. The singers tell us that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side.

+Bonus

[As to the girl Nettles, "She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her," the queen declared. "My prince would ne'er lay with such a low creature. You need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon's blood in her. It was with spells that she bound a dragon to her, and she has done the same with my lord husband." So long as he was in the girl's thrall, Prince Daemon could not be relied upon, Her Grace went on. Therefore, let a command be sent at once to Maidenpool, but only for the eves of Lord Mooton. "Let him take her at table or abed and strike her head off. Only then shall my prince be freed."]

—Rhaenyra about Nettles.

Conclusion

Personally whether or not someone ships either of these couples is up to them. I however can’t stand a hypocrite, and I’ve noticed that’s what a large percentage of Daemyra stans are especially when it comes not only to Dettles but Nettles as a whole.

And I especially as a black woman, can’t stand the misogynoir that I've seen Team Black (and Green) display when it’s comes specifically to the black/blackish women in House of the Dragon.

This was eloquently put 🙌🏽 I’ve got nothing to add except my praise, I love how you have shouted out Team Green's antics cause they also b!tch and moan about how it makes Daemon a villain(and not all the other crap he’s done) to choose Nettles over his psychotic racist wife.

I too didn’t really care about Dumbnyra, its stans, and its sympathizers until they started going off on a hate campaign against Daemon and Nettles.

Very unserious bunch of racist morons who think they can get away with calling Black/Blackish women the n-word: 

Yes, that was directed at Laena, but it's only a matter of time before Team I don't want Nettles to be on the show, and if she is on the show don't let her be a Negro, goes calling Netty the n-word too for “ruining” their Appalachian mountain realness ship.

Or throwing a temper tantrum because a canon character, who despite their best efforts to ignore her existence or bash her, is all but confirmed to be in the show:

Don’t get me started on Team Green who are populated by white feminists who believe themselves to be morally superior when in reality they are just as racist as Team Dumbnyra or bust when it comes to Nettles and her relationship with Daemon:

(The irony is not lost to me how they point out Rhaenyra’s racism then proceed to treat Nettles like a toddler or sometimes even defend Rhaenyra’s racism because she’s a woman🤪 Black women shouldn’t be in romantic relationships in their minds)

Or those upset because they can’t use Nettles (like how they wanted to because in their mind she’s only there to show how evil Daemon is to their white sister) to dunk on Daemon:

I can't take these people seriously when they complain about Dattles and label it problematic when they ignore their ships problems.

Alysmond(still love you, but I’ll drag some of the white and non-Black fans who are suspect), Rhaicent, Helaemond(aka Hellmanns), and Dumbnyra are all equally if not more problematic than Dattles.

(I have a mini rant on this in my drafts that I’ll post this weekend).

Their anti-Black misogynoir is clouding their views on Daemon and Nettles.

How did we get here?

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x oc velaryon!targaryen x Criston Cole

Summary: quiet and dangerous was one way to describe the velaryon princess... but how could she be quiet when her mother's new husband looked at her like that....

warning: Targaryen incest, violence, smut, angst, stepcest, age gaps, dub-con, drama

coming soon 👀

# 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✶ 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝘢𝑠𝘵𝑒𝘳𝑙𝘪𝑠𝘵 !

イ 𝑟e𝑎d 𝘛ℎ𝘦 𝘋𝑎𝘮𝑠𝘦𝑙 𝑆𝘦𝑟𝘪𝑒𝘴 𝑜n a𝑜3 i𝑛s𝑡e𝑎d, 𝑖f y𝑜u’d r𝑎tℎe𝑟.

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑶𝙉𝑬:

✶ chapter one. | find it here on ao3!

✶ chapter two. | find it here on ao3!

✶ chapter three

✶ chapter four / (coming soon.)

✶ chapter five

✶ chapter six

✶ chapter seven

✶ chapter eight

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑻𝙒𝑶:

✶ 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘵𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘣𝑙𝘰𝑔 𝑑𝘦𝑐𝘦𝑚𝘣𝑒𝘳 2025…

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑻𝙃𝑹𝙀𝑬:

✶ 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘵𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘣𝑙𝘰𝑔 𝑑𝘦𝑐𝘦𝑚𝘣𝑒𝘳 2029…

Masterlist of Masterlist

🐝 Across the Spiderverse

🐝 Aquaman

🐝 Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

🐝 Cloverfield Paradox, The

🐝 Dominion (Syfy)

🐝 Falcon and the Winter Soldier, The

🐝 Flash, The

🐝 Ladies in Lavender

🐝 Like Minds

🐝 Sandman, The

🐝 Star Trek

🐝 Sweetbitter

🐝 Teen Wolf

🐝 Triple Frontier, The

🐝 Tom Sturridge

Last Edit: 8/15/23

Literally 😭

when its a true Velaryon reader and not a Strong Velaryon🙏🏾

you “don’t write black or PoC readers” because you “don’t know what it’s like to be black or PoC” but y’all have no problem writing wizards, dragons, elves, witches, supersoldiers, mutants, jedi, people from eras you haven’t lived in, monarchs, murderers, and stalkers

but PoC are too far outside of your lived experience?

you can write nuanced and diverse characters from all walks of life, but as soon as they don’t look exactly like you, suddenly that creativity vanishes, and all you have to draw from is stereotypes?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, this is targcest!! Mostly centered around Everyone x Reader, tho. Set in HOTD S1x7: Driftmark.

Traits/Features: i usually keep the readers descriptions ambiguous/unspecific but for obvious reasons, reader is mixed (though, her skin color - as well as her eye color -- isn't mentioned, it's heavily implied) and she has the traditional Targ/Velaryon white/silver hair.

Warnings: Includes the use of Y/n. As it says above, this contains TARG-CEST, arranged by marriage!!! You have been warned. Twice. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Though, unlike other fics, I don't find it necessary to point out how they're related (if that makes sense). Brief mention of a major character death!! (Aka Laena's death). As this is set in the episode Aemond's eye was taken, his mutilation is also included (nothing too graphic tho). Despite all these warnings, the fic as a whole is more on the fluffy/general side.

Disclaimer: I dont own ASOIAF/HOTD or it's characters, nor do I claim to own them. Nor do I own the dividers/images used. All credits goes to their respective owners.

Targ Divider Credits: @/dingusfreakhxrrington.

Inspo for this fic: [X] | Click this Link to see more Velaryon!Reader works.

Imagine... Being Rhaenyra and Laenor's trueborn daughter and earning the title, 'The Realm's Light'.

Or... In which, everyone witnesses the first acts of diplomacy, displayed by the makings of a future Queen.

To say, you were the last bit of light to grace the stone walls of Driftmark and its peoples, was an understatement.

The fight that broke out between the two Targaryen houses, was enough to test anyone's patience, but with the death of their only daughter - and unborn grandchild - still fresh in their hearts, Corlys and Rhaenys had little energy to fight back with, much less, to attempt at settling a score that had long-sinced been brewing.

But it's with the collective gasps of shock, emitting from those closest to the entrance of the halls' double doors, did everyone evert their eyes from the damage Viserys' ignorance was gonna ensue, in favor of looking upon the beauty, whose sleep was rudely interrupted by her families' quarreling.

A gasp of her own, leaving her lips. "What's going on here?!"

There, at the center of all the chaos, came an angel in the form of Rhaenyra and Laenor's only true born daughter, and rightful heir, Y/n Velaryon.

The array of candles that lined the walls of the great hall, lit the path behind her, and formed a halo-like glow around the silver of her hair -- the sight akin to that of a dragon hatching from the flames, of its incubation chamber.

This dragon, however - although young and just a girl - was one many adored, and favored the most, over her siblings, not just because she was the only legitimate child of the Princess and her Lord Husband, but for her compassion and devotion to those who needed it.

Her betrothed, especially, being the one of many to be graced with such kindness.

Though, it had been a union, cultivated by King Viserys, purely on the bases that his crumbling and dying house be better fortified, it wasn't until now, did people - and Aemond, more importantly -, realize that initial kindness you paid the king's second son, wasn't out of obligation but out of the kindness of your heart.

The level of protectiveness and empathy you had shown the mutilated boy, and even better, the diplomacy you'd shown your brothers and cousins, and your good mother, Queen Alicent, in letting them each speak their truth - as the adults had lacked to do - in getting to the root of the problem, having turned every ill thought, Otto had engraved into Alicent's mind - and by extension, into Aemond's - about Rhaenyra and her brood being 'entitled little pricks', completely on its head.

The events that followed the infighting at Driftmark, having convinced everyone well enough, that the true Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, lie not with Rhaenyra, or even the kings firstborn son, Aegon ll, but with you.

The Realms Light.

A/N: Sorry for the month long wait (wait-- A MONTH?!! HOW TF DID THAT HAPPEN, lol?!), I was in the middle of moving. More chapters will be out soon.

(This fic was written and posted by ©️noonesgoneuntiltheyregone, previously known as nightowls-multifandom-imagines on: 28/05-27/06/23). Please don't copy, claim or repost my works!! You may like and reblog my works tho!!

Empty/Sus blogs will be blocked upon interaction!!

Sign It Away Completed Series

You sign a deal with the city’s most notorious handsome devil just to get a proper f*ck buddy while trying to sort out your dating life…but when you find someone to be serious with, Thomas can’t handle it.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

yall pls go read this it's too good 😫😫😫🙏🏾

What I Should’ve Said

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x black reader

Description: TBA

Word: 3,023

A/n: I can’t even describe how surprised and happy I am, by the support and love you guys showed to part one. I am extremely obsessed and in love with these twins, and this is exactly what we all mean when we say we want to pair of Jordans, Amen?

AMEN!

Tag list: @capswife @marley1773 @kxllanxtdoor @berlinswifey @thegreatlibraryofalex @httpsangelsstuff @lovereadingfanfic @li-da-savage @reci1996 @nbanenefrmdao @theonekaysstuff @kpopslur @fjssdfb @zane2408 @saik-k @childishgambinaax @k4kashin @keliwel

Part 1 - I Never Told You

Elias?” You mumbled, staring at the scene in front of you in horror.

Blood. All the blood. It was all you could focus on—the crimson liquid seeping from the side of Stacks’ neck, painting the ground in a gruesome tapestry of life and pain. Stacks, who was withering on the ground, struggled to move, his body twitching as if trying to fight against the inevitable.

The next thing you heard were gunshots, sharp and echoing in the air, as Smoke lit Mary up, each bullet finding its mark in her body. Just when you thought the chaos couldn’t escalate further, she dropped to the floor, only to rise again, defying the laws of life and death. Your ears were ringing from the close proximity of Smoke’s gunfire, but all you could see was Stacks.

As you inched toward him, desperate to reach him, Mary bolted toward you, pushing you out of the way with a force that sent you sprawling to the ground.

Hastily, you scrambled to your knees, crawling as fast as you could toward Stacks, your heart racing.

“Elias!” You screamed, horror twisting your voice.

There was an entire chunk of skin missing between the top of his neck and shoulder, a gaping wound that made you feel sick. Without a second thought, you tore off your shawl and pressed it against the injury, your hands trembling. Smoke, his face a mask of fury and fear, lifted his twin brother slightly, cradling his head in his lap.

“She fucking bit me, baby,” he coughed out, his mouth stained with blood, each word a struggle.

“Smoke, what do we do—?” you stammered, panic creeping into your voice.

“Fuck, just hold it!” he barked, his own desperation evident as he tried to help you stem the flow of blood from Stacks’ neck.

“I’m sorry,” Stacks wheezed, the sound barely escaping his lips. You felt one of his hands tap your elbow weakly.

“I don’t care! I don’t care about anything else; I just need you to stay with me, okay?” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept pressure on the wound with one hand and reached down to hold one of his.

He squeezed your hand back, but only for a moment. You felt his grip loosen, and that arm fell limp, a chilling realization settling over you like a dark cloud.

“Elias, please!” you cried, your voice breaking as fear clawed at your insides.

“I love you,” he said, looking you dead in the eye, his gaze piercing through the pain, though his own eyes were mere slits now.

“I love you, big brother,” he murmured this time to Smoke, the words a whisper of tenderness amidst the chaos, before a gurgling sound escaped his lips, followed by an eerie silence.

“Elias?” You called, your heart racing, but there was no response.

“Elias!” You shouted again, desperation flooding your voice as you shook him gently, hoping against hope for a miracle.

But he was gone.

The world around you faded into a blur, the sounds of gunfire and chaos dimmin' as the weight of loss crashed down upon you like a heavy shroud. You felt a coldness seep into your bones, a chill that had nothin' to do with the night air—it was the icy grip of despair.

“Elias…” you whispered, his name hangin' in the air like a haunting melody, a promise left unfulfilled.

You couldn’t move. All you could do was stare at your hand clutchin' his. His hand was quickly turnin' cold, life leavin' him with every passing second.

Smoke's face twisted in agony as he cradled his brother, the bond of twinhood shattered in an instant. You could see the rage buildin' within him, a storm of emotions that threatened to erupt at any moment, ready to lash out at the world for takin' his brother away.

“Smoke, we have to move the body outside,” you urged, your voice shaky.

“Ain’t nobody touchin' my brother,” he seethed, fury and heartbreak intertwining in his words.

Coverin' your mouth to choke down another sob, the reality that Stack was no longer here played on a loop in your mind, a cruel reminder of what you’d lost.

“Y/n, you too, baby,” your sister said gently, rubbin' your shoulders, tryin' to coax you into movin'.

With trembling hands, you reached out, runnin' your fingers softly over his forehead before pressin' your own to his. You closed your eyes, wishin' for one last moment, one final chance to tell him how you felt.

“I should’ve told you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve told you how much you mean to me.”

Your lip trembled as you leaned over, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, a goodbye you wished you didn’t have to say. Annie helped you up and out of the room, her grip firm yet comforting.

You paused at the doorway, lookin' back at Stack one last time, the sight of him still feelin' unreal.

“Come on, y/n,” Annie urged, her voice gentle yet insistent. You turned your gaze to your sister, who could see the hurt and pain in your eyes. Her heart ached for you and for her lover. Tears flowed freely down your face.

“I didn’t get to say it back, sista,” you whispered, the weight of your unspoken words hangin' heavy between you.

Haint.

That’s what your sister thought it was, but you all quickly found out she wasn’t too far off.

See, a Haint, in plain terms, was a malicious ghost. Restless spirits who, for some reason, hadn’t moved on.

But no.

No Haint would be handled between you and Annie, but vampires? That was a whole 'nother beast.

This was another type of evil you weren’t equipped to deal with. Not one that wore the face of the person you loved. When you saw him walkin' back up to that front door, lookin' alive as if nothin' had happened, givin' you that signature smirk, gold ones shinin’ like it was any other day, you were floored. You wanted nothin' more than to reach out, grab him, and make sure he was real.

Once Smoke closed the door, it stood still in front of it, unmoving. You prayed this was all a joke. You prayed Stack would just walk through that door and tell you that everything was gonna be okay.

But that didn’t happen.

You weren’t sure how he knew you were still on the other side of the door while the others were further away, tryin' to come up with some sort of plan, but you began to hear him whisper your name.

Or did you?

You weren’t sure what was real or fake anymore, and it was startin' to drive you mad. The voice of one of your very best friends askin' you to open up, plead in' with you, tryin' to assure you that everything was okay and nothin' was as bad as it seemed.

“Bam.” You shut your eyes tight as the sweet, silky voice of the man you loved coaxed you from the other side of the door.

“Elias, please,” you whispered, your voice tremblin' with confusion and longing.

“Open the door for me, Bam.”

“Just… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your heart racin' as it fought against the logic of your mind.

Your brain knew the truth. It wasn’t him. But your heart didn’t care, and right now, the two were at war with each other.

Everything you and your sister had grown up knowin' about magic and creatures that go bump in the night—it was all real, and it was literally at your front door. Yet, your heart struggled to see anything but Stack.

The man you had fallen so deeply in love with when you were just sixteen—the man you were still hopelessly in love with now. Except now, there was no longer a livin', breathin' Elias, but rather somethin' undead.

Vampire.

“Just open up for me, and I promise you, everything is gonna be okay, baby.” His voice flowed like honey, each word drippin' with the kind of sweet reassurance that used to melt your heart.

“Elias…” you breathed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions, a fragile whisper that barely escaped your lips.

“Open the door, Bam.” This time, his tone was still gentle, yet there was an undeniable firmness to it that sent your heart racing, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

“I can’t do that,” you sniffled, not bothering to conceal the hurt that laced your voice. “It’s not really you, ‘Lias.”

You pressed your forehead and hand against the door, wishing for nothin' more than to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to bring him back to you in any way that you could.

“But I am, Y/n. It’s still me, girl. There’s only one me, baby.” He joked in that familiar way that made your heart swell, even now, even in this twisted moment. “I’m just… better now. Everything is so much better.”

From the outside, Stack leaned against the door, his forehead pressed against the same spot where you stood, as if he could feel your presence through the wood, tethered to you by an invisible thread.

“No fear, no pain. Shit’s just beautiful.” You listened, entranced, as he went on, his voice smooth and enticing, painting a picture of a world where everything was normal. “And you’re beautiful.”

Mary, who had originally stood by giggling, enjoying the show of what she thought was her man trying to gain entry into the juke joint, recoiled at his words, her expression shifting from amusement to disbelief.

The hive mind they had formed once connected to Remmick allowed her to see into Stack’s thoughts as well. It wasn’t what she thought it would be.

Inside Stack’s mind…

Once he became part of the hive, she assumed his deepest, most inner thoughts would be of her—of their love, their connection.

But what was funny was that the bond they shared was nothin' more than the connection of two people who loved the same person back.

See, while Stack may have loved Annie, he breathed you.

It changed the landscape of her emotions as the vampire form tried to reason within, but deep down, she knew.

Stack was never really hers.

He was yours.

He always would be.

“You are beautiful, and you will be beautiful—on the outside and the inside,” Stack spoke convincingly, his tone a mix of charm and desperation that echoed in your chest. “And you and I? We will be together. No problems, no worries.”

Your fingers played with the latch on the door, the metal cool against your skin. You knew you couldn’t invite him in, but wouldn’t it be okay if you just looked at him? If you could see him, talk to him face-to-face, maybe you could reason with him. Fix him.

“We want you,” Stack said from the other side, his voice dripping with longing, like a lover’s whisper in the dark. “I want you.”

“But Stack—” Mary tried to interject, her tone tinged with concern, but one sharp look from him silenced her instantly.

“Shut up, bitch,” he seethed, the darkness that filtered into his voice made you recoil, snapping you out of the trance you didn’t even realize you were in, the warmth of his charm replaced by a chilling edge.

“I just want you,” he repeated, urgency creeping into his voice, raw and desperate. “It could be me and you.”

“Now open the fucking door!” Stack screamed, the sound of his fist slamming against the wood made you jump back, colliding into Smoke, who you hadn’t realized was standin' there, along with the others—watchin' you with sad, worried eyes as you broke down.

Smoke gently took one of your hands and squeezed it tight, his other hand resting on your back, guiding you away from the door toward Annie, a protective shield against the darkness.

“Come on, sister. You got to stop torturing yourself.” Annie’s voice was low and steady, filled with concern that wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“Get the fuck on outta here, Stack!” Smoke threatened, takin' your place at the front door, ready to protect you from whatever darkness loomed on the other side, his stance firm and unwavering. “Fo’ I give you the pain you lookin’ for.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve already won,” Stack said, his voice dripping with a mix of confidence and something darker, leaving a chill in the air that seeped into your bones.

You struggled to catch your breath, disoriented and unsure how you ended up in the back of a car. The vehicle felt foreign, likely belonging to someone who had come to enjoy the evening’s festivities, not knowing what they’d fall victim to.

The world around you faded into a blur, drowned out by the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart.

You blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog from your mind. Each time you shut your eyes, the horrific memories of the last half hour flashed before you like a relentless slideshow.

Grace. Taunted by Bo before she snapped, letting the horror in.

“Bam.”

Those of you who remained inside the juke joint were doing your best to arm yourselves before the undead descended upon you, ready to invade your sanctuary.

You blinked rapidly, feeling tears swell in your eyes, the last wave of grief crashing over you as you closed them tight.

You watched Delta sacrifice himself, as you felt Mary’s claws sinking into your abdomen, her whispers echoing in your mind at the memory of her claiming him as hers, before being suddenly thrown away from you.

“Bam.”

All you could do was watch as Smoke hovered above Annie, who had spared you a glance. She was muttering words you couldn’t understand; your ears filled with a deafening white noise.

A moment later, you watched your sister’s husband drive a stake through her heart. You could feel her essence leaving this plane, taking a piece of you with her as she slipped away.

“Bam.”

Everyone was gone. The people you grew up with, the ones you loved—they were all dead or turned to the undead. You looked down, the vision of your hand blurring in and out of focus as you felt something slick coating your fingers.

Blood.

This time, the blood on your hands was yours.

“Come on, Bam, look at me.” A voice said softly.

You blinked hard, your vision clearing as you finally focused on the face before you.

“Elias?”

A feeling you couldn’t quite describe washed over you. You were torn between wanting to scream and shout or attempting to run away, even though deep down, you knew you were in no condition to do so. You should be scared of him, but you didn't have the energy to feel fear. You were dying.

The air around you was thick with dread, the acrid smell of smoke and blood mingling in your nostrils, a stark reminder of the chaos that had consumed the night. With your last few moments in this lifetime approaching fast, you considered it might be a blessing to lay eyes on the face of your soulmate one last time.

With a shaky hand, you reached up, caressing the side of his face gently, yearning for the warmth that once radiated from him.

Stack let out a sigh of relief, the sound echoing in the stillness. You had been in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity as he picked you up and carried you away from the madness.

Stack looked down at the spot you’d been holding, your dress now darkened with blood, a stark contrast against the fabric.

The scent of you flooded his senses, and he couldn’t help the drool that pooled in his mouth, salivating at the thought of how you would taste. Yet, he fought against his new nature, focusing solely on you.

“Did you mean it?” you choked out, bringing his attention back to your face, your voice a fragile whisper.

“I did. I do.” He confessed, relishing the warmth of your touch against his cold skin. “I’ve been in love with you since I was a youngin’. I’ll always want you, even if you don’t want me.”

You looked into his glowing red eyes, filled with sincerity, and a pained laugh escaped your lips, tinged with irony.

“Even undead, your insecurities are screamin’,” you smiled, your teeth stained with blood. Your fingertips caressed his skin, grateful you could finally see him one last time. “I never wanted Smoke, Elias. I only ever wanted you.”

“I ain’t ever been nobody’s but yours, Y/n.” His rough voice whispered, filled with longing. “I will always be yours. I just need you to stay with me.”

You thought about it. Everyone else you loved was already gone, and you felt a hollow emptiness where your heart was supposed to be. You were on the brink of death yourself.

“C’mon now. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you wanna stay.” Stack pleaded, feeling your heartbeat slow beneath his fingers. He cradled your head in his hands, desperate for you to focus on him.

He wanted you to stay with him forever, but he didn’t want to take away your choice. He had taken enough from you tonight already.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your thumb ghosted over his lip, and even half-dead, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him one last time.

Did it have to be the last time?

“I wanna stay,” you whispered through half-lidded eyes.

It was then Stack kissed you, kissed you the way he had pictured so many times before. You reciprocated, both of you ignoring the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. When you pulled apart, he kissed your forehead a few times before resting his on yours. He then took your hand in his, kissing your palm, then your wrist.

“It’s gon’ be alright, don’t you worry. I got you.”

Then he bit you.